Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/816559.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence,
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Lucius_Malfoy/Harry_Potter, Draco_Malfoy/Original_Male_Character(s),
      Severus_Snape/Other(s)
  Character:
      Draco_Malfoy, Lucius_Malfoy, Harry_Potter, Ron_Weasley, Severus_Snape,
      Original_Characters
  Additional Tags:
      lycanthropy, wereleopards, AU, Mpreg, Child_Exploitation, non_graphic
      child_abuse, Dubious_Consent, Threesomes, Mild_Incest, Infidelity, Angst,
      Hurt/Comfort, many_triggers, Read_at_Your_Own_Risk
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-05-25 Completed: 2013-05-31 Chapters: 111/111 Words:
      154869
****** Furry Magic ******
by neichan
Summary
     Harry catches a nasty virus and it changes his whole life.
Notes
     I have been contacted by a reader who feels this story may trigger
     thoughts and memories of non-con. So I have added a dubious con to
     the tags. I think it is impossible to know all the areas of
     sensitivity each reader may have, and what level triggers them.
     Each reader should be careful to take the proper care of her or
     himself. If you feel like you need to stop reading or want to discuss
     tags please feel free. I am sure people will see all sorts of things
     that I don't pick up on. I actually stopped writing in HP fandom a
     while ago because it made me squeamish to write about characters who
     were so young.
     My purpose in writing this particular fic was to explore the sudden,
     involuntary immersion of a young person into a culture that he didn't
     understand and couldn't predict. What had to happen for him to find
     his place in that strange culture?
     And another reader has mentioned that there are a number of other
     tags that could be added. I recall when I wrote this many years back,
     I pretty much cautioned that it shouldn't be read by anyone easily
     upset, or of delicate constitution. Writing underage certainly upset
     me, and so I am not surprised if there are many points that may cause
     triggers. So I do caution those who are sensitive not to embark on
     reading this fic lightly.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter 1
 
"Well, Mr. Potter. You are the last person I expected to see asking for
admittance to Malfoy Manor." Lucius Malfoy said silkily as he moved around his
desk, leaning back against it when he'd stopped in front of the boy slumped in
the wide armchair. His nose wrinkled at a slightly musky odor in the air. "To
what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
 
"Our visit, dear." The sneering, cultured voice came from the doorway, before
the Potter boy could answer. Harry shrank even further down in the confines of
the chair. He had a long shallow scratch on his cheek, dried blood smeared down
his face and onto his dirt streaked shirt. A few strands of his riotously curly
hair were stuck to his cheek by the blood.
 
He kept his eyes averted, he was too still. And he didn't try to say anything.
Not the brash, brave young brat Malfoy remembered. He didn't like the change,
it alerted him to something not being quite right. But, just now there was a
more pressing problem. Lucius now knew what that nasty smell was.
 
A delicately built man lounged against the jamb. His slim legs were clothed in
plum trousers and he wore a matching waistcoat over a pale pink ruffled shirt.
His boots were a slightly darker plum color. His black hair was cut rakishly,
spiky. He was smiling, but underneath the smile he was tense, ready to react
instantly if need be.
 
Lucius pushed up off the desk, growling. His thick shoulders bunched as his
attention diverted from the shivering boy in the chair to the very familiar,
most unwelcome man. The source of the skin tingling odor. Lucius' nose
quivered, his lips pulling back from his teeth.
 
"Paulsen, you sniveling shit, get out of my house, or I will kill you where you
stand." Lucius snarled, his voice suddenly far deeper than should have been
possible, a deep resonant rumble in his chest, very close to a roar. His body
seemed to be suddenly larger, much more threatening, if that was possible.
 
"No, Malfoy, you won't. And don't try to hex me out until I've had my say.
Dumbledore has put a protection spell on me. Besides, you deserve it, you let
your wards slip. It was a piece of cake for Dumbledore to get me in here." The
man grinned showing his perfect teeth, waggling a long finger at the much
larger Lucius. He turned sideways, looking across his shoulder at the big man.
There was a challenge in his darkly lashed, chocolate brown eyes.
 
"You dare to bring that man's magic into my home, then demand I listen to you?"
Lucius moved forward a step. The other man stood up and away from the door
frame. His arms hung loosely from his sides, poisied for flight.
 
"He sent me to bring the boy to you." Paulsen said, deceptively calm. He tilted
his head to the side, looking over through his lashes. "I had no choice but to
come here if he commanded it. I owe him, Lucius. You know it. Don't blame me."
He considered flashing an ingratiating smile but decided it wasn't worth the
risk.
 
"Why would he send me one of his little playthings? With you to deliver it to
me?" Lucius Malfoy advanced, enjoying the suddenly unmistakable nervousness in
the other man's stance. The Potter boy edged away from the side of the chair
Lucius was passing. Lucius frowned, but kept his attention on the other man.
Paulsen was poised to run, every survival instinct on alert. Lucius sensed not
another predator, but prey. "Come now, tell me something I can believe, puppy."
 
"Since the boy was stupid enough to get bitten on the last full moon. He's a
lycanthrope, Lucius." Paulsen said quickly, wanting to stop Malfoy from coming
nearer. Time to stop taunting. Provoking him a little was fun, getting into a
real scrap with Malfoy was suicide. Paulsen knew better.
 
"Why don't you take care of him then, wolf? Or does your loyalty not even
extend that far? To your own kind?" Lucius growled, his grey eyes narrowing,
paling, the strange light in them growing. Paulsen actually took a step back
into the hall, pulling out his wand, which Lucius ignored.
 
"I can not, he's not my flavor of animal. I can hardly stand to be around him.
He positively reeks." Paulsen shuddered, casting a glance at the huddled
figure. His distaste was not feigned.
 
"What animal, then?" Lucius pressed. Prowling closer, his movements fluid,
feral as he advanced. Paulsen held up a hand placatingly.
 
"He is a were-leopard." And Paulsen was unable to suppress a grin as he
disclosed that tidbit of unwelcome information. "Just your style, Luc. A brand
new kitten just for you. Young, and sweet, and succulent."
 
"Impossible. Who is responsible?" The growl grew into a coughing roar. The
teeth Lucius bared included an impressive set of fangs.
 
"Well, that is the question isn't it. Who had your permission to turn someone
last full moon? Ohhh. I seeeee. No one? Is papa kitty losing control of his
sweet beasts, Lucius?" And with that last barb, Paulsen apparated out of the
Manor. Tittering with laughter.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter 2
 
"Up, Potter." Lucius Malfoy strode back into his study and toward the boy in
his chair. His long legs eating up the distance between them. Harry's eyes met
his with trepidation, huge green eyes in a milky white face. Terrified. Lucius
continued to advance.
Harry struggled to his feet, grabbing the edge of the chair to steady himself,
his voice came out as an unrecognizable croak. Lucius Malfoy watched him
swallow, working his throat to clear it. Harry never made it to another attempt
at speech. He stayed upright for precisely ten seconds, then his eyes rolled
back in his head, and he crumpled to the floor, landing with a thump.
Lucius looked down at the crumpled heap of young man. Grunting with annoyance,
he stooped and picked up the small frame. Instantly he felt it, the connection.
Potter was a were-leopard, and he had come from Lucius' line, sanctioned or
not.
The most practical action was to kill the boy, and find the one who had turned
him. Then to punish or kill that one. Depending on the circumstances. An
accident might be forgiven, deliberate defiance....no.
But Lucius knew Potter. Admired him to a degree, a damned determined young man
if highly irritating. And he smelled good. Delicious. Like pride. Part of
Lucius' pride. As if he was already claimed by an alpha-leopard. An impossible
thing. Lucius was the only alpha in his pride. The rest were omega or beta.
Second and third tier in the dominance scale.
Lucius carried the unconscious youth down the hall effortlessly. The young man
was cool to the touch, too cool, shocky. Not much muscle on him either.
Physically weak, mentally strong. If Harry had still been wholly human Lucius
would have been worried for his survival. But he was not human, not any more.
There was plenty of time now to strengthen the too thin body.
Potter smelled of old and new blood, with a healthy dose of fear combined, pore
deep, as if he'd been afraid for a while. Looking down, Lucius knew what he
would see once Potter was undressed. Bruises. Scratches. Typical when a
lycanthrope of one type encountered a second type. Rage, competition, the urge
to toy with prey. It took many years to gain the control not to answer to the
instinct. To defeat the drive to kill. Paulsen may have played with the
fledgling, batting him around, or it may have been someone else.
The bathing room was warm, steam rising from the shallow pool. The edge sloped
down into the water. Lucius lay the boy down and sent out a call for Amrys, his
Des, or second in command. He felt the answering call, and set about undressing
Harry while he waited. Then he undressed himself, the work of only moments, not
wanting to wet his clothes.
He saw the expected scratches, and the bruises, some days old, some from only
hours before. But Potter was alive, and would remain alive. His clothing was
stuck to him in several places over the larger lacerations. Lucius scooped
water and dripped it onto the places where the clothing was stuck, soaking it
to loosen the blood adhering fabric to flesh. He gently prised the fabric away.
Amrys entered the room slowly, on alert, nose twitching, hair ruffled and
standing on end. His lithe, golden skinned body was clothed only in light brown
leather pants. His feet were bare. He approached cautiously. And at Lucius' nod
of permission, he sank to his knees beside the two who were on the bathing
pool's sandy verge.
Amrys offered his cheek, lifting his chin and baring his throat to his alpha.
Lucius rubbed his scent along the other man's face, back up to behind the well
shaped ear. He lingered over the large pulse in the other man's neck. Then he
pulled back. Together they gazed down at the slender youth sprawled on the
flooring.
"Who is this?" The blond were-leopard growled. In answer Lucius pushed back the
lank hair with one hand, revealing the pale forehead. He watched his second for
a reaction. "Ahh." Amrys said as he took in the z shaped scar. "Why is *he* one
of us?"
"I do not know. I have not discovered who turned him. He scents as if claimed,
but is yet unmarked by an alpha." Lucius told the younger man. He turned Potter
and looked at his back. More bruising.
"That does not make sense. He can not be claimed if you have not marked him.
There are no other alphas in our pride." Amrys stated the obvious. He sniffed
to be sure. "He smells like one of us, but brand new, a kitten, less than a
month old, two or three weeks at most, who had your leave?"
Lucius' pale eyes gleamed. "I know that. And I have not marked him. But I can
smell an alpha claim on him. No one had my leave to do this. No one." He
snarled, baring his fangs. Amrys rubbed his face submissively along Lucius'
bare arm.
"You will lay claim to him? To take over the prior claim?" Amrys asked for
confirmation when his alpha had calmed. If the boy was to be eliminated, then
he would not be here in the bathing room of Malfoy Manor. Lucius meant to let
the young man live.
"Yes." Lucius lifted the new one and walked into the bathing pool, the steam
rising higher as he disturbed the water. Amrys waited until he was given a nod
of permission, then he shed his pants and entered the water. Together they
bathed the somnolent youth, who gave no reaction beyond a small moan when the
worst of his injuries were washed.
Lucius ducked himself, rinsing off the remnants of Potter's blood from his own
skin. He rose from the steam, water cascading off of his pale skin like drops
of crystal. His broad chest, deep and strong with nipples like pale oval coins,
gleaming on his pectorals as he rose. He took Harry from Amrys and stood still,
allowing his second to run hands over him, to wash him clean.
Then he carried Potter from the pool, large muscles bunching under his old-
ivory toned skin. He set the youth on a cotton blanket and set about treating
his many wounds. Claw marks, teeth scrapes. And the one bite mark, high on his
shoulder. That was the one that had turned him. Forcing the saliva deep into
him, holding the bite while the virus in it had time to sink into his
bloodstream. Lucius measured the bite with is eyes. A big cat. Every bit as big
as his own bite.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter 3
 
The mist rose up, a thin, rose tinted line meandering up into the air. The
witch bent down over the smoky mist, inhaling as the hair and blood boiled in
the beaker of polyjuice. Blood-polyjuice. It was perfect. The best. She could
be what she deserved to be. Have the power she deserved. It pleased her. It had
taken so long. But now it was hers.
She drank from the lifted, bubbling brew, draining the beaker dry. It slid down
her throat like something solid, no longer liquid, congealing even as she
hurried to bolt it down. It passed down her throat, a gelid mass, bitter, foul,
but as the only means to her end, it tasted sweet to her. She gulped it before
it could choke her. Like swallowing a mass of rancid liver, it slipped at last
into her stomach. She gasped for air.
Ah. Yes. It was the same as the last time. The creeping heat moving through her
limbs. Her heart, her lungs. Through her whole body. She fought the urge to
claw at her skin, to ease the overwhelming itch of the shift from her to HIM.
She reveled in the feeling of her body changing so profoundly. She gasped,
feeling her genitals morphing, becoming male. No longer female. Extending out.
No longer the bearer of life, but the giver. She grinned through the nauseating
spin of the shift. It was GOOD.
Very slowly her face changed. From one breath to the next.
Inhale, and she stood taller. Her head raised in proud bearing.
Inhale, and she stood broader. Muscles swelling over her frame, flesh rippling
like magical dough rising.
Inhale, and her face changed, the bones shifting, lifting and moving, becoming
passionate, handsome, fierce. Him, she was becoming HIM. Her elation was a
living thing.
Inhale, and her hair lengthened, lightened. Spilled down her back in a thick,
silver, blond wave.
Inhale, and her eyes went hotter, paler. A blue grey that was so clear as to be
the color of water.
Inhale, and she became the one who's hair and blood she stirred into her potion
and drank. The pale skinned leopard king.
Inhale, and she could walk the earth as the powerful creature she should have
been all along. As the chanting in her head faded, for one short hour she was
him. She/he was, HIM, again.
Inhale. Inhale. Inhale. And a solid, living man-beast stood where once a woman
two centuries ignored had been. She/he stretched her/his stiff neck, shook off
the languor. Time to hunt.
To watch.
She/he looked around, seeing the world through eyes still alive. Saw the trees,
the buildings, the people filing in and out, gathering in groups. She/he was in
the outer yard at Hogwarts, creeping along, hidden. She/he was a predator now.
She/he could stalk her prey.
To hear.
Her ears flicked forward, picked up the shuffle of distracted steps, of someone
walking and not aware, of the perfect prey as they concentrated on other
things, not on safety. This was Hogwarts. The prey believed it was safe. She/he
smiled baring long, gleaming fangs.
To scent.
A little boy. Too young. She/he fought against the disappointment. Because just
beyond, a few steps further was the perfect one. A girl. Older than the boy.
And alone. She smelled good, ripe, right. The predator crept nearer.
Anticipation quivering through her/his perfect feline body.
To touch.
She/he leaped. The girl went down, with only whoosh of air leaving her lungs,
no cry, as the predator's mouth fastened on her throat, stopping any sound. So
easy. The hunter growled with joy, with the success of the hunt. Now came the
best, as she/he weighed down the prey with her/his big, heavy body.
To taste.
That was the one thing she/he needed most. To taste. The blood. The flesh. The
fear. She/he sank her fangs in deep. And she fed on it all. The flesh, the
blood, and most wonderfully the fear, as her/his teeth tore into the prey.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter 4
 
"There has been another one." Amrys interrupted Lucius. The alpha looked up,
his eyes darkening, brows lowered dangerously. Another strike at his authority.
He snarled silently as his second came further into the room. Amrys was not
afraid of him. He knew Lucius would not take his anger out on the bearer of bad
news. The pride could not have a better leader. A more gifted one.
"And? Do you have the details? Was any one seen?" Lucius forced out in a
relatively human voice, profoundly displeased with the turn of events. "Have
witnesses been found to the attack?"
Amrys hesitated, then barged on with the rest of his news. "She has died, this
one. She did not survive the attack. It was a kill attack, not one meant to
change. Perhaps it was an accident that the first kitten survived." Amrys
ventured his opinion.
"Are we sure it was one of our pride? Feline? Not wolf or rodent?" Lucius asked
even as he nodded, agreeing with his second's assessment. He had wondered just
that. More of the Potter luck. Nothing could kill the boy. He'd survived enough
attempts to take out a dozen other men.
"Kaithas says it is one of ours. He scented the child. The scent on her was
pride-scent. On the grounds of the school, Hogwarts. No one saw anything more.
Or anyone who was not supposed to be there. The girl was near the forest, but
not within it." Amrys sat on the corner of Lucius' polished, dark stained,
cherry wood desk.
Lucius pushed away from the desk. "I do not like this. I am going to talk to
Potter. We must stop this. Call the pride. I will meet with them later tonight.
Every one of them. No exceptions." He stood, flexing his arms, rumbling angrily
under his breath. He wore loose fitting trousers. Nothing else. His feet and
chest were bare. The silk pants flowed along his legs, moving as he moved.
"He remembers nothing, alpha." Amrys said. Stepping back as his alpha passed
him, dipping his head.
"I will know that for myself, my second." Lucius replied, running an
acknowledging hand along the other lycanthrope's forearm as he went by.
@@@@@@@
"I want to leave." Harry Potter said, petulantly, the instant he saw Lucius
Malfoy. "I don't belong here."
"Do you remember what happened to you, Potter?" Lucius squatted down next to
the youth who glared up at him. So the boy was feeling better, capable of
expressing defiance. That was good.
"No. I've already told every one else who has asked me. I don't remember
anything at all. Just feeling sick, really sick. Dumbledore telling some guy in
a purple suit to bring me here, I guess. Then that is it. I woke up and I was
here. With them."
Potter tilted his head at the other young-lings who had been set to watch him.
He had made a loud protest on waking to find them snuggled all around him. And
all of them naked to boot. Amrys spent most of an hour explaining to the new
lycanthrope that was the way the pride slept. In piles, naked, together. Potter
had not liked it. Lucius could tell he still thought they were pulling a fast
one on him somehow. Subjecting him to some kind of perversion. Lucius smirked
at that human viewpoint.
"Try to remember. It is more important now. There has been another attack. On
Hogwarts' grounds, again. Not on the Quidditch field where they found you. This
time it was near the Forbidden Forrest." He watched for how the boy took the
news.
"At Hogwarts? Again? Who was it? Are they OK?" Harry sat up, the fur cover
falling down to pool around his bare waist. Lucius reacted to the view in a way
he had not expected. Desire. Hmmm. He chuffed the scent of the youth into his
nostrils. Blinking slowly. Tasting him using scent.
"No. She is dead. I don't know her name. It is not safe for you to go back to
Hogwarts. The one who has attacked you may try to call you. And you would have
to answer. It is the way things are among us." Lucius told the scowling defiant
young man. Potter's chin was jutting out. Set stubbornly.
Potter looked very unhappy. And frightened a moment later. Lucius was pleased
that Potter has the sense to be frightened. Maybe he was growing up at last.
Looking at things with a realistic view of the risks involved.
"How old are you, kitten?" Lucius asked. Potter looked, surprised, then
annoyed.
"Don't call me that. I am your son's age. Seventeen. Eighteen next month. I am
not a child or a 'kitten'." He scowled fiercely at the man.
Lucius cuffed him sharply to the side of his head, knocking him down.
"Hey! Ouch. What was that for?" Harry yelled, rubbing the sore place, while he
wisely stayed curled up on his side giving Lucius a wary look, not trying to
rise. Instinctively knowing he was safer on the foor.
"I am alpha. You do not correct me." Lucius growled moving closer to the
shrinking young man, who fell silent, hand pressed to the side of his head.
Lucius bumped into the boy, and Harry shuddered. Not with the revulsion he
thought he should feel. He wanted the contact. He stretched out his neck
unbidden. Lucius' mouth and chin pushed at his throat, teeth scraped over his
skin, raising a shower of goose bumps. Harry gasped, arching up into the bite.
Yes. His alpha was claiming him. He purred with satisfaction.
Harry gulped, swallowing hard. What the hell was that? He fought to even out
his breathing, to think, as the bigger man's unclothed skin rubbed over his
own. Malfoy was growling at him, pressing him back onto the furs. And Harry was
reacting by going limp, passive, and not fighting back, not shoving him away.
He was giving in. He felt the panic rising, but it was distant. Most of his
awareness was focused on his surrender. He mewled as the fur covering him was
torn aside.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter 5
 
Harry was frozen flat on his back as the man loomed over him. His arms were up
over his head, held by the wrists, in one of Lucius' large hands. The man
brought up his other hand to Harry's face, holding his chin cupped. Forcing
their eyes to meet. Brilliant green and melted silver. Harry shook with the
intensity of that shared look. His skin burned in a nerve-rush all over.
"Watch me, kitten. Look at me. I am your alpha. You do not deny me." Lucius
pressed in close, pinning Harry's hips with his own, pelvis to pelvis, his
spine curved to hold Harry down. His arousal was growing. He felt the shiver of
need, of hunger begin to grow. The boy was so good, hot and frightened, yet his
heart hammered with the growing scent of desire. That desire scent, the
pheromones filled the air. He heard the other kittens in the room shuffling in
response. The scent arousing them as well.
"That is good. Yes. Surrender to me." Lucius slid one knee up between the young
man's thighs. Up high, in tight to the undulating body, as Potter pushed
against him, half panicking to be up and away, half needing more, so
desperately wanting more. Lucius rode his soft belly, pressing his cock against
the boy's silky abdomen, feeling Harry's answering erection.
Harry's legs fell open reluctantly, wide, wide, he couldn't fight it. His body
was crying out for this kind of touch. For the hard riding of the big, solid
shaft rhythmically running over the muscles of his stomach and his hip.
Fluid wet him, through the silk the man still wore, small amounts, lubricating
the way, the track the cock rode over his flesh, in counterpoint to the rough
silk. His own arousal grew, throbbing painfully, aching for more stimulation.
The man humping hard against him ignored it. Ignored the pleas buried in his
whimpering.
Lucius pushed a second knee between the young man's thighs, and Harry tried to
talk his body into squirming free, but it wouldn't cooperate.
"No, I haven't..." Harry whimpered feeling the man moving nearer, up in between
his spread thighs. Too far, too close, to intimate. "No." Lucius growled at the
word, and Harry subsided, eyes wild, chest rising and falling rapidly.
The were-leopard king pushed his knees up further, higher, until he rested long
and demanding, flush up against Harry's softest and hardest parts, up between
his widespread spread legs, his erection leaking in spurts of slick fluid.
Harry gulped. Moaned, looking up into the fierce, beautiful face. His body
trembled head to foot, in long shuddering waves. Each wave letting out a spurt
of his pre-cum to splash on his already wet skin.
Lucius jostled the boy with his body, letting him feel his cock pressed to him
tightly. Letting him know he could take him any way he wished. The youth's eyes
rolled up into his head.
Lucius looked down, raking his gaze over the naked body. Slim, but athletic.
The nipples were already tight points, the young man's erection flushed,
purpled, hard enough to cut rock. So the kitten was responsive, not indifferent
to his touch. Good. Lucius let a pleased snarl grow on his face.
Lucius pushed down his pants, pulling his erection fully out into the air. He
saw how Harry's eyes widened. No more silk fabric between them, just flesh to
flesh. Good, let him look at it. Let him feel it. He grabbed Harry's chin
again. Made the boy look at him, at his face, into his eyes. The flushed cheeks
and open mouth were so tempting. The pink tongue waiting to be sucked. But
Lucius did not bend down. This was not making love. This was claiming.
He was throbbing against the youth's belly, rubbing, rubbing, sliding in the
dewed sweat and pre-cum from both of their bodies. Hearing how the boy begged
and feeling how he squirmed as the alpha moved on him. Lucius bared his fangs,
riding him faster, grinding into the kitten's sweet flesh. Welcoming flesh.
Harry writhed under him, his voice nothing more than short gasps, begging
moans. His legs gripping hard, up around the alpha's hips, now. Lucius was
pleased.
"Yes, kitten. Move for me." He growled, feeling the release growing, a tingling
rush moving up from his feet, down from his shoulders and rushing over him,
until he shot his pleasure on the heaving belly beneath him. He stilled then.
The boy remained hard, he had not attained his own peak. Lucius sat up, forcing
the gripping legs to release him. Harry lay sprawled out, achingly erect.
Panting. Pouring out the heat-scent.
"Please." Harry managed a coherent word. Repeated it. "Please."
Lucius smiled. "Yes. You pleased me, kitten." He turned away.
Lucius beckoned one of the other young of his pride over. The tall, dark blond
boy with amber-brown eyes. "Watch him, youngling. He is mine. No one else is to
have him. Do you understand me?" His eyes glared fierce grey. The youngling
nodded.
"Yes, alpha. The kitten is yours." Blaise replied voice poised on the brink of
baritone and tenor, his eyes meeting those of his alpha. His king. Lucius
leaned in licked the youngling's cheek. A long, slow, leisurely lap. Blaise's
eyes fluttered shut, his body going passive, quiescent under the touch. Lucius
pulled away.
"Good." Lucius stripped off the soiled silk pants, dropping them on the floor.
"Bring him to the gathering tonight. Unwashed. Wipe him off, but do not wash
him. I want them all to smell him like he is. With my scent on him." And he
walked out of the room.
Harry sobbed in distress.
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter 6
 
She was out of blood. It was a serious problem. She had so little leeway. The
attacks had to be carefully timed and scheduled to follow her plan.
Action had to be taken, immediately. Cautious, but necessary action, at once.
She had hoped the boy would return on his own. He had not. Now it was a
problem. When things were going so well, too.
The third attack had been perfect. She had struck with the precision of an
accomplished hunter, one with years of experience. Taking out her prey with
breathtaking ease. As great as the ease the real leopard king might use. The
thrill still rang through her bones when she closed her eyes and envisioned it.
And none the wiser. The boy had died, as she meant him to. No way to trace any
thing back to her door.
The first attack had been the only one where she'd had any problems at all. But
no one saw her then, either, and no one came after her. The Potter boy was
gone, she'd looked for him, so there was nothing to concern her any longer. He
was gone. He had not answered her call when she'd tried to call him. She felt
no connection. He had disappeared. Perhaps he had died later. In any event he
was no longer a threat.
But now it was all going to be put at risk. Unless she could acquire more
blood. The first time it had been so easy. He had come to her, foolish boy.
Asking for her help. Asking for answers to his questions, and she'd seen her
chance, taken it. She'd told him what she needed to give her those answers. He
never realized she'd needed none of it to answer him. The supplies were for
her. To fulfill her plans.
And he'd actually sworn *her* to secrecy, foolish trusting child. She'd
solemnly agreed not to tell anyone. Her word of honor. It was obviously meant
to be. Not laughing in his face, that had been harder. Not dancing her triumph.
But now she was out of the blood she had to have. And now she needed to think
on how to get more. Standing she walked over to her window. The sun was bright.
The green field of the sports stadium was lush, vibrant. The grounds were
lovely, she admitted that. But this place was a prison for a woman like her.
She hated it here. All those loud and obnoxious children. None of them showing
any respect. Making fun of her behind her back. She had been relegated to this.
Driven to this place by one small mistake. Discredited. It was patently unfair.
She had worked for centuries to establish her reputation. Then at the height of
her success...well any one can make a mistake. They'd asked her to leave as
head of her department. And this was where she had ended up. That pip-squeak
Dumbledore acting as if he was doing her a favor letting her teach his precious
children. Pah. Idiots all.
She bit her lip focusing hard, muttering the seeing-spell under her breath. She
saw him at once. Out there on his broom, whizzing around with the other members
of his Quidditch team. Lithe, slender and beautiful. So graceful. His hair
shining in the sun, like a moonstone. The green of his uniform a deeper but
flatter color than the bright grass.
She remembered when young men like him had flocked to her for different
reasons. When he had first approached she thought, foolishly, that he was
coming to her for....that. She knew she didn't look her age. Her body was still
firm and young looking. But this was better. She didn't need sex. It never
lasted. This was lasting. This was what she needed to prove how strong she
still was. They'd all see how wrong they'd been to say she was a has been, that
she was slipping, getting too old.
Turning from the window, she summoned one of the house elves. Jelli appeared
almost at once. She handed the elf the folded bit of paper with the boy's name
on the outside penned in her flowing script.
"Deliver this at once," she said, to the tiny pink creature. And turned back to
her crystals and charts. The portents remained promising. She would prevail.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter 7
 
It was a shame, Kaithas thought, that Draco was not going to be following in
his father's footsteps. When the boy had been born, looking so much like his
father, Kaithas had thought for sure that the boy would be turned once he came
of age.
It had not happened. Draco had inherited his mother's resistance to
lycanthropy. He could not become one of them. The pride had mourned at Lucius'
disappointment, grieving with their king.
The discovery had devastated Lucius. And had been the first step in alienating
him from his human wife. Narcissa. She who had lied, when she said she had no
reason she could not wed the lycanthrope king. She had known of her resistance.
But she wanted him, the beautiful, so masculine king. Wanted him to love and
desire her, wanted to wield his power with him, to do it she'd lied. So the
son, Draco, he who should have been the heir was not. Lucius had never forgiven
her the deception. Kaithas shook his head sadly.
Now the sudden gathering. All the pride called together. With a new member for
the first time in a year. Potter. His turning had not been announced, no
celebration held, because it had not been planned.
The new kitten sat at Lucius' feet. He had been brought here into the arena,
naked, by the rest of the young-lings. No one gave him clothes, the king had
not said he should have them. So the young-lings did not provide him any. His
state of undress caused a ripple of sharpened interest to move throughout the
vast room. The heat-scent wafted through the air.
Lucius gave no sign of noticing the boy was the only nude pride member. He'd
tugged and the youth went down, his watcher, Blaise, at his back, cradling the
thin boy in front of himself. Both young-lings sat on the furs piled to one
side of the flat topped stone Lucius sat upon. Potter instantly pulled a part
of the fur up over his lap.
Both the young-lings heads rested on the king's sacred body. The Potter boy's
on his knee. Blaise's on Lucius' strong left thigh. Absently, Lucius stroked
one dark head, then the other one. Waiting for the arena to be filled. Using
them like touchstones to calm himself. Center himself. His rage was a tang in
the air, causing the assembled to shift in place nervously.
Amrys, the Des and Graeme, Lucius' Tres, entered the arena together. Two men
with the same long, loping stride. Amrys' short dark blond colored hair
standing out against Graeme's long, wavy brown-red locks. The thick, loosed
hair of the Tres brushed the backs of his knees, kept away from his fine
featured face by twists of hair at his temples held in silver clasps.
Graeme's skin was a dozen shades paler than Amrys', the milky white of the
northern reaches and the peoples who'd evolved there for millennia, adapting to
the rays of the weaker sun. His blue eyes were dark blue, cobalt, like precious
jewels or a sky leaving midnight behind to greet the earliest prelude to dawn.
Amrys, while blond, had a darker skin, a skin that tanned easily, to a true
golden brown.
Amrys lifted his head as he came closer, leaving Graeme to stand with some
others. Amrys moved to Kaithas' side. His eyes traveling unerringly to the
tableau at the king's rock. He scented the air, nostrils flaring. More and more
heads were going up, smelling the semen of the king on the air. Zeroing in, and
finding who wore the telling scent. Finding the sulky, green eyed kitten.
Graeme finished his conversation, and went to stand next to Lucius' right side,
avoiding the young-lings. He went to one knee in greeting, bending his neck to
his king. Lucius sank his hands into all that hair, pulling Graeme in closer,
rubbing their faces together, then freeing the other were-leopard. Graeme
stood, moving around to sit at Lucius' back, on the throne's edge. Silence fell
in fits and starts. Attention focused on the throne.
Lucius waited for the eyes of his pride to fasten onto his face. He bared his
fangs. His growl filled the arena. As one the pride went to the floor. Dropping
to hands and knees, pressing their faces to the ground, abasing themselves
before their angry king. Lucius looked out over them. His next growl had them
sitting back on their heels, watchful. Every eye trained on him.
Lucius then transferred his gaze to the boy sitting next to him, stiff under
the gaze of so many. He patted his thigh. The boy stared at him. Then frowned
stubbornly. Shaking his head. The Potter boy's face was mulish.
"No. I won't. I'm naked. You can't make me." He hissed defiantly through
gritted teeth, hands clutching at the fur that was all that covered him.
Kaithas raised his brows in amazement. Foolish but spirited. Soon to be
corrected.
Lucius' brows shot up and the look he gave the kitten was incredulous. The
little one had not learned that challenging him was an unwise endeavor. He
would learn soon.
Lucius reached down, knotting one hand in the hair at the back of the kitten's
head, and locked the other one around the frail throat. He hauled the slim form
up as if it were weightless. Drawing the bowed, struggling body across his lap,
like a pieta, displaying all the writhing young one's charms.
Silken skin, so fresh, the marks of the assault all but gone, the pink blush
tantalizing. The scent of the king, marking the youth, so tempting, making
hundreds of mouths water with need. Hundreds of throats whine.
Both of the young one's hands were at the king's wrist, clawing at the hold.
Lucius held him firm, biceps bulging, more with anger than with effort. He
spoke, tossing his long hair back from his face. His eyes hot.
"Look on this one." He said low. And the all the prides' eyes looked down at
the kitten. Saw his fighting, drawing them to the struggle, to the desire to
fight, and subdue the little one. To earn his submission.
"He is new, brand new. Turned by someone who did not seek my leave." Lucius'
incandescent gaze went from face to face. His rage was growing, filling the
arena with the quivering anticipation of violence.
"Who among you turned him against my wishes? If it was one of you, one of my
pride, I will discover you. Come forward now, and I will kill you quickly. If I
must seek you out, the death will not be and easy one." He waited. His thumb
moved over the kitten's cheek, caressingly.
There was no answering call. He looked around again. Measured each one he saw
in silence. All of them met his gaze. None flinched. They knew he did not
punish without reason, nor did he punish the obedient, or those innocent of
crimes. They obeyed him, followed him, knelt to him. But did not fear him.
"Very well. We will find out who has done this. Each of you will hunt this dead
one who is biting the innocents, until he is caught. There will be no
exceptions. All the attacks have happened on the grounds of Hogwarts. But no
matter where you are you will remain vigilant. Report everything to the Des or
the Tres." Lucius shook Harry hard, still across his thighs.
"This one, by rights I should kill. He was made without sanction. He is an
insult to me. I will accept no other insults. This one," he lifted Harry
straight up in the air by the grip on his throat and hair, feet dangling, eyes
wide with unconcealed terror.
"This one is mine. No one shall touch him without my leave. No one shall permit
another to touch him without my leave. You will all defend him. He is the
belonging of your king." Lucius growled lowering the choking boy to his lap.
Harry sagged, gasping to fill his starved lungs with fresh oxygen. Lucius
petted him soothingly. A sound carried in from outside the arena.
Kaithas turned his head away from the display on the rock throne. There was a
ripple of movement at the entrance to the arena. Amrys was moving that way,
fast. The bitch was here, in the arena, uninvited. Worse, she had brought one
of the young-lings with her, the one that had been turned last year at the
request of his brothers. The bitch had collared him, now played her defiant
games with him.
He followed her into the arena with the graceful stride of the young athlete he
was. His hips swaying in unconscious seduction, clad in tight bronze shorts,
his mouth was full, pink, succulent. He honestly had no awareness of his pale
freckled allure. He held his head chin high, the tall collar forcing that, as
she stopped in the entry way, knowing all eyes were moving to her. His cheeks
were lit fiery red with humiliation. She had commandeered him, and he was too
young to defy her.
She smiled at them all, showing her human teeth. Even the king paused to look
in her direction, as did the boy draped down over his lap, head hanging so that
he looked in the direction of the bitch, seeing upside down, face flushed with
blood, chest heaving. The great emerald eyes blinked once, twice in disbelief,
then he croaked out one word.
"Ron?"
And the collared young-ling saw him. Turned a darker red.
"Harry!" He cried in horror. "What are you doing here?"
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter 8
 
She strode into the arena. Her demeanor that of a landholder surveying her
fields. The sneer on her lip was her usual expression. Her long lissome body
was clothed only in a thin skirt, from waist to knees. Her proud breasts were
bare, nipples pale pink, taut. She reveled in the hush that filled the arena.
Gradually she allowed her gaze to traverse the room taking in the alert faces
all fastened on her, until her gaze came to rest on Lucius. If any thing her
eyes grew colder, haughtier than they had been.
He sat back, relaxed, patient, uncaring, holding the kitten on his lap,
absently stroking its fluttering belly. The boy objected to the attention,
wriggling but not able to win free. Lucius smiled indulgently at the squirming,
holding the young-ling pinned quite easily.
"Be still," He ordered mildly. One hand lifted the boy and turned him so he sat
upright in the king's lap, held in the circle of one powerful arm. The kitten
wisely stilled, watching her with big, wary eyes. Appropriately suspicious.
She smiled at that. Then she started forward with the Des trailing at her side,
shepherding her. She pulled the young-ling behind her, tugging on the hated
leash. He followed her, but she felt his resistance here, where the rest of the
pride could see him. She wished she dared to strike out at Amrys. Punish him
for his insolence, for shadowing her as if she was not one of them. Show him
his place. But she didn't dare.
"Brother." She breathed as she came to a stop in front of the rock. She showed
him her teeth again. The damned, blunt human teeth. Because he had forbidden
that she be turned. Even though she had given birth to the heir, when his wife
had been discovered to be cursed. She had been the one to continue the
bloodline, not him. She should be on the throne now, not him. Prophecy be
damned.
"Sister." He rumbled back at her. All lazy, silver and gold tones, muscles
gleaming. His eyes wandered over the young-ling she had leashed. "Why have you
leashed one of my young-lings?"
He did not believe in the leash. He failed to recognize it as the useful tool
it was. She used it also because of his dislike of it. He held out his hand,
commanding her without words to turn the young-ling over to him.
"You have your own playtoy, brother. Why do you seek mine?" She sighed,
delaying the turnover. Wanting to anger him sitting so self-righteous on her
throne. She ran the lead through her hands, stroking it suggestively. "Will you
trade?" Her eyes went to the new one. She did not recognize it. But to be
actually on the king's lap, it had to be valuable.
"No, sister. I will not." He told her. His grey eyes examining her, still not
angry, despite her need to anger him. He turned his face and rubbed his cheek
along the kitten's chin, lifting its chin, and nipping its neck. The kitten let
out a squeak. For some reason she could not fathom, the noise triggered her
rage.
She hissed and threw the end of the leash at his face. Graeme, her brother's
long haired slut, steeped up and caught it, gently tugging the young red-haired
man to him and unclipping the end. Then he pulled the boy back behind the
throne and went to work on the elaborate collar. She smirked at his efforts.
The collar was one of her favorite kind, it would need to be cut off, or bitten
off if a leopard had exceptional skill with its teeth.
"Why are you here, Andromeda?" The were-leopard king asked once more.
"I am the Mother of the heir, are you inferring I have no rights to be here?"
She spat out at him. She waved an arm around the massed lycanthropes. They
crept forward on hands and knees, eying her displayed curves hungrily, tongues
licking at lips.
"You are the Mother of the heir, you are honored for that. But you are not one
of us, it is not your place to be here in our place of gatherings. This is
pride business, Sister. So I ask you again, why are you here? Here where you do
not belong?" He growled at her voice going lower, eyes half-closed, as if he
drowsed.
She gnashed her teeth at him, throwing up her hands. "Once again you deny me.
Threaten me, allow them to threaten me. You sit there all high and mighty, on
the throne that belongs to me..." she yelled at him, jumping towards him. He
looked at Amrys, never flinching. She felt her arms seized and screamed loud
and long.
"It is not your destiny to sit on the throne," Lucius retorted. "The seers
selected me..."
"Before I was born! Before I was born, Lucius. Once I was born they should have
been asked again. You could not even give the pride its next king and yet, you
will not agree to let me take the place the heir's mother should hold by
tradition." She fought the Des' hold on her, trying to rake his flesh with her
file sharpened nails.
"Stop it. I don't want to hurt you." Amrys hissed at her under his breath. She
paid him no heed. All her glares focused on her brother.
"I will not marry you, Sister. That is the position of which you speak. It is
not possible that you should have it, tradition or no." Lucius told her. "I
will not lie with you to satisfy your ambition, Sister mine."
"It is mine! The throne is mine! You cannot deny me! I demand the place that is
mine. I demand the right to be turned, to be one of the pride!" She howled at
him. He looked down at the kitten in his arm. He petted the youth with the back
of his fingers.
"Out." Lucius said mildly. Not looking up.
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter 9
 
Harry squirmed.
"Stop it, Blaise," he hissed at his school mate who was now plastered against
him. The were leopard young-ling groaned.
"I am not doing anything, Harry. Just go to sleep. I swear, I thought Lucius
was doing me an honor having me look after you! You are so prickly. Just go to
sleep!" Blaise sighed into Harry's hair. Not backing away.
"Stop touching me! You're naked!" Harry whispered fiercely, trying not to wake
the others sharing the same sleeping furs. When they woke they always wriggled
closer.
Blaise sighed. "So are you, Harry. So are they. That is how we sleep. Naked. It
doesn't mean anything, except that we are pride. Get over it."
"I can't." Harry said back, confiding in the other student, using a low hiss.
"I keep thinking we're at Hogwarts and somebody is going to walk in and find us
like this."
"Wouldn't that be grand." Blaise chuckled, unable to resist a huge grin,
getting some of Harry's hair stuck in his mouth. "Old Snape would have a heart
seizure. Or, I guess in your case, McGonnagall."
Harry had to admit that was pretty funny, picturing Snape finding the five of
them in a sleeping pile of tangled naked bodies. Himself, Blaise, Ron, and the
twins, Fred and George. But McGonnagall,...Harry shuddered. Not funny. Not
funny at all. Blaise had told him there was another former Hogwarts student who
was pride, Oliver Wood. But he and the black haired Troy were sleeping
elsewhere tonight.
"Last year it was me, Troy and Ron that were turned. They tried to turn Draco
again, but no way, he can't be turned, poor lad. Year before, it was Wood and
the twins." Blaise said, his breath blowing warmly over Harry's shoulder.
"What about Stephan?" Harry asked, puzzled about the other young-ling he'd met.
He was sure Stephan wasn't from Hogwarts.
"Naw, Stephan came into the pride with his father. Muggles, they were. Lucius
accepted them but Stephan was turned elsewhere, in another pride first." Blaise
snuggled closer, pressing bare skin along his pride mate's side.
"Hey!" Harry yelped, jerking away. "Watch it!"
"Oh, Harry! Relax. I'm just trying to get warm. Comfortable. You heard Lucius.
We aren't going to touch you *that* way." Blaise half-whined.
"Yeah, well your're still bare-ass, and so am I. Don't want to feel all your
dangly bits against me like that, now do I? Why'd you want to lay so close?"
Harry grumbled, wondering if he was making too much of it.
Blaise's snort was incredulous. "Because it's warm and nice. And I'm tired." He
said as if to a very slow student.
"And because if you two don't shut up and sleep, Fred and me are going to pound
you." A drowsy voice said from behind Blaise. "Merlin, Harry. Just go to sleep.
Ask your questions tomorrow."
"Heave over," another voice interrupted, as someone stood up and moved to
Harry's other side. It was Fred. "Stephan's come back. Make room." And he
crawled in next to Harry. So the green eyed Gryffindor was hemmed in on two
sides now. Fred wiggled until his bottom was securely up against Harry's hip,
and then he shoved his foot between Harry's own. With that accomplished he let
out a gusty sigh. And went boneless. He was snoring softly within two breaths.
"Why aren't there any girls?" Harry wondered out loud. Not that he'd want to be
like this, naked, with a bunch of girls. He'd die of embarrassment.
"Girl's are special, Harry. They carry on the blood line. You don't get to
touch the girls unless the king tells you you can. And you don't ever turn one
of them, not even by mistake. If you turn them they can't have children. The
change makes them lose the baby on the full moon." It was George answering, his
voice uncharacteristically serious. "Now go to sleep!"
"But, what about Ron and that woman? She was pulling him around on a lead!"
Harry protested.
"Her?!" It was Ron's squeak, Harry hadn't known he was awake and listening.
"You don't think I'd do that with Her? I'd lose my parts!"
"She's the Mother of the heir, Harry." George said, warningly. "Best not to
think of her like that."
"I'm not!" Harry protested. "But, Ron came in with her, like that! What d'ya
expect me to think?"
"It'd drop off if you tried to put in in her," Stephan offered from the far
side of the fur bed. "If Amrys or Graeme didn't tear it off first."
"Naw, not Graeme, he's pussy cat. It's Amrys you are going to have to watch
for." Ron said into the momentary lull.
"You're dreaming. Just 'cause he pets you up sometimes." George said with a
snort. "Don't know who you are talking about, but it's not that Graeme the rest
of us know, you'd better watch out for him too, Harry."
"Why? What'll he do?" Harry quizzed, curious.
"Lucius is the pride's king. Graeme and Amrys are his Third and his Second. If
there's bad shit to handle, they'll be the ones who'll handle it." George told
him. "Best stay out of their way. Both of them, no matter what Ron says."
"Why not Lucius? Why do they do all the fighting and stuff?"
"Because if he fights you, he's likely to kill you. There is a reason he is the
king, Harry." George replied with a sigh.
"He didn't kill me the other day. He just...I mean...hit me." Harry said.
"Yeah."Blaise said. "And shot a load all over you. He claimed you." The tone
was more than a little jealous. Harry gaped at the other young man.
"You want him to do that to you?" Harry blurted out, shocked.
"It's not sex, kitten, it's claiming. Grow up! It's like he owns you now, even
more than he has the rest of us." George told the younger youth.
"Has he ever...."
"Not me." Blaise said.
"Me, either." Ron and Stephan said at the same time.
"He's had Fred like that. Not me though." George said, last.
Harry frowned. "Why just me and Fred?"
"No idea, mate." Fred sighed. "Now go to sleep, would ya?"
***** Chapter 10 *****
Chapter 10
 
Lucius looked up as Amrys and Graeme walked into his resting room. The long
haired man preceded the short haired one. Lucius did not see why at first, then
Amrys moved out from behind the Tres.
Amrys was covered with clots, smears and streaks of dried blood. He met Lucius'
eyes hotly. Lucius sighed inwardly.
"Your blood or her blood?" The leopard king asked. Letting his gaze run over
the body of his Des, searching for the wounds, cataloging how much blood there
was. He held out a hand, rising to his feet. He led the two other lycanthropes
into the private bathing area.
"Mostly not mine, she was cut, so some is hers, the largest measure is from
those who demanded the opportunity to correct each other's view of her place in
the pride." Amrys admitted wryly, trailing after his king. Lucius gestured for
him to sit.
Amrys sat on the edge of the deep pool, dangling his feet into the water and
Graeme lay on the stone lip, stretching out his long, lithe body. Lucius
reached for a towel and wet it. Began bathing the body of his second.
"How many wished to correct one another? And how were you wounded? Did she
wound you?" Lucius asked as he used the wet cloth to clean away the blood,
running it over every inch of visible skin. Graeme watched with half-closed
eyes. His hair was spread out around him across the rough stone floor, like a
cape of copper-red waves.
"She had a knife hidden in her skirt, she struck one of those who disagreed
with her view. I removed the knife, but the fight was on by then. No weapons,
teeth and claws only. Some of the younger pride members, not skilled fighters
yet. She lashed out with the knife. She cut me before I knocked it away.
Shallow, not serious, my king. She splashed me with her own blood. And then I
separated the fighters." Amrys tried to sound nonchalant, but Lucius shook his
head and Amrys hung his.
"How many fought?" The king asked.
"Six. Their injuries are painful, but not fatal, my king. I made certain they
would remember the cost of fighting." Amrys told the taller, heavier man, jaw
set.
"Were you inattentive? Distracted from the fight, that you were injured
yourself?" Lucius moved the cloth over the cuts, bathing them thoroughly. He
nodded towards the water.
"In." He ordered. His sister was not above using poison to taint her knife.
Unlikely as she also cut herself, and would in any case suffer more than any
lycanthrope she cut, but not impossible. She was devious, and determined that
she would eventually get her way. Amrys obeyed the order, slipping into the
water and letting it soak into his skin, his cuts stinging mildly. He answered
Lucius' question.
"No. They were determined to inflict damage. On each other and on me. I did not
want to permit them to harm her or to let her harm herself by attacking them.
She is the heir's Mother." Now the defiance, made necessary by the knowledge he
had made an error in judgment. Lucius leaned down and pulled Amrys nearer so he
could continue to clean the wounds. He said nothing for a few long minutes,
letting Amrys stew.
Lucius had found the lacerations under the blood, a thin streak across the top
of Amrys' chest, long scratches down his arms, a faint one across his throat.
Not serious, that was true. But....Lucius pursed his lips hard. His eyes were
hot silver when he looked up.
"And if she precipitated the fight did she not deserve to take some of the
damage? Am I in error to presume she egged the fighters on? I will not have you
take the consequences of her actions, Des. That is not what role you play, are
we understood?" Lucius said quietly, firm. His hand gripped the tanned face,
turned it so their eyes met, and held, the shared gaze holding great weight.
"Yes, my king." Amrys admitted reluctantly, looking into the eyes of his king.
Lucius grimaced at the hangdog expression, the shame. He dunked his Des under
the surface of the water. Held him under for a split second. Then let him rise,
short hair dripping. Graeme regarded them upside down, face solemn. One leg now
dangled into the pool.
"I can not have such things happening." Lucius said. "Not even to protect the
person of the heir's Mother. Next time you will not risk damage from protecting
her from her own foolishness. It is not a minor thing. She seeks to undermine
my power. You are a large part of that power, Amrys. She will not succeed in
her attempts to remove you." Lucius reminded the man.
"I understand, my king." Amrys answered immediately. He raised his hand up to
place it over the one that still held his chin.
"I should not need to tell you this. You are listening Graeme?" The king asked
sternly.
"I am listening, my alpha." Graeme replied silky smooth. He blinked his blue
eyes with deceptive laziness and rolled onto his stomach.
"Good. I will not expect to tell you again." Lucius tossed the bloodstained
towel aside. "There has been a witness found to the last attack and killing.
She swore under veritaserum that she saw me walk from the site." Lucius looked
up to meet their intent eyes. He saw shock on both faces.
"She passed the questioning, she is telling the truth. Dumbledore has expressed
his... concern." Lucius' lips curled, baring one long fang.
"Lucius?" Graeme asked, no longer reclining, but upright. Brow wrinkling in
worry. he crept closer on all fours, sinuous, graceful instead of human-ly
awkward.
"I can not explain it. But, I know it was not me, not under spell, nor
compulsion. It is not possible. And I have more than enough witnesses to that
effect. I was at the gathering when this one attack occurred. I am not so great
a wizard that I could fool so many. I could not be the two places at once. I
have told Dumbledore of this. He has confirmed it with interrogation of some of
the pride. He is satisfied for now." The leopard king, snarled silently. "But,
I will not allow some one to continue to impersonate me. And to kill while in
my guise."
The three heads suddenly lifted in unison and turned towards the doorway.
Lucius stood.
"Yes, Tanith?" He called out, "I am here." An older woman came into the doorway
of the bathing room. Her dark hair was touched with grey, her face lightly
lined with he marks of age.
"Sire," She bowed her neck to him. He returned the gesture.
"I am not the Sire, Seer Tanith. I am merely the king. I am not the Father of
the heir." He reminded her, but gently, with indulgence.
"But for a cruel trick played on you, you would be Sire." She corrected him
without rancor. Her chin lifted.
He smiled at her with honest affection. "How may I help you, Seer?"
"Three of the human women have come to me. They seek to be turned. They say it
is only right that they be given the right to choose, just as the men are
given." The Seer responded.
"And have they children among them? Are they barren?" Lucius inquired. Watching
her face as she answered him.
"Between them there are four children. One is barren, she has not bred despite
attempts to carry. The medi-witch is certain she can not." Tanith told him, she
watched as Graeme stirred and reached out to run a hand over Amrys' back while
the Des floated in the pool.
"The one who is barren, does she have your support?" He took in her nod. "Then
she may have the choice. The other two I will meet with. Bring them to me
tomorrow. I will decide. Is there more, Seer?"
"No. No more, Sire." She inclined her head. He reached out and cupped her face
with genuine affection.
"Then I have more personal matters to see to. My son is approaching." He had
one ear cocked, picking up the light footsteps of his human son.
 
Draco passed the stout woman leaving his father's resting room. She inclined
her head in a motion so at ease, it was regal. He returned her nod. Tanith, the
female's Seer. She had been a second mother to him when he was young, before
his mother's deception had been found out. Now, they passed each other without
speaking. There was no anger there, just overwhelming sorrow and
disappointment. The pain was too great for them to be at ease with one another.
"Draco." His father embraced him. Draco saw the blood on his arms.
"What has happened?" The young man exclaimed, anxiously.
"It is less than nothing. Do not worry. Would you care to bathe?" Lucius
offered.
"No. I came to see my Mother. But I wanted to visit you first. I have missed
seeing you. I have to get back to Hogwarts soon. The Headmaster has a curfew
set."
"Yes. Though the attacks have not occurred late at night it seems a wise
precaution. Take an escort with you when you return. I wish them to remain with
you until the killer is caught." Lucius held his son against him.
"I will be fine." Draco assured his father.
"I wish you to be safe." Lucius insisted. "Take them. Perhaps, Yaji and
Mantheer?" He named off two of Draco's favorites. The two men doted on him.
Treated him as royalty. Spoiled him at every opportunity.
Draco mock sighed. "Oh well, if I must." His grin belied his words.
"Good." Lucius smoothed the pale hair of his son back off his forehead. "Use
caution. Trust no one. Now I must attend to the problems of the pride...." He
leaned in and kissed Draco's cheek.
Draco fought to keep the spike of pain off of his face. Once he would have been
included. As training to take over the pride some day. He forced the hurt away
as he watched Lucius disappear into the bathing room.
As he turned to leave, Draco saw the bloodied towel. He fought down his guilt
as he grabbed it and wrapped it in his robe to conceal it.
Professor Trelawny's vision had prophesied that it was possible for him to be
turned once his curse was lifted. To do that she needed the blood of Draco's
father. Her spell would weaken his mother's blood within his body, and
strengthen his father's. Thus the curse would fall. And Draco would be turned.
Draco would be the heir, and his father would no longer be disappointed in him.
He hurried out of the room.
 
Andromeda held the scrying bowl in her two hands. She set the brimming bowl on
the altar. Very carefully she measured out three tiny drops of the serum. And
she waved her wand over the suddenly milky surface. She blew a breath across
the surface and whispered the name of the one she sought.
"Syyybbiiill........." She breathed, more a thought than a sound. And the
features of the Hogwarts' divination's teacher appeared in the surface of the
water.
"Draco has obtained more blood, He is bringing it to you."
The worried lines on the professor's face smoothed out, and she smiled. "Ah,
good. Our plan is moving along well. Very well indeed."
***** Chapter 11 *****
Chapter 11
The long pale-furred, tawny were-cat padded silently through the corridors of
the Manor.
Its sleek sides rippled and bunched with muscle as it went. Its fur was the
exact shade of its hair color as a man, but even softer now, like silken
silver-gold threads. The rosettes that decorated his fur were a palest brown,
like faint shadows on his blond fur. Large, grey eyes regarded everything with
sharp observance, as he traversed his home.
Behind him, in the room he had left, his second and third slept on, two big
feline bodies curled warmly together after a long night spent talking and
problem solving. Amrys was entirely healed after changing to his leopard form.
The change always healed minor injuries and healed the major ones more rapidly
that they would heal if Amrys stayed in human form. Graeme had spent time
grooming his friend and now was wrapped around him like a blanket.
Lucius watched the others he encountered as he went. Mostly his guardians, the
night watchers, guarding those who were asleep. A few late night/early morning
stragglers, or those running from furs to furs. He smiled at that. The same
urge had struck him just now. He was headed to satisfy that urge, as well as to
check on the well-being of his newest kitten.
Lucius arrived in the sleeping room his young-lings used and entered
soundlessly, walking over to the furs, still in were-cat form. Two of the
young-lings remained in the sleeping pile, the others having gotten up and
moved on for the rest of the night or all ready up for the morning.
A sniff told him who the red-haired one was, the twin Fred and the other was
his newest kitten, Harry. That was good, his two marked ones. The big leopard
crawled into the furs between the two warm bodies, stretched out long and
comfortable.
Lucius stuck his muzzle into the salty, sweet throat of the new kitten, nuzzled
him, let his tongue flick out for a sensuous taste. Slow lick. Wonderful flavor
of skin, sweat, and sleeping youth. He squirmed closer. Lucius proceeded to
bathe both of the sleeping young men with delicate, lazy strokes of his tongue.
Fred smiled and stretched into the wet lapping caresses, understanding what it
was even as he dozed.
Harry woke with a start, something....he turned, and let out an abbreviated
screech. A hand over his mouth stopped the sound from growing to ear splitting
range. Fred pressed close to him, whispering soothing noises to him. Harry saw
the leopard in front of him and opened his mouth to yell out for help.
"Hush. It is our king. He visits us. It is an honor." Fred scolded him, calmly.
"You got it under control now?" He asked suspiciously when he saw Harry's eyes
still wide, startled. Harry shivered as the licking resumed, the cat bending
its head back to its chosen task. Fred sighed blissfully as the tongue traveled
from Harry to Fred's own skin. His hand relaxed, eased from Harry's face.
Harry nodded. And Fred removed his hand all the way. Harry gasped almost
sitting upright. The cat turned over, long tail dragging over the young man's
skin. It rippled, Harry blinked. The cat became a man. Became Lucius Malfoy.
Harry's eyes couldn't get any larger. They were two blinking green saucers.
Lucius snaked an arm around Fred, pulled him nearer, under his body. Fred went
willingly, his arms snaking around the torso of his king. They rubbed along the
length of their bodies. Fred arching into the larger man, surrendering control
happily. Harry watched and started to edge away. Lucius' arm reached out,
snagged a-hold of him, kept him pressed to the two melded bodies.
Lucius spread his young-ling's legs, moved up between them, as Fred moaned his
eagerness. Fred's hips rose to meet Lucius' thrusts, their erections sliding
together, leaking. Growing wetter and slicker rapidly. Lucius continued licking
over Fred's face and neck. He moved on to Harry after he had thoroughly covered
Fred's available skin.
Harry tried to tense, tried to move away, but the long slow licks were
mesmerizing, addictive. Pleasurable. Fantastic, arousing. Harry fought against
the urge he had to lean in to the lapping strokes and he lost. He ended up flat
on his back under the leopard king's mouth.
Fred let out a cry, panted, writhed and peaked when Lucius growled out his own
release. Lucius held Harry next to them, the youth squirming, feeling the
moving bodies intimately, his own growing interest hard against the other men's
hips. Harry groaned, small and needful, when the other two orgasmed, just short
of his own pleasure. Lucius slid over, wetting Harry's skin with the mixed
semen from his and Fred's orgasm.
Harry had to see, had to feel, wanting and needing more. This time he wanted
his own release. Needed it desperately. But Fred was drifting off back to
sleep. Harry whimpered, Lucius looked into the big green eyes, his face moving
closer. He kissed the kitten. Long and deep. Driving his tongue into the
seeking mouth, sucking on it, feeding on Harry's desperate desire.
Harry rode Lucius' thigh, the king supporting him, a hand lifting and holding
them close, letting the kitten ride him. Harry gasped, so close, so close. He
cried out, finally, finally reaching satisfaction, coming hard, in pulsing jets
all along Lucius' thigh.
'Oh, god, at last.' Was Harry's thought before he curled up and slept, wedged
between the two larger bodies.
***** Chapter 12 *****
Chapter 12
 
Professor Trelawny found herself in a quandary. Draco had brought in blood,
just as he'd agreed to. But it had been soaked in a towel. God, she'd nearly
screamed at him in frustration at the idiocy. Essentially unusable in the state
it was delivered to her. Yet, there was no alternative but to make the specimen
usable somehow.
She was reduced to using spring water to wash the blood out of the fabric,
collecting it in a large cauldron. Then she did a drying and concentrating
spell, slow and painstaking work. She couldn't risk boiling the cauldron, the
blood might be adulterated if she did. So she had to wait. Watch the precious
minutes ticking by.
That stupid boy! She could hardly credit that he'd brought her a blood soaked
towel. He should have known she needed a better sample. But if she waited for a
new one the time-line would be off. And Andromeda Malfoy might not be so
willing to help her next time. Andromeda had her own agenda and time-line to
keep. Sybil was on her own unless she could make this work, and soon.
What she should do, she thought, as she labored over the cauldron, was find
some rat blood, and mix that up in the potion she was preparing for Draco. Make
the brat pay for this. Transfigure him into a rodent. Permanently, if possible.
See how the great were-cat Malfoy liked having a rat for a son. Maybe he'd eat
him before he figured it out. She actually smiled at that.
Finally Trelawny had an ounce of blood distilled and filtered. She felt a surge
of triumph over her success. Carefully she decanted the blood into a vial and
set about cleaning the cauldron she was going to use for the blood-polyjuice
potion. That completed, she set out all of her supplies, then went to purify
herself.
Back to her private lab in less than half an hour, Trelawny began the potion.
Her door was secured, the lights shielded, the room sound proofed. No one would
disturb her, not even Draco. She had told him the potion was complex, that she
needed time to get it just right. He was waiting for her to contact him. To
meet him at the prearranged place at the prearranged time.
The ingredients went in at precisely the right intervals despite her need to
hurry. She stirred the brew with infinite patience learned from a long life of
divination, learning to wait for the visions that would tell all, not to rush
them, or force them. She took the same care with this.
If she'd had the inclination, she could have been as good as the other
Hogwarts' victim of the churlish and ungrateful students, Professor Snape. But
Potions had never caught her interest the same way that reading the future had.
Divining what was to come, reading people's fate. She'd had the necessary
sympathy to do the task. She'd cared deeply, advising the sometimes difficult
clients and offering solutions they rarely took. Their loss. It was not her
problem that they, by their failure to listen and act, failed to grasp their
promised fates. One had to work to make things happen. Destiny required effort.
The potion was just as thick, just as viscous, just as smelly. She steeled
herself to drink it, gulping it quickly, wanting to have what it gave her.
Power. Respect. Fear.
There had been true fear on the faces of the miserable students she'd
confronted and killed. Mind-numbing fear, fear that froze them in their tracks,
fear so great that she felt a rush of satisfaction, of delight course through
her at the simple memory of it. She'd held their fates in her hands, uh, paws,
and she'd made their futures for them. She had seen death for them. Her
predictions had, naturally, some true. She was, after all, a visionary.
She drank the potion when it was ready, hot, steaming, bubbling in the beaker.
Then she waited.
The rush was stronger this time. Her skin crawled, morphed, itched more
intensely. She shuddered. The blood impurities had to be the reason. But she
waited. It would work, she sensed it. She knew it would work. She would take
care of the problem for Andromeda this night. She would take care of Draco, son
of Lucius. She would break the spirit of the were-leopard king by slaughtering
his son, leaving only a bloody heap of flesh to be found. Then she would take
his place as king of his animal-people. She bared her teeth in satisfaction.
 
Draco walked from his dormitory and out onto the darkening grounds. Professor
Trelawny had told him to wait here for a quarter of an hour just after sunset.
Draco had looked sunset up in his grimoire and timed his arrival to the minute.
He waited, out of sight, not wanting un-needed and undesired questions.
A dragging sound caught his attention. At hearing a crackling in the brush, he
pushed up off the wall he rested against. The sounds grew louder, and another
joined them, a horrible moaning sound, low but unbelievably chilling, like an
animal or person in such pain as to be driven beyond human sounds. His hair
raised and he inched further onto the path, back towards the buildings of
Hogwarts' main hall, permitting himself unfettered access to escape.
Draco had grown up around shape-shifters all his life. There were many
varieties. Feline, his personal favorite for obvious reasons, canine, rodent,
and rarer forms, like seals, dolphins, that sort of thing. But he'd never seen
anything resembling the horror that shambled with desperate and ungainly haste
toward him now.
Blond haired, pale as ice in the dark, corpse pale, waxy skin, half human and
half lycanthrope face, half male, half female. Fangs protruding, obscene in the
humanoid mouth. Bristling with devouring menace, eyes crazed, and clawed hands
reaching out to grasp at his shirt, lurching closer. Drool ran down the pointed
chin, the familiar eyes...he couldn't quite make sense of them, couldn't place
them, not in conjunction with the awful thing they were combined with. It
dragged itself towards him far too fast. Instant adrenaline pumped through him.
Fight or flight, his body asked. Flight won, hands down.
Draco screamed and ran, the scrabbling claws not finding sufficient purchase to
stop him in his agitated flight.
***** Chapter 13 *****
Chapter 13
 
Mantheer groaned, rolling over until he lay supine on the floor. His head was
pounding like a big, bass drum was stuck inside, banging away. Merlin, what a
migraine. He struggled and managed to sit up, carefully rotating his head on
his stiff neck. The bones creaked, muscles shuddering.
He had no doubts as to what had happened. The catnip tea prepared for him as a
courtesy, well, something a little stronger had been added to it before he and
Yaji drank it. Obvious enough. By Draco. The son of his king. A young man he
had trusted. The young man he adored.
Yaji was out cold, his breathing more of a rough, irregular snore than the
usual quiet inhalation and exhalation as he slept. He'd taken the lion's share
of the tea that Draco had offered them. Mantheer had taken only a third of it.
The big, brown haired man was flat on his back, arms akimbo, mouth open, slack.
Mantheer crawled woozily over to him, leaned across to check him, cringed back
at the smell of his breath. Yech, what ever drug it had been, it left behind a
foul stench. Come to think of it, his own mouth tasted bad. Very bad.
A scream split the air. Mantheer's head jerked up, he tried to gain his feet,
wobbling, cursing his lack of coordination and balance. Fell. Tried again. Fell
for a second time, or possibly a third as he surely hadn't lain on the floor
willingly, not while in human form. Another scream, in a voice he knew, running
feet coming this way, lightning fast. Draco. The fear scent preceded him. A
sour taint.
Mantheer grit his teeth, stayed on his hands and knees, forced the change to
come to him. It ripped through him, heightening his nausea at first, then
eliminating it in a rush of power and adrenaline. He was ready to fight as the
young man in question broke into the room, panic written in every line of him.
Sweat coursed down the youth's unnaturally pale face.
Draco flew straight at Mantheer once he'd seen the massive, black coated
leopard. Throwing himself at the cat-man. Grasping, frantic arms grabbed onto
Mantheer tight enough to restrict his blood flow. He turned, swiveling his body
to protect Draco from whatever might follow and come barreling through the open
doors, baring his formidable fangs, arching his back.
But nothing pursued the boy. Mantheer gradually relaxed, let his muscles
loosen, let his body ease back to human form enough to hold out his arms and
enfold Draco in a calming embrace. The young man was sobbing, terrified.
Reeking with the unpleasant stench of fear. Mantheer petted him, alternately
speaking and purring at him to ease his terror.
"What has frightened you like this? After you went to all the trouble of
drugging us? Now you are afraid? Of what, kitten?" Mantheer rumbled, not
forgetting to check for sounds out in the hall. Nothing, no unknown sounds, but
there were feet hurrying along the corridor. A dozen of them. All human. All
coming to this room, unless Mantheer misjudged them.
"Malfoy! What in Merlin's name?" It was the strong voice of the Head of
Slytherin, Professor Snape. The man who smelled of herbs and bugs all the time.
Mantheer pushed the door open with one toe. He continued to cradle the
distraught boy in his arms. His expression was bland, his brows were not.
And it was echoed by the impassive man in the doorway, wand clasped firmly at
the ready, behind him, children's faces craning to see around him. Snape shooed
them away, impatiently.
The dark eyes took in the figure of the snoring lycanthrope on the floor. And
the half-man, half-cat holding Draco. His nose twitched. He sniffed at the
rancid odor in the air.
"Who has been using..." he wrinkled his impressive nose, "pep-away
and....catnip?" The last was incredulous. He waved at the air with a long, pale
hand, grimacing in disgust. Clearly deciding Mantheer was no threat. Not
wrapped up in Draco the way he was.
"It..." Draco managed, stuttering. "It...it...it...."
Snape's dark eyes slitted, his lips parting in a hiss. "It?"
"The thing that has attacked and killed the others?" Mantheer exclaimed in
sudden understanding. "Did you see it? Where was it?"
"I...I...I..." Draco swallowed. "It...it was out on...on the grounds b-b-by the
courtyard." He wheezed out the information.
Mantheer thrust Draco into the arms of his professor.
He sped out into the darkening night, following his nose more than Draco's
directions. He found its spoor. Confusing. Many smells. Familiar but not
familiar. Scents which in combination raised the hair at his nape. He could not
follow the trail far. Because it wasn't the same one he'd found at first.
The scent changed, mutated too often. It began to blend with the scents of
others, pure, clean scents, the scents of children. No more fear scent. It had
not been seen, or if it had been, it was no longer frightening to the students.
His hackles bristled, warningly. It was not a natural creature, this one. It
stank of evil spells and dark magic.
Mantheer gave up tracking the thing at last. He returned to Draco's room in the
Slytherin dormitory. Draco could very well be lying dead right now while he and
Yaji slept on in drugged oblivion. The escape had been luck, and only that.
Snape was the only one still in the room with Draco and Yaji when Mantheer
reached the rrom. Yaji was crouched over a pail, emptying his stomach of the
remainder of the tea he'd ingested. His long leopard's tail thumped the floor
miserably. The rest of him was human.
Mantheer strode right over to Draco. He stood for a moment, absolutely still,
trying to control his rage. He didn't want to do real harm to the foolish young
man. But, he did intend to punish him for the near fatal stunt.
He reached down with careful man-hands. Picked Draco up. Gently sitting down,
draping the boy over his lap. He then proceeded to spank him, hard, firm and
with authority. His hand rose and fell.
Draco.
Would.
Never.
Do anything.
Like this.
Ever.
Again.
Draco wailed.
***** Chapter 14 *****
Chapter 14
 
Lucius slammed both fists onto the top of the table. The heavy mahogany table
shook with the force of the blows. He roared, head thrown back. The three men
in the room with him remained where they were, with a little extra effort,
muscles tight. When he looked back down, his eyes had changed, gone fierce and
bestial.
When those eyes fell on him, Yaji chose to kneel down next to the table, at
Lucius' feet. Lucius instinctively acknowledged the move, reaching out one
hand, touching the bowed head. No rage was in his hand until it left the soft
hair of his leopard-guardian. Then it became a fist. Graeme and Amrys stayed on
their feet, Graeme closest to the door, Amrys only a few feet away from Lucius.
Both men wary, poised to react.
"Bring him to me." The leopard king, growled, lifting his eyes to Amrys', but
his hand going once more to touch Yaji, so the man knew who the order went to.
His lips were drawn back from his teeth. Yaji, the guard who had just given the
report on the happenings at Hogwarts, rose to his feet in a rush of liquid
motion and moved towards the door.
"He has already been punished, Lucius." Amrys murmured, raising a hand to stop
Yaji in mid-step. The large guardian did stop, but he looked back over his
shoulder at Lucius as he did so. Amrys shifted, trying to draw Lucius'
attention, his feral eyes, to himself.
"Who is king? Is Amrys your king, Yaji? Is that why you hesitate to obey my
command? Why can Amrys stop you from carrying out my order?" Lucius snarled,
his pale-fire gaze moving between the two men, his shoulders rolling forward,
giving him a menacing, ready to leap posture.
"No, alpha. You are my king." Yaji's voice was full of awe and conviction, as
he met his king's gaze, unflinching. "I obey you."
Amrys cut in, his short hair ruffled by the way he was running his fingers
through it. "Lucius! Wait, I beg of you. Wait until you have calmed. Draco is
human. He is not one of your cats. He is far more vulnerable."
"And he might well have died! You can not be more vulnerable than that.
Irresponsible. He drugged the guards I sent to protect him. Poisoned Yaji here
with the size of the dose. If Yaji were human, he would be dead. Draco is a
wizard and adult. He should not make these kind of errors. When he does there
must be consequences. He nearly got himself killed trying to meet his professor
to get some unsanctioned spell or potion to turn himself into a were-leopard.
All without my approval, actually in opposition to me. He has assaulted my
people, my leopards. How can I not punish him for it?" The king spat out, his
fingers and hands morphing into clawed paws, digging deep furrows into the top
of the table with a screeching sound as the wood gave way.
"He is your son! He is not a lycanthrope. He wishes to be one. All his life he
has wanted to be what you wanted. Your heir. He is young. He made a mistake.
Mantheer has already punished him. He acted as a child trying to live up to the
dreams of his father, he was punished as a child this night. Let it be enough,
I beg of you." Amrys pleaded, shifting to reposition himself.
Lucius snarled, swiping his arm out, sending everything on top of the table
within reach crashing to the floor, or against the far wall. Amrys stepped
forward, hesitant, hands out away from his sides.
Graeme actually moved away, into the hall and motioned to the group of unhappy
lycanthropes who were standing there. Mantheer was among them, Draco clinging
to his arm, his light blue eyes huge in his white face. Draco looked up into
Graeme's unfriendly face.
"Find Fred Weasley, or that Potter kit." Graeme told a man standing on the
periphery of the group. "Hurry!"
Perhaps Lucius' rage could be diverted into another urge. A craving still
physical but, far less dangerous. As if the boy, Draco, deserved to have such a
thing done for him. Graeme was all for the young man taking his lumps. But,
Amrys was right, he wasn't a lycanthrope, and later, Lucius would regret it if
the boy was seriously hurt.
The man took off at a running lope. A second man followed until the bend in the
hall, then he went one way while the first man went the other.
Amrys was now very close to Lucius. He leaned in, not offering his throat this
time, he didn't want to endure having it ripped out. He lowered his head
submissively. Swayed in, showing his respect and his lower status. He sank to
his knees, just as Yaji had done. Graeme reentered the room. He, too dropped to
his knees and crawled forward.
"Please my king, do not do something you will regret. I beg of you."
"You tell me to govern my son by rules that differ from all the rest? How can I
do that? He is my son. He has done wrong, his betrayal strikes me far deeper
than any other member of my pride's would. He can not be above our laws."
Lucius' voice revealed the full measure of pain he was feeling.
Lucius was still for one more long, tension filled minute, head hanging
forward. Then he leaped.
Amrys, coming up from his position on the floor, met him in mid leap. Graeme
was a split second later. The two subordinate males clashed with the dominant
alpha, all changing in midair, so where once three men were, now three brawling
were-cats fought.
The sound of the fighting, far from increasing the tension outside in the hall,
actually let a wave of relief move through those gathered. The dominant three
would work this one out. There was no need for the rest to decide. Amrys and
Graeme were doing their duty to their king. Taking the heat. Keeping him from
making a decision he would regret. Making it possible for him to back down.
 
It was Potter and Blaise who showed up in tow with one of the men who had
searched for the marked young-lings. Fred was no where to be found. A howl,
followed by many deep snarls made Harry jump back and turn to flee as they
approached the cluster in the hall.
Kaithas reached out and grabbed Harry's shirt, keeping him there.
"Stop. Don't be afraid, kitten. Take a breath. Good." Harry fastened both hands
on the dark man's forearms, he was trembling. His eyes flicked towards the open
doorway.
"I am not going in there." Harry said firmly, pushing against the hold the man
had on him. Jerking against it. "They are fighting. I can hear it. They can
fight it out amongst themselves. I can't do anything, except get killed. So,
forget it."
"Who told you you had to go in?" Kaithas tried to be distracting.
The young man looked at him. "Oh, please. I get dragged here and all of you are
outside waiting, and *they* are inside. My luck is....I am supposed to go
inside. No. Way."
Mantheer came up next to them. Harry looked up, and up. The tall man looked
down at him.
"Marked One. Has no one told you what it is you exist for?" The deep voice
rumbled. Harry was not impressed.
"My name is Potter. And I've heard all this before. 'You exist to do one
thing'. Well I've done it. I killed Voldemort. I am through with duty and
destiny." Harry snapped. Mantheer regarded him silently, then reached out and
took a handful of his shirt, shaking him once, hard.
"I don't care if you have killed Lord Voldemort and every one of his followers.
That is the past. You have new duties now. Now it is your duty to serve this
pride and its king. He has marked you as his chosen. You will go to him. You
will do it." Mantheer scowled down at the youth he held up on his tip-toes.
Harry jerked one of his arms free, hung from the other, pulled hard on it. His
brows were drawn down, he hissed through clenched teeth. "No."
"You will go in there, you will save Draco from his father. You will keep our
king from doing what he must not do." Mantheer said, his voice no louder than
before. But much more threatening.
"What?" Harry asked in confusion. His eyes were drawn to the other side of the
group, to the blond young man waiting against the wall. Draco. They frowned
hard at each other.
"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded.
***** Chapter 15 *****
Chapter 15
 
Harry looked up at Mantheer. His gaze traveled to the next man, Kaithas, the
pride Seer. Then he looked over at Draco who was slouched at the end of the
grouping of lycanthropes, pretending to ignore them all. Standing apart, Draco
managed to give off more hostile misery than Harry remembered seeing from him
before.
"Let me go." Something in his voice must have convinced the men holding onto
him that they should listen to him, because both of them let go. Kaithas
frowned at him, jaw jumping, sharp eyes probing Harry's face. Assessing him
with the depth of a Seer's gift.
"What are you planning?" Kaithas asked him, bluntly. He didn't know the young
man well enough to predict his actions. This situation was delicate enough,
volatile enough, without adding a wild card to the mix. No one here could
afford an escalation.
"I am waiting for someone to tell me what is going on." Harry replied, brushing
his fingers over the reddened area where Mantheer's hand had been. He turned
his attention back to Draco. He pinned his classmate with a stony glare.
"Draco? How about it?"
Draco shook his head. He'd rather endure whatever punishment his father dished
out. He wasn't about to explain to Potter what he'd done and why. Not when
Harry was a were-leopard and Draco was not. Harry once again had what Draco
wanted, what he craved, what he needed so badly. He was not going to ask him
for help. No way. He turned his head aside, looking down the hall.
"No, then? OK. Anyone else feeling up to telling me? And I don't mean
the...'it's what you are meant to do'...crap, either." Harry snapped,
impatiently. "I have heard all that, been there and done it. Not gonna do it
that way, again. So, talk."
"It is the role of the claimed..." Mantheer's heavy growl began. Harry's brows
lowered and he began to glower. Kaithas' voice interrupted, hastily.
"No, Mantheer. Let me." The Seer turned to face the newest kitten. One who was
not acting as a kitten usually did. Intriguing and very annoying when taking
orders would speed things along. Kittens were meant to obey. To do as they were
told to do.
"Draco made a mistake. He tried to find a way to be turned into a were-leopard.
In so doing he broke faith with his guards and with his father. Lucius, our
alpha king feels he has no choice but to punish his son, severely. As he would
any member of the pride for doing something like this. For betraying the pride
like this. For disobeying the king's order." Kaithas began.
"Draco is not lycanthrope. He has been punished. He can not endure more."
Mantheer rumbled low in his great chest. "He is human, he will break, he will
not heal as one of us." The man was the size of a mountain, Harry's eyes darted
away, looking elsewhere.
"OK." Harry said, when it became apparent no further words were forthcoming.
Both were-leopards were looking at him like the rest was obvious. It wasn't, at
least not to Harry. He resisted the urge to pull his hair out.
"So what does this have to do with you wanting me to go in there, with you
throwing me to the wolves?" He asked. The guard looked blank, the Seer let a
small, unwilling smile grace his lips. He fought it back down before it became
a laugh. It would not do to encourage rebellious behavior in the kitten.
"There are no wolves, here, just the pride." Mantheer growled. Kaithas
interrupted again.
"You are one of his chosen. One of the King's Chosen. You can distract him with
your body, with sex. You can keep him from hurting or killing his son." He said
it quietly, his eyes fixing on Harry's.
"Oh." Harry said. It was simple after all. He was expected to go into the room
with the battling leopards and seduce Lucius Malfoy. Make him forget Draco.
Save Draco's life. By wiggling his bottom. Harry really, really didn't want to
go into the room. The sounds he was hearing from there were not enticing or
reassuring. He could smell blood. Goose bumps pimpled his skin. He was afraid
to go in there, into that room with the fight going on.
If he didn't, these men were telling him Draco might die. Draco drove Harry
crazy with his attitude, his sneering put downs. But, Harry didn't want Draco
to be hurt, or killed. Especially not by his father. There was something even
more wrong about that than a boy his age dying from a stranger's hand. Worse
than Harry offering himself to the man, the lycanthrope in that room. For sex.
Harry swallowed hard.
He lifted his eyes from the floor. From contemplating his bare, wriggling toes.
He nodded, reluctantly.
Kaithas stopped Mantheer from grabbing the kitten's arm. He put an arm around
the youth and hugged him. Leading him to the door way. Stopping just short of
it, he turned Harry to face him.
"He will not hurt you. He will probably scare you. Don't resist. Amrys and
Graeme won't hurt you, either. You belong to our king. You will be safe." He
gave Harry a small nudge forward.
"I can't go in with you. If they see me, it will only make things worse." He
explained. "They have done this before, with each other. They know how to fight
amongst themselves. Adding me to the mix,...it would not be beneficial." Harry
nodded. He gulped, drew in a deep breath, and stepped hesitantly into the room.
At first nothing happened. Well, nothing changed. Everything kept right on
happening. The fighting raged.
There was surprisingly little blood, was the first thing Harry noticed. Lots of
noise, roaring, and snarling, lots of thumps, when heavy blows landed. Heaving
sides, and flailing limbs. But for the most part, the claws on all of the three
were sheathed. They were fighting, earnestly, but not out to kill each other.
Harry took another step into the room. One of the cats landed on all fours,
facing him. Harry flinched. Hands going out, and up, as if it would stop the
cat. He had no more chance of warding the man-animal off than stopping a train
with only his outstretched palms.
He noted the dark copper-brown fur, the black rosettes dotting it here and
there. There was one bloody scratch across the cat's muzzle. It's lips were
pulled back, teeth revealed in a threat-snarl. Four inch fangs gleamed. The
cat's nose twitched. Its head lifted. And it backed off, fast.
Only to be replaced by the bigger form of the palest of the three were-cats. A
hulking brute of silvery, gold marked fur. Spattered here and there with blood,
yet mostly uninjured, as far as Harry could see. It slunk forward, deadly
intent, creeping on all fours, belly close to the ground, eyes fixed, ravenous,
on Harry. The long tail lashed, hypnotically, side to side. It sniffed, again,
and again. Each sniff darkening those so primordial eyes.
It came forward in a sudden rush. Running into Harry hard, thrusting its nose
into his chest, pushing him down. Harry tried to fall gracefully, failed,
ending sprawled on his backside, bruisingly hard. The cat kept coming, moving
right up over Harry, pressing its hot, furred underside to the youth's front.
Pushing him all the way flat, muzzle rooting around Harry's throat, letting out
repeated growls, low and warning. Breath hot on Harry's stretched throat.
Chuffing snorts of air.
Harry fought to hold the squeal of distress in. He knew sound might provoke the
beast. He held very still. One huge paw went to his middle, claws raking with
precision, slicing through Harry's clothes, but not his flesh. Harry's felt his
skin jumping in uncontrollable reaction to the near miss. He felt each long
wickedly curved claw as it slid over his vulnerable skin, slick and hard as
polished ivory.
The cat lowered more of its weight onto the young man. Harry squirmed. The cat
growled warningly. Working with its back paws to shred the pants off its prey,
until Harry lay mostly nude, shivering, scared. He couldn't stop his hands from
lifting, fisting in the thick fur, holding on tight. He had to hold on to
something. Anything. A deep purr rumbled throughout his whole body, the cat on
top of him telegraphing approval, pleasure.
A second purr and then a third answered the first. Harry could see one of the
other cats, flat to the floor, belly-creeping closer. Head lowered to just
above the ground. It was watching him with glittering, predatory, brown eyes.
Harry yelped, trying to squirm away. The big cat on top of him hissed, and the
other animal stopped its forward progress for a moment, licking its jaws
nervously.
Harry was trapped. He felt the were-cat shift its back paws, positioning them
between Harry's legs, forcing them wider apart, so Harry felt that incredible,
more than human heat settle against his inner thighs. He whimpered, adjusting
side to side, which only resulted in his instinctive lifting of legs to slide
along the beast's sides. He did not want to do it, not this way, especially. He
did not want to do this with an animal, not even one he knew was really a man.
He felt the slick heat of the were-cats genitals along his pelvis.
"No." Harry pleaded. He pushed up, pulling at the fur clutched in his fists.
"No! Lucius. No. Please. Be human for me. Please."
The cat heaved closer, its hard, erect tip touching Harry intimately. Harry
cried out. Then the beast changed. One minute a cat, the next a man. Still
positioned to penetrate him, still dripping, wet, hot and ready. Harry was
counting his blessings. He didn't resist. At least his first time would be with
a man, not a were-animal. He relaxed as much as he could, wrapped his legs
around Lucius. Felt the smooth skin of the man's chest rub over his tautened
nipples. He sighed. That was good.
Lucius eased forward, sliding into the tight young body a fraction of an inch.
The youth was not resisting, he rumbled his satisfaction. He let off the
pressure for an instant, then pushed in again. Gentle, slow, easy. This was his
Marked. His Marked should never be hurt or injured in sex. Back and forth,
Lucius' body providing the necessary lubrication, dripping with his state of
high arousal.
He felt the first real penetration, heard the quick indrawn breath from the boy
underneath him. Good. He was in, just a bit, but now he moved forward with
greater ease. In and out. deeper with each stroke, Harry's moans growing.
Pleasure, and pain, a tinge of fear, Lucius caught the scent, and moved to
alleviate the fear. He licked the boy's face. Snuffled along his ear. Licked
again.
Lucius felt the two long sinuous, furred bodies stealing closer, rubbing along
either side of his and the Marked one's bodies. He did not try to dissuade
them, just continued to carefully thrust, gaining deeper entry into the tight
hot place that was the focus of all his need. He pumped his hips. Harry cried
out. Lucius growled, licked the open, panting mouth. Let his tongue explore
inside.
Harry was filled to capacity, he thought. The king was too big, he couldn't
take it. Couldn't take all of him. He opened his mouth to cry out, to tell him
no more. But the man's tongue filled his mouth. Sucked on his own tongue and a
rush of unexpected heat washed over his skin, radiating through him like a
sudden bone deep shock of electricity. All the way to his pelvis. Pooling
there. Urging his body to take it, to take more, to get more, to beg for it.
Harry suddenly sucked hard on the warm tongue in his mouth. His body was
melting. His legs moving wider, his pelvis lifting, thrusting in time with the
man's surging motions. The huge invader went further, Harry dropped his head
back, lolling on his neck, rolling side to side.
No. This wasn't possible. This pleasure. Oh, God. So hard. So deep. Deeper,
please. Lucius moved up inside of him in one complete wave. Oh, Merlin. Harry
sobbed. Limp. No more strength in his body, not after being confronted with
this overwhelming sensation.
Lucius felt the body under his own go passive, throbbing around him only in one
place, the place where he pierced it so incredibly deep. His head raised
involuntarily, every hair on end, at the complete submission. He had never felt
it so perfectly done. He roared out of his human throat. Thrust in hard, pulled
back. Hard and long, hitting the place inside the youth's body that made him
whimper and thrash his head. But the boy's arms were open, his legs wide, he
was absolutely open to the king's will. His body surrendered for the king's
passion. The king's use.
Lucius lost his control. He rushed forward, unable to stop, seeking the
ultimate sensation, to reach his satisfaction, to claim this one, to spill his
seed in him. He moved, fast, thrusting, nipping and licking the face and throat
of the moaning, whimpering youth. His kitten. His. Faster, pistoning in and
out, the kitten letting out continual cries, accepting each powerful invasion
into his body willingly.
Sweat poured off the alpha's face, dripped onto the boy underneath, slicked
their bodies. Harry was barely conscious, yet so attuned to the pleasure, to
the power of the man piercing him. It was his only reality, the place between
his legs, the sparkling sensation of the man riding him hard and deep, striking
his prostate with every stroke, until Harry wailed, his orgasm jetting out,
half-unwilling from his body. Too soon, too soon, far too soon. But too long,
he had been waiting for this for his entire life. He wanted it to last forever.
The rhythmic squeezing around his erection was all Lucius needed. The last
little stimulation to send him roaring to his pleasure. His seed filled the
tight body beneath his. Pulsing into the tight sheath. He rode it even as he
filled it full, covered it anew with his scent, his claim. Hips pumping, even
deeper into it, to the limit of his reach, into this perfect vessel. The vessel
that was his. His Marked. His Claimed.
He went limp. Made no objection when tongues began lapping at him, at them,
cleaning them of sweat and sex and seed. He slid off the boy, to the side.
Allowed his second and third to continue their task, their care of their king
and his Chosen.
Outside, Yaji and Mantheer held the sobbing young man, they held Draco tight,
as they listened to the king's pleasure.
***** Chapter 16 *****
Chapter 16
 
Andromeda carefully put her hands on her knees. They were shaking and had been
for almost sixty minutes. She balled them into fists, willing the tremors to
stop, feeling her nails dig into her palms. It stopped the shaking, the small
pains helping her think. She opened her fists and watched the blood well up in
the crescent shaped wounds. Better, now. Now she could work on finding a
solution, instead of sitting up here shaking like a leaf wondering if anyone
had discovered her part in the failed scheme.
She was sitting in her dressing room, high up on the fifth floor of the Manor
House. She looked out over the estate, without seeing any of it. It was not
working out like she had planned. So meticulously put together, still the plans
had failed miserably. It had been foolish to rely on anyone else to carry out
the most important part.
That idiot woman, Trelawny, should have taken care of Andromeda's one, big
problem by now. Not so. Something had happened. Gone wrong, in spite of her
exacting plans. Andromeda knew it for sure, because she had seen the problem,
big as life, with her own two eyes, not more than an hour ago. The fear had
gripped her, freezing her in her tracks, her heart pounding. It tool all of her
will not to turn and flee. She walked calmly out of the great hall, away from
lunch, and up here, to her private rooms. Then she had fallen apart.
She had seen Draco. Here, alive, in the halls downstairs, entirely unharmed.
Those guardian apes, Mantheer and Yaji, with him, petting him, coddling him
like HE was the heir, not her son. They were leopards, yes, but they were
nothing more than cursed apes. Muscle. Not a brain to share between them. They
could not have saved him. Not even if they'd only had to trip over him to do
it. She was sure of it. So, who had saved the king's son?
With Draco gone, the focus would have shifted to her son. The heir. And as the
Mother of the heir, she would have gained in status. She needed every bit of
that she could get to dethrone her false-brother. He had his supporters, far
too many of them, they resisted her attempts to bring them into her camp,
refusing to support her. Their loyalty frustrated her. When had he earned this
kind of blind devotion? She had never seen him do anything, no great works, to
bind them to him. How had it happened? She threw back her head and growled.
"Mother?" The beautiful blond boy entered her rooms, uncertainly. She looked at
him, trying to force her face to transform from a snarling mask into a
welcoming one. His horrified face showed that her efforts had failed. His blue
eyes grew wide and frightened. He backed away into the corridor. She scowled
and spoke.
"Sweetie, Mums is not angry with you, pet. Don't worry. Mums loves you." She
did managed to keep her voice feather soft. She was able to keep the love of
him in it, keep the frustration at her failure out of it.
The fear receded from the boys expression, he put two fingers in his mouth,
trying to soothe fragile nerves. He inched into the room. She looked at him,
trying to see if there was any sign of his father in him. Small, yes, but the
coloring was all hers. His eyes hers, his hair, hers. The sweet ivory skin
tone, hers. She had refused to tell the pride who the father was. Even dropping
hints that it was her brother. Those hints fell on deaf ears, never growing
into the rumors that she wanted. It was her right to keep the man's identity to
herself. She was the important parent here. It was her blood that gave the
child a claim to the leopard throne.
Andromeda held out her arm. He was warm and perfect nestled in her embrace. How
she loved this child. Her only child. The heir. "Come here, Christophe. Mums
was thinking, this is a nice time of year to go vacationing. If you could go
any where, where would you like to go? Next year you will be old enough to go
to school at Hogwarts, and then we won't be able to vacation except during
school breaks."
She smiled at him as he began to tell her all the places he wanted to visit.
And a new plan began to form in her mind. This one would not fail. This time
she would do it all herself. Not counting on any one else's aid.
 
"I can't find her, Lucius." The Seer was adamant. "She is gone and so is the
heir."
"You have looked everywhere?" Lucius leaned into the the hands that combed out
his long hair. Kaithas was patient, working out the snarls painlessly. Until
the strands hung in a sheet of heavy, silky threads across his lap. He ran his
fingers through it, slowly, over and over. The movement soothing to him and to
the blond were-leopard.
"Yes, alpha. Amrys and Graeme are searching the grounds still. But, there is no
reason for her to be out there." Kaithas added. Andromeda was not inclined to
go out into the woods and forest surrounding the estate. To do so would be out
of character. It was not wise to assume she would be found there.
"When was she last seen?" Lucius asked, watching the others bathing in the
large pool. Kaithas sat behind him on the lip of the pool. Three of the young-
lings were frolicking, splashing further out. The adult females were closer to
the edge, not so rambunctious.
Kaithas noted one of the females was pregnant, just beginning to show. He
wondered who was going to be a father. He had not heard of any one being named
yet. A naming ceremony would be good for the pride. Drawing them together,
united in celebration of the conception. The infant would get a before-birth
name, a name to offer it protection as it grew, a name to acknowledge it
belonged and was welcomed into the pride. One he or she would carry until they
were delivered. Then the birth name would supersede it.
"Yesterday, she took her meals in her rooms, Christopher was with her." The
Seer answered his king. "The house elves swear to it. Then, this morning, she
was gone. There was no one in her rooms when they brought breakfast to her, the
heir's rooms were empty also, his bed unslept in."
Lucius ground his teeth. She had done the unthinkable. She had taken the heir
from the protection and love of the pride. The heir belonged where they could
care for him. She, his Mother, was using him to further her ambitions.
"She has taken him. To punish the pride, or to weasel some thing, some
concession from me." He said, heaving a sigh. Kaithas stroked his hair again.
"She has finally taken the step that can not be forgiven."
"She wishes for you to turn her." Kaithas pointed out, feeling Lucius' great
muscles shift as he moved, restlessly. "She will not harm him, she will use him
to get that from you, my king."
Lucius shook his head. "No. Not enough for her. She will ask to be changed and
for me to abdicate the throne to her. Or she will demand I take her as my
consort. So she will rule beside me. As Mother to the heir, her word will come
before mine if she is my co-ruler."
"She is too focused on her goals to be adequate protection for him. We must
find where they have gone, before others find them. There are many of my
enemies who would stop at nothing to get the boy. And enemies of the pride.
Andromeda has refused to name the father. She has kept his father from a place
in the pride. A position that is his by right. If he wants that place he has
only to claim the heir as his, take him, and he can ask for anything that is in
our power to grant. We have no way of knowing if he wants that." Lucius heaved
a great sigh.
"We will find the heir." Kaithas promised. "Before it is too late."
"He is only a child, Kai." Lucius said, sadly.
"I know." They were both wondering how a mother could risk her child in such a
blatant bid for power. Power was not worth the child's life.
"When he has been found...." Lucius began. Kaithas put a hand over the other
man's, silencing him. He shook his head.
"You do not need to say it. It will be done." The Seer promised. Lucius nodded
his silent thanks.
***** Chapter 17 *****
Chapter 17
 
Harry asked himself for the tenth time what the hell he was doing coming down
here. He'd left Blaise asleep, with the other young-lings curled around him.
All warm and content, as Harry was not. He was restless, tossing and turning.
Then he sat up, impulsively leaving his sleeping area and companions, padding
noiselessly down the long halls. Heading here. He was now in the hall outside
the king's personal rooms. Unbidden.
He looked over at one of the tall guardians who stood watch. The dark skinned,
human-form, were-leopard returned his look impassively, eyes glittering black
in the gloom. Made no move to stop him, or to question him. Why was he here?
Should he be here? Why did the night-watcher not stop him? Did he have a right
to be here? As the Chosen? No one had said. But, the guard did not try to stop
him. Surely that meant something.
Harry ducked into the dark room quickly, before he lost what little nerve he
had. He stood still just inside the arched doorway, waiting for his eyes to
adjust. It happened faster than it had ever done when he was all human. He
could see well in only seconds, despite the cloaking blackness, without a
single candle lit.
He picked his way silently towards the big bed, piled high with sleeping furs,
his bare feet confident, moving over the cool stones of the floor. Three bodies
were tumbled in among the furs. Long, muscular bodies. The ruling three of the
pride. The king and his second and third. Sleeping together.
Harry crept silently closer. He wished they were not there, the other two men.
He wished the king was alone. That they, he and Lucius, could be alone. They
never were. Others were always around. Even as he gave his virginity to the
king. Graeme and Amrys had been there , close enough that they touched, the
four of them, while Lucius took him.
He was not completely sure why he decided to come here. He had woken, wanting
to be somewhere besides in the snoozing pile of young-lings. Harry wished to be
with the man who was his lover. Wanted to be touched by him, held by him.
Wanted to rest with his ear over the man's strong heart beat. His virginity had
been taken by the king and not another word said. No endearments. No words of
commitment, or of love. Harry ached to know why.
What did it mean to be the Marked one, the Claimed, or the Chosen? He was not
treated differently. His company was not sought out. They did not converse
together, or even sit together unless Lucius was idle and inclined to pet him.
If their paths crossed, the man would stroke him absently and move on. The
touches were good, but there were no words, no conversations with him. So what
if others in the pride said the word "Chosen" with reverence. Harry didn't feel
special. He felt lonely.
Being taken, having sex, for that small time he had felt special. He had felt
pleasure, great pleasure. At that moment he knew where he belonged. But not
now. Now he felt alone, unwanted. The companions of his age, those still asleep
in the furs he left minutes ago, they failed to ease his loneliness. They were
not enough. It came to him what he wanted, laying awake in the dark.
It was why he was here, now. He wanted Lucius. He wanted to be near the man
again, to be next to be held by the man who had been deep in his body. He
wanted to be welcome here, in the king's, his lover's, private space. Like
Amrys and Graeme were.
Were the men the king's lovers? If so, was he also? Or was he something else?
Something he didn't understand?
Taking sudden courage from his desperation, the young man crawled up onto the
bed and into the tumbled furs. He felt warm skin brushing his bare knees. He
scented, the limb belonged to Graeme. He stole up further and found a hand. A
pale skinned hand, that smelled right, he nuzzled his face into the curled
palm. Flattening the fingers until they cupped his face. Rolled his back up
against the man's thigh. Settled down.
He was not aware of it when he began to cry. His tears fell onto the hand and
wrist of the man. Who startled awake, sniffing at the salty tang in the air.
Sadness, pain, longing. It was in the air. Lucius was immobile for long moments
trying to figure out what had occurred.
There was a fourth body in his bed. Unexpected. Small and slender, young. His
kitten was here. In his rooms. Where kittens were not brought. Not ever. He sat
up, reached a hand down, just as Amrys was reaching out to lift the offending
one off the bed, to deposit him onto the floor. Lucius stopped his second.
Looking down into the huge green eyes swimming with despair and spilling tears.
"Leave him. Rest." The king whispered. Graeme and Amrys exchanged a look.
Laying hesitantly back down, as their king bid. Lucius lifted the shaking youth
up and into his arms. The boy collapsed on top of Lucius, sobbing quietly now,
anguished, as if his heart was breaking. The alpha's large hands tried to
console him. Petting him until he fell asleep from exhaustion.
"Shall I return him to the rest of the kittens?" Amrys whispered when the
hiccuping breaths had evened out.
"No. He may remain here." Lucius responded, sleepily. "He will rest better now
than if you wake him and move him."
"My king...." Graeme said, his disquiet apparent in his voice. But Lucius
shushed him.
"If I may not chose where to have my Chosen rest, then am I really king?"
His leopards conceded the point. Curling up on either side of their friend and
king, while the boy slept on, sprawled on the broad chest, ear over the beating
heart of the man. Content.
 
@@@The Manor's library. The next day.@@@
Lucius pulled the startled young man up off the chair and to his feet. Bending,
he swept him up into his arms, carrying him out of the library and away from
the circle of friends who he'd been studying with. Someone giggled. More than
one someone, as Harry was carried off, dangling face down over a wide shoulder.
Harry yelped, but quickly noted who it was and managed to relax, struggling
didn't seem like a good idea.
It was a trip of only minutes, even with the boy's wiggles, to Lucius' sleeping
room. Harry was sprawled out on his back on the furs a second after they
crossed the threshold. He started to sit up, but Lucius, shedding his loose
pants, now gloriously naked, crawled onto the bed and pinned him flat,
divesting him of his clothing, too. Harry had only a second to see and marvel
at the wonderful body, the sheer beauty, before he was pressed into the furs
and the sensation made him close his eyes.
Lucius began with Harry's fingers. He nuzzled them, kissed them. Gently, he
moved his tongue over them, tasting a faint inky flavor, but underneath it, the
taste that was all kitten, all his Chosen. He sucked the youth's thumb into his
mouth, worried at it. Sliding it in and out of his tightened lips, grazing it
all along its length with his blunt human teeth. Harry's eyes rolled back into
his head. Skin tightening all over his body.
"Gooood." He groaned. Thirty seconds, not even one minute, after being tossed
onto the bed, and he was already out of control. A slut. That is what he was.
The leopard king's slut. A wonderfully, incredibly lucky, very happy slut.
Wrapping his legs around the man's waist he found he didn't really care what he
was at all.
Lucius licked at the spread palm, leaving the wet thumb behind, biting his way,
softly, no lingering marks, to the vulnerable wrist, raking teeth over the hot
pulse, hesitating, then moving slowly, wetly, up the outstretched arm, up the
forearm, and to the boy's elbow crease. He sucked the tender flesh, into his
mouth, drawing a flush of blood to the surface. Harry squirmed, crossing his
legs and squeezing them together hard. Trapping his achingly hard erection
against Lucius' belly, squeezing it, trying not to come, not to lose it so
soon.
The man's nose pushed into Harry's neck, rubbing over his throat, inhaling and
exhaling the stronger scent that lingered there. He kissed the damp flesh,
suckled at it, licked up to behind the young man's ear. Oh, that was good, the
soft curly hair, the scent of light-sweating kitten, the tender lobe of his ear
to nibble on. He nibbled and he bit. Harry reacted with a cry of almost fear,
coupled with a moan of pure wanton arousal. Lucius growled louder, flicking the
tender lobe with his tongue.
He used his hands to move the youth. To tilt him, his hips upward, fitting them
together and moving into him, pressing their bodies close. Then he licked over
the bony clavicles, over the stretched and offered throat. Biting carefully at
his shoulders, nice strong, young shoulders, rounded with muscle, not large
like his own, but good and full, just right for the slim frame.
The round mounds of buttocks fit perfectly into his hands, cupped into his
palms, his erection sliding along the flat belly, warm thighs, gripping him
tight.
"Lucius!" The word was a gasp. The kitten was moaning, Lucius smiled at that,
the thrill of the sound tearing though him, like icy fire.
"Yesss," the leopard king hissed. His hold growing fierce, painfully tight.
Harry threw back his head and cried out. Lucius snarled against the Chosen's
neck. "Yes, give yourself to me, kitten. Please me."
"Lucius please." Harry cried, low. He writhed. "I can't..."
"You can, kitten. What ever it is, you can." The man told him. And lowered his
mouth over the opened, panting one, tasting it with his mouth and lips and
tongue.
"No. Not with you doing....that."
Lucius was thrusting between Harry's thighs, over and over, tortuously slow.
The friction was exquisite. He smiled against the curve of Harry's neck.
He pulled back, raised the smaller man, and laved his tongue over one of the
hard pebbled nipples. Harry screamed, gooseflesh breaking out over his chest in
a wave. Oh, better, and better. Lucius thought, letting Harry fall flat onto
his back. Then he began nursing each of those tender nips of flesh.
Harry tried to push him away. His nipples burned and grew more peaked, so tight
and hard he thought they would break off. So sensitive. And Lucius seemed to
know, because his tongue slowed its movement. Lapped gently. Sucked with
careful lips. Harry hyperventilated. His cries continuous now. He was wet, so
wet down there.
Lucius moved still lower. He didn't do this often, but the sweet flesh of his
chosen tempted him. His mouth found the youth's erection, sucking it into the
cavern of wet heat. Harry lost the ability to think. Heat surrounded him,
dragged over his sensitive flesh. His penis surged with every stroke of the
eager tongue that played over him.
Sweet, clean, luscious. Lucius suckled.
Harry arched up into his mouth now, thrusting, ragged, nearly out of control.
Hissing with the unfamiliar sensation of being taken this way. His coordination
was failing. His hand falling aside, his knees and legs working aimlessly as he
heaved up, writhing.
As Lucius teased and tormented him with the slippery, mobile pleasure, sliding
his lips up and down his blood swollen length. Pulling off, Lucius licked at
the backs of Harry's spread thighs. Running his tongue over the back of Harry's
testicles. Drawing first one, then the other into his mouth.
Before returning his attention to the straining, red erection laying tightly up
against Harry's belly. He swallowed it whole, to the root, sucking hard, moving
his head up and down. His tongue swirling and slurping at the rigid flesh.
Harry moaned in pure disbelief. He keened. Jerking half upright and shot his
load into the demanding mouth around him. Lucius nursed his tender cock gently
for several moments longer. Until the last of the cream was deposited on his
tongue. Then he pulled back from the limp young man.
"Have I pleased you, kitten?" The were-leopard king murmured against the
other's dampened belly.
Lucius leaned back, and Harry fought to focus on him. Saw him at the end of the
bed, licking his lips with lazy satisfaction. Harry moaned again. He had no
idea how to speak. It would take him some time to remember how to use actual
words.
***** Chapter 18 *****
Chapter 18
 
"Potter!"
Harry turned towards the hissed word. He was not prepared to see that it was
Draco Malfoy who was calling to him. He stopped in his travel towards the great
hall, coming to a wary halt. Looking bemusedly at Draco. What was he up to?
The blond boy was half concealed in a doorway that Harry had not noticed
before. He stared at it curiously, until Draco shook him out of his
contemplation with another hiss.
"Potter, for goodness sake! Get over here before someone else sees!" Draco was
beckoning him nearer with urgent movements.
Harry had actually started to obey, taken a step in his classmate's direction,
when he remembered just who was calling him over and stopped in his tracks. He
gave Draco a suspicious glare.
"What are you up to, Malfoy?" Harry got right to the point. Hell with being
polite.
"Bet you don't call my *dad*, Malfoy, eh, Potter?" Draco growled, snarkily.
Then pursed his lips as if to prevent any more words escaping.
Harry continued to glare, a hot flush rising to his cheeks. Draco threw up his
hands and hissed under his breath at the other youth. Harry barely heard him,
Draco seemed....embarrassed?
"Oh, Merlin's beard, Harry! I'm sorry for that. I don't want to trade insults.
I just want to talk. Come on! Wizard's word, I am not plotting something
against you! Father would kill me if I did. Besides, I owe you
for...that...what you did. Uhm, saving me a thrashing and all that." Now it was
Draco who was pink, and having trouble meeting the other's eyes.
Harry nodded. It sounded sincere. Worth taking a chance. Draco was a pain, but
he wasn't all that dangerous. Not that Harry could see. Especially, since he
didn't have his Slytherin friends around to encourage him and egg him on. Harry
slipped into the room as Draco closed the door softly and turned a huge,
antique key in the old fashioned lock. He pocketed the heavy bit of metal.
Harry watched the key turn in the lock with growing alarm. Bracing himself, he
prepared for whatever nefarious assault Draco had planned. But, Draco merely
turned and walked past him, not even seeming to pick up how anxious Harry was,
appearing quite nervous himself. He wandered over to a group of chairs set near
the far wall. Plopping into one of them and picking at the upholstered arm.
Harry followed. There wasn't anything else to do. Besides, he felt silly
huddled near the locked door, like a defenseless first year. He could take care
of himself. He strode over and sat down, planting his feet firmly, not crossing
his ankles, just in case he had to move fast. Draco waited until Harry was
seated comfortably in one of the chairs near him before he began.
"This is kind of hard for me. So, if you can, just bear with me. Let me get it
out. Never thought I'd have to say this to you." Draco cleared his throat.
Opened his mouth, then closed it. He seemed to be thinking diligently, trying
to find a way to say what was on his mind, without success. Harry sighed.
Watched Draco starting and stopping several times. Finally, it was too much.
"Animal, vegetable or mineral?" He asked at last. Draco looked at him like he
was coming out of a fog, and wasn't sure what he'd heard. His expression
was...odd.
"I was trying to figure out what you are thinking." Harry explained. "It is a
Muggle game. You ask 'animal, vegetable or mineral'. And go from there. Asking
more questions, until you figure out just what the person is thinking."
Now Draco was staring at him as if he was utterly mad. Harry shrugged, letting
out a gusty breath.
"Just trying to help. So, what is on your mind?" The Gryffindor asked. Draco
drew in a deep breath, making a decision, and plunged on.
"When you went into that room,...when he, my father, uh...listened...." Draco
blushed again.
"We didn't talk," Harry muttered, shifting in his chair. "That was one thing we
didn't do."
"Potter!" Draco sounded desperate. Harry held up his hands, signaling he was
not going to interrupt again. Draco clasped his hands together, propped his
elbows on his knees and leaned forward. He didn't look at the other young man.
He kept his gaze fixed on his worrying hands. He began to talk in fits and
starts.
"Uh, well, when *it* worked,...and you...came out in one piece, Potter..... I,
uh, realized I have to get along with you. We have to get along with each
other, you see, because he is keeping you. You really are his Chosen." Draco
managed, at last.
"What does that mean? I mean, everyone says I am his Chosen. So. Tell me. What
does it mean? No one ever says." Harry had to interrupt then.
"God. You can divert him, make him aware of you, he can't not respond to you.
It means you have everything. All of it. Everything I wanted and can't have."
Draco shook his head.
"You wanted...." Harry couldn't stop the shocked tone. He regretted it
instantly. Draco half moaned his distress.
"No. Not that! Damn. Though, I can see how you might think it. My aunt, you got
to meet her up close, wants that. She wants to be taken as a Consort. To rule
with dad. She doesn't care if he is her brother. So, I guess our family doesn't
look so good to you. I see how you might think it of me, too." Draco sounded
sad, depressed.
"I didn't think you wanted to have sex with your father, Draco. It just caught
me off guard when it sounded as if that was what you were going to say. Sorry.
Go ahead." Harry reassured the other youth.
"I grew up thinking I was going to be a lycanthrope. Be like my father, be his
heir. Everything I was taught was leading up to the day I was going to be
changed, and then I would be able to stand by him. Rule the pride someday. Pick
my second and my third and rule with them when it was my time. But, it didn't
happen that way. Father tried to change me. It didn't work. *She* confessed her
family was resistant to lycanthropy. Dad hoped I had enough of his genes that I
might be changed. I don't, he can't change me. No one can." Draco's voice got
lower and slower, finally coming to a pause for several minutes. Harry let the
silence grow. No wonder Draco was such a prat.
"I can't change, so I can't be the pride heir. Mom put dad in a really bad
spot. There are a lot of different positions of power in the pride. He is the
king. The ruler. He has that position. Normally he'd have another. He'd be the
Sire. The Father of the heir, absolute top of the heap. But, he isn't. We don't
know who is. Only my aunt, Andromeda does. She gave birth to the heir. She is
the Mother of the heir. Usually the Mother is wed to the king and Sire. If dad
had abandoned my mother then he could have fathered the heir, taken another
wife. But he did not. He kept *me* as his son, instead of denying me and my
mother. Instead of setting us aside. Now he can't have more children."
"He can't? Why not?" Harry asked, puzzled. As far as he could tell, Lucius had
no *functional* reason he couldn't have more children. He fought to keep his
face neutral.
"He won't set my mother aside. Until he does that, he is not permitted to
father more children. She is his wife and his queen. But, she is not the Mother
of the Heir, and thus she can not be the queen." Draco said simply,
contradicting himself, if Harry was hearing him right. As if it was the way it
was, and there was nothing to do for it.
"That doesn't exactly make sense." Harry pointed out. Draco shook his head, a
small smile on his lips.
"It does to the pride. That is the way it has always been. It isn't like with
human kings, who have sex with any woman who will hold still. Have a dozen
illegitimate sons and daughters. The females of the pride decide who they will
take to their beds, and who will be a father. After they have enough children,
then they may ask to be changed. Didn't it strike you as the least bit unusual
at the number of males sleeping together, without one female in the bunch?"
Draco asked curiously. Potter usually noticed everything, often when it was
most inconvenient.
Harry mumbled something.
"What was that?" Draco leaned in closer, trying to hear.
"I didn't really notice it much." Harry mumbled, just loud enough for Draco to
hear. "I was more worried about all the guys who seemed to like to snuggle up
to me. Didn't wonder so much where the girls were. Just asked once or twice I
think."
Draco snorted. " A real piece of work you are, Potter. My dad has public sex
with you, in front of most of the pride, and you don't think of it as a little
strange?"
"Hey! I thought of it as very strange. This whole set up is weird, Malfoy.
People keep telling me I am Marked, and Claimed and the Chosen. But, don't tell
me what it means. They tell me I have to do this and that, and that I can't do
one thing, but I have to do another. I had Amrys catch up to me the other day,
just to tell me "kittens do not sleep in the king's bed"."
"Why...You? You. Slept. In. His Bed?" Draco shouted.
"Merlin, no need to yell! Yes. I slept in his bed. These last three nights."
Harry said, surprised by the shout.
"Harry. Kittens don't do that."
"Why the hell not?" Harry snarled out. "It's stupid just to say they don't, not
without a reason, damn it! Why not?"
"Harry! There are very careful lines drawn. The king sleeps with his second and
third. No one else. He has sex with others, sure. He's never even slept with my
mother in that bed. Never. I can't believe Amrys and Graeme let you." Draco was
growing agitated.
"He told them to." Harry said, grumpily, feeling defiant. "Told them he was the
king."
Draco was up on his feet. Heading at a breakneck pace for the door. He was out
of the hidden room and gone before Harry had done more than gain his feet.
God! And still he had no idea what being the Chosen meant. Maybe he could ask
one of the Weasleys. Try to get a straight answer out of one of them. Harry
headed out.
Oh, and he'd be damned if he was going to stop going to Lucius' bed at night.
He liked being there. It wasn't as if he was trying to kick one of the other
men out, or anything like that.
***** Chapter 19 *****
Chapter 19
 
Harry sat alone in the library. One leg was bent up, his chin resting on his
knee, arms wrapped around his ankle. He felt just a little shell-shocked. His
heart was still pounding and he could smell his own arousal. He swung his free
leg in short jerky arcs, signaling his inner agitation.
He was, in fact, completely unnerved. And, if truth be told, really, really
mad. No one else had answered his questions. So, being Harry Potter, he didn't
give up, he just moved on to the next level. He asked the pride's third to
explain it all to him. Ron had said Graeme was easy to talk to. He'd had a
dreamy smile on his face when he said it. Harry had rolled his eyes, but took
Ron at his word. Now he knew better and would take Ron's future advice with
just a grain of salt.
Graeme. Who had bared his teeth at him, when he saw him coming. Harry came to
an abrupt halt, while he tried to measure the likelihood Graeme would smack him
around, versus just try to intimidate him. He came to the conclusion he could
safely chance it.
He walked right up to the bristling cat, looked him in the eye, and asked his
question. Graeme frowned at him, seeming to expect something besides a
question. Then he answered it. Bluntly. Sure, he could tell Harry why his
sleeping in the king's bed was causing such an uproar.
Graeme caught Harry totally by surprise by the explanation.
Kittens were for sex, they were learning their place, learning how to live in
the pride. They were young and durable and always ready for play. Harry was
insulted and frowned at the long haired were-leopard. Graeme on the other hand,
was pleased Harry was upset and continued his explanation, a tight grin on his
face. He reached out towards the young man, sniffing, a pink tongue tip showing
as he licked his lips.
Harry shivered as Graeme ran fingers over the bare skin of his arm, up the back
of it. Exploring. Harry's skin went tight, his gut clenched in unwilling heat.
The hand was warm, strong, masculine, gentle, yet demanding. Harry felt the
familiar melting in his middle and lower down, the desire, the instinct to lay
back and accept whatever the dominant male wanted to give him. He grit his
teeth and stayed still. He refused to move forward, to otherwise respond.
The deep blue eyes sank into his, Harry was suddenly very aware of the man's
musky, delicious scent. He let out a gasp, wanting both to step back and to
lean forward, raise his face and take a kiss. He fought the urge. It wasn't
right! He wanted Lucius. Not this other big, muscular man, no matter how good
he smelled. No matter what Harry's body was asking for, no matter how urgently
his insides ached.
Graeme grinned at him, showing hungry teeth. "Kitten. You are for sex. Your
whole being cries for it. Don't you feel it?"
Harry managed to step back at that. Graeme laughed. And he continued his
explanation, letting his hand fall away from Harry's goose pimpled flesh.
Only the ruling three slept in the king's rooms. It granted a position of
power, sleeping in the king's bed. It meant that they were one of the ruling
triad.
The rest of the pride was waiting now, to see which of the other two men were
going to be ousted, since Harry had spent the nights there. They expected Harry
to be named second or third. And either Graeme or Amrys would be ousted, driven
out, perhaps only out of the king's bed, perhaps out of the pride. The pride
was already shuffling, preparing to take on new alliances when the Chosen
became second or third.
"I don't want to rule anything." Was Harry's irritated response. "I just want
to sleep in the same bed with my lover."
"He is your alpha, silly kitten. He is not your lover." The older lycanthrope
had growled. Appearing honestly offended by the young man's assertion. He
towered menacingly over Harry.
"He is." Harry insisted. Glowering back at the big man. Eyes shooting sparks.
"He is my lover. Period."
"No. He is not." Graeme leaned in closer. He glared at Harry. Dark blue eyes
meeting green. His nostrils flared. "King's do not take kitten's as lovers.
They *fuck* kitten's."
Harry had a horrible thought. "Are you, and Amrys....are you his lovers?" He
asked uncertainly, praying he was wrong. Graeme's chin lifted, his eyes now
blazing with fury. His lush, wavy hair fairly crackled with his indignation.
His wide mouth was compressed into a flat line of disapproval.
"That is not for a kitten to worry about. It is sufficient that you know you
are not Lucius' lover. You should get back to your place. Go sleep with the
other young-lings. The king will call you when he wants your legs in the air."
Graeme told him.
"I don't know why Ron thinks you are nice." Harry said, slowly. "You are too
angry, vicious. Why should it matter to you if I am his lover? You won't claim
him as your own, not even when directly asked. I don't want your spot, you can
keep whatever power trip you are on. I just want a place of my own."
"Idiot, young-ling. Ron likes me because I know how to give him what his body
craves. I know how to spread him wide and fuck him deep until he screams.
Unlike you, he knows what he is, and he knows what is right. You can't have
what you are asking for. Get out of our bed. You are disrupting the entire
pride." Graeme snarled, his voice deepening as he began the preliminary to
shifting. His burgeoning fangs clicked. He blinked, not slow and languid, but a
refocusing of his predatory attention. Harry felt as if he was being stripped
naked, licked, tasted. Fuck! He took another step back from the other man.
Then, part human, part beast, Graeme hissed at Harry and left him standing in
the middle of the empty library. And Harry had collapsed with relief into the
chair, his knees as sturdy as a bowl of jiggling jello. Fred and George were
right, Graeme was definitely one to watch out for. Hot, sexy and terrifying.
And a real bastard.
Harry stood. He was going to find Draco, and hash it out at last. He was going
to find out what all this shit meant. Why it was impossible to do so damn many
things, just "because". And why the hell things couldn't change. It wasn't all
written in stone, was it?
He was tired of the confusion. If it didn't come with a ready made rule book,
if someone couldn't hand him one today, he was going to write his own. He was
tired of guessing, and being told NO. Bad kitty. Fine. If they thought they'd
seen a bad kitty, they were in for a real surprise. Scowling, Harry shot off in
search of Draco.
***** Chapter 20 *****
Chapter 20
 
Draco was leaning against a wall when Harry spotted him at last. Blending in
instead of standing out. Very out of character. Pretty hard to see, almost like
he was hiding. Glancing right and left, Harry hurried over. There was no one
else around.
"Hey, Malfoy...." Harry began, only just audible, some instinct telling him to
keep his voice low. Draco was just too casual standing there, innocence in
every line of his body, attention definitely elsewhere. Harry recognized the
posture, the other boy was up to something. And, as Sherlock Holmes would
say...The game was afoot.
The way Draco startled, his mouth thinning, only assured Harry he was right. As
Harry got closer, the blond grabbed him and dragged him up against his side. A
hand went to Harry's lips shushing him non-verbally right before Draco spoke.
"Shut up, Potter," he whispered, harsh and urgent, his breath whispering over
Harry's ear. He tilted his head. Harry took the hint and listened to the quiet
conversation going on around the corner.
Amrys, Graeme, Kaithas, and Lucius. He heard all four voices.
"I don't understand why he should ask for a meeting. He is *insisting* on it.
Do we dare go?" Graeme was saying, barely human speech, more a growling snarl
than anything else. Harry knew the man was pissed. Unbidden a smile came to his
lips. He hoped he was part of the man's problem.
"We must go." Amrys said next. His tone even. "He has give us safe conduct into
his territory. He will keep his word, even if he is a wolf."
"Perhaps it has to do with your sister and the heir? Perhaps he knows where
they are? He may have located them, heard that we have been searching...."
Kaithas' calm voice was like a balm on troubled waters. Even as the subject of
his words were troubling.
Graeme said something so garbled that Harry gave up on trying to understand it.
He knew that if he stuck his head around the corner, there would be one were-
leopard with long coppery fur and blue eyes.
"That would explain much. But, why not just send word?" Lucius responded. Harry
felt his whole body lock up in reaction to the man's voice. The reaction he'd
had to Graeme earlier was nothing compared to this. He yearned to be in there,
pressed up against the man. Legs wrapping around the slim waist, feeling all
that power between them. He felt the crimson wave rising up into his face, even
as his groin grew tight, his nipples contracted, aching buds. Merlin, he was
like a cat in heat! It was embarrassing out here. Now, when he was in bed,
snuggled up....that was a whole different story.
"Do you think the bitch is allied with him? Is it possible?" Amrys asked, a
fine thread of anger in his tone. A warning of impending violence.
"I put nothing beyond my sister." Lucius said, voice tight and ringing with
barely controlled fury, echoing his second.
"I pray her loyalty has not eroded to that point." The Seer put in, grimly.
"But, as Lucius says, I put nothing out of her realm, not even that level of
treachery. There is a madness in her of late."
"Tambyn did not say it had to do with the heir, just pride business." Amrys
commented.
"He is cautious as always with the information he lets out. Still we must go."
Lucius returned.
"Who goes?" Harry understood Graeme's speech this time, only just. He had to
puzzle at the sounds for a second or two. There was a pause in the
conversation.
"Why is your control so tenuous, my third?" Lucius asked, there was sound, and
Graeme was purring, a deep and alluring rumble that tickled over his skin.
Harry felt Draco's body tremble next to him. He knew the sound came from
Graeme. He felt it in his bones. And anguished, he knew why. Lucius was
touching his leopard, probably petting him. Stroking a hand thru the soft fur.
"Potter, where are you going?" Draco hissed so low Harry wouldn't have heard it
if it wasn't said right up against his ear. The other youth had Harry's arm in
a hard grasp. "You can't go in there!"
"I..."Harry began. Then he forced himself to relax, to stop struggling to get
into the room beyond and confront Graeme. Draco looked at him strangely.
"We leave now." It was the king's statement that distracted the two young men.
Draco dragged Harry further into the shadows as the four men came out of the
room. Rather, three men and one leopard. Draco pushed Harry behind him, drawing
him in tight in a clinched embrace, the Draco large enough that Harry was
completely hidden. None of the others looked their way, not even the were-cat.
Once the group was out of sight around a bend in the hall, Draco tugged on
Harry's sleeve. Harry was for once in complete agreement with the Slytherin.
They sped off in pursuit. Draco pulled out his wand, brandishing it. A few
urgent words and the two youths disappeared from sight, the sound of their
footfalls fading away.
***** Chapter 21 *****
Chapter 21
 
"Lucius." The man speaking was massive. Tall and wide enough that he dwarfed
all of the people around him. Lucius looked up. Met those dark eyes, chips of
obsidian in a harsh featured face. Not handsome. But arresting. Coupled with
his uncommon size, Tambyn got lots of looks thrown his way.
"Tambyn." Lucius greeted the man, moving forward between the line of silent
werewolves on either side of the hall. They sat, mostly in animal form,
watching from sharp, curious eyes. One of them licked its snout with a long,
canine tongue. The scent of them assaulted the nostrils of the were-cats.
Forbidding, wrong, not feline. Lucius never flinched as he passed them all.
He felt Graeme twitching, reached out and looped his arm through his third's,
pulling him close, calming him with his body. Graeme nervously rubbed and
cuddled as they walked, his own long arm going around Lucius' waist. He buried
his sensitive nose in his king's hair, trying to block out the overwhelming
wolf scent. Lucius let it happen. Graeme was too on edge. It wouldn't be good
if he shifted here.
Tambyn remained standing in front of the door to his inner rooms. He gestured
for the entire pride contingent to enter.
"Welcome to the home of the Pack." Tambyn said. He indicated the chairs arrayed
around the fireplace at one end of the room. Waited as they moved into them.
"Have a seat." He said into the quiet air. The overwhelming scent of the other
wolves stayed mostly outside the room. In here, the cats felt they could
breathe again. Lucius took his seat, keeping a hand on Graeme, keeping his
third at his feet when he sat. Graeme made no sign of protest. He curled up on
the wooden floor at his king's feet, legs tucked under. Lucius stroked him with
one hand.
"Thank you." Lucius took the cup handed to him by a slim, brown skinned woman.
He set it aside. Kept petting the long coppery locks that were as soft as silk
under his hand. Graeme lifted his chin, and Lucius' long agile fingers
scratched him under his chin, along his throat.
"That will be all, thank you Electra." Tambyn said to the woman, she moved away
from the gathering going to sit a few feet away, her attention on the group.
"We have never been friends, Tambyn. Nor true enemies." Lucius began. Meeting
the big man's gaze, liking the strength and purpose he sensed in the man. A man
who got things done, Lucius thought. "I was surprised to be asked here. And am
impatient to know the reason why."
"Understandable." The huge man paused. His eyes flicked down to Graeme who was
purring, eyes half closed in bliss. A corner of his mouth quirked, showing
unexpected humor. Lucius let his own mouth almost smile.
Then Tambyn became serious again."It is not easy, what I am about to say.
Please be aware none of it was brought about by my planning. I was too much of
a child then to have even thought of any thing so convoluted."
Lucius inclined his head. Graeme licked his wrist, as Tambyn started his
explanation.
"Years ago I met a beautiful woman. It was just before I was made king here. I
was 19 at the time. She told me her name was Jezebel. She was blonde, and
charismatic as well as lovely. We began a romance. Then, a few months into it,
she disappeared. I was distraught, heartbroken, then angry. Before, I could
find where she had gone, my father died and I was suddenly king." Tambyn
frowned, his hurt and memory of it, obviously still quite strong.
Lucius watched the other man, he was telling the truth. His feelings were not
faked. His heart rate was a little high, but that jibed well with what he'd
revealed. He'd been abandoned by his lover. He'd been very young, not so
resilient then. Tambyn resumed his tale.
"When things were more settled with the pack, I began to search. Everywhere, I
asked and sent my wolves to look. I never found her. I gave up, other things
needed to be taken care of. I married. Very well." His eyes drifted to the
woman sitting apart from them, she returned his gaze with determined pride.
"Then, this week, I saw the woman from my past. With her was a child. A child
who smelled like pack, who smelled like me, for all he looked like her. He is
my child. One I did not know I had. My eldest child." Tambyn waited for the
significance to sink in. All the pride's contingent stirred, except Graeme who
had laid his chin over his king's knee, and was purring, loudly. Lucius fondled
his ear. He knew he wasn't' going to like the rest of this story.
Kaithas was the one who spoke. "You found her and found out who she is." Tambyn
nodded, eyes flinty.
"I did. I had them taken. The woman demanded I free her. She told me she is
your sister, Lucius, the Mother of your heir. She gives her name as Andromeda.
The boy, he is called Christopher, Christophe by her. She claims the boy is
yours?" Tambyn said the name as if he had discovered the most precious of
items.
"He must be your heir. I have not lain with my sister, not to father a child or
for any other reason." Lucius murmured. "My sister's child is your heir." He
shook his head, expression tight, stark.
Andromeda had betrayed the pride. Not only Lucius. She had tried to pass a
werewolf's child off as the heir to the pride. Lucius distantly heard Kaithas
and Amrys groan. He tried to find any belief in his heart that Tambyn was
wrong, or had misinterpreted what had happened. It was too clear.
Lucius' younger sister had gone out from the pride. She had had an affair with
a rival lycanthrope. She had become pregnant, with a werewolf's child. She had
not told the wolf. She had abandoned him. Then used the child to elevate her
position in the pride. She had allowed a werewolf's child to be declared the
pride's heir. Lucius let out a sound of pure pain.
Tambyn lifted his head and looked at the doorway of the room. His brows were
drawn down his gaze forbidding. "What is it Paulsen?" He growled out.
The werewolf in human form stepped further into the room, his face grim. Behind
him were two hulking guards. From their fists dangled a blond figure and a dark
haired one. Both struggling and complaining.
Lucius stood, face thunderous. Mantheer and Yaji also gained their feet and
were heading forward instantly, intent on freeing the captives.
Amrys moved forward grabbing Graeme who had pricked up his ears, focusing on
the tableau. Lucius held up a hand halting his large guardians' forward
progress. Mantheer and Yaji stopped immediately, though he could feel their
need move straining against the order.
"Draco, Harry. Why are you here?" Lucius snarled at them. Both youths froze,
eyes huge as they sought his.
"Oh shit," Harry said. Draco started to hyperventilate.
***** Chapter 22 *****
Chapter 22
 
Draco was the first to react constructively, once he got his breathing
reasonably under control. He was, after all, used to getting into and out of
serious scrapes on a daily basis. He flung out one of his hands, finding
Harry's and gripping it hard. Then he spoke a word under his breath. Normally
he couldn't do magic without a wand, but with Potter as back up, that was no
problem.
A well of power filled him, almost drowningly full. Merlin! This was why people
were so awestruck about Potter! It was incredible, this vast reserve of
seething strength. The spell flowed out unrestricted, blazed into existence
thrice as strong as Draco had intended. The air snapped, crackled and smoked.
The werewolves holding them dropped them like they were live coals, dancing
back from the sparks, shaking their smarting digits, sucking the burns into
their mouths.
The wolf king growled, fur beginning to flow over his skin. Lucius turned away
from the boys, looked and saw the change as it was happening. He took two steps
forward and smacked his son and his Chosen to the floor, kneeling on top of
them, covering them with his body. He held his hands out, palms facing the
wolf.
"King Tambyn. Stop. These are my son and his friend. They pose no risk to you
or to your pack. They are just meddling young-lings." Tambyn was in midshift.
He glared at Lucius, and then at the youths flattened on the floor. Lastly, he
looked at his wolves and their hands, still being licked over. He showed the
entire room his dripping fangs.
Lucius crouched lower. He did not want to fight the huge wolf. It would be a
fight to the death. King and king. Tambyn had the physical strength, but Lucius
had decades more experience. He would probably win, but at a huge cost. He
wanted an alliance, not a dead enemy and a pack left with a brand new king bent
on revenge. Needing to prove himself, and his worth.
Behind him Lucius heard the scuffle, a scant millisecond later he scented the
shift. Graeme had changed. He heard the snarl, cut off abruptly.
"Amrys?" Lucius called. He kept his tone absolutely even. No note of anxiety.
Just assurance, confidence. Anything less might provoke Tambyn and his wolves.
"I have him." Amrys assured his king.
"Yaji. Help Amrys. Do not let Graeme go." Lucius ordered. Then he switched his
complete attention back to the furry man-wolf Tambyn.
"Do not let the bitch win. Do not let her see us brought to war." Lucius said.
The wolf cocked it's head consideringly, one heartbeat, two, three....It's
ebony eyes gleamed.
Then the shaggy head nodded. And the fur receded like a wave, until Tambyn
stood, all human again. The scent of wolf was choking in the air. Lucius tried
to breathe through his mouth. Graeme roared his distress. Lucius heard Amrys
murmuring to the were-cat. Heard Yaji swearing, scented blood.
"The bitch? Fitting. So, you wouldn't have her win? You will let me take the
boy?" Tambyn sounded much calmer, amused at the name. He sat again, wary but
willing to relax, give Lucius one more chance.
"I have no choice, he is yours. Of your seed, of your blood. The pack's heir.
Not the pride's." Lucius responded cautiously, rising to his feet, remaining
standing over the two sprawled youths at his feet. "If you will give me your
solemn word he will be treated well, he is yours without interference from me
or mine."
"Of course, I would not seek to harm my own Heir. And the woman? His Mother?
What of her?" The wolf king asked next. The other woman, Electra moved to his
side with careful, measured steps her suspicious gaze on the were-leopards.
"She is yours as well. She has no home with us any longer. She is of no concern
to us." The pride king responded at once. "But, I would not forget what she is
capable of."
"I will not forget she has betrayed you. As she betrayed me. That she has a
gift for it." The wolf king returned. He shook the tension out of his massive
shoulders, Electra stroking him with her slender hands, leaning her body along
his side.
Lucius nodded his acceptance. "Agreed. Now. I wish to take these...children
back home. And deal with them as they deserve."
Tambyn's answer was a toothy grin.
Graeme hissed, pulled out of the room reluctantly, fighting to get at every
wolf they passed in the corridor. Finally, Mantheer and Yaji wrestled him up
off the floor, carrying him out of the pack's lair. They paid special attention
to securing his raking claws and snapping fangs.
Draco and Harry walked in the middle of the group, behind the guardians, and in
front of Kaithas. Lucius and Amrys brought up the rear.
Harry noticed how Draco hung his head. As if he was thinking hard, not as if he
was frightened of what was next. Harry wondered just what the other young man
could find to think about right now. Aside from the punishment they were facing
for this idiotic stunt. Shit! He should have known better. He did know better.
And he'd still done it.
Draco stumbled for the third time and Harry grabbed his arm, steadied him.
"Dra..." He began. And received a swat across the back of his head from
Kaithas. The message abundantly clear. Be quiet.
Silently, he walked next to Draco until they were out of the building.
***** Chapter 23 *****
Chapter 23
 
"Draco!" Harry hissed at the taller boy. Draco was quiet, staring off into
space, floating on his back in the warm water of the spring. He startled when
Harry shook his shoulder.
"Harry?" His pupils were dilated, eyes unnaturally wide. He flailed out an arm,
Harry caught it right before it would have smacked him across the face.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Malfoy? Did you hit your head?" Harry asked
as he inched closer to the other youth while they drifted in the water. They
were in here to wash off the noxious wolf-scent. But Draco hadn't even started
to wash. Just hung in the water, staring off into space. A million miles away.
"Nothing is wrong. In fact, every thing is right. I've figured it out. Merlin!
How could I have been so blind?" Draco said, voice growing distant again,
dreamy. Harry pinched him under the surface of the water. Draco gasped,
slapping at Harry's fingers.
"Draco." Harry's voice held a warning note. "You aren't making any sense. Are
you drunk? High?" He asked even though he couldn't imagine when Draco might
have gotten his hands on anything intoxicating.
The blond boy snorted. "No, Potter, I am not high." His eyes were focused on
the present at last. Harry sighed with relief. All right then.
They'd been sent to the bathing rooms under guard as soon as they'd arrived
back at the Manor. Mantheer and Yaji stood towering before the only exit to the
rest of the building. Letting no one in. Nor letting the two miscreants out.
Both men had their arms crossed over their chests and thunderous expressions.
The king of the pride had other duties to attend to before he could address
their little indiscretion.
"What have you figured out?" Harry whispered.
"Huh? What are you talking about?" Draco said, a funny look on his face, as if
he was a fraction disoriented. He turned his face towards Harry.
"You said you'd figured it out. What?" Harry reminded him patiently. Handing
him the bar of soap and wash cloth. Draco ignored the offerings, his face going
wary.
"Turn around, Malfoy." Harry gently turned Draco away from him and ran the
cloth over his back. Draco jumped. Whirling around as fast as he could in the
water.
"Potter..." He said warningly, "You'd better not be thinking...."
"Oh, for pities sake, Draco! Then you wash yourself! One or the other and be
quick about it, 'cause we aren't going to be let out of here until we are
clean. By their standards." He canted his head in the direction of their
glowering guards.
"Oh." Draco said. The he leaned in. "Harry. I need your help." He whispered.
Alarm bells went off in the Gryffindor's brain. His head started shaking
automatically.
"After the trouble you just got me into?" He asked incredulously. "Are you
nuts?"
"No. This is serious. I am serious. Just listen. Swear to me you won't tell.
Tell me, honestly, if this isn't for the best." Draco hissed under his breath
in Harry's ear.
"Fine. My word I'll keep your secret unless it'll get us killed. That good
enough for you, Malfoy?" Harry groaned at his own stupidity for agreeing to it.
He should be avoiding Draco for the rest of his life, however long that was
going to be once Lucius got his hands on them. Not listening to his secrets.
"It'll do." Draco nodded, pursing his lips. He remained quiet thinking, for
several long minutes.
"So...." Harry prompted, at last. Whatever it was it seemed important to the
other young man.
"I'mgoingtohaveababy." Draco muttered. Avoiding Harry's eyes. Harry's brows
knit while he tried to untangle the words. Then his eyes went wide, and he
gasped.
"What!" Harry yelled once he'd deciphered the sentence. He grabbed Draco's
shoulders and shook him. Of all the hair brained....
Mantheer and Yaji were away from the wall and at the edge of the pool before
Draco could reply. Mantheer reached into the water and lifted Draco out like he
weighed less than a baby. Water ran off Draco's long, bare limbs as he
literally flew up out of the pool.
"I'm fine Mantheer, I swear. Potter and I are just talking. No harm done."
Draco was trying to soothe his body guard and get free of him at the same time,
with little success.
Yaji had Harry by the scruff. His arm was pressed very near Harry's mouth as he
dragged the boy out of the water, none too gently. Harry had had enough. He bit
Yaji. Yaji responded by throwing Harry thirty feet away, to the far edge of the
bathing pool. Harry hit with a huge splash, sinking under the surface, bubbles
churning up a silvery froth all around him as he sank. Then, he suddenly
reversed direction.
Yaji dragged him up out of the water. Harry stared at the huge man. Merlin, he
must have moved fast to get here so quickly. Harry snarled at him anyway, just
to show he wasn't really all that impressed.
"Yaji. Yaji. Yaji! Bring him over here. Yaji!" It was Draco calling repeatedly
to the man who held Harry in a tight grip and glared down at him. Harry wasn't
about to wait for the man to obey. He bunched up his legs and kicked Yaji in
the middle. The man dropped him.
Harry struck out for the far edge of the pool and wasn't really terribly
surprised when Yaji caught him before he'd made it even a few strokes. But,
that wasn't to say he was going to let himself be captured without a fight. He
was furious and so he fought, struggled, kicked and clawed. Ever since he'd
been brought here, they'd pushed and pushed. Now he'd had enough of it.
Frustratingly, Yaji seemed to know what he was going to do before he did it.
And the were-leopard was a thousand times stronger than Harry felt. But, Harry
Potter didn't give up, he never gave up. He squirmed like a wet eel, never
holding still, preventing Yaji from getting a firm grip on him. The man grunted
when one of Harry's kicks connected solidly.
Harry screamed in frustrated rage. Draco was yelling at him to calm down. But,
Harry couldn't stop. He couldn't. He was going to die. He had to fight. He had
to. Flesh slid past his mouth again and he grabbed it with eager teeth. Biting,
tasting blood, hearing shouts. He scratched out. Growling. He felt very
strange. His skin burned, itched, flowed.
Harry was choking. Not on water, but on air. His body burned, all of it, every
inch. He screamed. Flailed. His back arched. He heard someone saying "Get him
out of the water." He kicked, raked skin with his claws, smelled blood. Claws?
Since when did he have claws...? He panicked. His fur bristled up on end, tail
stiff with outrage.
A ringing voice broke into the hub-bub.
"What the hell is going on here?" Lucius yelled. He looked right at Yaji and
the dark furred were-leopard the guard struggled to hold on to.
***** Chapter 24 *****
Chapter 24
 
Graeme held the kitten to him. He was so warm and smelled so good. He nuzzled
his nose into the curls of ruffled, silky, red hair at the young-ling's nape.
Drew the fresh aroused scent into his nostrils. He licked up along the
succulent flesh, tasting him, reveling in the explosion of sweet, clean, kitten
sweat that flowed over his tongue. Ron squirmed, letting out a tiny sound, half
mewl, half sigh. The furs under him added to the sensuality, caressing his skin
with soft thickness.
Ron murmured a plea, arching into the lick. He stretched his throat, long and
available, loving the way the sharp teeth scraped over his skin, tightening it
all over his body. He craved the movement of all that power against his back,
those strong arms holding him, capturing him. Compelling him to serve, while
giving him so much to need, driving him to whimpered pleading.
Graeme's fingers found their way up over Ron's chest discovering his tight
nipples, rolling them, while he nipped at the exposed throat. Ron whimpered
again, growling his desperation deep in his throat, a sound that Graeme heard
and acknowledged with this own rumble of lust.
Graeme lifted Ron's leg, opening him, sending his fingers down below, ghosting
over the exposed parts. Ron was already erect, hard, long and eager, waiting
for Graeme's next move. The man's hand held him, held his fragile testes,
rolling them with a gentleness that was so unexpected, so erotic, new sweat
dewed Ron's body.
Graeme slid his hard cock up between the kitten's legs. His kitten. So good. He
rubbed himself along the hot flesh. Over perineum and anus, getting them wet,
loving the feel of slick, slippery, intimate flesh. Loving Ron's begging gasps,
his relaxed submission, giving the decisions all over to the older were-cat.
This was what Graeme loved about this kitten. He surrendered better than any
other he'd had under him. The copper-haired man positioned himself and inched
into the tight heat of the young-ling's willing body. Ron let out an unsteady
cry, dropping his head back and onto Graeme's muscular shoulder. Graeme pulled
back a fraction then bore in, back and forth, teasing and promising, then
delivering it all in one long stroke.
Ron let out a shivery moan, fingers clawing at the fur beneath him. Graeme was
buried deep in the youth's body. Moving slowly, driving them both crazy with
the exquisite friction. The perfect roundness of the kitten's butt was close
into Graeme's pelvis, fitting their bodies so well, so made to be joined here,
like this. He surged up and in, hard, but not punishing, hearing Ron's hitched
breath.
The man slid his hand up and into the bright, tangled strands. He cupped the
soft cheek, turned the kitten's face to the side, leaning forward and pressing
their lips together. Nibbling at the soft mouth.
Ron's eyes flew wide. He moaned louder. Lips parting and hungry for the first
touches of tongue on tongue, his first kiss from Graeme ever. Graeme fucked, he
did not make love, he did not kiss. Not until now. Ron moved. His body thrummed
with the increased sensation, with the way their mouths melded, devoured and
ate at one another. Wet and so hot, Graeme sucked on the kitten's slippery
tongue while he thrust up into Ron's body.
Ron writhed, his breath coming in short gasps, his hands fumbled around finding
Graeme's hip and pulling him in even tighter, even deeper, arching and pushing
back into the larger, stronger body. Graeme rode him, in so deep, Ron had to go
limp and give in to the feel of it, to let it happen, to let it be done to him.
He was stretched, filled, plumbed. There was nothing better, nothing so breath
stealing as this, as having the big cock buried in him, having the kiss going
on and on, having his skin screaming for more and begging for less, it rolled
over him, he could not control it, couldn't stop it, or slow it. His body
released, sensation flying down his skin, his nerves, into his pelvis.
He came so hard he was nearly unconscious. Graeme's breath huffed in his ear,
over his damp cheek, fingers digging into his hips, like sculpted rock, holding
him as he pumped into the tight, squeezing sheath that surrounded him. As they
came virtually together, Ron's keening cry of completion caught, at last, in
the other's all consuming kiss.
***** Chapter 25 *****
Chapter 25
 
Lucius had a split second to react as the spitting, snarling beast pushed off
of big Yaji, leaving fresh furrows in the guard's thighs and launched itself at
the king. He caught the clawed creature with utmost care, knowing he had to
support it carefully and quickly if he didn't want claws anchoring into his
flesh for balance.
One hand went down to catch the frantic kitten's hips, providing sturdy,
unflinching support, the other went up around the feline shoulders. The cat's
huge paws wrapped around the caps of the king's shoulders. Lucius cradled the
kitten to his body, tight but not tight enough to scare the young-ling, feeling
the prick of extended claws, but no digging in deep, as the kitten felt secure
without it.
Gently, Lucius held the kitten. Harry. Lucius glared over the were-cat's body
at his son and the two body-guards. Mantheer still had both hands on Draco's
bare biceps, towering menacing and protectively behind the naked young man.
Yaji stood slightly apart, blood running down his wet body in thick runnels.
Draco was staring at the wounds in horror and trying to go to Yaji. Mantheer
held firm.
"Explanations? Anyone?" Lucius asked, his voice soft and comforting, while his
eyes sparked his enormous displeasure. The kitten rubbed it's cheek along his
own. He returned the gesture, he felt a warm, moist nose push into the curve of
his throat. He waited for one of the others in the room to speak.
"They thought Harry was going to hurt me." Draco volunteered, attempting to pry
Mantheer's hands off. Wriggling. "Mani! Let me go!"
The big man ignored him, jerking his head at the bleeding man. Yaji moved
nearer, near enough Draco could touch him. Draco stopped trying to get free,
assessing the wounds he could now reach.
"Why would they think that?" Lucius asked mildly, returning the nuzzling the
kitten was giving him.
"I...I told Harry something. It surprised him. He reacted badly. He yelled.
But, he wasn't going to hurt me." Draco explained absently.
"What was it that you told him?" Lucius asked more pointedly with the faintest
hint of sharpness in the tone. Draco was distracted by that, looking up. Biting
his lip.
"Father...I..." This was not the time or place he wanted to talk to his father
about his decision. He wanted to be some where private, and quiet. He wanted
Lucius to take him seriously, not see this as part of just another crisis to
manage.
"Spit it out, Draco. I have had enough for today." Lucius said. His eyes were
silver slits. The kitten was licking his face now, enthusiastic strokes, and
Draco, even across the room heard the purr. His father's muscles bunched,
holding the kitten close, leaning into the wet lapping caresses.
"I have decided to bear the pride's next heir." Draco said, suddenly calm. His
voice was resolute. He straightened up, Mantheer's hands going rigidly still on
him. Yaji stayed where he was, but he stiffened at the announcement.
"Oh. You've decided that, have you?" Was Lucius' response. Draco was not fooled
but the lazy tone. There was going to be a discussion on this. With a capital
'D'. He was not wrong. Lucius turned and headed out of the bathing room.
"Follow me," he said. And all of them obeyed. Yaji trailing a bloody dribble
and red footprints.
 
Draco entered his father's private chambers for the first time since childhood.
The king of the pride needed a place that was his, not open to the majority of
the pride, and this was it. Where he slept, where he went when he wanted to be
alone. Draco wondered, as he looked around curiously, if Mantheer and Yaji had
been in here before. He remembered that Harry had said he came here, actually
slept here.
Lucius went to the bed, wide and covered in furs. He mounted the bed, carrying
the kitten with him, settling them both on top of it. The kitten stretched out
luxuriously, its paws flexing, to show long wickedly hooked, ivory claws. It
rolled onto its back, gazing with half closed eyes around the room, upside
down, pink nose twitching. Lucius actually smiled at the animal, and ran a slow
caress up and down the kitten's exposed, raven furred belly. It yawned, emerald
green eyes closing in pure bliss, purring.
The kitten stretched, a long, shuddering stretch of all four limbs, accompanied
by a huffing grunt. Lucius kept up his soothing stroke and directed his
attention to his son, tugging at the were-leopard's relaxed tail.
"Draco." He said, alerting the young man that now was the time to explain
himself.
"I have thought of it, the solution to the problem of the heir. I have the
blood. I am not lycanthrope, but I am a wizard. With the right potions, I can
bear a child for the pride." Draco got right to the point. He sensed that his
father was not in the mood for pussy-footing around.
"And just when did you have time to figure this out?" Lucius murmured, a tinge
of sarcasm in his voice. Harry stirred in his stupor, letting out a quizzical
"rowr", with a very clear question mark tacked onto the end. He pushed his head
up into the hand petting him.
"Well, I...it just came to me, that it was the answer. Why should it matter how
long I've thought about it?" Draco asserted, defensively. Distracted by the odd
sight of his father petting his classmate. "It is the right thing to do. I know
it. The perfect solution. I am the only one of our blood left to have a child.
Mother can't, you can't, and Andromeda is totally out of the question."
"And if your child is resistant to lycanthropy, as are you and your mother?"
Lucius asked as he cuddled the bulky form of his changed Chosen. He favored
Draco with a challenging look. As if to tell him this was his one chance to
defend himself and his idea.
"I am young, I am not limited to just one child or even two." The young man
replied, and he stopped it there, forbidding himself to spout endless defenses,
to sink to uncertainty.
"A pregnancy is not as easy for a young man as for a young woman, Draco."
Lucius reminded him. "You may have only the one chance."
"It is what I am meant to do. I know it."Draco insisted. "I will have the
conception witnessed, so there will be no doubt as to the parentage. And I will
have Kaithas scanning me, I *will* bear a child who can be turned. My word."
"Your noble sacrifice?" Lucius questioned, threading his fingers though Harry's
long, lush, dark fur, up behind his large, mobile, triangular ears. "You have
never been anything but heterosexual. Do you seek absolution for your past? Is
it a way of atoning? Life doesn't work that way."
He sounded tired. Draco grit his teeth stopping the angry rush of words that
fought to get out, the words driven to the surface by hurt. By the casual
dismissal the question intimated. As much as he'd endured, his father had
endured more.
"No. Not a sacrifice. I am meant to be a part of the pride. I thought I was to
be its heir, its future king. But that is not possible. What is possible is
that I can continue the bloodline of our kings. I can give the pride the heir
it needs, with Malfoy blood. And, I can be the Mother of the heir. That is how
I am meant to fit in." After he said the words, the king, his father looked
right at him. At last he nodded.
"Very well, Draco. Mantheer. Send for Kaithas. We have plans to discuss."
Lucius then turned his back on the rest of the room and it's occupants. He
burrowed into the silky fur of his bed companion, inhaling the pleasant, feline
musk.
***** Chapter 26 *****
Chapter 26
 
Kaithas tried not to stare at the bizarre creature lounging on the king's bed.
Harry, it was apparent, was having trouble going from were-leopard to human or
vice-versa. Usually the transition was rapid, either one form or the other in a
snap. Kaithas had only infrequently seen a were-animal of any persuasion in the
state the young man was in.
The exception was when one was very powerful. Then a partial transformation was
possible. Lucius could do it at will, fading in and out of form, Amrys almost
as easily and occasionally Graeme could. Kaithas could not. It said alarming
things about the young Potter's abilities. Kaithas had never heard about one so
young having the ability.
Harry was sprawled over the bed furs, Lucius next to him. Harry's human face
was very annoyed. His body was mostly human also. But his hands were still big,
round, soft furred paws, his ears feline and the long fluffy tail was
impressive. Other than that the naked boy seemed fine. He appeared in fact much
more comfortable with his nudity than before. Then he opened his mouth, and
mewled.
Kaithas coughed to hide his amusement. The boy couldn't speak yet. He was
betting *that* was the source of the annoyance. Potter had things he wanted to
say. He hissed, showing kitty-cat fangs. Kaithas struggled harder to not smile.
Harry was frustrated and by the looks of things, it was going to take a little
while for him to fully change one way or the other.
Mantheer returned to the room after the Seer and went to his fellow guardian.
Yaji's bleeding had all but stopped and the big were-leopard seemed to be in
little if any pain. The edges of the wounds were knitting together. Mantheer
was pleased by what he saw. By morning there would only be faint marks. By the
end of the week, he would be completely healed, as if the incident had never
taken place.
Mantheer settled down, taking a place next to the other man and lifted one of
Yaji's arms, leisurely he began to lick the other leopard clean of the dried
and drying blood. The king's son watched them, swallowing hard.
Draco had taken advantage of the lull between Mantheer leaving to find Kaithas
and now to get dressed in clean clothing. He was seated near the two body
guards in dark shirt and trousers. He managed to look away from the grooming
with an effort. Why was it so hard to do so?
Kaithas approached the bed and Lucius, presenting himself to his king. Harry
growled a bit under his breath, but seemed disinclined to attack, so Kaithas
thought of it as merely an irritable greeting rather than a warning. He almost
changed his mind when Lucius moved toward him, reaching out and rubbing their
faces together, because Harry's growl deepened and grew in volume. He felt
weight shifting on the bed, and unconsciously braced himself.
Lucius took no notice of the kitten beyond swiping at him with a gentle swat.
He indicated Draco with a nod. The alpha kept his body between Harry and the
rest of the room's occupants.
"My son has a matter for the pride's Seer to rule on." The king said mildly. He
looked at Draco. Pinning him with serious grey eyes. Sitting so Harry curled
around his body, he listened to the beginning of the conversation.
"I wish to bear the pride's heir." Draco said. Each time he said it, it grew
easier to say and he grew more sure that it was the right thing to do. His
uncertainty was fading. Kaithas, however, looked startled.
"How old are you?" Was the first thing Kaithas asked. Draco frowned.
"I will be eighteen in one month," he responded, fixing Kaithas with steely
blue eyes. Daring the other man to say he was too young.
"Young to have children for male or female." Kaithas said in return, ignoring
Draco's scowl. "And, given your blood, no easy thing to assure the child will
be capable of being the pride's heir."
"I am willing to have a witnessed conception and to have you monitoring me."
Draco told the older man. The Seer's brows raised.
"You are willing to forgo all your privacy? Have you endured monitoring
before?" Kaithas asked point blank. "Do you know what it is?"
"Only when I failed to change." Draco said, "I was scanned then, before my
mother admitted she was the source of my resistance."
"When I was away from the pride." Kaithas confirmed, "I had forgotten. So, you
know that I will be within your mind while the mating is occurring, and that if
it fails to result in a conception that will be the heir you will have to
repeat the mating until the right combination is achieved? That you will have
no private thoughts?"
"I understand. I have also heard there is a manner of preparation that will
virtually guarantee the child will be the heir." Draco said in reply. Not
faltering in his determination.
It was Kaithas' turn to frown his disapproval. "You speak of letting me select
the father of the heir, the one who will be most capable of fathering the heir.
You will accept whomever I choose for the task? Without reservation?"
"I believe I know who you will select. I am also a wizard, Kaithas." Draco
turned his eyes towards Harry. "And if Potter will...."
He got no further. The king of the pride came up off the bed. "MY Chosen." He
said in a warning tone of voice. "I won't have him used for this, Draco."
Draco shook his head. "Your Chosen, yes I know. I only wish for him to let me,
us, Kaithas and I, use his power to assure the conception is the one we want.
That is all." He made a wrinkled nosed face. "I don't want him to fuck me.
Ewww."
Lucius continued to glower, but Harry was up and moving to the edge of the bed,
he nodded his head solemnly, making an inquiring mewl. He grimaced, and raised
his brows at Draco. Kaithas, despite the seriousness of the conversation, had
to bite his lip hard to fight back a small grin. The new kitten managed to
telegraph plenty of meaning with his meow. Draco was also able to understand
the implied question.
"It *is* what I want, Potter." The other young man responded, knowing that was
Harry's concern.
"What will this use of his power consist of?" Lucius asked as Harry brushed up
against his side, working his way under the king's arm and into a hug.
It was Kaithas who answered. "We will screen those who have potential to father
a child with Draco. As you are aware, there are different rates of success with
different fathers. I am not sure that I approve, but if Draco will agree to let
me chose the father, we can come close to finding the perfect match, one that
will result in a heir for the pride."
"Yet you have reservations? Why?"
"I would prefer that Draco have some connection with the man who will father
his child. An emotional bond making the intimate act more palatable, rather
than something that must merely be endured as a means to an end." Kaithas
explained to Lucius.
"No. I will not put any restriction on the choice. I will have love separate
from conception if I must. The need of the pride comes first in this instance.
I will accept the father you chose into my body." Draco insisted, expression
set.
Lucius looked at him long and hard. He turned to the Seer. His gaze fierce and
direct. He had heard enough. Now was the time for a decision.
"Your decision on this?" Lucius asked the other man, the Seer to his pride and
before him to his father's pride. A man who's judgment he trusted.
"I agree with your son. He may be Mother to the heir of the pride." Kaithas
said slowly, praying silently that it would be the right decision.
***** Chapter 27 *****
Chapter 27
 
Draco looked up at the members of the pride who walked past him. They reached
out to him, most knew him, had watched him grow. At one time they'd believed
him to be the future of the pride. Each sniffed him. Learning for themselves
that he was not with child, reacquainting themselves with the youth who at one
time had been the heir himself. And now sought to give them back a future, with
a child of his body, who would be the heir.
He sat on the rectangular rock that was the king's throne, furs draped it,
cushioned it, warmed the cold stone, but still he shivered. Thick crimson
velvet and silk covered his own body.
Beneath the cloth he was naked, in preparation for the night's further
activity. He curled his toes under and hid his bare feet in the folds of the
voluminous robes. He tried to take comfort in the fact these were new robes.
Not the ones his mother had worn when he had been conceived. These robes were
new and carried no history of failure. He loved her, but she had lied. Now he
had a chance to defeat that lie she had told, to make it unimportant, simply
past history. If he gave the pride a new birth to celebrate.
While the endless greeting line progressed, Kaithas and Harry Potter sat behind
him, Harry sitting close enough to offer support. Harry himself was held in the
arm of the pride's king, Lucius. Held secure against the strong body and deep
chest. Imparting what he could of his own comfort to the young man who leaned
along his side.
Standing to either side of the throne stood Mantheer and Yaji, both tall and
immobile pillars, patiently waiting. Graeme and Amrys were next to Lucius. All
stayed silent as the procession continued, until the last of the pride
finished. Then the gathering arena was cleared.
Remaining was the core of the pride's leadership.
Draco looked only at his hands, he found suddenly he did not have the courage
to look at the men who surrounded him, who would watch him in this most
intimate of acts. His request had been the reason they were here, why they
would watch all of it.
A hand touched his bowed head. No words, just a touch, and he turned into that
hand, knowing it from years of growing up and being cared for. Years of being
protected. He knew if he only said the word, that hand would carry him away
from here. Suddenly the last place he wanted to be. But, now he thought that
maybe he could get through it.
Draco lifted his head. He met the gaze of the Seer who had come around to stand
in front of him.
"Do you wish this to happen, Draco Malfoy?" Kaithas asked with gentleness.
Draco reached up and took the hand that was comforting him. Mantheer's rough
palm was reassuringly familiar as he held it. He turned his head to the other
side and Yaji was there, crouched down so their eyes were on a level. Without
saying anything Yaji asked what Draco wanted.
It was time. Draco looked up at Kaithas. drew in a deep breath.
"Yes. I want to do this."
"Then let it begin."
The fire crackled, the only light in the arena. Casting a golden-red glow
throughout the room. Draco let Kaithas' careful hands bear him backwards to
rest flat on the stone. The catches and ties of the robe were loosed and
opened, until he was framed in crimson red silk. His naked body white in stark
contrast.
Harry came closer, leaning down and placing both palms on Draco's upper arms as
Kaithas had counseled. His raven hair brushed Draco's forehead. A kiss was laid
on his cheek.
Lucius loomed off to one side, stern and regal as he observed. More king than
father this night. Though his tight jaw spoke to the difficulty of that.
Mantheer and Yaji knelt shoulder to shoulder, a wide wall on the opposite side
from the king, who had Graeme beside him. Kaithas took a step towards the head
of the throne walking slowly until he was behind Harry one hand on each of the
young-ling's shoulders.
Amrys, the man Kaithas had chosen to father the heir, climbed up onto the
stone. Draco let out a small yip as the blond man parted his thighs, moved up
between them. Amrys stilled, his eyes fixed on Draco's face. He waited as a
spasm closed the legs tight around him, so tight he could not move without
hurting the youth.
At last Draco felt the worst of the tremors abate, he nodded at the pride's
second. He watched Amrys move forward, gloriously nude, a beautiful man. But
Draco had never been much moved by beauty not feminine. What he saw was power,
strength to great for him to resist it. Any fight he would lose. Amrys could do
whatever he wished and Draco had not the power to stop him.
Amrys lifted his legs, resting them on his own thighs. His hand went to Draco's
buttocks, just holding him, trying to get him used to the feel of bigger hands
on him. Draco let his head fall back with a muffled thump.
Amrys' fingers touched him intimately, and at the same time Harry was suddenly
inside his mind. Kaithas was a dim shadow compared to the shining,
overwhelming, brightness of Potter. Draco gasped, writhed up and away from the
were-leopard between his legs. He turned his head, met the hundreds of watching
eyes. It was too much, too many. His thighs spasmed.
"No!" He panted. "No!"
***** Chapter 28 *****
Chapter 28
 
Amrys was up and away the instant the first "no" sounded.
Draco just lay trembling. Harry was bent over, his face next to his friend's.
He squirmed around out of Kaithas' hold and wrapped himself around Draco,
feeling for the robes and tossing them to cover him.
"I have to, I have to," Draco was crying as he said it. It was clear that his
body and mind were of different views.
"No you don't." Harry told him, stroking his soft blond hair. "You don't have
to."
"Harry! I do need to. I can't explain...." Draco rotated until they were
plastered together front to front, his back to the curious crowd. His arms
hugging tight to the other. "It's only that I don't know what to expect."
"Who would you trust to show you?" Harry asked. "Sometimes trust is more
important than anything else. Perhaps for the first time..." Draco shook his
head against Harry's neck.
"I...trust Amrys." He said. And he did. It was just having a man between his
legs, knowing he was going to let the man into his body, let him penetrate him.
Well, it was harder than he expected to lay still and let it happen, that was
all.
"Not enough for this, Draco." Harry told him quietly.
"I do. I just need to...it needs to be...different." Draco couldn't articulate
exactly what he meant. He grimaced, 'way to go, Malfoy,' he thought. 'You've
talked everyone else into it, now you can't go through with it. What are they
going to think of you after this?'
"You can wait." Harry said.
"Yes." It was Kaithas who spoke next. The bigger man was bent low over them.
His eyes greatly concerned. "This does not have to be done today. Tomorrow will
do just as well, or the next day. Or next week. Do not force yourself. When the
time is right..."
"No. No. I need to do it now, tonight. I'll be alright." Draco said, urgently.
Kaithas and Harry, well really all the men in the room, were watching him with
worry and caring. He resisted the urge to hide his blushing face.
Mantheer and Yaji watched, eyes both very sad. They wanted to save him from
this, because it was hurting him, upsetting him. Yet, they would support him if
he wished, standing by him as he met the obligations he chose to set for
himself.
"Fine. Let me help you?" Harry said at last after the silence drew itself out
long, becoming almost uncomfortable. Amrys was looking at Draco with wary eyes.
"Please. I need to do this," Draco said again. This time he was looking back at
Amrys, as if afraid the man would refuse to follow through.
"I know. We'll get you through it. I promise." Harry reached out towards
Mantheer and Yaji, beckoning them closer.
"Get behind him. Hold him." Harry told the big man, Yaji, but he was surprised
when Lucius was there instead, gently moving the guardian aside. Lucius scooped
his son up, enfolding him in his sheltering arms, the red robes falling like
weighted, scarlet water around them both. Draco held on like he needed an
anchor in a storm, arms wound around his father's neck and upper body, his face
buried in the sweet scented, flowing blond hair, so like his own.
"We do not need to do this here." The king's silver gaze took in all those who
stood around the throne. "Come. If my Chosen can sleep in my bed, the heir can
be conceived there." He strode out of the room, carrying the young man, his
son, in his arms.
 
The king's room was quieter, with much fewer people in it than had been in the
arena. The feeling of intimacy and privacy was comforting, Draco instantly felt
better as Lucius lay him on the bed furs, loosening his robes, spreading them
out. He gestured to Mantheer and Yaji.
"Change," the king said and they obeyed. He beckoned the two furry were-
leopards, one a bit lighter, the other a bit darker, up onto the bed, to lay
one on each side, so Draco was shielded, held without being held, embraced by
warmth and security, by the two who had kept him safe all of his life. Nothing
bad would happen while they were so close. Draco knew that. He began to relax,
his hands filled with their fur, rubbing and holding, nervously.
"Harry, Kaithas." Lucius called them and they moved up to the head of the bed.
Harry grasped the hand Draco held up to him.
"Is this better? Harry asked. And was relieved when the other young man nodded.
Harry curled up around Draco's head, sliding effortlessly into mental contact
with him. This time Draco was not frightened, he was ready, he did not resist
the slow merging, it was not an invasion now. He expected it. It was familiar
and he did not feel the need to flee or to resist.
There was not so much blinding brightness this time, rather a steady glow in
his brain and the shadow he associated with Kaithas, the Seer was more
pervasive, modulating the brightness, making it bearable, using his skills to
tame the awesome power of Harry Potter to a tolerable level. Draco sighed. He
almost didn't notice when Amrys joined him on the bed.
The pride's second rested his strong hands on Draco's thighs, patient, non-
threatening, merely holding him, letting him adjust to the contact. It was
better, Draco could do it like this. He let his legs fall open, meeting Amrys'
eyes. This man was the father of the heir. The Sire. Draco welcomed him,
extending the hand that Harry wasn't holding. The relief on the older man's
face was immediate. He smiled down.
Draco was aware of Harry's thoughts and memories as Amrys touched him. Harry
was recalling how Lucius' hands felt as they wandered over his body. His
arousal at the memory was seeping into Draco's consciousness, warming him. He
let Amrys touch him, spreading slickness, as Draco lay secure, safe between his
leopard guardians.
"Do you accept me?" Amrys asked softly, leaning close.
***** Chapter 29 *****
Chapter 29
 
Submission. That was it, the hang up, the one thing that terrified him most,
Draco thought. He was a Malfoy. He'd been raised to be a ruler, a leader. He
did not do submission well. He had never learned how. But, that was what was
required now.
Harry on the other hand, in spite of his wealth of power, knew how to submit.
And how to make the submission graceful and erotic. Now, Harry was inside his
mind, sharing this experience and Harry was guiding him, helping him to
understand. Draco was going to learn to do it right. To give in.
Draco sighed, a deep release of tension, a surrendering of fear and embraced
the feeling of what was happening to him. It was good. Who would have guessed
not being in control could feel like this? Like a caress of velvet over his
skin, each stroke of the large hand. The thumbs spreading him open, a light,
slippery touch.
Draco associated men with force, with brash confidence and authority. With
taking when it came to sex, not giving. Harry had a subtly different view. He
expected strength, got it, and still demanded gentleness, even as he gave up
his control. He surrendered his control to get what he wanted. The man he gave
himself to had to cherish him, he would accept nothing less than being treated
as a precious lover.
The concept astonished Draco. His passionate encounters with women had not been
that way. They had been pleasant, some of them truly sexy. Yet, none had held
the bone-deep craving he felt from Harry's memory of the couplings he'd had
with the king of the pride. The man Harry called his lover. Draco's father.
Hands lifted his hips, careful, caring hands, oh so strong ones. Draco let it
happen, bending into position, accepted the slick fingers opening him, sliding
inside, stretching him. The wetness massaging him. It didn't hurt. He had
expected pain. What he felt now was both relaxing and exciting. He wasn't
aroused so much, not yet, but he was liking the way he was being touched. It
felt good.
Amrys moved closer, lifted Draco up until his buttocks rested on his thighs,
shifting his long fingers into the body spread out before him. Hot and lovely.
The small hole yielding to his explorations. He watched his fingers
disappearing inside the taut ring of muscle. He touched the small bundle of
nerves inside the youth and was rewarded with a sharp cry, turning into a long,
low moan. Draco shuddered, his belly twitching, a flat stretch of muscle. His
erection filling.
Draco let out a breath, a sigh, of pure, sweet pleasure. His penis was
stirring, half hard as it lay on his belly. The stretching was the best. Draco
did not analyze why, he just liked it. The touch gliding in and out, turning
inside of him. He wanted more, he wanted larger things inside, things that
would fill him full. He also, unusually for him, didn't feel like he had to do
anything but enjoy the feeling.
The next touch was blunter, slower. Oh. Yes. Amrys, long and thick and hard.
Draco wanted it. He loved the sensation, how his body opened, took the invader
in. The dilation was exquisite, deepening until he dropped his head back and
shivered, just taking what he was being given. He turned his face to one side,
felt fur and heat as he rubbed against the flank of the leopard. Harry smoothed
his hair back. Kissing him softly, soothingly, on the forehead.
This time Draco didn't need the soothing, he arched up, opening to the man
sinking into his body. He let out a soft keen. The rest of the men in the room
felt the sound filter through all of their nerves, drawing their skin tight,
clutching at their chests, sharp and immediate need, drawing them all closer to
the two who were coupling.
Amrys went in deep, slow, and gentle as he moved, careful to do nothing to turn
the young man's pleasure into pain. His big hands held the slim hips, supported
them, moved them as he went, a wave of motion, advancing and receding. He rode
the slender body, feeling the hot, wet flesh, melting around his erection,
virgin tight. He pressed in further, back curving, rotating his hips, stirring
the tunnel around his cock and Draco cried out, his legs hitching higher,
falling wider, supported on the furred backs of the were-leopards to each side,
giving Amrys the message, the older man understood it well. The pale body was
his, to pleasure as he willed.
The curve of the young man's pale flesh, his bared throat was temptation the
were-leopard on his left could not resist. Yaji nuzzled his feline nose into it
and was rewarded by a sharp inhalation as Draco's nipples peaked. Amrys saw and
drew them into tight little peaks with his fingers as he thrust harder, far
deeper this time and Draco groaned.
Harry panted in time to Draco, experiencing the penetration every bit as much
as the blond young man was. In tandem they gasped, breath mingling, hot,
brushing past one's cheek, then the other's, Harry licking his face, Draco
unable not to do the same, unable not to repeat the wet lap of tongue along
Harry's cheek.
Harry suddenly groaned, long and drawn out, almost pain, but more desire. Draco
looked up, noting that Lucius had come to kneel behind Harry, running hand down
his side, over his buttocks. Harry trembled and the tremor passed from him all
the way through Draco and into Amrys' flesh. Harry sank his teeth into Draco's
shoulder, letting out a cry against his skin.
Draco felt it, the rhythm of sex, from between his legs and from above, Harry
was being taken, as he was. The cries multiplied, drove him higher, he gasped,
writhing, the intensity of Amrys' pumping into him growing exponentially.
Harder, deeper, longer. Shivering in every nerve, forcing him to moan. Sweat
beading on all his skin. Harry's hands clasped in his, they braced each other,
both young men being ridden, the slap of flesh loud, the moans, louder.
Draco felt it begin. The gathering of power at the small of his back, his
thighs, all growing and coalescing, intensity building, Harry's breath harsh,
fast, uncontrolled, as his own. The begging words, not his, because he was
beyond speech, as the sensations all rushed to his pelvis, his genitals, and
into the depths of his body, clamping around Amrys' every thrust.
Draco screamed. It rolled over him, turning every muscle to jelly, he peaked.
He felt the jets of heated seed empty into him, fill him, and he felt the
repeat of the same happening to Potter. While Harry whimpered, Draco groaned,
helpless, he couldn't move, he could only take it, every slowing thrust, each
shared shudder, until there was nothing left and Amrys collapsed on top of him,
rolling to the side so he wouldn't crush the smaller man.
Sated. Oh, God. Limp. Sated, so deeply satisfied he couldn't even lift his
head, or speak his thanks. Only pant, trying to recover his breath. Kaithas'
hands were on him, comforting, touching his abdomen. Seeking the new life Draco
already knew was there.
***** Chapter 30 *****
Chapter 30
 
Andromeda prowled her velvet and silk prison. She was furious that the
werewolves thought they had a right to hold her here at all. It was utterly
ridiculous. She had no obligation to tell the wolf king, she snarled at that
appellation, that she'd had a baby. The baby was hers, the heir to the leopard
pride. Not a stinking werewolf.
She kicked at one of the heavy chairs topped with many pillows that filled the
room. They wanted to pretend they could make her comfortable. Make this
arrangement the perfect solution. Tambyn came and spoke with her, brought
Christoper, but she was never permitted to see the child alone. Her own son.
Tambyn, when she indignantly complained, told her up front that he didn't trust
her to keep the boy safe. She gnashed her teeth. She had raised him, alone!
Her! Not him. How dared he pass judgment when he had offered no help at all. It
totally escaped her escalating fury, that she herself had kept him in the dark.
Now she was stuck. In this place, unable to bargain with Lucius for the return
of the heir to the pride, in exchange for certain concessions long overdue her.
Both as a leader of the pride and as the Mother of the heir. There was a list
of changes that she would demand. If Tambyn would just let her send out a
message.
She'd tried to seduce him. That had met with failure. The silly idiot had
allowed himself to be paired with some alpha bitch and now he was faithful to
her. Andromeda shook her head. If she had time she'd take over this pack and
show them how a ruler lived, how a ruler ran things. But she had to get back to
the pride first of all. That was priority one.
Bribery had also met with failure. That had been her first choice. Throw money
and the promise of power, alliances at her guards. But they'd been too stupid
to be interested in her offers. They'd actually dared to ignore her.
So what that left her with, since outright methods weren't working, was
cunning. She needed a good sneaky plan that would get her free of this place.
She would have to come back for Christopher. Too bad, but she knew she would be
caught if she tried to take him with her during her initial escape. No. She
needed to get free and then work on a rescue for her beautiful child.
It was possible that having Christopher held by the pack could be used to her
advantage. Dropping a hint or two to the pride that he was a prisoner and
mistreated ought to result in some reaction. A move to save the pride's heir.
The pride would respond. She considered that eventuality with one of the few
smiles she'd indulged in since being taken hostage. Oh yes. This might be the
final straw, the way to turn the pride against Lucius.
A scratching noise and a muffled thump distracted her. It came from the hall
outside her gilded room. She moved to the side of the door, listening hard.
Damn her brother! If he'd agreed to turn her then she'd be able to hear
everything happening out there clearly.
As it was she heard more thumps and gasps, as if someone was in pain. She
wrinkled her nose. Something smelled bad, very bad. She needed no enhanced
sense of smell to tell her that. Probably one of the foul beasts keeping her
here.
She took several hasty steps back when she heard the sound of a key turning in
the big old fashioned lock of the door. It screeched as it turned, because the
wolves had taken no trouble to oil the lock. Woeful neglect, not that she
expected better.
The door began to push into the room as it opened. Andromeda backed up, looking
around and finding a nice sturdy candlestick. Sort of a cliche weapon, but hey,
she cold not be too picky on such short notice. and the instrument had nice
heft. It would be capable of doing damage, if that was necessary.
The door swung in further, and she saw a hooded figure push partway inside. She
raised the candlestick, preparing to strike and then make a run for it. A
perfect opportunity for escape should not be squandered. The form lifted it's
head. Andromeda felt mildly ill. She knew that face. Or at least part of it. It
was a terrible combination of male and female, human and beast.
"Come!" The ragged voice was almost worse than the face. But Andromeda liked to
think of herself as a practical woman. She did not hesitate to move for the
door and freedom. She followed Sybil Trelawny out into the hall. Her eyes fell
on the collapsed forms of the guards laying on the flagstones. She made no
effort to hide the satisfied smirk that graced her face at the sight.
Andromeda stepped over the fallen werewolf, grinning ferally. She delivered a
swift kick in the ribs to the unconscious wolf. Stinking beast! It served him
right! He'd rejected her offers, now he was paying for it. Andromeda tossed her
long blonde hair and followed the shuffling hooded figure out of the corridor.
No need to tempt fate. A swift withdrawal was called for. Plenty of time for
gloating later. After she got her son back. Then there would be ample time for
revenge on those who had wronged her. And she would be a bit firmer than she'd
first intended when she got down to the negotiations.
***** Chapter 31 *****
Chapter 31
 
Lucius Malfoy looked up when his second entered the room. The tall, blond man
moved with an undeniable grace. The king smiled, a slight twisting of his lips
as he watched.
This then was the new Sire, a man who, if he wished, could demand equal or
nearly equal rank with the king in the pride's hierarchy. Interestingly, Lucius
was not worried. He knew Amrys. His second was content in his position. He was
dedicated, loyal. The perfect combination of aggression and submission.
Protecting, advising and supporting Lucius as the pride's alpha ruler.
The king's attention returned to the missive in his hand. An owl had delivered
it less than half an hour ago. Lucius had opened the letter, read it, and now
sat considering the unwelcome contents. That damed man had gall, he had to
admit. To *demand* anything from the pride. He never requested. He ordered,
demanded and insisted. As if he, a human magician, had the right.
Lucius was disturbed. The Headmaster of Hogwarts was moving to normalize
things, but Lucius was not certain the evidence that the troubles were over was
sufficient to do so. Putting his pride's kittens at risk for the sake of
appearing "normal" was not an option. The kittens were the future, they had to
be kept safe. He held the crumpled letter from the older wizard in one big
fist, his eyes gone dangerous silver as he glowered.
Amrys stepped up close, taking care to come in sideways as he neared the king,
not using a frontal approach which might be interpreted as a challenge. The
silver eyes narrowed, speculatively, raking his second's body head to foot,
assessing with automatic ease and long practice the threat he represented. Or
not. Amrys went gracefully to his knees, laying his cheek on the king's strong
thigh. Determined to make it clear he was no threat at all, not to his king.
"What is it?" The kneeling man asked, when the tension eased and Lucius' hand
came to his nape. There was a quick prick of claws, but they did not dig deep.
Amrys remained still, waiting, feeling the vibrating anxiety move through the
other man. Within moments Amrys was rewarded with the king's confidences.
"Dumbledore has written to me. The school is safe once more, he thinks. He
demands that Draco, Ron, Blaise and Harry return to their lessons." Lucius
replied, his rich voice sending shivers over his second's lithe body. As the
news sent a frisson of fear lancing through him.
"Was the beast caught? I had not heard..." Amrys asked brow wrinkling, worried.
He rubbed his cheek along the outside of his king's leg. Amrys lifted his head
to look up into Lucius' grim face.
Amrys would not willingly put the Mother of the heir at risk. He had endeavored
to protect Andromeda, who he had actively despised, because of her sacred
position as the Mother. Now Draco held that position, carrying the heir that
Amrys himself had fathered, Amrys actually cared for and loved the young man,
for all that they were not lovers. No one would be allowed to harm Draco, not
while Amrys drew breath and could prevent it.
"No. The monster has not been caught. Nor has it been seen again, no other
students have been harmed. Dumbledore has set up wards to prevent outsiders
from getting onto school grounds. So he says the students are now safe." Lucius
sounded as if he did not believe such actions were great enough a guarantee.
"You do not think it is truly so?" Amrys looked up, the king's hand coming to
rest against his tanned cheek. The strong thumb caressing his face with long,
sure strokes.
"I think the risk is too great. If Draco returns, it will be with his
guardians, Mantheer and Yaji. I am not certain about how to approach the
question of Harry, Ron and Blaise. Harry is my Chosen. I would not see harm
come to him, nor to the other kittens. I need my Chosen by my side." Lucius
said with slow consideration.
"The completion of his course of study at Hogwarts is secondary to his service
to the pride." Lucius' second declared. The king looked down at him, smiling.
"Your loyalty does you credit. But, there may come a time in the boy's future
where his education at Hogwarts is necessary to him."
"You seek to be too fair, my king. The pride is your first priority. It must
always be so." Amrys said, laying the side of his face back onto Lucius' leg to
diminish the challenge in his statement. Lucius allowed the words to pass.
 
There was a commotion in the hall, running feet, more than one pair. Lucius
stood and drew Amrys up with him.
Blaise burst into the room, followed by several of the other kittens. Lucius
had a split second of absolute panic, thinking all sorts of terrifying
possibilities. Up to and including the death of his son or of his Chosen.
Blaise paused and tried to catch his breath, the excitement more than physical
exertion making it short.
Amrys took a step closer to the young-ling, interposing himself between the
king and the kitten. Blaise was panting, his face white, distressed.
"What is it, young-ling?" Amrys asked the frightened kitten, voice firm and
reassuring, he laid a gentling hand on the shaking arm, pulling the shaking
youth into his embrace.
"Oh, my king!' Blaise fell to his knees. "A messenger from the wolves has
arrived. He says Andromeda has escaped, my king. She left three dead in her
wake. And there was a foul stench left behind her. Tambyn wonders if it was the
smell of the one who has been attacking the children at Hogwarts."
***** Chapter 32 *****
Chapter 32
 
Andromeda was furious. She had been lured into a trap by the woman she had been
using to further her own plans. And she had not even suspected it. She should
have. The bitch was insane, incapable of hiding anything, but in her own
arrogance, Andromeda failed to look for duplicity. Now she was caught, albeit
temporarily, like a bug in a web.
It was clear as anything to Andromeda now, as she was a captive. She had to
watch, stay alert and find a way out of this hellhole. The creature brewing
potions was not paying due attention to her and that meant at some point,
Andromeda would have an opportunity to escape. She had to be patient.
Now she was restrained, while the foul creature that was Sybil Trelawny was
bleeding her valuable blood into to a gleaming, highly polished copper bowl.
The witch was licking her dry lips with a long grey tongue, the rasping sound
driving Andromeda crazy with skin ruffling irritation. Lick, lick, lick. Ugh.
Truly nauseating.
The blood dripped slowly, Trelawny muttering in an undertone, watching each
glistening, crimson drop with hungry eyes. Her eyes were the only part of her
that Andromeda recognized. The rest, most of which was mercifully hidden
beneath her heavy cloak, was disgusting, deformed, and lopsided. A fearful
combination of things not meant to be combined. Clearly the result of one of
her transforming spells gone horribly, horribly wrong.
Andromeda refused to allow herself to shudder. She was not a mere human to cave
into terror. She was destined to rule the were-leopard pride. She was a Queen.
One denied her birth-right, but still a queen. And she would not crumble. She
would maintain her dignity in the face of this injustice. She would win in the
end. She only had to be patient.
Andromeda sighed, and watched the foul old bat stirring whatever concoction she
was mixing up. It smelled just awful. Looked worse. Yuck.
 
Amrys watched as the owl flew, snowy white wings beating at the greying air. It
was nearly time for the storm to break, but the owl was charmed and the weather
would not trouble her. She would reach her destination by tomorrow morning.
Lucius had left this task in his hands, knowing it would be well done. He had
given his blessing and the missive bore his king's mark. Amrys though, had been
the one to decide that the were-leopard he now owled should return home. The
order for it flew with the speed of the wind, held in the secure claws of the
owl.
He had thought long on just who would be the best to recall from distant lands
to perform the job the pride needed done. To find the risk to the students and
eliminate it. Then to teach the students who remained at the pride's
stronghold. Amrys had considered many, but the best had risen to the top of the
heap quickly. There was no question.
Bill Weasley was his first choice, an expert at curse breaking, and protective
spells. He could discover what was killing the Hogwarts' students, and thus
threatening the pride's kittens. And he could teach the boys if they did not
return to the school.
Second choice, and not second by much, would be Charlie Weasley, a master of
the beasts, and Dragons in specific. He would be able to find any beast, even
the magicked one who had eluded the gifted tracker Mantheer. And no one denied
he had a gift for teaching and the patience of a saint. He had to, with the
irritable Dragons he cared for.
The owl, a mere dot in the sky as he watched it fly, was on the way to Bill.
Amrys would expect to hear back in less than two days. If Bill could not come,
then the owl would go on to Charlie.
Dumbledore would not get any answers from the pride before then. Lucius had
sent him a missive, outlining the full problem and telling the Headmaster of
the escape. Surely the old man would be alarmed enough to take more
precautions, and understand why the kittens could not return yet.
The risk to the young-lings was too great to allow them to return to Hogwarts
in the near future. Secretly, Amrys knew Lucius did not want to be separated
from Harry, his Chosen for that long. The kitten still came to their bed, was
permitted to sleep there, a place no kitten had ever been allowed to sleep
before. Harry Potter was changing things. Graeme was furious, but thankfully
distracted lately.
Amrys admitted to himself he did not want Draco out of his sight for a day,
much less an entire term. Even knowing that Mantheer and Yaji would watch over
the Mother of the heir. That they cared for Draco's safety every bit as much as
Amrys did, it was still not enough for his peace of mind. The heir was too
valuable to risk his loss, and the Mother's worth was almost as great.
The pride had lost two heirs, Draco and Christopher, though neither had died,
and two Mothers, Narcissa and Andromeda. It could not afford to do so again, it
was a loss so great that it would crumble the pride should it occur. Draco
carried the sacred blood of the pride's royalty inside his body. The pride
needed this heir, desperately.
***** Chapter 33 *****
Chapter 33
 
Draco Malfoy felt different.
It was far too soon to feel pregnant, he told himself, but he swore he did. He
touched his belly many times during the day, holding his palm over the place he
believed the child grew. He liked to think loving thoughts at the growing life
inside him. He smiled as he looked forward to the day he would hold his child
in his arms.
He felt energized. Purposeful. Valued as he hadn't in a long time. Not since he
found he wasn't the heir to the pride. When he'd found he could not be turned.
When he found out he would always be human, never pride.
Strangely, he was also developing a friendship with one of the last people he
would have thought. Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. Formerly known to the
Slytherins as "the Wanker Who Irritated". Draco thought Harry a real prat when
they were at school together. Arrogant and a complete Gryffindor. Now Draco was
beginning to appreciate some of those traits, the same traits he'd once laughed
at and ridiculed. Loyalty. Friendship. Courage.
Harry had stood with him, offering him support. He'd listened when Draco needed
to be heard. And he'd held Draco when he'd been terrified of giving in to
Amrys, terrified of losing his virginity to a man, even by his own choice.
Harry had made it possible for Draco to be the Mother. Oh, he'd probably have
managed to accept Amrys sometime in the future, with lots of agonizing and
unpleasantness and maybe a little alcohol. But with Potter he'd done it in one
day. Gone from fear, to acceptance, to pleasure, to Mother. All of it mostly
painless. All of it worth it.
Now he'd found this most unusual room, *the* room, and he couldn't wait to show
Harry his discovery. Draco never stopped hunting through the vastness of the
Manor. It had been one of his favorite pastimes as a child. And he still had a
taste for it, exploring on his own. There were secret places known to very few.
And secret places known only to the pride. And then there was this place.
The room was dark, lit by one Everburning Candle. The walls gleamed, a nut
brown marble polished to a shine by centuries of reverent fingers. It smelled
faintly of wax, not unpleasant, sort of a religious scent, Draco thought. As if
over the years many scholars had studied in here, some of the monks. He didn't
question why he felt that to be true.
The walls were carved with runes. Dark slashes in the rock. Outlining the laws
of the pride. All the way up to the highest corners. And down to the very lip
of the floor.
Draco wondered why he had never learned about this room before. If all pride
members knew of it, then Harry knew of it. But Draco was willing to bet he did
not. Potter was always clamoring about not being let in on one rule or another.
Now here was the "book" the young were-leopard was always asking for. The
written rules.
Lines and lines of writing, cut deeply into the stone. Too much to read in one
or a dozen sittings. Even if one were, say Hermione Granger. Nope, even Granger
would need a month or more. The runes were not all easy to decipher, some were
obscure, with both ancient and modern, as well as transitional meanings. But,
Harry would want to know. Even if the lists gave him more questions, not fewer.
he would want to know this room was here.
He found Potter in the library, reading, a tall tower of books at his elbow.
Harry's eyes were tired, as if he'd been reading too long. Or not sleeping
well. Draco caught the emerald green gaze and jerked his head towards the hall.
Harry grinned and closed his book. He took his time walking out of the room. He
was familiar enough with Draco to not want to draw undue attention to anything
the other boy was doing.
They walked companionably side by side.
"Wait until you see this, Potter." Draco exclaimed as they headed towards the
room.
Harry let out a gasp when he moved into the room. He cast around, looking
everywhere, finding no square inch of rock that was bare. His sharp feline
vision allowed him to read it, even the words up in the high corners. The laws
of the pride, of all the feline were-prides. Carved in stone. He felt a nervous
giggle trying to rise in his throat. He'd once made a joke about the rules
being carved in stone. This was just...unbelievable.
The wolves and the rodents no doubt had other rules. But Harry now had an in to
the way the pride was run. He wondered...
"Why didn't anyone tell me this was here?" He asked aloud. Tilting his head to
meet Draco's look, the blond shrugged, a smile on his face.
"I don't know, Harry." Draco responded. "I just found it, no one told me about
it. Thought you might like to see it. Before someone finds out and tells us we
can't come here, or something."
"Why would this place be kept secret?" Harry mused, stepping up to the wall and
touching the words with careful, shaking fingers. The room was making him feel
strange. As if ghostly presences hoovered in the still air. As if he was being
watched, not by any malevolent spirit, but simply being watched over. He felt
the sacredness of the room. The quiet that was only rarely felt, the clam of an
inner hold of a church or temple. The sacred place.
"I never knew it was here, they never told me. And they never told you. Maybe
there are only certain members of the pride allowed here? I don't know. Someone
comes here. It is spotless. Not even dust in the grooves." Draco ventured,
running a finger over the markings. "We'd better not let anyone know we've been
here. Just a hunch."
Harry nodded. His eyes were roaming, his heart thumping. He began to read. He
knew he wouldn't get far, not today, but he was compelled to read, just a
little.
***** Chapter 34 *****
Chapter 34
 
Harry tilted his head and stopped walking. Draco stopped next to him,
instinctively inching closer to the other boy. Harry had gone eerily still, as
if he was a statue, not alive.
"What is it, Potter?" Draco whispered as quietly as he could, skin tightening
in a ripple of anxiety.
"I thought I heard..." Harry mumbled, head canted, as if he was listening.
Draco listened as hard as he could with his human senses, but heard nothing. He
was about to say it, when Harry twitched, the tension melting away from his
long, slim body as he moved off.
Harry took a few running steps. Draco watched, moving after him without
hesitation. He'd known of course that Harry was an athlete. They'd played
Quidditch together after all. They'd been pretty equal on that field. Not any
more. The way Harry moved now, it was beyond athletic. It was all feline,
hunter's grace, impossible to look away from. Merlin, Draco realized with a
shock, Potter was beautiful when he moved.
Harry rounded the corner, the disconcerted blond man following him, and froze.
Draco felt the change in the body in front of him as they collided because of
Harry's abrupt halt. He heard the hitch of Harry's breath, felt the pain
vibrating through the taut body. Not knowing how he knew it was pain, but sure
of it.
Harry let out a sound that was more sob than anything else. Draco wrapped his
arms around the slender torso of his friend. Harry was crying, his chest
heaving. Why? My god, why?
"Harry!" Draco hissed urgently, turning the other man towards himself, holding
him tight, stroking his perennially disheveled, raven hair. "What is wrong?"
Then he saw them, way down the hall in an alcove. Tangled arms and legs, dark
caramel skin bisected by pale ivory. Long silver, gold hair, meshed with lush
darkness. They were stunning together, light and dark. Slender and ethereal,
coupled with powerful masculine muscle.
His father and Troy, one of the young-lings from the year before Harry was
turned. Troy's blue-black hair fell in a wave to the floor, thick and shining,
his head thrown back, lips parted, gasping, throat bared for his king's
attentions, gloriously nude head to foot. And Lucius was paying the throat
homage, biting and licking while his lower body moved against the body of his
young-ling, while Troy's legs wound round his king's hips.
Now Draco could hear the sounds of sex that had drawn Harry's attention, the
pleasured moans. He could not look away, even as he held Harry's face against
his chest, so the Chosen could not see it. My god, he thought, my father, he
is...there is no one who can compare to him. His eyes raked over the proud
muscles, and perfect male form. He had never noticed before. But then, what son
looked at his father that way? Lucius had always been his father first. Now he
was seeing him with a stranger's eyes.
Draco knew Troy was not one of the Claimed and Marked before today, he was a
kitten of the pride, but now he was Lucius', if his father chose to advertise
it to the pride. Draco also had assumed that Lucius was falling for Harry. In
purely human terms, he'd thought his father was going to be faithful to the
sobbing young man who he now held, tightly, trying to comfort him.
Now, Draco remembered, saw it from a split perspective. Draco was human, his
father was not. Lucius Malfoy was all pride-king. He took pleasure with his
people where he wished. But, Harry was still too human to cope. He had had no
warning of this, Draco himself had not thought to tell him. Harry'd been
admitted to the king's bed, a thing never done. Naturally, he'd expect to have
the kind of monogamous relationship that showed he was special. The Gryffindor
would think he deserved human-type fidelity in the choice of lovers.
"Harry..." Draco started, seeking words that would help, and finding none.
Harry let out a scream, brimming with pain, and wrenched himself away from
Draco, too strong for the other youth to stop, fleeing in the opposite
direction of the king and his new paramour. Lucius looked up, startled by the
sound, lowering his body to protect the young-one under him. Saw his son and
Harry as he disappeared around the corner.
Draco would never forget the look of surprise, then concern on his father's
face. It was very clear that Lucius didn't understand exactly what was wrong.
He recognized that his Chosen was upset. He looked for threats, found none, was
puzzled by the outburst. Feline to the core, he was having trouble figuring it
out, understanding, why. Kittens weren't permitted jealousies and
possessiveness. Those emotions came with power and position. Lucius expected
Harry to submit and accept.
Draco understood both points of view. He ached for Harry and was enraged at his
father for being caught by the youth in this situation. Though he knew it was
the right of the king to take whomever he wished. A right Draco had never
questioned. A right that, had he become king, he would have exercised. Sex was
affection in the pride.
Love and devotion were separate things from sex. No one loved his father more
than Amrys and Graeme. But, as far as Draco knew, the second and third rarely
had sex with Lucius, if ever. When the three had been younger, it was not
unusual to find them locked together, passionately entwined on any convenient
flat surface within the Manor. Now, though, most of their public touches were
gestures of dominance and submitting to authority of the king, the love between
them was far more obvious. At least to Draco and to the pride.
But Harry was human. Harry didn't know. No one had given him any teaching. He
did not stay with the other young-lings, he had not learned what it was to be a
kitten from them. Harry had refused to obey, to keep to his place. And now he
was being hit in the face with the realities of pride life. Draco ran after his
friend. He had to find a way to explain it all to Potter. Then he was going to
have a talk with his father.
Even a king could learn.
***** Chapter 35 *****
Chapter 35
 
"Father, I would speak with you." Draco said as he entered his father's study
with a purposeful stride. Graeme lounged on the rug near one wall, propped
partly on a pillow as he read a scroll held over him at arm's length. His dark
blue eyes rested on Draco, long lashes shadowing their depths. His eyes asked
questions.
"I have sent for my Chosen," Lucius remarked, interrupting his son. He frowned
at the boy who was the last one he'd seen with his Chosen. His jaw knotted.
"They have not been able to find him. Do you know where his is? Is he well?"
Draco fought back a smirk. It was unlikely the searchers would find Potter. He
and Potter had gone to one of the secret rooms that Draco found many years ago.
Draco had taken care not to reveal it's location to anyone. Harry was curled up
in a heap of furs, probably still weeping as he had been when Draco left to
come here and confront his father.
"I am not surprised, not when he saw you with Troy. He does not wish to be
found." Draco stated, crossing his arms over his chest. He glared up at his
father. Lucius glared back, crossing his own arms over his broad chest.
"What? Why?" Lucius sounded baffled, and a little angry. "Why should he hide
from me? Is he afraid? Has he been threatened? I will protect him. Bring him to
me. He should not be alone."
"No. Why should I bring him to you, when it is you who have hurt him?" The
young man growled. Graeme rolled over onto his belly laying his scroll aside.
He rose to his knees, then shifted to one knee and stood. His long hair floated
in coppery waves around his bare torso, down past his hips. He flicked it
behind him. Out of the way.
 
"I? How have I hurt him?" Lucius was astounded by the accusation. There was no
comprehension in his expression. "I have done him no harm."
"No one has taught him what it is to be of the pride. He spends little time
with the other young-lings. He doesn't understand what it is to be a kitten,
none of you have taught him. I can't, because though I am Mother and belong in
one way, I am human. I don't know all there is to teach him." Draco scolded. He
moved closer to his father.
"I will see to it that he spends more time with the other young-lings." Lucius
said at last. Lifting his chin and staring down at his son. "So that he may
learn our ways. Is that what you wish? Now will you tell me where to find him?
That I may know he is safe."
"No. Father! You will lose him if you send him away from yourself and back to
them! He is not like them. He has never been like any other. Not when he was a
child, or in school and not now." Draco snapped. "Don't you understand? You are
a king. You know how to see the hearts of your people. Why not the heart of one
who loves you to desperation? One who had no idea he would have to see you
coupling with others, because no one told him it is our way!"
"How else is he to learn, Draco?" Lucius growled impatiently. "You have just
chided me for not having him taught, now you tell me I must not send him to
those who can best teach him. What is your pleasure? That I give up what is
mine by right?"
"Let him learn from you. You teach him." Draco asked his father, his face
sincere. Lucius blinked at him. "Tell him you love him, show him, before you
break him. Please!"
"King's do not school kittens." Graeme growled, coming to stand beside and
support his king. "No good has come from his being made an exception. He thinks
he is above the Laws of the pride because you have given him leave to sleep in
your bed. Send him back to the kittens. It is where he belongs."
Lucius sat down on the wide couch. He looked from his son to his third. "Two
who I love and value tell me opposite things in how to care for another I care
for deeply. Which of you is right?."
Lucius turned to the proud, dark haired, pale skinned, were-leopard who was his
third. "You, Graeme, who hold to tradition? Who stand beside me, who is much of
my strength. You, who I have loved since you were so much younger than today?
Long years you have protected me, kept me from harm and served the pride. Is
this the spirit in which you offer your advice today?"
He held up a hand to stop the quick answer. "No. Think on it, question
yourself, truly and honestly, look into yourself, then when I ask for your
answer give it to me from the bottom of your heart. Give me the truth, what you
think I must do for the best of the pride, myself and the kitten who so
troubles you. He is also your ward, he is of your pride, my third. How will you
be assured he will prosper under your care?"
"And you." Lucius turned to Draco. "My son. Mother to the heir. Friend, I
believe, to my Chosen, the one who lay beside you and held your fear at bay.
You tell me. Is your solution best for the pride, for our traditions, for me,
and for Harry as well? Are none harmed by the way you would have me act? My
Chosen must learn to live among us. He must learn our ways. Or, should our ways
be changed? Our traditions abandoned, what has worked for this pride for eons?
Because one kitten can not live with our laws as they are? To whom are we being
unfair? Think on it my son." He waved at them.
"Sit. And think. Both of you." Lucius shared an intense look with each of the
men. "While you think, I will call my Chosen to me. Unless you will tell me
where to find him?" Draco stubbornly shook his head. "Very well. I will use the
call. And then we will all talk."
***** Chapter 36 *****
Chapter 36
 
Harry felt the call. He'd never experienced anything quite like it. It was not
what he'd expected when he'd learned that Lucius could call him.
This was like being caressed with an expert hand, only internally. The
sensation, the need to follow the call whispered over him. Over his skin, down
his throat, into his belly, around his heart, every organ touched with
drowningly deep compulsion. The very cells of his body longed to obey the call.
No. Not painful. But, impossible to ignore. Almost impossible to disobey.
Harry was used to pain. That was how Voldemort had called him. With pain and
torture, his scar feeling like his head would split open, and the promise of
worse if he did not go to him. This was none of that. Harry stood up from his
piled furs. The idea of having to go to this one man, the king, his alpha,
while he still smarted from seeing him intimately embracing another.... That
burned. That was pain.
He toyed with the idea of resistance. Harry had no illusions on that front. He
was strong. He could choose not to go. It would tear at him, but he was capable
of planting his feet and resisting. The question was, was it worth it? He was
tired. He felt empty. Vaguely sad. Numb. Crying did that to him. It created a
barrier between himself and his pain. Too bad the numbness always faded and the
suffering was waiting when it did. Harry hated that. He would rather flee.
Would have done that, made his escape, just few short months ago. Now he chose
not to run.
He chose to answer the call.
Harry wiped his stinging eyes with the back of one hand. They were both
irritated and still wet with tears stuck to his long, long lashes. He would go,
because he had no other choice but to face this. Because, he didn't care if
Lucius saw him like this. It was over. He had loved and been used. It was his
own fault for believing, for trusting, for not listening. Graeme had been
right. Who would have thought that Graeme was the one who was being truthful?
And, Harry had refused to listen to him.
 
Lucius was the one who first noticed Harry was in the doorway. He stood and
gestured the youth inside. Harry looked at him with a face blanked of
expression, a face that came from the deepest pain and grief, drenched in
tears, and left to dry. Tight, stretched, and stiff. Lucius frowned when he saw
it. He still had no idea of what he'd done to cause the boy such pain as this.
Draco said it was his treatment of the boy. Lucius couldn't imagine that.
Draco leaped to his feet and rushed over to Harry. Enfolding him in his arms.
Harry looked over the older boy's shoulder, straight into the eyes of the pride
king. He rested his chin on Draco's chest, pushing his face into the firm
flesh, so only his eyes showed over Draco's shoulder, the lower half of his
face hidden. Graeme was next to the desk, his face was curious, more inquiring
and less angry than Harry had ever seen it when the older were-leopard looked
at him.
"I can't do this." Harry said, flatly, his voice muffled in the shirt he was
only just managing not to bite into. "I want to go."
"Go? Go where?" Lucius asked him, sitting once more in the chair behind the
desk. Draco led Harry to the couch and sat him there. Tried to take care of
him. Harry was distant, the touches were not able to reach him, they were like
something happening to someone else.
"Away from here. I don't want to be here." Harry said. His eyes would not
release the silver gaze of the man who sat at the desk. He registered it when
Graeme moved, but couldn't muster the will to look that direction.
"Why?" Lucius asked, his voice was soft, velvet. His grey eyes weren't icy,
weren't cold. They watched, with gentleness, the youth he was speaking to. His
Chosen. Harry managed a slight shrug, tried to look away, failed. He couldn't
fall into that pit, please, not now.
"I am a laughing stock now. I let myself be used, fucked in public in front of
anyone who wanted to look. Now, I have served my purpose, and it is over. You
have Troy to take my place. Like I took Fred's. God, I didn't realize what I
did to him. I hope he will forgive me someday." Harry's voice was still bland,
forced out through his constricted throat, strangely sounding just about
normal, but Lucius knew he meant the words.
"Fred is well. He has not been hurt, or harmed by you in any way. His place has
not changed. He is still my Marked and my Claimed. Troy has the place he is
meant to have, I have Marked him. You have your place. You are my Chosen. The
pride is your family. You will remain here, where you will be safe and we can
care for you. You have done nothing shameful. We are not humans to hide our
passions in locked rooms."
"I am not safe here. I can't live the way you do. I don't want to. I *want* to
hide my passion in a locked room. I don't want to see it in front of me, when
you take your lovers, how ever many there are. I don't want there to be
others." Harry sighed, Draco squeezed his arm, glared at his father. "I only
wanted one. I only wanted you. One lover, who was mine, who I didn't have to
share, not like that. Be the king of the pride, take care of them, but be *my*
lover, faithful, mine. That was all I wanted. I thought I had it. Now I know
better."
The silence grew as Lucius considered his words. Lucius spoke, low and gentle
to Harry, who was curled miserably on the cushions.
"Come. Sit with me, Chosen. Listen. Graeme and Draco are about to tell me what
I should do with you. Both believe that I have failed you, that I have done you
disservice. Though each believes it is a different one." Lucius stood and
walked over to the couch, taking the cushion next to Harry.
Harry flinched. Lucius ignored the flinch. He pulled Harry into his arms,
guiding him to lay his head on the king's chest, tilting his head back so they
looked into each other's eyes. Harry couldn't breathe. His fingers slipped and
fumbled for a hold, Twisted in the long, silken pale hair, clutched the thick
biceps. The big hands smoothed his hair. Harry wished he could pull away. But
the touch...he needed it. The touch of the one who hurt him. He needed it. He
clung to the man, no longer so resolute.
The hands were everything. They took his strength, they took his ability to
deny how much he craved them. Merlin, he was weak, so spineless. He turned his
face into the cradling embrace, fought the losing battle with his dignity and
began to cry.
***** Chapter 37 *****
Chapter 37
 
Lucius held him. Long fingers carefully stroking his cheek, temple to chin,
thumb following the contours of his lips. Looking deep into his eyes as he
cupped his face. Eyes that brimmed with tears. Lucius licked the salty, bitter
tears off his fingertips. Lifted his Chosen higher, closer and kissed his wet
cheek.
The kisses were not kisses of passion. The kisses were kisses of love. Harry
knew it. He felt it. He didn't question it. But, then why had Lucius gone to
another? Not hiding it, but out in the open, where all the pride might see his
infidelity. He hadn't sneaked. He'd done it as if it didn't matter that he had.
Where Harry could witness it. Where it could cut his heart out.
Harry clung to the king. He sobbed. This was not fair. No matter how strong he
was, he was not stronger than his heart's need for love. Under Lucius' touch he
was helpless. His body screamed for Lucius. His body was willing to endure all
to keep him. His heart crumbled.
"Harry." A whisper, soft and tender sound, then lips ghosted over his face. To
his own mouth, all twisted with pain. Kissed him.
"Please let me go." He begged, while clinging harder, ensuring that Lucius
could not set him free. "Why am I not enough?"
"You are enough, Harry." Lucius told him. Not loosening the hold he had. "You
are loved and wanted and needed here."
"But, why do you want them? If I am enough?" Harry demanded. Anguished. "If I
am enough, then get rid of them!"
"I am king. They are mine, to love and care for. As I love and care for my son,
you, Graeme, Amrys, the unborn heir. Each of you. Some I take to my furs,
others I do not. My life belongs to the pride. And the pride gives me what I
need." Lucius said after a minute. He tightened his hold around the shaking
boy.
"Be their king. But be my lover. Please." Harry pleaded. "Why are you casting
me aside? I gave you everything. I let you..." He couldn't say it. Not out
loud. Not now. But he thought it,...Lucius, he was my first. I did for him what
I never even thought of doing for another man.
"I am your lover." Lucius' rich voice offered him soothing words. "You have my
heart."
"I saw you! I saw you with Troy! How can you be my lover and make love to him?"
Harry groaned.
"He is one of my kittens. He is mine to take and to care for. He is mine to
take pleasure with. He is not my lover. You, I have taken to my bed. Haven't
you heard? I have accepted you where none of my ancestors have taken their
kittens or their lovers. I am the only one in our history who has taken a
kitten and allowed that kitten to tell all who will listen that I am his
lover."
"I saw you." Harry cried out. He pounded at Lucius' chest. "I saw. I saw!"
"Have you heard nothing I said?" Lucius asked sadly. He smoothed the damp
tendrils of dark hair back off Harry's face.
"They are words, just..." Harry insisted. Lucius put a finger over his mouth
stopping the flow of accusations.
"Stop. Foolish boy. Do you think I say these same words to every one? Do I call
everyone my lover? Who else have I brought to my bed? How often have I cast you
out so I can bring others into my furs? Never have I done that to you." Lucius
said with a growl.
"I don't want to share my lover! If I can't be the only one, then let me go!"
Lucius drew back. Harry dug his fingers into the big man's arms, holding with
desperate strength. Preventing Lucius from getting free of him. The man made no
real effort. He sat, calmly, sadly. Looking down at the wretched youth in his
arms. Wondering how things had come to this.
The silence stretched.
"He has told you, you are first. And all you can ask is why you are not the
only." Graeme was the one who broke the silence. "You take the honor he has
given you and throw it back in his face. We are not humans! Our king is not
some Muggle to be coerced with sex and threats into denying his needs, denying
the pride and the needs of the pride. Yet, you ask it of him as if it is
nothing. You ask him to become human, to abandon our laws, our way of life."
Graeme slowed, shook his head, took a steadying breath. Then started up again.
He fixed Harry with his large, dark, expressive eyes. Lucius' palm cradled
Harry's cheek.
"You disagree. Therefore our laws are worthless. We should discard them. You
came to us. You were changed. You belong to the pride. *We* do not belong to
the world you left when you came here. There are traditions passed down, ways
of doing things among us. I tried to tell you. I tried to show you your place.
I tried to take care of a kitten who was wandering lost. Who refused direction.
And you did not listen. You defied me. The pride's third. Defied by a mere
kitten."
Graeme sneered, stopped, gathered himself, before resuming. His face blazed.
"My king asked me to think long on the words I would say. He told me not to
speak with rash anger. He told me to speak wise counsel, not heated words. He
reminded me that you are mine to care for, that you are mine to love as a
member of my pride. Your well-being is my responsibility. It is my place to
encourage you, teach you, as well as punish you. I can not do just one of those
things, if I do only one, then I have failed you, I have failed the entire
pride."
"So, listen to what I have to say to you. Know I have considered these words,
and that they are from my heart to you." The tall, elegant were-leopard said as
he came to stand in front of the kitten held in his king's arms....
***** Chapter 38 *****
Chapter 38
 
"I see his love for you." Graeme began, tenor voice clipped, sharp enough to
wound. He drew himself up, tall and proud, looking down on Harry with a gaze so
intense it was nearly a threat. Harry fought the impulse to shrink back, to try
to hide deeper in Lucius' embrace. He also felt the defensive instinct rising,
the compulsion to strike out, to defend himself. He felt his magic drawing up.
"You don't...." Harry began, seething, his teeth clenched. Lucius slid his hand
over Harry's forehead, up into his hair. Brushed his cheek over the boy's. He
spoke to him.
"Listen. Hear the words as well as their tone. Do not let the tone make you
strike out." The king murmured softly, his breath eddying over Harry's cheek.
Harry swallowed. His throat suddenly burning and tight. Robbing him of his
rage, of the drive to strike out, left him with only his fear and his hurt. He
was, once more, on the verge of tears. Lucius rocked him. Graeme raised his
chin, his full lips pressed thin.
"I know my king loves hard. He does not change his feelings like some with the
changes of the seasons. His love is enduring. I fear for him, loving you. I
fear you will destroy him, destroy what he is. He is a great king. He is what
the pride needs. He upholds our ways, he gives each of us strength and good
counsel. His spirit sustains us through darkness and times of trouble."
Graeme paused looking over at Lucius. They shared a charged glance, telling.
The air seemed to still with the power of both their magics. Graeme squared his
shoulders as if preparing himself for a difficult task. He took in a full
breath and turned to begin pacing over the stone floor.
"We have failed you in some things, Potter. You don't know about pride
structure and how we do things, or even why. We never taught you. Your change
was not a planned change. No one went to you and told you what to expect. No
one mentored you. Blaise looked out for you for a time, but you left him
behind. No one took action to fix that. There is a reason for kittens staying
close. The kittens are there for each other, for friendship and because it is
necessary. They answer questions, tend to each other." Graeme shook his head.
Pacing along the center of the room, warming to his speech. His wide shoulders
bunched. He whirled around staring at Harry.
"You though, you were different. In how you became one of us. In who you were
before you came to us. Draco has impressed upon us that this is of great
importance. That you are not indulging in adolescent grandeur, that you truly
are different. I don't know how much truth is in his assessment. But, I have
heard his words and I do not dismiss them." Graeme said. He was in front of
Harry and Lucius. Examining Harry's face as if looking for the difference Draco
said was there.
"Our king met you before the rest of us took you in. He touched you, he held
you. Taking the role your fellow kittens should have had. His two choices that
day were to take you in, or to kill you." Graeme seemed to hesitate, as if
deciding whether or not to say a certain something. He finally quirked his lip
and plunged on, and Harry felt he'd skipped a part of what he'd meant to say.
Graeme held out one long, muscular arm, waving it, as if washing something
away.
"Somehow he bonded to you. In moments. Not in the slowness of time, where such
bonding can be guided and nurtured. He took you and Marked you. Too fast. You
didn't understand what it meant to be his Marked. Then, before that settled on
you, you were his Claimed. No one else could lay with you and teach you how the
pride shares sex. Because he made you his so quickly. It was not a wise thing
to do. A kitten should never have only one lover." Dark blue eyes met pale
grey, held. Lucius raised no objection to the statement.
Harry scowled. It wasn't as if he'd wanted to be changed, or wanted to be taken
that first time. He had not. The choice was taken from him. Now Graeme was
outlining his own grievances, almost in the same words he'd have used. Making
Harry feel it was his fault.
"I would have taken you, kitten. Others of the pride. Showed you, as we showed
Ron and the other kittens. There should have been many of us to show you the
way...lovingly, gradually. To show you that we are not like the repressive
humans you are used to living among. That we cared for you, unlike the humans."
Now Harry felt their feelings on this diverged. He snuggled harder into the
arms that held him, drawing in a shaking breath, burrowing his face into the
fresh scented, silky skin. Lucius stroked his hair. Harry wasn't greedy, he
wanted one lover. Not a dozen. But, Graeme went on, voice more introspective.
"Then, almost at once, he called you Chosen. His first Chosen during his rule.
And you had no idea what it meant to be Chosen. You had no idea of the power he
gave you, power within the pride, power over himself. You are his choice. His
help, his heart's safety. You can reach him when others aren't permitted close.
There is a reason why kittens are not usually called Chosen. It is no easy
position to hold." The older were-leopard was momentarily silent. Draco made a
sound of protest, as if to say something in rebuttal, but Graeme looked at him
and he went still.
"There is great responsibility held by the Chosen, it is not a position for a
child, no matter how extraordinary." Graeme conceded that point, that Harry was
different, to Draco, seeing how the youth was impatient to make understood. "I
am not surprised you don't realize just what place you hold. I am both angry
and alarmed that it is forced on you. The connection is not always voluntary.
It can be forged in an instant and even a strong man can not resist it. Once
done, it is hard to undo. I fear what you will do to him. I fear that when he
reaches out, and needs you, you will punish him for an imagined slight and deny
him. And in so doing make the entire pride pay. I think you are not ready for
what he gives you."
Harry turned away from the intense gaze, his face was flushed. It was as if
Graeme was asking him if he was responsible and mature enough to accept the
truth of what he was saying. Harry knew that he was angry, that he wanted to
lash out and make demands. He wanted to fight for his right not to be used, not
to be hurt. Graeme was telling him, if he understood it correctly, that this
was not about him. That his own needs and desires were not in consideration,
that they were the smallest part of any of it. That the position Harry thought
he had, as Lucius' lover was far more.
Once again, Harry's life couldn't be easy, couldn't be simple. He fought with
the urge to sulk, to cry out his wants and insist on them being met, or
threatening to run. Why shouldn't he ask for his need to come first, just this
one time, in this one thing? He battled not to fall back into his tried and
true patterns, the ones that had worked before. There had been too much change.
It hurt. where was his security? The benefit to him? Why did he have to give up
what he needed, again? It wasn't too much to ask for. A lover who was faithful.
Draco couldn't stand it for another moment. He stood and walked over to Graeme.
"You have been pride for a long time. You were raised by parents who were of
the pride. It is what you know. Harry, until he was brought here, had no idea
we even existed. It is as hard for him to understand you as it is for you to
understand him."
Harry had also sat up. "I never asked to be a silly lycanthrope!" He snapped.
"This is what I mean." Graeme said. "You are not ready to be the Chosen. What
is done is done. You are one of us. That can't be changed. So, to bring it up
is pointless."
Harry growled, surging to his feet. "It damn well is not pointless!" He
shouted, his voice choked, tears streaming down his face. "I am so tired of
people telling me "that's the way it is". I won't accept that any more!"
Graeme lowered his head, shaking it. He sighed. Looked over at Lucius who was
sitting very still, looking at his right hand, held tightly by his Chosen.
Harry didn't even seem aware that they were still holding hands as he stood
next to the couch bristling with his rage. Confronting the pride's third.
***** Chapter 39 *****
Chapter 39
 
Graeme was on Harry, one instant standing a dozen feet away, the next his hand
was hard around Harry's throat. Lifting him and tossing him back on top of
Lucius and the couch, as if he was a leaf floating to the ground. Lucius caught
him, cradling him into a safe landing.
Draco let out a cry of distress, starting forward. Graeme turned on him,
holding up one finger tipped by a threatening claw. Draco took a step back and
unwillingly went to the floor, crouching there. Graeme glaring hard, warningly,
then turning and stalking towards the flabbergasted Harry, who lay stunned, his
chest heaving. Lucius held him again, arms winding around him, warm beneath
him, steadying hands. Safe.
"You are kitten." Graeme said as he leaned down, hissing softly. Harry felt his
body turn to jelly at the hiss, his heart thumping painfully hard. He expected
to feel fear and it was there, far in the background, but he was overcome far
more strongly by something quite different.
It started the instant Graeme's hand fastened on his throat. It grew when the
man threw him and now as he is leaning over him, the lassitude spread, Harry
wanted to have Graeme looming over him. Just like he was. Harry wanted to
surrender. To refuse to fight. To submit to another's will. Harry was left
gasping, unable to defend himself. His body would't obey the urgent pleas to
fight back. His body wanted something completely different.
"Do not seek to insult me. Do not seek to defy me." Graeme padded closer,
throwing a leg over the sprawled youth, bearing him into the cushions and down
on top of Lucius. The hard, round globes of his butt pressing down on Harry's
thighs. Harry stayed unmoving, letting out a mewl. Lucius let out a growl and
Harry echoed it, only coming from him the sound is more plaintive, a begging,
hopeful sound. Graeme smiles when the sound reached his ear. His hand floating
over Harry, exploring, searching, claiming him in a way.
"You rail at me, that I am in error. Let me enlighten you. Listen to what your
body is telling you." The voice he uses next is soft and whispery, Graeme's
hand has ceases its wandering, fastened onto Harry's chin, squeezing just a
bit.
"You are kitten. I am third. I have been where you are now. You have not been
where I am. I too, had to learn to obey. Now it is what you must learn." His
face grows closer and closer, his magnificent eyes locked on to Harry's. His
lips peeled back, revealing full fangs. Harry let out a squeak. His bones
turning to water. Lucius' touch runs soothingly up his sides.
"You cannot walk before you crawl, kitten. And no one has taught you to crawl.
I will teach you to crawl, to walk, then to run." Harry tried to lean away, but
his body wouldn't obey him. His muscles were lax, he felt Lucius shift
underneath him to better support his and Graeme's weight.
And that small motion was incredible. Now all Harry's focus was on being
between the men. His beloved behind him. Graeme in front. Hard and loving
behind. Hard and controlling, demanding in front. Lucius' grip is careful,
tender, still protective, but not stopping Graeme or hindering him. Harry wants
to be held, just like this. He starts straining, wanting more contact. Graeme
growls deep and rumbling in his broad chest. Harry melts. Oh God. Graeme is
leaning in. He can't....
Lucius' hand leaves Harry's waist, moving up and onto Graeme's arm, lean
fingers wrapping snug around the wrist of the third, not tight, not inhibiting.
Just there. Holding Graeme while Graeme holds Harry's face. Graeme's eyes
flicker with flashes of dark light. He lifts his face, gazing over the young-
ling's shoulder up into his king's eyes.
Harry watches as Graeme's lips part, as he senses the were-leopard's breath
coming faster, deeper, harder. As the big man rises, moving up, towards Lucius,
body so close to Harry's that they brushed the whole way up, silky soft skin of
bare abdomen and chest all over his own torso. The hand holding his chin shifts
position, fingers sinking into his messy, raven hair, nails running sharp and
intense, over his scalp, tightening every nerve in his body, raising gooseflesh
from head to toe.
Harry's moan momentarily stops Graeme's upward motion. The older leopard looks
down, re-focusing on the young man's face, the dilated pupils, the flushed
cheeks. Graeme pauses, a hungry look filling his eyes. Harry mewls again.
Begging. Even he has to admit that was what the sound was about. Need. Urgent.
Asking. Begging.
Harry, confused and panting. What is he doing? He doesn't understand.
"You are asking for favor from a more dominant leopard." Lucius says to him.
"It is instinct. You can not fight it. And you shouldn't. It is natural. Not
something to fear."
"I..." Harry began.
"No. Don't be afraid." Graeme whispered, laying heavy and warm on top of Harry,
his body a shield against harm. "This feeling, is what you are supposed to
have. We all have it at one time or other."
"He is right. Let it take you. Feel it. I am here. Graeme is here. You are
safe." Lucius told him.
Harry sighed. He felt....
Warm.
Safe.
Good.
"Harry?" Draco was next to the couch, kneeling down, slender fingers grasping
his shirt. "Harry? Are you all right?"
Harry lifted dazed eyes to his blond friend's face. To the troubled gaze, the
anxious expression. Harry considered the question for a moment. He discovered
the unexpected answer.
"Yes. I am alright." He said. "I'm good." And, strangely, it was true.
***** Chapter 40 *****
Chapter 40
 
"No." Harry said. He glared up at the tall night-watcher. Yaji returned the
scowl. "I know Graeme wants me to understand what the pride is like, but I
never agreed to this."
"This? What is this?" Yaji asked. His short brown hair was ruffled, curling
around his face and the nape of his neck. Dark eyes regarded the shorter young
man mildly. Harry could hardly credit this was the man he'd fought with during
his first change. There was no sign of anger. He was big and masculine and
handsome enough in a rough way. But Harry wasn't going to have sex with him. No
matter how much Graeme argued that he needed to.
"This...I won't have sex with you." Harry said firmly, waving his hand in the
air between them. Yaji's eyebrows rose sharply towards his hairline. "And if
you are going to make me pay for clawing you up, tell me now."
"You are the Chosen, of course we won't have sex. And I will not harm you for
fighting during your change." The big man was scandalized. "Why would you think
such a thing?"
"Uh." Now Harry flushed. OK. So it seemed he was jumping to conclusions. But he
wasn't naive enough to totally let his guard down. After all it was Yaji who
had just entered the room and announced Graeme had sent him to teach Harry. And
as far as Harry was concerned, whatever else Graeme was, he still was a sex
maniac. "So if it isn't sex...then what?"
"I am here to accustom you to being touched." Yaji replied, as if that
statement was perfectly natural. Harry was still wary. Not at all sure he
wanted to be touched. He didn't know much about Yaji, aside from the fact Draco
was close to the man.
"Touched? How touched?" Because there were a lot of ways to touch and not all
of them were OK with Harry. Some of them were definitely not going to happen.
"I am to hold you." Yaji looked impatient, staring down at the much slighter
young man.
"Why?" Harry challenged the man. Who looked down on him as if he was utterly
mad. Of course, because the third had sent him to do it. Harry scowled and
relented. "Oh all right. *If* you answer my questions I will sit with you.
Deal? And no touching down here. No grabbing or fondling. My butt or...." Harry
gestured vaguely at his crotch.
"Deal. I would never presume without the permission of the king." Harry might
have been mistaken, but he thought the corner of the man's mouth twitched. And
the guardian were-leopard picked him up, startling him. Harry let out a squeak
of protest as he was settled on the man's lap, as Yaji seated himself on the
pile of furs.
"Hey!" Harry had thought he'd sit *next* to the man, at least that was his
plan. Maybe put up with an arm around his shoulders. Not, apparently, the man's
plan. Yaji held him comfortably. Nothing sexual in the embrace, thank Merlin.
It wasn't all that bad. Grumpily, Harry decided he should just tough it out. He
let out a cautious breath.
"Alright. You are holding me. I get to ask my questions. Now, tell me about the
Rule Room." Quiz and answer would keep his mind off the touching. How the thick
thighs felt under his bottom. The warm male scent, a bit spicy. Pleasant
really.
"The Rule Room? What is that?" Yaji asked, running a hand up and down Harry's
arm. Harry jumped but put up with it. Biting his lip. He sincerely wanted to
know about the room and he had other inquires he'd enjoy having answered.
"You know, the stone room, the one with the rules...the laws on the walls. On
the first floor. Towards the west wing." Harry clarified, watching the
expressive face show in succession, confusion, surprise, then acute interest.
"The Temple? How do you know of the Temple?" Yaji asked.
"I found it." Harry had no hesitation lying to protect Draco.
"But...only the Seers and the ruling three can enter the Temple. Its magic
protects it from invasion." Yaji said. His hands, after stopping for a minute,
were back to petting, stroking up and down Harry's back. One hand massaged his
calf and that was very, very good. Harry spread his toes, wriggling them. Uhm.
'Lip biting to stop a moan', kind of good.
"I...I just walked in." Harry left out the fact that Draco had gone in with
him. If he was going to get in trouble for it, so be it, but he wasn't going to
drag Draco along. "I didn't have any problems getting in."
Yaji's arm was supporting his back, he felt the flex of thick muscle. So, this
touching thing wasn't too bad. It was sort of nice.
"We will not speak of the Temple. If you need answers about the temple, Kaithas
may help you. Do you have other questions?" Yaji was firm, unyielding in his
refusal to talk about the Temple. Harry considered his options and decided to
move on.
"Hmmm. Fine." Harry growled under his breath. Then raised his voice. "Tell me
about Lucius."
"Our king?"
"Yes."
"What would you like to know?"
"How long has he been king?"
"For ten years prior to Draco's birth. He was wed to Narcissa, but it took many
years before Draco was conceived and born. She could not carry the first four
children to term. Her family is resistant to lycanthropy. Her body rejected the
children who would have been capable of becoming lycanthropes if they had been
born. The king was greatly saddened when he found out the reason for the loss
of his children years later."
"Wow. Poor Lucius. And poor Narcissa." Harry could only imagine what it would
be like to have life growing inside of you, then lose it. Four times.
Heartbreaking.
Yaji's lip curled in a snarl. "She brought the pain on herself, with her
deception. And on the king."
"God. I hope Draco doesn't have any problems." Harry felt the man holding him
stiffen. It would be bad to think of Draco going through what his mother had.
"Kaithas believes all will be well. He has consulted the wizard of Potions at
the School. Doctor Snape." Yaji stated firmly.
"Professor Snape? He knows Draco is pregnant?" It made sense. Snape was close
to the Malfoy family. Draco needed potions to aid his pregnancy. As
uncomfortable as the Potions Master made him, Harry acknowledged the man's
consummate skill.
"Yes. He has visited the Manor often."
"Draco is fine." Harry stated, because he couldn't ask the question and risk
being told something different. "And when the heir is born he will be the
Mother. And Amrys the Sire."
"That is correct."
"Will they marry?" Harry prompted. "Is it usual for the sire to marry the
Mother?" He knew Andromeda hadn't. But she was way abnormal in Harry's mind. He
didn't use her to measure any normal behavior in the pride.
"The Mother and the Sire? No. It is not necessary. Amrys would if it was
required. But, Draco I think, would decline." The guardian said, with a tone of
confidence.
"I think you are right." Harry said. And he remembered all the things he heard
about this large guardian and Mantheer protecting Draco. The feelings they had
for each other were deep. Abiding. Perhaps they loved Draco? Romantically? A
thought to keep in mind.
"Would Draco marry you?" Harry asked bluntly.
He liked the scent of this man. He could see Draco falling for him, if Draco
got tired of girls. He smelled warm and good and more than a little sexy.
'Harry', he thought to himself, 'you are turning into a real slut.'
***** Chapter 41 *****
Chapter 41
 
Sybil picked up the frail luminescent vial and rolled it in her hands, warming
the thick liquid inside. It was the blood concentrate she had made from the
blood soaked towel. It was strong, enhanced with all the magic she could
generate and only a few drops would yield enough for her polyjuice potion.
She turned to eye the sleeping woman stretched out on her bed. Long and round
limbed, sensuously feminine and exuding a strong sexual allure, something
Sybil, while not being precisely unattractive, had never had. Blatant sex
appeal. Adding this woman's blood to the potion was a good idea. One of her
best lately. She allowed herself a hideous smile. Fondling the vial as she
contemplated the next part of her new plan.
The blood from the woman, Andromeda, would serve to further concentrate the
potion and there would be enough to change the two of them. Sybil would have a
companion in her search for more prey. And for Draco. That sniveling brat had
been the reason her initial plans had failed so badly. He had to pay for that.
Andromeda, being of the Malfoy family, could give her access Sybil herself
didn't have a hope of getting. She smiled again. This would work out for the
better, perhaps.
Trelawny patiently titrated a fraction of the concentrate into her gently
bubbling cauldron. She stirred the mixture mentally counting the the time off,
careful to keep the motions smooth and even, at the proper speed, so as not to
froth the mixture. She had done this so many times, it had become almost second
nature to her, she knew the instant it was time to add Andromeda's
contribution.
Drop by drop she added the fresh blood. Inhaling the resulting potion after
each minute addition, until it brimmed with the scent of perfection. The potion
was perfect, yes, and exquisite, the scent without flaw, she sniffed, grinned.
The curl of steam rising from the finished brew was heady. Sybil inhaled it
deep into her lungs as she dipped into the mass in the bottom of the cauldron
and divided it into two portions. She drank her own as she walked from the
cauldron to Andromeda. A hard swallow and it was down, working it's anticipated
magic.
A quick incantation and Andromeda was awake and compelled to drink from the
glass Sybil held, two quick gulps for her, one gagging moment, then it was
down, with Andromeda collapsed back onto the bed, retching. A moment later she
started to convulse as Professor Trelawny, in the midst of her own
transformation, watched with satisfaction. What a truly fantastic physique,
larger than before, sleeker, more agile. Ah, it was perfect, so perfect.
 
The kittens were outdoors, all in were-leopard form, cavorting in the tall
grass, chasing each other and taking advantage of a chance to run full out.
Harry, at first embarrassed by the idea of running around and playing like a
little kid, was completely drawn into the games after a few minutes.
Between the kittens and the woods Yaji, Mantheer and other guardians roamed to
prevent any secret approach or attack on the kittens.
Dumbledore had reluctantly sent word of another attack on the campus of
Hogwarts. Fatal, as were all except the one on Harry. The Ministry of Magic
sent aurors to watch the grounds, but came up with nothing substantial so far.
Their presence at least seemed to have stopped any further attacks. The one bit
of news sent was one Lucius had puzzled out for himself long ago. The creature
was not natural, it was an abomination of dark magic.
There were no sightings of the attacker, no witnesses, the locale of the crime
itself was so torn up that there was little information to be gleaned from it.
Dumbledore himself had gone to the area and scanned it magically, without
result. They had no way of tracking it. The frenzy was even more brutal and
catastrophic than it had been before. The victim had to be identified by means
of magic, because a visual determination had been impossible.
Lucius had made it clear none of the kittens were returning to Hogwarts at this
time. Grumbling, Dumbledore had at last agreed that the precautions were wise
and that they were apparently still necessary.
So, none of the kittens were allowed outside without escort. All pride members
were told to travel in pairs or better yet in groups until the assailant was
found.
The kittens had for the most part behaved well, now they were outside to work
off some of the energy that had been bottled up by their forced enclosure in
the Manor. Lucius had finally agreed to the furlough when he'd come across the
kittens holding races in the basement halls. They'd run into him, tumbling with
him to the ground and rolling in a heap down the hall.
The kittens involved, Troy, Fred and George Weasley had been mortified over
having knocked their alpha on his butt, but Lucius had just laughed and told
them he'd send them outside with the guardians before they broke his, or
someone else's neck.
Now they were playing, even Harry. Lucius, looking down from his window saw the
twitching behind of his chosen, topped by a long tail fairly quivering with
delight, as he dashed around in circles. A remarkably tantalizing sight. He
contemplated the joy of putting his hands on those delectable flanks later.
Lucius thought that he himself could use a good run. He was debating the
advisability of it when he saw a flash of light in the middle of the group of
kittens, an instant before he felt the apparating spell. It was not possible!
The wards should have prevented every one from entering or exiting without
permission.
"Oh, shit. God cursed, shit." He growled out, rage filling him, gaining his
feet and thrusting the window open. He leaped out of the third floor window,
changing in midair and hit the ground running flat out.
Two beasts were in the midst of his kittens, reaching out with clawed hands.
The kittens scattered taking off for the house and away from the horrors
grabbing for them. All except Draco who was human and could not change, he
wasn't fast enough and the monsters were closing on him.
Then Harry turned and looked back, saw Draco and the guardians making for his
friend, They were too far away. He was not. Harry whirled and rushed back to
Draco's defense. His move alerted the other kittens, had them all turning as
one and following. Lucius didn't know whether to applaud their bravery, or
scream at them for being foolhardy. He lowered his head and put on an extra
burst of speed.
Lucius heard the thud as Potter landed on the back of one of the monsters,
unbalancing it enough to stop the swat aimed at Draco. The massive clawed paw
on Draco flashed up and over head, drawing back for a probably fatal blow. Less
than a second later there were two more thuds as Yaji and Mantheer arrived,
snarling and fighting ferociously. The other guardians were heading the
remaining kittens off, herding them away from the fracas as Lucius hit the
growling snarling group around his son.
Draco was on the ground, face up, scrambling to put distance between himself
and the slashing claws trying to hold onto him. Lucius had the impression of
mismatched features, long silvery blond hair, the exact color of his own,...or
that of his sister. And magnificent breasts that he'd only seen on one woman
before, now they graced both monsters. In a flash he knew one of these deformed
creatures was his sister. Horribly changed, but it was Andromeda. Only...both
creatures looked exactly the same, smelled horribly the same, long, shiny hair
flying around their naked bodies, the stench rising like a choking miasma, as
he tore into them, blood and flesh flying in hard, little greasy gobbets.
Mantheer and Yaji were like men possessed, battling the hulking creatures,
taller even than the towering Mantheer, tearing out great chunks. Lucius heard
the long, howling cry of his second just before Amrys smashed into the group.
One of the creatures gasped, letting out a garbled snarl and once more light
flashed and the two monsters were gone. Leaving behind their stink and bloody
bits littering the trampled grasses.
Draco was curled on the ground, gashes sliced through his clothing and into his
flesh, Mantheer and Yaji crouched threateningly over him, growling. Baring
teeth at anyone who moved.
Lucius transformed to human and strode to them. He went to his knees turning
Draco gently to examine him. His thighs were clawed deeply. His chest less so,
it was apparent from the injuries the attack had been directed at his belly,
which he'd managed to protect. At his belly, and perhaps, probably at the
unborn heir. Lucius was positive now, that one of the beasts had to be
Andromeda, the attack on Draco and the child he was carrying was proof.
Gently, Mantheer lifted Draco, the boy moaned in pain. He had to be seen to
quickly, the bleeding stopped, the Potions Master, Snape sent for to check on
the wellbeing of the heir.
Lucius grabbed Harry by the scruff, swung him up in his arms. Enough time later
to impress upon him the wonderful foolishness of his heroic act, which had
likely saved Draco's life.
***** Chapter 42 *****
Chapter 42
 
Mantheer carried Draco into the bathing pool, soaking his clothing, ignoring
the others milling around him. He had eyes only for the moaning young man he
held so carefully. Yaji splashed in with him, anxiously supporting them both.
They began tenderly trying to assess the injuries Draco had received. His face
was paler even than usual and he was biting his lip with pain. Harry made a
sound as he watched, he strained to go after Draco, but Lucius held him back.
"They will care for him, Harry. Let them do their work. They already suffer for
not being able to protect him. They need to care for him, to reconnect." Lucius
murmured. His mind was distracted, continuing to fume over how Andromeda and
whoever she was with managed to get into the grounds, and to attack Draco. As
part of the family of Malfoy, Andromeda was nearly impossible to keep out with
the Manor's wards. But, something had to be arranged. Or the monster would have
free rein out on the grounds and someone undeserving would die.
Lucius and Harry both turned as Kaithas burst into the room, joining the group
of concerned lycanthropes filling the room. Lucius hugged the trembling form of
his Chosen to him. Harry had saved Draco worse injury, but Draco would be a
long time healing. He was not lycanthrope and he was unable to use the change
to heal himself.
Lucius saw Tanith enter the room slowly her great, worried eyes roaming until
she found Draco. When his son had been a child, there had been none closer to
him that the female Seer. She had been a second mother to the boy. Then with
the fiasco of his inability to turn, they had drifted apart. Things had begun
to swing back to a growing closeness with the pending delivery of the heir.
Tanith had accepted the news of Draco's pregnancy with surprise and then true
satisfaction. She was still cautious, the male pride members lacked the ability
of wizards to carry children within their own bodies. Even wizards had no easy
time of it. She had spent a long evening at Hogwarts accompanying Kaithas,
while both Seers consulted with the Potions master, Severus Snape. He had given
her increasing confidence, but she still waited. She waited to be sure the
child would be delivered alive before she celebrated too openly. She waited to
discover if the child would be able to turn into lycanthrope. When that came to
pass, she would roar her glee to the skies.
Kaithas immediately hustled most of the worried men and women out, offering
comforting words and assurances he didn't fully believe yet, then stripped to
join Mantheer, Draco and Yaji in the water. He forced himself to move calmly, a
thing made all the more difficult by the blood floating like a cloud in the
heated water and the sharp noxious scent in the air. Mantheer looked at him
with eyes haunted and full of pain, pain as deep as that which Draco felt. Yaji
only continued in his ministrations, ignoring the Seer.
The two guardians were very gently peeling the wet, soiled clothing off Draco,
the water preventing the blood from sticking to the wounds, and also washing
away the foulness of the creatures that had wounded him. Draco lay back and let
them, though he did let out a barely audible whimper when Yaji cleaned one of
the worst wounds on his leg.
Kaithas saw quickly that no wounds were on the youth's abdomen and he whispered
a prayer of thanks. The child had a chance. He laid his hands on Draco and
began to scan him seeking knowledge of how seriously he was hurt and what could
be done to heal him.
A pop sounded, the sound of someone apparating into the room. Every head
snapped around and Amrys flew towards the materializing figure, morphing as he
went into full fighting leopard form. Lucius was on his heels, thrusting Harry
into Tanith's arms. Harry eluded the female Seer and sprang after his king and
the second, a shiny coated raven colored were-leopard, fur standing on end.
The apparating person was confronted with three furious were-leopards in full
attack mode. He was saved from serious harm only at the very last second when
Amrys and Lucius realized who it was, changing back to human form, Amrys
managed to catch Harry in mid-leap. Harry was snarling with fury and raking his
claws through the air, trying to get at the potential threat. Lucius whisked
the man behind him, protecting him from Harry, should the boy win free.
Charlie Weasley stood gaping, peering around Lucius Malfoy at the wildly
struggling kitten held in the second's tight grasp.
"Merlin!" He exclaimed. "What is going on here? I thought I was called home to
help, not to be shredded on sight!" The kitten, for all its relative youth, had
some long, and sharp claws. Very adult claws.
He frowned looking closer. "And just who is that? If I may be so bold as to
ask. I don't recognize him."
Lucius relaxed as Harry began to calm. He stepped forward, taking Harry into
his arms, letting Amrys lick at the shallow scratches on his own forearms.
Harry turned hard, fiery, green eyes towards the red haired figure. He growled,
but not threateningly, more in exasperation, in a greeting sort of, though an
irritated one. As if he was scolding Charlie, for not being more careful.
Charlie's gingery brows shot up his forehead. Not at all kittenish, this one!
"He's a bit full of himself now! Specially for a kitten! This part of the
reason you brought me home, my king?"
Lucius nuzzled the furry leopard in his arms. "Yes. Part of the reason. He is
calmed. Come, greet your king and his Chosen as is correct, Charlie Weasley."
"You have taken a Chosen!" Charlie exclaimed, stepping forward, offering his
neck to Lucius. Lucius set his gentle teeth at the bared throat, then when
Charlie made no resistance, he licked over the almost bite, soothing the
pinkened skin. Charlie startled when a second tongue lapped at his cheek
sloppily. It reminded him of....
"Harry Potter! Is that you?" Charlie asked with a delighted grin on his face.
The kitten mewled.
"He has some trouble occasionally turning back to human form." Lucius explained
as Charlie stroked the dark furred were-leopard and was rewarded with a
rumbling, ecstatic purr.
"Ah. He is beautiful." Charlie said, low, and sincere. The kitten hissed,
lazily, not really a warning sound. The red-haired man laughed. "Well you are!"
For the third time that day the sound of an apparating wizard disrupted the
pride. The tall, red haired form of Bill Weasley materialized with a snap. He
looked around the room, saw the anxious faces and the newly fighting kitten,
straining to get at him, claws fully extended, teeth bared. He took a hasty
step backwards, thanking the gods he hadn't materialized any closer. He
twitched the edge of his cloak out of the grabbing claws.
"Not the welcome I expected. I thought I was invited back! What's going on?"
Bill asked, eyes flicking from the struggling kitten to the commotion in the
bathing pool.
Before he could get an answer another pop sounded and Harry flailed madly,
hissing and snarling, as yet another firgure came into view. Tall and dark and
stern. Obsidian eyes looked the room over rapidly, assessingly, missing
nothing. Then headed toward the water.
"Mr Potter," Severus Snape snapped, disapprovingly as he passed. "Do control
yourself."
***** Chapter 43 *****
Chapter 43
 
Yaji lifted Draco onto the bed, settling him on top of the furs, wrapped head
to foot in thick, absorbent towels. He was only just keeping himself from
shaking as he cradled Draco. Mantheer was right behind him, circling around,
watching for any potential harm. He was well aware of the new threat posed by
Andromeda and the pride's inability to keep her from the Manor. It was hoped
that Bill could devise a specific ward to keep her away, as he was a well known
curse-breaker which was intricate work. Until then, Draco would have two, very
attentive body guards.
Mantheer let the tall, dark haired Potion's Master begin his examination, but
hovered near, almost on top of the other man, so close their clothing brushed.
The Wizard smelled of herbs, smoke and crushed insects. And a tiny bit of
something dark and sweet, maybe chocolate?
Snape peeled back the towels with care. After sending a quelling glare at the
brown haired, tanned, hulking man who snarled at him as he neared. Severus eyed
the wounds critically. Some were fairly deep, but all seemed clean now after
the prolonged soak in the bathing pool. The lycanthropes had been admirably
thorough in their attentions, he had to grudgingly admit. He'd rarely seen a
better job done by a medi-witch or wizard, most didn't have the patience for
it.
"Stand back, if you please. I can feel you breathing down my neck. *Literally*.
It is absolutely impossible to work with you hanging over me." The black eyes
glittered, showing no fear of the towering guardian were-leopard. Mantheer took
a step back, then solved his dilemma by walking around to the other side of the
bed and sitting next to Draco. From that vantage he could reach out and slap
the wizard out of range if he offered the slightest harm to Draco.
Every gasp of pain resulted in Mantheer's lips peeling back from his teeth,
showing elongating fangs. Draco reached out and fastened his hand around
Mantheer's thick wrist. Mantheer leaned down immediately, rubbing his cheek
over Draco's forehead and hair. He kept up a calming rumble, a deep purr,
occasionally lifting his head to show fangs in case the wizard might forget to
be careful with his very precious patient.
The young blond man reached out his other hand and tried to soothe Yaji. Yaji
kept up a low constant growl one that grew audibly louder when the boy was
hurt. Severus Snape rolled his eyes, pursed his lips tightly together and
studiously set about ignoring the two histrionic men. He turned and located
Lucius, who was standing close by.
"There is no problem with his pregnancy, Malfoy. I will distill a preparation
for pain and one to fight infection, both will be safe for the child. He should
rest in bed for one or two days, with supervision, you know how boys are when
you give them instructions. They disregard them if at all possible. Then, in
two days, he should be allowed up, also with supervision. Any signs of
infection, or weakened condition and I must be notified immediately. Now. Who
will be changing the dressings?"
Kaithas forestalled Yaji, who had opened his mouth to reply. "Show me Potion's
Master, I will instruct the others if necessary." He was well aware he was not
going to be able to pry the two big were-cats away from Draco's side.
Bill Weasley was standing next to his brother, Charlie and Lucius. Harry was
sitting on the floor, still in were-form. Lucius rested a big hand on his head,
slowly moving his fingers behind the large triangular ears. Harry stretched his
neck, tilting his head back and purring, pressing his head against Lucius'
side, his mouth open just enough to show his teeth and lolling tongue.
"I will get to work on a blocking spell, my king. The wounds while serious,
don't look as grievous as I thought at first. But, knowing the bitch, she will
be back for more." Bill said in an undertone. "She will not stop until she wins
what she believes in her due."
"She must be kept from the pride's home. Or we must pursue her away from here
and kill her. I have been too lenient for too long. I will not tolerate the
risk to the kittens if she can move in and out of the Manor without
restriction. She will not be permitted to kill members of the pride." Lucius
growled. His rage poured off of him. He blamed himself for not stopping his
sister's delusions years ago.
"How are Ron and the twins?" Charlie asked after the three men had stood in
silence for a time. He did want to know, but it was also to break the growing,
tense silence.
Harry lifted his head and rowled an inquiry. His whiskers bristled forward in
interest, his large, emerald green eyes shone with intelligence. Charlie
laughed and leaned over to pet the inquisitive kitten.
"Sorry, Harry. I can't understand you. Why don't you change back?" The freckled
man asked, scratching Harry under the chin. Harry's eyes closed in ecstasy. His
tail quivering in delight.
"He has a little trouble changing back to human form. The few times he's
changed to were form it has taken hours for him to return to human and usually
it is a bit at a time." Lucius said while watching the tableau on the bed.
Draco looked more comfortable as Snape helped him drink some brew from a small
cup in tiny sips. Yaji had lifted Draco in his arms again and was trying to
take the cup from the wizard, but Snape snarled just as fiercely as the were-
leopard and Yaji pulled his hand back.
Bill and Charlie both looked startled. Their attention was not on Yaji and
Snape. They were both staring down at Harry.
"He is able to maintain a partial form?" Bill asked, at last. His bright blue
eyes concerned.
"Yes. In fact he's stuck in it until he changes back bit by bit." Lucius
confirmed, shortly. He ruffled the dark fur under his hand, pulling Harry
tighter to him. The raven were-cat put a big paw over the man's foot, licked
his hand, wetly.
"You know the last one who was able to do that so young was...." Charlie added
in a rush, then stopped short of saying the name.
"Voldemort." Lucius said into the silence, deliberately keeping his voice low,
so only the four of them heard it. "I remember."
Bill and Charlie turned their attention on the purring, giant were-feline
sitting at their feet. Harry rubbed his cheek against Lucius' hip, and purred
even louder.
***** Chapter 44 *****
Chapter 44
 
Bill Weasley was going over the ancient wards of Malfoy Manor. The writing was
faded and the penmanship quite questionable in places, hardly more than random
scratches, but he had read worse. Far, far worse, truthfully.
The wards were set to keep strangers out, unless they had permission from the
head of the Household. Family, those with Malfoy blood, or those wed to
Malfoys, could apparate in and out at will. Or, naturally, members of the
pride.
Andromeda's aberrance and treasonous behavior, had not been anticipated by the
author of the wards. The binding oaths should have prevented it. But, the
sister of the king was insane. It was up to Bill to fix the loophole.
Therein lay the problem. Somehow, Bill needed to change the archaic spells to
prevent Andromeda from apparating into the Manor or it's surrounding grounds.
Despite her Malfoy blood. The trouble with altering spells this old was...you
never were certain just what method had been used to set them in the first
place. And disassembling them incorrectly would result in a collapse of all the
wards. And no protection at all. It was complex and dangerous, risky. Probably
it shouldn't even be attempted.
Very deliberately Bill began diagramming the wards on a piece of parchment. The
tiny lines grew from just a few, to dozens, then half a hundred and he kept
inscribing the fine squiggles. The connections became ever more complex. He
joined the sixth ward with the tenth and sat for a moment admiring the spell.
The wizard who had written the spell had been a genius. It was elaborate, yet
stunningly simple in it's construction. As the last lines fell into place, Bill
was seized by an even greater admiration. The wizard had been a master of his
craft, worthy of being called an artist. It was flawless, incredibly, visually
captivating. A mesmer. A puzzle designed to trap an unwary wizard in the
labyrinthine workings, leading him, or her, in never ending, dizzying circles.
Never quite grasping the solution to the wards. Unless they found the key.
Now it was up to Bill to follow the hundreds of lines and find the one line he
could change, twist and manipulate, to forbid Andromeda access, without causing
the entire structure to leak, creating a back door that clever practitioners of
magic could exploit, or worse yet to collapse the whole framework, to topple
like a house of cards.
Bill grinned, his eyes sparkling. He loved this kind of work. He licked his
lips and wrote so fast his quill was a blue blur as he moved it over the
scroll, Drops of ink flew, all miraculously missing the scroll as the solution
to the wards began to take shape.
A small mound of crumpled and shredded vellum grew beside Bill's chair as he
tried first one solution then another. Discarding each when the balance of the
diagram was not perfect. He scribbled faster. Tore up more of the scrolls,
flinging the scraps into the air. Far from being frustrated with the amount of
effort, he was grinning maniacally. Gods, he loved this!
Charlie was seated not far away, head bent close to Kaithas' as they conferred.
"Lucius has taken the boy as his Chosen. A fitting choice when you think about
it." Charlie said, getting a cautious nod from the Seer. "And Harry is just
being himself, getting into a lot of trouble. Not doing what a good, obedient
kitten would do. Am I right?"
Kaithas nodded again, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "You sound as if you have
heard all I told you before. As if he has made a habit of being difficult. Yet,
you think it is an acceptable circumstance, that our king has taken him as his
Chosen?"
"No, not really. Not exactly. It is a lot of pressure, more than Harry needs.
It is just...you have to know Harry. I could have predicted all of this. These
kinds of things just happen to him. He does what he must, what he thinks is
right. He has the heart of a hero, but he is very vulnerable at the same time.
More a child than many. It is just pure luck things happened this way. If he'd
not been taken as the Chosen he might have self-destructed. This is actually
the best way it could have worked out. I mean if he *had* to be a lycanthrope."
"But, there have been several major problems..." Kaithas was obviously
skeptical of Charlie's conclusion.
"Believe me, where Potter is concerned, these complications don't come close to
true problems. His problems come in industrial size only. These barely qualify
as blips. Now. We have to get to work on keeping the problems small." Charlie
said, as his brow furrowed. He tugged on his long, bright, carroty-orange
braid, rolling the length between his fingers. "Then we can iron out the rest
of these..inconveniences."
"I don't understand how you can minimize these many concerns. There have been
several areas in which the pride laws have been ignored, flouted...." Kaithas
began, but Charlie held up a hand.
"Please, Kaithas, humor me for a moment, allow me to explain. Let's see. Harry
is a powerful wizard. The most powerful of his generation, even though he was
raised by Muggles, in Muggle society. His feelings about sex are very
conservative, puritanical, very Muggle views, unfortunately. He doesn't know
any other way. If he had been taken to the furs by more than one of us, he
might have struck out, considering it rape, not just the workings of a normal
pride. He may have felt that he had to defend himself. He might have destroyed
Malfoy Manor and half the pride in one go." Charlie shuddered, then drew a deep
breath. "So, forgive me, Seer, if I tell you the problems we do have aren't as
bad as they seem. I honestly mean no disrespect."
"So." Kaithas said, after a long minute of contemplation, ascertaining that the
younger were-leopard was indeed sincere. "How do we fix these...tiny troubles?
Graeme has proposed certain...methods, that are now being used. Are you aware
of them?"
"Merlin's blood! Graeme? What kinds of things?" Charlie went pale. He had had
his own run-ins with the pride's third. He had learned to respect the man's
quick paw. Graeme had been his primary disciplinarian while he was a kitten.
And still, as an adult, gave him the willies when he did anything at all that
might be questionable according to the pride's laws. Envisioning the monumental
catastrophe of a clash between Graeme and Harry made Charlie go cold all over.
"I can't think of a worse combination. Graeme and Harry?"
"Calm yourself. Just breathe." Kaithas told the man beside him, laying a hand
on Charlie's shoulder. "You are shaking like a leaf. Are you unwell? Shall I
get you some water?"
"No. No. Just tell me, what has Graeme done? It is possible here is still time
to fix it." Charlie gasped, working to slow his panting breaths.
Kaithas frowned at him, the freckles stood out, splashes of darkness on
bleached white skin. Not a good sign. He kept his voice low and soft, chafing
the strong hands between his own to warm them. "I don't see that there has been
a problem with how our third is handling the situation. He has decreed Harry
will spend time with the senior members of the pride, get used to them, to
their touch. It is working out well."
"I can't...Harry is letting them do this? Letting them touch him?" Charlie
exclaimed. It had taken years before the boy had allowed the members of the
Weasley family to include him in general hugs of greeting. Now he was letting
the pride members touch him, this soon? Charlie couldn't believe it.
"Yes. With the caveat that there will be no sex with any but Lucius. He was
outraged when he discovered that the Chosen was at times given for a night's
pleasure to high ranking and much honored visitors. He threatened to castrate
any who he was given to. He is also not happy with the fact our king has others
in the furs. There was quite a scene when he discovered that. But, he is far
more...controlled and tolerant since Graeme took over his training."
"He likes the structure. Knowing what to expect. My god. I never would have
thought...Graeme, he is so predictable, so clear in his expectations. That is a
refreshing change for Harry, I'd bet. It never would have occurred to me...."
Charlie was chagrined, shaking his head, his breathing was almost back to
normal. He stood. "I really should speak to Graeme, then."
Kaithas smirked at him. "Are you sure you want that?" He asked point blank. The
mere mention of Graeme was enough to knock the man off his stride. Give him the
wiggins.
Charlie laughed nervously. "No. I pretty much want anything but that. My knees
are shaking and I think I am going to throw up. But, I *need* to do it, anyway.
For Harry."
***** Chapter 45 *****
Chapter 45
 
Sirius Black waited for his friend and fellow lycanthrope, Remus Lupin. He
paced impatiently. Dumbledore had refused to tell him more than that Harry was
safe. End of conversation, would you care for a lemon drop, or a mint? No? How
about a chocolate? Sirius had almost screamed in frustration. He knew he wasn't
exactly known for his patience, but damn it, Dumbledore would tax a saint.
No. He would not like a mint, or a lemon drop, or a damn mountain of
chocolates. Sirius wanted one thing. He wanted to know where Harry Potter was.
And he wanted to see him with his own two eyes and make sure the boy was OK.
Not be told by the meddling old fool that everything was just hunky-dory and
not to worry. If Dumbledore tried to pat him one more time, he was going to
give in to the overwhelming urge and bite the man.
Remus would tell him where Harry was, how to find him or Sirius would follow
him until he drove the man crazy. Sirius had just returned from Italy to
discover his young godson was no where to be found. He had come to Hogwarts
before going to the pack's home, expressly to talk to Harry. But, no one had
seen Harry in weeks. And there were rumors of a monster running loose killing
students.
He had finally decided to share with Harry the truth behind his animal shape.
He was a were-wolf. Not just a big black dog-animagus. Together with that
decision had come the second decision, to ask Tambyn to accept Harry into the
pack, to allow Sirius to turn him.
Only now with the monster running around the campus Sirius was frantic with
fear that the thing had hurt Harry somehow and no one was telling him. Sirius
had also looked for Ron Weasley but that boy was gone also. Draco Malfoy,
absent after apparently having a near encounter with the monster. It was not
getting better, hearing these tales and Sirius was about to go on a serious
tear if he didn't get the answers he needed. Fast.
Sirius glanced at the wall clock impatiently. Remus should be done with the
third year DADA students any moment now. Then they would talk. He would find
out just what the hell was going on. Sirius slowed his pacing as the hallway
began to fill with chattering young wizards and witches. All walking in groups,
all looking around more than usual as if looking for danger. More than a few
eyed him suspiciously, clutching at their wands.
At last the students were past and he walked into the empty classroom. Lupin
was bending down, slightly awkwardly, obviously stiff from his so many hurts.
He was not taking to lycanthropy well. It had started a rare malady in him, one
that made his joints less mobile and his healing wasn't very fast at all.
Almost, Sirius thought, as if he was allergic to lycanthropy. But that did
nothing to harm his wizarding power. He was the best DADA professor that
Hogwarts had in recent memory.
"Lupin." Sirius called as he approached the other man, trying to keep his tone
even. He was mad, yes, but there was no reason to take it out on Remus. Not
yet.
The other man whirled around, wand half raised. Then he let out a long sigh and
slumped back against the desk, tiredly.
"Sirius. So you are back. Have you been to see the Headmaster?" Lupin asked
quietly.
"I have. And he told me nothing. I want to know where my godson is. Where is
Harry?" Sirius asked, teeth bared.
"Dumbledore is a coward." Lupin remarked, half-heartedly, if he had had more
strength he would have sounded angry. His jaw was clenched and the words were
forced out through grit teeth. "Come, humor me, let's sit down and I will tell
you what I know. If you would stop disappearing, or let someone know where you
could be contacted, I would have told you sooner." He limped towards the chairs
set before the fireplace. A quiet word and a merry fire was warming the room.
Sinking into one of the overstuffed chairs, he waited for the restless figure
of Sirius Black to join him. He hoped that not being able to pace would slow
down the man's inevitable explosion of anger when he learned what had happened.
But he doubted it. With the news he had to share, Sirius would be going
ballistic.
Sirius fell into the chair like a petulant child, flinging a leg over one of
the wide arms, slumping. He growled. "Just tell me! I want to know what all
this avoiding and trying to calm me down is all about. He isn't dead. I'd know
that. So just what is everyone not telling me?"
Remus Lupin took a deep breath, leaning back in his own chair. He sighed. 'Now,
why wait?' He asked himself, 'time to get it over with'. So he blurted it out.
"Harry is a lycanthrope, a were-leopard."
There was a few seconds pause, then Sirius was launched into the air as if
rocket propelled. "What?! I'll kill Malfoy!" He howled, spittle flying.
Remus dropped his head into his hand, and rubbed his forehead. Some things were
so predictable it was almost scary, if one had the energy to be scared. He
sighed again massaging his temples.
***** Chapter 46 *****
Chapter 46
 
One of the side benefits of being handled by the other adult lycanthropes that
Harry had not expected was that every time he returned to Lucius' company
smelling of another were-leopard, Lucius was driven to cover that smell with
his own scent.
Harry had walked into Lucius' private rooms and being completely overwelmed by
fatigue, lay on the fur covered bed. He felt the lassitude drift over him
slowly as he fell asleep, warm and content. He liked being here, he had to
admit it, in Lucius' bed. It smelled of his alpha. It was a guilty pleasure for
him, each time, knowing he was allowed to be here, though it was a scandal. In
fact, it being a scandal made it all that much more enjoyable.
Harry fell asleep with a smile.
He woke when he felt the licking begin. His whole body took in a startled
breath, held it, then he gave in to the feeling. He was nude and being tasted,
he stretched blissfully, going languidly limp. This was heaven, he decided.
Laying here, barely alert, with Lucius attending to him, not expecting him to
do anything but lay back and enjoy the sensations.
The hot, wet tongue traveled over his feet and ankles. So sensitive. He
trembled in delight. The repeated strokes of the lapping tongue sending almost
imperceptible shivers throghout his body. He moaned, feeling particularly
vulnerable to his lover's touch today, as the licking made slow progress past
his calves, his knees, up to his thighs, then to his hips.
He was sprawled bonelessly, as Lucius bathed him with his tongue, his saliva,
his scent. Oh this was sooo good. So good. His legs were nudged aside, falling
open, wide, one lifted and Lucius burrowed in closer. Nuzzling into the deep
crevices of Harry's body. Applying his attention where he wanted it most,
sucking his penis into a warm, slick mouth. The young man moaned, this was
utterly unexpected, his lover suckling him, nursing his cock. He was hard,
straining, arching into the heat, as Lucius laved him, nibbled, sucked at him.
Harry writhed, panting, while the were-king held him as he wanted him, wantonly
spread, so he could feast.
Harry sighed in surprise, wondering if he should be shocked or embarrassed as
Lucius licked him very intimately. But being embarrassed took too much energy,
besides, it felt incredible, having that talented mouth down there. Swiping him
with a seeking heat, tasting him like delicous candy, spearing him on his
tongue.
Sweet thrills raced through him as Lucius bathed his perineum with singled
minded hunger, his tongue slipping further and further back, until it glided
over the opening to Harry's body. Harry shivered, let out a tiny cry, feeling
his body go liquid, his muscles melting uselessly as Lucius manipulated him,
positioned him. Entered him with the tip of his tongue and Harry let out a
sound that shocked himself, a groan of intense longing.
Lucius nudged him over onto his side, Harry was further licked, up the small of
his back, to his shoulders, to his nape, where the man allowed his sharp teeth
to graze the skin.
Then Harry felt the full, slick cock poised to enter him. He went limp,
waiting, wanting, letting out tiny cries with each breath. Sounds of longing,
and begging, while Lucius pushed into him, a fraction of an inch, another,
coaxing the tight portal to relax, to surrender, to accept the invader, to want
the claiming to continue. Lucius reached down, touched Harry where he was being
entered, smeared wetness around the tight ring. Harry's head fell back, against
Lucius' neck, their hair mingling, dark and pale. Lucius kissed the sweat dewed
cheek, murmured encouragement, whispering reasssurances.
"Ahhh." Harry shuddered, angling his hips to take the penetration, make it
deeper, feel it move powerfully into him, almost too much, his breath sighed
out of him, as Lucius' hands grasped his slender hips and drove into him. His
figers grabbed at the furs, balling into fists. Harry wailed. It was so big, so
hard, too much, he needed it. He needed every bit of it, all of Lucius, his
lover inside of him. This long hardness, this moment, it was all his. The heart
he felt beating against his back, all his. The panting breath along his neck,
feathering over his face, in his ear, all his.
Lucius' large hand knotted in the thick, raven hair, so like silk, pulling
back, exposing the slim throat, the sweet features, as he forced his erection
inside the pliant body, listening to the mewling cries of ecstasy and
surrender. He tasted the salty throat, biting it, careful not to break the
skin.
"You are mine, my kitten." He hissed, barely more than a puff of air, like
fingers sliding over Harry's cheek. Growled through clenched teeth. The
kitten's whole body stood to attention, strained, trembling, open, waitng,
taking all the force the larger older were-cat could give him, melting with
each surge into his body, giving in, yet demanding more.
"Take me, fill me, tear me apart, I am yours...." Harry thought, not realizing
he murmured it out loud. He shook like a leaf in the man's hold.
It was at that moment the doorway was filled, as Bill Weasley stepped into the
room, waving his completed diagram of the ward's solution excitedly. His mouth
was opening to call out his triumph to Lucius when he realized what he was
seeing and the words dried up in his throat.
Harry writhing in estasy or in exquiste pain. Arched up into the king's hold,
keening low, sweet, skin flushed, one tight nipple visible, a flushed jewel, as
Lucius held him, riding him. Bill gaped, frozen in place by the absolute beauty
of the youth and the man enjoined.
"Mine." Lucius snarled, his fangs growing, his eyes going feral, light silver,
burning grey, as they fixed on the intruder, not his second and not his third.
"Yours, my alpha." Harry and Bill answered together, meaning different things,
yet the same thing, just as faintly, Harry afraid to yell it, though every
fiber of his being wanted to shout it out loud. Bill afraid almost, to breathe.
Harry was the Chosen. Bill's heart raced, he sank to the floor, unable to look
away, transfixed by what he saw. Harry was the lover of the king, it was the
king's flesh which pierced him, the flesh he rode. Which made him cry out his
pleasure and his need. The flesh he served, was royal meat, thick in his
sheath, filling him so wonderfully, frighteningly full.
The sound, the scent, sending shockingly strong lust surging through Bill's
body. And with it fear, intense, all encompassing, as he knew his king might
attack him for it. For daring to be aroused, uninvited, here unbidden.
Lucius drove himself into the tightness, the sheath contracting around his own
flesh, making him moan with triumph, as the beloved body twisted and shook
underneath him. The heat scent rose up, the scent of arousal, the groan as he
drove in further, striking the nub inside that made all of the kitten's body
spasm, that small place that drew a scream from his beloved, that made him open
that last fraction, that made his body clutch all the harder.
Bill backed out of the room on hands and knees, head lowered, eyes fixed on the
burning orbs of his king. Cursing himself for being so caught up in his puzzle
that he hadn't thought before he ran into the room, had ignored the scents
filling the air. He made it to the outer hall before collapsing on his side,
curling up, knees drawn up to his chest, the parchment crushed in his
involuntary fist.
The other man was gone, the threat to his kitten, not immediate. There was
nothing on the king's mind now, nothing but taking his kitten, his Chosen, and
pounding into him, driving them both to orgasm, filling Harry's body with his
seed. With gentle, irresistable force the king tugged Harry's head back,
turning him so their faces came closer, so he could lick the treasured face,
his cheeks, his soft, parted lips, catch the cries, constant and tremulous, in
his own mouth. Their tongues meshed, played, mated, as their bodies surged,
rode the crest and fell over. Spurting hot, white, thick ropes, over and over,
as Harry shuddered and whimpered.
Soft kisses. Long, lingering wet, full mouthed kisses. Sucking, tangling
tongues. Hands, soothing, him, loving him, cradling him, as he lay, painting
for air, destroyed by the strength of his love, the loving. Lucius still long,
hard, thick inside of him, still pulsing, drawing small gasps from the
exhausted youth.
Outside the room, Bill lay on the stone floor. Shaking. Amrys and Severus Snape
turned the corner of the hall, saw him and both men came quickly to his side,
kneeling.
"Are you injured? Lie still." Snape asked, running his expert hands and eyes
over the trembling figure. He freed the crumpled parchment from the man's fist,
setting it aside. Bill looked at him, eyes wide, alarmed, then he relaxed
seeing who it was,...and who it wasn't.
Amrys laid a gentle hand on his friend, Bill shook harder. Arousal scent from
Bill, sex scent from Lucius' rooms. No smell of blood. The smells told Amrys
the story, he did not need to ask for an explanation. He settled himself behind
the redhaired man, holding him, comforting him. Reassuring him.
Bill moaned. Snape laid a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"Take a breath. Slowly. Hold it. Release it. Again." Snape's velvet voice
provided a diversion, Bill seized it with both hands. He drew in a breath, held
it, let it go. And repeated the sequence. He was almost relaxed, almost calm,
almost ready to stand, when the king stepped out of his rooms and into the
hall.
***** Chapter 47 *****
Chapter 47
 
Lucius came to stand over the three men. His eyes were still silver, still
burning, but his fangs were not bared, nor displayed in a threat. He stood
looking down at them, face unreadable. His eyes flicked from one face, the
tanned, calm visage of his second, to another, the pale skinned, disapproving
face of the Hogwarts' professor who rose to his feet under the scrutiny and
came to rest on the unnaturally white, starkly freckled face of his brilliant,
obsessive, and easily distracted, redheaded curse breaker.
"Bill!" The call was sharp, fearful, coming from the broad shouldered man who
had rounded the corner and was now loping towards them, attention fully fixed
on his brother. Graeme, frowning, was not far behind. Charlie slid to a stop on
his own knees, next to his older brother.
"What happened?" He asked, his hands roaming over the other man, frantically
searching for any possible injury, carding through carroty hair for bumps and
bruises. It wasn't all that uncommon for himself or other Dragon Master's to be
hurt. But he couldn't find any injury. "Where do you hurt? Are you in pain?"
"Nnnnoo." Bill managed to get out. Charlie looked at Amrys, who was still
holding Bill, then at Snape.
"What happened? He isn't acting like he is OK." Charlie insisted as Graeme
glided up to the group. He, unlike Charlie, looked at the pride king. Then he
moved closer, bent his head, offering his cheek and the side of his throat.
"My king." The dark eyed man murmured. Lucius rubbed his face along the cheek
of his third. Graeme inhaled, smelled sex, his eyes gleaming. The Potter boy.
He smelled him on the king. And he smelled Bill's heat. He smiled, flashing his
pearly white, very sharp teeth. He could just guess what had happened. Bill had
not been paying attention. Again.
"Leave us." The king said to his second, third, Charlie, and to the visiting
Potion's Master. Snape eyed him critically, raising a single brow, saying
nothing, taking a single step back, then not moving further.
Charlie surged to his feet, looming protectively. "No! Tell me what is wrong.
Bill is hurt..."
Lucius folded his arms over his chest. "Charlie..." he began gently, but
firmly.
"He is not hurt. Not yet." Graeme corrected. Charlie turned on him, glaring.
"Obey your king." Graeme ordered harshly.
"And what do you know about it?" Charlie snapped. "He's my brother. I will take
care of him. Come on Bill..."
"I trust you won't do anything regrettable." Snape said acerbically to the tall
blond king, his gaze moving from Lucius' to rest on the two brothers. "The
Weasleys are all remarkably loyal, though perhaps given to impulsive action.
They have a strong tendency not to think first."
"I am in full control of myself. I am aware of the strengths and the weaknesses
of all my leopards." The were-king said in response. "Do not concern yourself,
Severus. You are not of my pride. Amrys, Graeme." Lucius made a shooing motion.
"Leave me with my leopard. Go."
Amrys took hold of the dark clad man's arm and guided him down the hall. Snape
went, having said what he meant to say. Graeme took hold of Charlie's arm.
Charlie did not go willingly, he struggled.
"No!" He yelled. "Let me stay!"
Graeme grabbed him, tossing him over his shoulder. Charlie fought and managed
to wriggle away. Graeme caught him, spinning him, Charlie lashing out, landing
a blow. Graeme sprouted claws, lifted his paws. Amrys abandoned Snape, who
wisely stayed still, observing with significant interest and headed towards the
fighting were-cats.
"Stop." Lucius' voice held, command, authority, ringing of the imperative of
the call. The were-leopards froze, istantly. He extended his arm. "Bill
Weasley, come to me."
Bill obeyed, rising to his feet, head bowed and went to his king. "I am not
angry." Lucius said as he took the man into his arms. Bill sagged in relief.
Then Lucius extended his arm again, continuing to hold Bill with the other. It
was a voiceless command this time. Amrys, Graeme and Charlie moved towards him.
He slid his arm around Charlie, who was shaking with the adrenaline of his
fight and consumed with fear for his brother.
Lucius met the gazes of his second and third. They moved in, surrounding the
two brothers with their arms and bodies. They stood in a knot, the five of
them, as Severus Snape looked at them bemusedly. He reacted slightly, raising
his brows, when the king of the pride nuzzled and licked the freckled faces of
Charlie and Bill. That was not part of the normal greeting Snape witnessed. He
was first to notice the movement from the king's private rooms. His dark eyes
took in the disheveled, unclothed youth. Not a bad look for Potter, he decided
wryly. Rather fetching.
"Hey. What's going on?" A sleepy, confused voice cut through everything. Harry
stood in the doorway rubbing at his eyes, looking more alarmed by the second.
Lucius immediately held out his hand. Harry came forward, taking it without
hesitation. He was pulled into the pride embrace.
Bill moaned as Lucius rubbed his cheek again, bent down, touched him next to
his ear. He pushed at Bill's face with his own chin, until their gazes locked,
held.
"I am not angry." Lucius repeated.
"But, it would be best if you waited for leave, before you came into my private
rooms." Lucius said mildly. "There are three permitted entrance without my
leave. My second, my third and my Chosen."
Bill nodded, his bright eyes locked with those of his king.
"What did you come to tell me?" Lucius asked.
Bill's expression transformed from one instant to the next, going from
trepidation, to excitement in a flash. "Oh! I found the solution!" He
announced, face alight.
Before Lucius could respond, there was a pop and a fetid stench filled the air.
The men all turned as one, knowing what they would find. The tall, deformed
figures of the monstrous, magically perverted lycanthropes were in the hallway,
one on either side of Severus Snape.
And off to one side of them, virtually unnoticed, due to the distraction of the
monsters, was the figure of a black furred canine. Who leaped forward directly
at Harry when the group of were-leopards sprang apart to face the inturders.
Harry screamed as he was grabbed, held, and the hallway dissolved around him.
He dimly heard the roar of rage as he was apparated out of the protection of
the Manor.
Only one of the were-cats was close enough to respond to Harry's scream. Graeme
launched himself at the canine-man who had seized Harry, locking his strong
arms around them and was pulled into the apparation spell. They tumbled into
space.
***** Chapter 48 *****
Chapter 48
 
They hit the ground rolling, the apparating spell thrown off kilter by the
unintended addition of Graeme. Furniture went flying, a side table and a well
padded chair, as well as a lamp and a dozen knick-knacks, were tossed about by
their tumbling entrance.
They came to rest against one of the walls of the Hogwarts Castle, in the
sitting room of Remus Lupin.
Lupin was caught completely unawares, pouring his cup of tea, when suddenly his
room was host to a snarling were-wolf, a hissing were-cat, and a naked,
bewildered, terrified looking Harry Potter. His tea splashed over the rim of
the cup and overfilled the saucer, dripping onto the counter before Lupin
managed to react. The pot hit the counter with a crash as he nearly tossed it
down and leaped for the boy, to drag him away from the immediate danger of the
already scrapping were-animals.
Harry was screaming over the cacophony. "Sirius, Graeme, stop....Stop! Don't
hurt him! Graeme, I am OK! Sirius!" He was hopping up and down, waving his
arms, unable to decide what to do.
Lupin arrived at his side drawing him back, but Harry fought the man's
protective hold.
"You don't understand!" He yelled. "Graeme will kill him! He doesn't know who
he is! He thinks I am being threatened. Let me go! Graeme, stop! Please!"
But, Lupin did not turn him loose. He did however raise his wand and cast a
spell. Both combatants froze in place for a heartbeat, then tumbled to the
floor in twin heaps. Lupin hurried to the black were-wolf's side. "Get them
apart, Harry. Spells don't last long on lycanthropes. We are resistant to
magic."
Harry lost no time pulling Graeme over to the far wall and sitting on him, as
Remus did the same with Sirius. It was only moments before Graeme heaved under
Harry. Harry wrapped arms and legs around the bigger were-leopard, clinging
with all his strength.
"Graeme! Graeme! Can you hear me? It's Harry! Graeme, don't fight any more!
It's my godfather. He isn't going to hurt me!" Harry repeated over and over,
clutching at the big, strong body.
"He stinks." Graeme's voice was surprisingly even, as he gained his feet easily
despite bearing Harry's weight as well as his own. One hand moved under Harry's
butt, supporting him. Harry didn't loosen his hold. "He is a were-wolf, dog-
breath, kitten stealer."
"He's an animagus." Harry corrected, only to hear a voice from the other side
of the room.
"No." Remus Lupin said. "He...we, are both lycanthropes. Were-wolves, Harry.
Sirius didn't want you to know until you were older."
"Now...too....late." Sirius Black slurred, from under the shielding form of his
best friend, Remus. "Gonna ask Tambyn, wanted to make you one of us. God-damned
Malfoy got to you first. I'll kill the perverting bastard!" Sirius' voice grew
stronger as the magic wore off.
"No!" Harry yelled, hearing Graeme's growl. "Sirius! It was an accident. I was
attacked by one of the monsters. One of the ones you were with when you entered
the Malfoy Manor." Harry frowned. "Why were you with them?"
"I chanced across them, they were talking about going to the Manor, confronting
that feline ponce and they smelled so fucking awful neither of them noticed me,
or that I went along with them. Somethin' wrong with those two." Black glowered
at the were-cat Harry was holding.
Graeme was half human, half animal. Sirius was all human now. And the state of
the leopard told him, even in his agitated mind, just how powerful the cat was.
He'd have to get Harry away from him carefully. Make Harry come to him, get far
enough away the cat couldn't grab on this time, and apparate the two of them
out...without the damn pussy-cat.
"Sirius, don't you dare do what you are planning. Graeme, I believe your name
is, after all it is the one Potter has been yelling. No more. Let us sit down
like civilized men and talk." Remus said, actually...ordered. "You, Sirius, are
going to stay with me, where I can watch you. And Harry you stay with your
cat."
Harry was carried by a wary and suspicious Graeme over to one of the
overstuffed chairs closest to the door to the hall. Sirius snarled but allowed
himself to be taken to another chair, sitting down calculating the best angle
to approach the cat who had Harry, only to have Lupin sit in his lap, trapping
him.
"Hey," Black complained. Lupin shook his head.
"No. Don't even ask. I am too tired to deal with your shenanigans. You are
going to stay put and we are going to solve this with reasonable conversation
and negotiation, not fighting. He's stronger than you anyway, in case you
haven't noticed. And, in case you haven't noticed. Harry is fine with him, he
isn't afraid of him. So let it be." Remus scolded, sighing. "You made me spill
my tea."
"I'll get you some, professor." Harry said unwinding himself from the tall,
copper-haired were-leopard, who growled. "You want some, too, Graeme?"
"No. I don't know it is safe. You won't have any either." Was Graeme's clipped
response.
"But, I can get if for professor Lupin?" Harry pressed. "Then I'll come right
back."
Graeme shook his head, and rose. "If you insist on getting it for your
professor, I will go with you."
And he followed Harry into the kitchen nook where Harry searched through the
cupboards for a clean cup and saucer, filled it, located a few sweet biscuits
and carried both over to the table next to the chair that held Lupin and
Sirius. Sirius snarled and heaved at the weight in his lap half-heartedly, not
budging the vigilant Lupin.
Graeme snarled right back and had Harry up and over his shoulder, moving for
the door almost before Harry had the saucer down.
"No!" Harry shouted. "We have to talk! Stop." And to his utter shock, Graeme
did, sitting down, tucking Harry half behind him in the chair, his hands,
sporting long, wicked claws which he showed to the two were-wolves.
"So talk. Convince me why I shouldn't kill you for assaulting my king's
Chosen." Graeme rumbled, his lips peeling back from his fearsome teeth. Harry
gaped at him.
"He was my godson first!" Sirius howled, in agitated response. Remus and Harry
looked at each other and sighed.
***** Chapter 49 *****
Chapter 49
 
Snape lost no time in jumping forward and away from the fetid monsters suddenly
on either side of him. He felt the rush of air next to his face, a mere instant
slower, he realized, and he'd have taken a full impact to his head. With the
power the thing possessed, it might have killed him. The odor rolling off of
the monsters was appalling, as if they were in an abattoir, surrounded by
rotting corpses.
He instinctively grabbed his wand as he moved, fighting Voldemort and his
minions had given him good reflexes and made him eternally vigilant, he had
certainly been in more than one battle. He ran forward three long, off-balance
steps then spun on his heel.
Someone gold and brown flashed by him, then one pale and blond, long fur
flying, a second later two streaks of flaming carrot red fur flew past. He
heard the roar and clash as he whirled around, wand raised. Big, disgusting
hands were reaching for him, crazed eyes blazing as one of the creatures had
pursued him, not deterred enough by the two were-cats impacting it, raking it
with long talons. It swiped at him again, seeming intent on reaching him out of
all reason.
Snape had thought the thing was bent on destroying the pride and its members.
It made little sense that it would preferentially attack him, until he recalled
it had started its attacks at Hogwarts. Only lately had attacks moved to the
Manor including the attack on Draco.
The Potion's Master skittered out of reach, hearing the cloth of his trousers
rip on the extended claws that raked at his thigh, missing flesh by a tiny
fraction of an inch but destroying the fabric. It galvanized every nerve and
muscle in his body to contract at once as he pushed away, bouncing backwards on
his heels, palms and butt, barely retaining hold on his wand, his hard grip
nearly snapping it in half. More claws flashed, Amrys' and Bill's, these
mercifully tearing into the beast and not into him.
The noise was deafening, roaring, snarling, screams of ear-piercing levels. And
the sound of tearing flesh, the shower of blood sprinkling down like a fine
rain. It slapped into his face, he held back his flinch as the mess flowed,
dripping down. He ignored it. He could not afford the distraction.
He fell back, out of range, only just, his wand useless until he could get more
room. He scrambled backwards like a spider, trying to distance himself. The
monster followed. He saw a tanned arm, long and magnificently muscular, wrap
around the thing's throat, jerking back, hard. Then Amrys sprang away, after
diverting the beast's attention. He was half man-half leopard, Snape stared at
the gore soak warrior. Merlin! What an inopportune moment to realize that the
pride's second was so attractive.
The fight was on, Snape watching from a slight distance. He didn't have the
physical strength of the lycanthropes and the monstrous things. He was not
impervious to claws, nor did he have the healing ability of the lycanthropes.
He had to stay away if possible.
The combatants were too close for him to cast a spell without hitting those he
didn't want to hit. He methodically went through his choices for a spell that
would give the advantage to the were-leopards without causing any harm to them.
The monsters were so large, even the strength of the were-leopards was making
only a moderate impact on them. He had to come up with something. Sweat beaded
on his upper lip. There was a possibility....
Snape lifted his wand as Amrys punched his fist through the torso of one of the
beasts, claws ripping. The monster smacked him away and he flew back against
the wall, while Bill Weasley leaped on the creature's back. Behind them Snape
saw Lucius Malfoy and Charlie Weasley, both in animal form fighting the second
thing.
Snape wasted no time, he spoke the spell he'd chosen. Light flashed,
brilliantly blinding, excruciating in it's intensity. It would have been best
to be able to give a warning, but, there had been no time. When he could see
again there were two women on the floor, surprisingly small and four growling
lycanthropes crouched over them.
Lucius snapped back into human form, covered in blood and bits of decaying
flesh. He was hovering over the body of a strange woman. Strange to him, but
Snape recognized her at once, and he moved around the group to stand over her,
fighting the tremble of adrenaline that was still racing through his body.
"Sybil Trelawny. Professor of Divination at Hogwarts. Completely without
talent, as far as divination's concerned and most magical skills. I am
astounded she has managed to do something like this." Snape said as he bent
over her. The other leopards were changing back, healing as they did so.
"You recognize this one?" Lucius commented, bending over the former professor.
He pointed to the other woman, who lay sprawled on her back, a gaping hole in
her chest where Amrys' taloned hand had torn into her. "That one was my sister,
Andromeda. And this was completely beyond her level of magic."
"She is dead, my king." Amrys said, unnecessarily. He kept the note of
satisfaction out of his voice, but he felt it. She had done enough damage to
the pride. Now, she could do no more.
"There was no choice." Lucius responded. "She would have allowed no compromise.
She had condemned herself with her own actions."
He looked at the other men. "Now, where is my Chosen? And where is Graeme? Who
was it who took him?" He growled.
***** Chapter 50 *****
Chapter 50
 
"Sirius Black." Snape supplied, having unexpected trouble tearing his eyes away
from the tall, muscular form of the pride's second, Amrys. He marshaled all of
his indomitable will and forced his attention away. Now was not the time to
find this kind of thing out. Nor the time to explore it.
Strange. Snape was, as far as he knew, heterosexual. Though in recent years,
celibate was more accurate. He'd never had the slightest interest in another
man sexually. He forced himself to shelve the questions that he'd be asking
himself...later. Now, they had to address finding Potter, before that imbecile
godfather of his did something foolish and irreversible.
Lucius turned to look at him, pale eyes hot. "Sirius Black? I know that name.
Who is he?" He asked, his voice deeper and more penetrating than normal. He was
standing tall, flushed with the past battle as they walked into his private
bathing room. His broad shoulders were dappled with blood.
"Potter's godfather." Snape answered. thinking how, perhaps if the lycanthropes
had taken sides in the war against Voldemort, things might have gone more
smoothly, resolution come more quickly. Yet, they had adamantly declined. All
of them. Canine, feline and rodent. Refusing to give a reason, beyond it was
not their fight. They were highly insular. But Snape had a sneaking suspicion
there was some other reason.
"Why would he be working with my sister and the witch to invade my home?"Lucius
asked, harshly. Frowning, brows drawn down, mouth a hard line. "How great a
risk is he to my Chosen's safety?"
"No doubt he was thinking he was saving the boy from some horrible fate.
Unfortunately, the man is a were-wolf. He is not going to be pleased to find
out Potter is a were-leopard." Snape said, evenly. "I doubt he'd harm the boy,
but when you are dealing with Black, there are accidents that tend to happen."
It was all too predictable. Like a curse had been cast on the man. He took a
deep breath before adding the rest of the information.
"At one time he was imprisoned in Azkaban as criminally insane. But, that
proved to be an exaggeration." The Hogwarts professor tried to keep his
delivery without inflection. Personally he thought Black *was* mentally
deranged and dangerous. But it wouldn't do to inflame the situation they now
found themselves in. Men who fought like he had just witnessed, didn't need any
more motivation that might drive them to retaliation and excess emotion.
Lucius and Amrys exchanged glances, Lucius growled, until Amrys pushed him over
to the edge of the water, stripping his clothing off. He propelled his king
into the water.
"Wash, then we will go find Harry." Amrys said, comfortingly. Lucius scowled
harder.
Snape watched as the other man entered the steam filled bathing pool. He was an
adult, he'd certainly undressed in locker rooms before. But, he suddenly didn't
want to be naked. Only the foul slime coating the front of his suit-robes and
clinging wetly to his face, convinced him to reach for his buttons. Amrys moved
directly into his view causing Severus' fingers to slip, fumbling at his
fastenings.
The man was clad only in loose pants, silk or something equally fine, now
soiled with the remains of the fight. Amrys looked down and saw the mess he was
wearing, grimacing. Without blinking he divested himself of the clothing and
stood naked in the misty room, like a primal nature god, moisture already
condensing on his golden brown skin, dewing his blond hair. He shook his body,
just like a dog flinging off dirt and glided into the water. Snape thought he
was going to swallow his tongue.
They bathed as Lucius asked for more information. Snape concentrated on
providing the answers and getting clean as quickly as possible. Once the bath
was done, he was presented with clothing, not his usual trim robes and
certainly not in the austere cut he usually wore.
The fabric was light and fine, a black with faintly visible charcoal grey
markings at the edges. The pants were like soft fingers caressing his skin, the
long sleeved tunic, slightly more substantial, still conformed rather closely
to his body. Still, they were clean and his own clothing was unwearable at this
point. He would make do.
"Severus. Take me to the werewolf." Lucius was resplendent in a deep crimson
fringed with black markings that made his skin glow white. His face was
supremely haughty. Every inch a king. Which wouldn't impress Sirius Black in
the least.
 
They arrived in the one place Snape was allowed to apparate into on Hogwarts'
grounds. His own dungeon rooms. Snape took advantage of the location to grab
clean boots. It was not far from his abode to the rooms of Remus Lupin. Lupin
would know where Black was. The two were friends. Or possibly more, though
Snape was amazed at the thought of the calm, gentle soul that was Remus Lupin,
consorting with the agitated and dangerously impulsive Sirius Black.
They strode up the hall to the DADA professor's rooms, a silent and intent
party of three. Snape, still in the borrowed clothing, Lucius in his fantastic
robe, then the amber clad Amrys, whose clothing floated like spiderweb on the
air currents.
Amrys and Lucius were bare foot, Snape had refused to go without footwear,
slipping his boots back on after wiping the gore from them. Now his new boots
were firmly on his feet, the old ones burning to ashes in his fireplace. He'd
never get the stench of those creatures out of them.
Snape paused outside Lupin's rooms. He knew at once Black was inside. He heard
the sounds of sniffing in the air coming from the two men behind him. He was
turning to tell Lucius, when the man pushed past him. His face frighteningly
intent. He said one word.
"Harry." Lucius growled. Amrys followed him in as they burst through the door.
***** Chapter 51 *****
Chapter 51
 
Lucius slammed into the room. Crimson robes flying, hair streaming like silver
and gold threads behind him. Two men who had been sitting, one on the other's
lap, burst up from the chair they shared on the far side of the room. Or,
rather, the one underneath catapulted upwards and the one seated in his lap was
ejected into the air, limbs flailing.
Amrys sprang up to his king's side, placing himself between Lucius and the two
men.
There were five people inside the large, comfortable room. Amrys put his back
to the two he knew were safest, Graeme and Harry. The other three he squared
off with, watching them with wary, untrusting eyes. Lucius placed one hand on
his second's shoulder. He glared at the men in front of them.
The black haired, disheveled man who had kidnapped his pride's Chosen, was the
one who had been sitting in the chair, the one who had leaped up. A tall, thin,
mildly sickly looking man with reddish brown hair next to him, both hands
clasped tight to Black's upper arms. A moment ago he had been sitting in the
black haired man's lap. Now he struggled to hold the other man still. To keep
him from rushing over to the were-leopards and attacking.
"Graeme?" Lucius said, over his shoulder, remaining on guard against the rooms
non-pride occupants. Concentrating on the two who were moving, rather than the
one who had remained seated.
"Your Chosen is safe and unharmed, my king." Graeme responded and the tension
that had been apparent in Lucius' body eased, his shoulders lowered a fraction
and he took a deep breath. He nodded his head, then lifted his chin as he
stared down at the grappling men, who had now fallen to the floor. They seemed
fairly evenly matched. One crazed and strong, the other more in control, enough
so he could restrain the flailing one, for now.
"Yourself?" Lucius asked, a tone of gentleness creeping into his voice,
softening it just enough not to cut the air with its sharpness.
"I am well, my king." Graeme murmured in return. He flushed, both surprised and
pleased with Lucius' public declaration of concern before strangers.
"I am in your debt, my third, for following him here." Lucius said. Meaning
every word. He would not have been able to forgive himself if Harry had been
hurt, or killed. It was his role, to protect and care for the one he Chose. Yet
that one, Harry, had vanished from right under his nose. Only Graeme's quick
action had averted disaster. And only chance had made it the godfather and not
Andromeda or the mad professor who had grabbed him.
"My privilege, my king." Graeme responded formally, but from his heart. Lucius
inclined his head in acknowledgment. Graeme let his hold on the raven haired
youth relax.
Harry let out a gasp, was around Graeme quickly, launching himself into Lucius'
arms. He was wearing what appeared to be a nightshirt, far too long and yet it
fit his shoulders well. Probably belonged to the thin man then, Lucius thought,
hugging Harry with one arm, keeping the other free to defend them, lifting him
up off his feet and pressing him to his chest. Pleased that Harry was clothed
in some fashion, here among others not of the pride.
The urge to claim him here, in front of the man who had stolen him was
overwhelming. The need to show them all the youth was his, was the pride's, was
very great. But, Lucius fought it. The situation was not yet stable. And the
Chosen did not always respond well to being taken in public.
The godfather immediately began struggling, shouting and yelling threats,
trying to charge across the room to reach Harry. The thin man was having
trouble holding him, until the fifth man who had been in the room originally,
stood and looped a long arm around Sirius. Holding him easily. Towering over
them all. It was Tambyn, the were-wolf king.
"No. Please, Sirius. Don't. This is the pride's alpha, my king, Lucius Malfoy."
Harry was saying. "Sirius, it's Ok. I'm fine. I don't mind being with the were-
leopards." He was trying to calm the dark haired man. But, he knew enough that
he did not try to leave the protection of Lucius' embrace and go to his
godfather. Graeme came to stand alongside his king and the second, flanking
them.
"I know who it is. He is a were-leopard." Sirius howled. Trying to squirm out
of Remus' hold. "He stole you from your people!"
"What?" Harry said, truly puzzled. "What are you talking about, Sirius?"
"He planned this. Changed you while I was away and couldn't stop it.... Don't
worry, I'll help you get away....I'll see you become one of us, not a filthy
*cat*." Sirius snarled, eyes glowing red as he looked at Lucius. Lucius raised
his brows. This one was dangerous.
"Quiet." Tambyn said in his deep, grating rumble. He turned to Lucius. "My wolf
wishes to lay claim to this one. He says he is his guardian and did not give
permission for him to be turned. By our law he has a right to the boy."
"He is mine!" Sirius howled again, despite Remus' soothing murmurs. "He belongs
with the pack!"
"He. Is. My. Chosen." Lucius said, enunciating each word with icy clarity. "He
can not be removed from my pride. I will not allow it."
"You are a king. You understand the sacred laws of the packs and the prides.
You must allow me to take him and protect him as one of my own until this
matter can be solved in the pack's council." Tambyn, said, reasonably. "I must
follow our laws."
He reached out towards Harry. "It can not be resolved in any other way. He must
come with us." Tambyn insisted.
"You have heard the words of our king. The Chosen stays with the pride." Amrys
responded, feeling Lucius shaking with rage behind him.
Tambyn was shaking his head. "I have no choice but to enforce our laws." He
said, almost sadly. Reaching his hand out for Harry again.
Harry had had enough. He hissed, fangs growing, fur bursting out all over his
body, claws sprang out of his large paws. He spoke with the last human voice he
had as he changed.
"Get away from me." He snarled.
***** Chapter 52 *****
Chapter 52
 
"Perhaps, before we resort to physical measures, we might talk?" The velvet
voice of Severus Snape cut through the tension. He wisely didn't put himself
between the two groups and studiously avoided the bristling were-cat, but did
move up so all could see him clearly. "Mr. Potter is a student here and thus
was under our guardianship at the time he was attacked. Not that of Mr.
Black's."
"That's a lie!" Sirius shouted, struggling more determinedly. Harry grrrr'd
under his breath. Sirius continued. "He's mine!"
"Sirius!" Remus exclaimed. "This is not helping!"
"I will not give up my Chosen, Tambyn. As you would fight for your heir, I
would fight for what is mine." Lucius Malfoy grated out. "Your laws are not my
laws. He is a were-leopard and not a were-wolf. The laws he follows are ours."
"I whole-heartedly agree. Let us talk this through, my king. No need to
escalate things now." Remus said, looking up at Tambyn. "It would hardly solve
anything if there is a fight and the young man is injured. He seems prepared to
object strenuously to going." He cast his eyes over to the ominously growling
young-ling.
"The laws..." Tambyn began, brow furrowed. He kept to the laws that governed
his people. He made no exceptions. The law gave the pack security, they knew
what behavior was acceptable and what would result in punishment.
"Can not bind the were-leopards. Unless you agree to be bound by our laws?
Equity? Parity?" Lucius said, expression grim, unyielding. He let one fang show
as it lengthened in a less than subtle threat.
"I would give you a hostage to assure your Chosen's safety." Tambyn offered. He
unbent enough to say more. "He will come to no harm while with us. I will give
you my personal guarantee."
"No." Lucius said as the were-leopard-Harry crouched lower and arched its back,
tail puffing out to astounding proportions, fur standing out all over his body.
"He may be only a kitten, but he will do you serious injury if you try to take
him. Of course you would have to come through all of us first, to get to him.
He is of our pride and none shall take him from his pride."
"This one came into our Manor with the monsters and stole him from us, from his
home." Graeme spit out, pointing a single claw at Sirius. "He can not be
trusted. And our laws forbid we turn our Chosen over to you. He is our alpha's,
and only our king can chose to give him up. My king has said he will not and
so, the Chosen will remain with us."
"That is not yours to say, cat." Tambyn drew himself up.
"Perhaps we can all take a breath. And calm down?" Remus ventured, cautiously.
Everyone turned to glare at him, except Severus Snape.
"As I said." Snape interjected into the temporary silence. "Mr. Potter was not
under Mr.Black's guardianship. Therefore Mr. Black's consent, or lack of it is
moot. Harry was attacked and *accidentally* turned. It was not planned or
sanctioned. I believe the true intent was to kill him. So. We are left with the
facts, he is a were-leopard. Malfoy, here, is the king of that group and thus
Mr. Potter is subject to him. Or would you wish to open the can of worms as to
which laws of the wizarding world should apply to both the pack and the pride?"
Tambyn looked over to the tall, slender man wearing the pride's clothing. He
smelled human. "I do not like you. You do not smell right." He said. "What
right have you to interfere in our business?"
"I am a professor employed by Hogwarts, thus I am one of those responsible for
his welfare." Snape informed the giant man. He steadfastly refused to notice
that they were all staring at him, the were-cat included. Harry's huge emerald
eyes were big as saucers and he had momentarily stopped growling.
"I will assure you, professor, that he will not come to harm with us." Tambyn
asserted. "I myself will see to it, he will be at my side, waking and
sleeping."
"You will take him to your bed?" Amrys asked, suddenly.
"He is the mate of a king. I would do him the honor of taking him to my bed."
Tambyn drew himself up, proud and regal. He stared down his long nose at the
shorter blond.
"You want him for your own!" Graeme snarled, his eyes beginning the glow that
preceded the change for him.
"I do not normally desire males." The wolf-king informed him haughtily. "But I
will honor the mate of another king and allow him pleasure with me. All his
needs will be seen to."
"No. Unless you wish to die for that pleasure. My Chosen is not gifted to any
other. Not even a king." Lucius stated.
Harry seemed to agree, his growling had resumed, the volume doubled. He arched
up and snarled, baring all his teeth, making clear his displeasure with
Tambyn's idea. He nearly hopped with fury, whiskers stiff with his outrage. His
haunches tensed as he prepared to launch himself at the were-wolf and rake him
with extended claws.
"Mr. Potter," Came the smooth voice, familiar from seven years of Potion's
classes. "Don't be an ass. If you attack them, they will have you in their
grasp. And if they can get their hands on you, they can apparate with you, to a
destination more to their advantage than yours or ours."
Graeme, sensing the young man's indecision, to jump and fight, or to merely
posture from afar...Grabbed a handful of thick dark fur and held on.
Harry let out a deflated snarl as he felt the fingers fasten onto his coat. He
whined. He'd really wanted to sink his teeth into the wolf. Just let them try
to touch him....his teeth gleamed.
***** Chapter 53 *****
Chapter 53
 
"Now. Please, everyone calm down. Harry. It is time to face this in human form,
don't you think?" Remus said gently, with one arm still around his friend,
Sirius, holding tight, more than aware what Sirius was capable of on impulse.
"I beg you, my kings, don't let this get out of hand. Do not war over one young
man."
"I will not let my Chosen be taken from me." Lucius stated with complete
conviction, squaring his very broad shoulders, as he faced off with the even
more massive Tambyn. Tambyn lowered his shaggy head and snarled.
"He should have been a wolf, my wolf and mine to bind to me. I wonder if you
arranged for his change while Sirius was away, knowing he could not be yours
any other way. You desired his power to use." Tambyn argued, eyes slitted with
speculation and anger. "He has been a lycanthrope for less than a quarter of a
year and already he is Chosen? I charge that you conspired with your sister to
use the monster to change him. He is not rightfully yours."
"I had no part in his being turned. Your man Paulsen brought the boy to me at
the behest of Hogwarts' Headmaster. Who then had custody of him. Until he was
delivered to me, I had no knowledge that he had been turned." Lucius asserted
angrily. A flush of outrage coloring his cheeks. Harry gazed up at him. He was
magnificent, so kingly, so handsome.
"This, I can not believe. The evidence tells me otherwise." Tambyn shook his
head, emphatically. "It is too convenient for the were-leopards. It can not be
a coincidence. I certainly did not send Paulsen to you with the boy. I would
not have permitted it."
The two kings returned each other's glares. Snape chanced stepping closer to
Harry, going down on his knee to talk to the young-ling cat, who eyed him
warily. He spoke low and urgently. The situation was escalating, a slow
inevitable rise of tension and accusations that would result in a battle, here
and now. It had to be defused and quickly.
"You can't talk if you remain a cat, Mr. Potter." Severus Snape said, reminding
Harry of Dumbledore more than the Snape he recalled from his lessons. "This is
one time you need to articulate your views clearly. And as soon as possible. As
noble as it seems to a bloodthirsty young lycanthrope, a fight over yourself
and your fate would be ill advised. Who among these men would you see die?"
Harry sat back on his haunches blinking. He looked up at Amrys and rowled.
"He has some difficulty returning to human form." Amrys offered, to the wizard,
conveying Harry's meaning. "It normally takes hours for him to do it."
"Harry. You don't have hours. You have now." Snape insisted. "Many times in the
past you said you couldn't do something until you had to. You must do this
now." His dark eyes traveled over the two groups facing off against each other,
hackles raised. "Now is *not* the time to fail."
Harry looked also. He saw the fiercely protective Graeme, the calm and yet
ready to battle Amrys, he saw the tall regal form of the were-leopard king,
Lucius, *his* own Chosen, the man he Chose to love. He tried to imagine one of
them hurt seriously, or dead, and fighting was suddenly the last thing he
wanted to do.
His attention wandered over to the other defiant group. The were-wolves. To
Tambyn who he was really not liking much at all, to Remus, who had sheltered
and protected him and taught him a lot about DADA, had been a friend of sorts,
almost an uncle or older brother those times when the much traveled Sirius was
gone. Then he looked at Sirius. His godfather. A man he loved, in a different
way than he loved Lucius, but one he couldn't bear to see hurt. Merlin! He had
no choice.
Tambyn was the only one Harry didn't care about, in fact he wanted to hurt the
man himself. He tried for half a second to understand where the king of the
wolves was coming from, his point of view, deciding it was too much to ask of
himself at the moment. Everyone else, even Snape, who he had always mistrusted;
Harry didn't want to see any of them hurt.
He nodded his furry head. He had to change back to deal with this. But, then he
was stumped. All the men in the room were watching him. And he had no idea what
to do. Talk about performance anxiety, he thought. He looked from face to face
for help in solving his dilemma.
"Take a deep breath, Harry. It is just like any other spell. Visualize what you
want, and go there." Remus offered from across the room. Snape smiled a tight
little smile of approval.
Harry nodded again and moved so the members of the pride were between himself
and the were-wolves, then he sat down and concentrated. Be human, he thought.
Be human, now. You must be human. And that was all it took. He felt the change
back flow over him effortlessly.
And he was human. In a tattered nightshirt. Sitting on Remus Lupin's floor.
With everyone's eyes on him. Most of the eyes pleased and impressed. Sirius'
pain filled, telling Harry as clearly as speech that the older man felt
betrayed, felt Harry had rejected him. And the gaze of the were-wolf king. They
frightened Harry. The were filled with a consuming hunger. And lust.
***** Chapter 54 *****
Chapter 54
 
Mantheer was worried. He lay one hand over Draco's brow. The fever was growing
despite the potions Professor Snape had left for Draco to drink. He had poured
them down the boy's throat precisely on time in exactly the right amounts. But,
Draco had developed a fever that was rising rapidly. Mantheer had grown
increasingly concerned. Especially when he could not contact the Potion's
Master, or the king, the second, or the third. None of them knew of Draco's
deterioration.
Kaithas had come to assess the situation. He cast his healing spells and for a
short while Draco had rested. He had not improved. It was plain there was more
than simple healing needed here. Lycanthropes healed well, quickly, often in
minutes if they changed forms. Kaithas' skills were tailored to the group he
treated most often. Not to a human. He was not what Draco needed.
Finally, Yaji had taken off to find the professor, Kaithas in tow. Mantheer
refused to leave Draco's side. He undressed and climbed into the furs with him,
holding him close as he shivered. He'd washed the wounds, soaking them in the
king's bathing pool, he thought the soaking seemed to help, but it did not heal
him completely. The youth had slept for a time, now he was stirring restlessly
once more. All was not well. Mantheer would not relax until Snape was found,
and the Mother was cured.
Draco let out a tiny moan of discomfort, tossing and turning. Mantheer leaned
down, stroking his face.
"What is it?" He rumbled deep in his broad chest. "Are you in pain? Am I
hurting you?"
"C-c-c-cold." Draco stuttered, teeth chattering. Mantheer pulled the furs over
him, though it was too hot in the room already. He reached over for a glass of
water. Held it to Draco's mouth.
"Drink." The water was cool, but not chilly, Draco drank it gratefully, teeth
rattling the edge. He was very thirsty. Mantheer set the empty glass aside.
Smoothing the sweat damp hair from the young man's flushed face. He gently
licked the soft skin. Seeking to provide comfort. Draco was burning hot to the
touch.
Mantheer gathered him up, headed for the bathing pool. It would clean out the
wounds and reduce his temperature. It would have to suffice until help arrived.
 
Kaithas' scan had located Snape back at Hogwarts. He and Yaji had gone to the
office of the Headmaster. The urgency of their mission meant they could not
shun his help. He had mercifully listened and rapidly concluded that Snape was
the answer.
Dumbledore, covered neck to floor in his voluminous, violently colored robes
led the two were-leopards swiftly to the rooms of Remus Lupin and inside. The
door, barred against all intrusion, could not keep the old wizard at bay. He
waved his wand as they approached and the wards all faded away, the door
creaking open.
Everyone in the room whirled around, fangs bared if they had them. Dumbledore
raised his wand in warning and every man in the room took a step backwards from
the implied threat, with the single exception of Severus Snape. Graeme
interposing himself between the new threat and the Chosen.
"Gentlemen. You have an emergency." The elderly man said, looking from face to
face over the rim of his glasses. "I suggest you postpone this discussion until
another time. Kaithas." He nodded at the Seer and turned on his heel, moving
down the hall and back to his office. They watched him go, then whirled back to
what they had been doing before, staring suspiciously at each other.
Yaji immediately assessed the situation, interposed himself between his fellow
pride members and the were-wolves. He flexed his arms, showing off his massive,
well honed physique, even not knowing exactly what had happened in the room, he
sensed when a display was needed. He was nearly as large as Tambyn and he had
many more years of fighting under his belt. He could not be dismissed lightly
as an opponent. Not even by a king.
The shift of strength in the room was palpable. Tambyn would not risk an attack
now. He could not win a physical confrontation. Before, despite the numbers,
there had been a slim chance of success. He growled in frustration. He was
beginning to think of Harry as one of his wolves. His to have by right, to
possess and to protect from the greedy were-leopards who had snatched him
unfairly from his destiny. Harry Potter, in Tambyn's view, should have been a
were-wolf, no question about it. The boy was clever, spirited and above all
courageous.
The one of the new were-leopards was a Seer. Tambyn watched the man
thoughtfully. The Seers were outside the usual ranking of dominance. They were
men and women apart, no wise king challenged them lightly.
The Seer went to the side of Professor Snape speaking urgently. The Potion's
Master seemed caught in a quandary. He looked at the young-ling, Harry, asked
more questions of the Seer, then appeared to make a decision. After a quick
word to Lucius, he left the room at a run.
The presence of the Seer had given Tambyn an inspiration. He growled louder to
draw attention to himself. Once everyone was looking his way, he spoke.
"I will take this matter before the Seer's Council." He said decisively.
"It is not a matter for the Seers." Lucius raised his brows. In his opinion the
pack had no claim, and it was not a matter of law.
"It *is* a question of law. Is the law followed by his guardian, a member of my
pack paramount, or is the law of the leopard's pride, of which he should never
have been a member." Tambyn disagreed. "I will ask for their ruling."
"What is he talking about?" Harry murmured to the two men flanking him. "Why
can't I just say I want to go with the pride and Lucius? That should be enough
for all of you. I am old enough to make my own decisions."
"You are still a kitten." Amrys said to him, pulling him against his body in a
firm hug. Harry squirmed, but didn't pull away. Graeme diverted his attention
from the offended rebuttal he was about to deliver to Amrys.
"The Seer's Council. They decide on all matters of law, they are the final
arbiters on such matters." Graeme ground out. "Their rulings can not be denied,
nor appealed. They must be obeyed." Harry frowned harder, Amrys' ruffling of
his hair doing little to soothe him.
Tambyn pinned the Seer with his stern gaze. "You, Seer, will you convey my
claim to the Council, as you are bound by honor to do?"
Kaithas was surprised to have the request made by one not of his pride. He
looked serious. "What is your grievance, wolf?"
"The boy," Tambyn pointed to Harry. "He was meant to be a wolf, not a leopard.
His guardian lays claim to him, as do I. It is his destiny to be were-wolf. I
seek the Council's ruling on the matter. And that they will remove the taint
from him so he may be changed into a wolf. As was always meant to be."
Kaithas considered the near order from the wolf-king. His eyes narrowed. That
explained the atmosphere of violence filling the room. He shook his head. "I
cannot, not and serve my pride. He is truly Chosen to my king. Have your own
Seer serve you in this."
"Very well." Tambyn acquiesced, reluctantly. "You will not block me?"
"It is the right of any lycanthrope to seek a ruling on a matter of law, when
the law is the basis of the question. I am not sure I see the reason for your
claim, but I do not deny you your right to approach them." Kaithas said
blandly. "I believe the Chosen was fated to be where he is now."
"No." Sirius called from the other side of the room. "He was meant to be with
us. So I can protect him. He belongs to the wolves. You'll soon see, Harry.
Come with us, I will show you." Sirius was still struggling against the hold
his king and Remus had on him.
Harry was growing agitated. He shook his head, avoiding looking at his
godfather, hearing Remus' calming voice trying to bring Sirius under control.
"Why is he doing this? I mean, I understand Sirius, he is my godfather, he
wants me to be with him. But Tambyn? I don't..." Harry let his voice fade on
the inquiry.
Graeme looked down at him. "Do you not? He is a king. He seeks power for
himself, for his kingdom, for his people. Our king Lucius seeks power, watches
for it, opportunities to add to his base. All kings seek the same. It is only
their method of attaining power that differs."
Harry stared. "I can't believe you are saying that. He wants to force me to go
with him! He wants to have sex with me."
"In time he will be a great king." Amrys said from his place next to Harry, not
denying what Harry said. He put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "He has
nothing against you. He merely looks for what will enhance his rule. He sets
his sights high, and goes after what he wants without hesitation. He would bind
you to his pack with his own flesh as anchor."
"How can forcing someone into his pack help his rule? How can raping me help
his cause?" Harry seethed. All these men were difficult to understand, not just
the werewolves. How could they admire Tambyn?
Graeme shrugged. Amrys rubbed Harry's back. Lucius came to stand next to them,
sweeping Harry up into his arms. Harry sqeaked in surprise.
***** Chapter 55 *****
Chapter 55
 
Lucius lifted Harry up into his arms, embracing him with a fierceness the young
man didn't expect, but reveled in. He tugged off the last tatters of the
nightshirt, flinging them aside. Yaji took off his outer robe and Lucius
wrapped it around his Chosen, glaring at the others, the were-wolves, who had
looked at his love. Harry gulped. He knew what the look in Lucius' eyes meant.
His king was back to ignoring the presence of the were-wolves, intent on his
Chosen and reasserting his claim. Tambyn's challenge for Harry had angered him,
a direct method of establishing his continued ownership was in order. He gently
tasted Harry, teeth denting the tender flesh, not quite breaking the skin.
Every bone in Harry's body melted. He shivered, arching into the bite, eyes
drifting closed, heart pounding in his chest. Lucius growled. His. The Chosen
was his. He licked at the sweet, succulent flesh.
"My king." Graeme whispered, interrupting. "Your son, Draco, we must attend to
him." He reminded the man, who was showing his teeth to the wolves.
Lucius nodded once, still carrying Harry, he turned and left the rooms. The
were-leopards followed their king and his Chosen. Yaji hissed at the stupefied
were-wolves who were still in the room, still watching. Tambyn's face was
furious.
Amrys led the way to the dungeon rooms. In less than one minute they had
apparated back to the Manor and into the chambers of the king. Draco, flushed
and restless lay tossing on the furs.
Lucius set Harry down on his feet and approached his son, Harry close behind.
Yaji had beat them all to the Mother of the heir's side. Severus Snape was in
the midst of administering a potion, pausing to give them a withering glare.
"Stay out of my way." He snapped impatiently. "It is poison. Your guard has
said that it was common for your sister to employ it. If I had been told of her
inclinations, I would have looked for it, and started preventive treatment much
sooner."
"The heir?" Draco gasped. "How is the baby?"
Amrys pushed his way through the crowd around the bed and crawled up next to
Draco. He lay his cheek against the young man's belly and listened with his
acute hearing, to the tiny life deep inside Draco's body. "He is with us." He
said. And he stayed there, ear to the boy's stomach, monitoring the child
inside.
Not even Snape tried to move him. He looked up at Lucius, who inclined his
head. "He is the father, the Sire of the heir." The king confirmed.
Snape was shocked at the degree of loss he felt. So, the were-leopard second
was taken. Well, probably it was for the best. He concentrated on healing
Draco. Envy was such a useless emotion. He'd managed to avoid it for most of
his adult life.
He was too old to change anyway, Snape thought. If not precisely happy, he was
at least used to being celibate. No need to change that at this late date. He
gave the paste he was mixing a few more stirs, then leaned forward and began to
smear it on the wounds. It dried quickly, adhereing in protective sheets to the
lacerations.
"How is he? How great is the risk to the child?" Lucius asked, pointedly.
"There is little risk now that I know what we are dealing with. If I had known
earlier, there would have been no trouble at all. The poison is a common and
not terribly lethal one. Easy to obtain and use for the unskilled," His voice
was contemptous, "but it is very uncomfortable. Fevers and chills, cramping and
occasionally vomiting if the diagnosis is not made in a timely manner. I must
say, this sister of yours, I am glad not to have met her."
"She was a nasty piece of work." Graeme said, harshly. "She deserved to die.
Even if she had only done this. But, she had many more crimes she was
responsible for."
Snape sat back, scanned Draco with his wand and announced he was done with the
treatment. "I will stay until he has shown improvement. I think it best to be
certain there are no more surprises."
"Then it is time to move him to his room." Lucius said. "Get him settled down
to rest. Yaji, Mantheer you will remain with him." Lucius waved his hand,
watching as his son was moved.
Yaji gathered Draco up in his arms and carried him down the long hall and to
his own rooms.
The young man was settled on the bed, the fire lit. The furs were re-arranged
and Mantheer left to bring food for their night meal. They fed him by hand,
Snape noticed. As parents tending a child, only not...exactly...that. Snape
blinked. There was a much more adult reverence, sensual appreciation to the
care. He looked down, fighting his urge to blush. Not parent and child at all.
Amrys had come with them and now curled up, once more resting his cheek on
Draco's tummy, listening to the distant heartbeat of the heir, his child. He
lay upside down, so his cheek was over Draco's belly button, and his golden
blond hair, mingled with the youth's pale silver/gold pubic hair. Amrys seemed
perfectly comfortable having the soft, bulky genitals resting against the top
of his head as he listened to the steady beat. And Draco made no protest at the
intimate touch.
Severus felt a sweat break out over his body. Very unprofessional he chided
himself.
They were stunningly beautiful together. The icily pale youth and the strong,
exquisitely formed man. The swell of those shoulders could steal your breath
away. The long fingered hand spread on one slim hip, securing it. The long
lashes, dark gold resting on the tanned cheek in a sweet cresent. All of it
paling next to the full lips, slightly parted, that drew the professor's eye.
He was powerless to look away. He nearly groaned his frustration. Why, oh why
now? Why this man? Why the man Draco was bound to? A man soon to be a father. A
man certainly not interested in a old, long nosed, decicdedly irritable and
irritatingly stubborn Potion's Master.
He moaned silently.
It was only hours later that he was able to relax, sitting on the edge of the
bed, watching the dozing were-leopards, and struggling to stay awake. Laying in
front of him, Amrys slept, ear still at Draco's stomach, Draco dozed as did the
huge guardians. Both of whom opened an eye when Snape got up , or moved, or
reached out to assess Draco during the night.
At last Severus was driven by fatigue to rest his eyes for a moment. He never
noticed when he sank down onto the bed and curled up behind Amrys to sleep, his
nose pressed into the musky, wonderfully masculine scented, golden hair. He
snuggled happily, never noticing that their limbs became entangled, or that he
was tightly spooned with the first male he had ever been this close to. He
sighed, tension ebbing away. He slept.
Snape woke to an almost inaudible thumping. Thump, thump, thump, it was coming
from behind him. He could sense it better than he could hear it. He craned his
neck to look over his shoulder. He frowned, more than half asleep.
"Just when," he thought muzzily, "Did I grow a tail?" It was a tail after all,
that was thumping contentedly on the bed behind him. And it did appear to be
attached somehow to him.
Severus Snape blinked at his fluffy, furry, golden blond tail. It was a nice
tail, as tails went. He just couldn't remember when he'd gotten one. Then he
felt the tiny movement between his legs, a flexing, subtle, almost not
noticeable. Yet, impossible to ignore. When men felt anything down there, they
noticed.
He opened his eyes all the way. He was up against a furry back, his hand was
trapped under the were-leopard's arm, resting over its sturdy chest, the
soothing rhythm of its heart beating under his palm. Warm and secure. He felt a
rush of...pleasure.
He finally realized it was *not* his tail, but Amrys' tail that thumped behind
him after threading its way between his legs, very close to his personal parts.
Parts which had responded most enthusiastically. He was erect, pressed into the
lower back of the were-leopard in front of him.
Snape began to carefully extricate himself. The last thing he needed was to
antagonize the very male, very dangerous leopard with his unwelcome attentions.
A leopard who's body and heart belonged to his patient, Draco Malfoy, soon to
be Mother of the heir, this were-cat's child.
He slid back lifting the leg that was on top and reaching down to move the
thick, soft, muscular tail out from where it shouldn't be. He almost jumped out
of his skin at the deep throated rumble of a purr that began as he wrapped his
fingers around the furry extremity.
He froze, feeling uncharacteristic uncertainty, and...excitement. His heart
raced in his chest, he was hyper-aware of his breath moving in and out of his
lungs, his skin was tingly. Amrys arched, the message absolutely unambiguous.
Pet. Me. Now.
Experimentally, Snape ran his supple fingers through the thick fur, marveling
at the superior texture. The purr grew louder, richer. The tail, still lodged
between his thighs, thumped harder. With predictable results on his own body.
He wondered, desperate to divert his attention, did cats wag their tails as
dogs did? He concluded that this one, at least, did. He continued, massaging up
the animal's flanks, encouraged by the pleasurable sounds the cat was making,
the long, sinuous stretches, the kitty-twitches. He was fascinated. He couldn't
stop. Not even knowing it was wrong of him to touch Draco's lover, slowed the
strokes.
The muscles under the fur-coat were large, strong, flexing in counter-point to
his ministrations. The big body was limp with ecstasy, massive head lolling
back against Severus. He caught a glimpse of gleaming fangs, eyes that were
half closed in drowsy bliss. And nothing could have halted his guilty hands
from seeking more. He sank them into the cat's ruff, into Amrys' neck fur and
scratched, sliding up behind the proud, triangular ears. The body in front of
his shuddered, the sound that came out was as close to a human moan as Snape
had ever heard from an animal. Uh, *were-animal*, he corrected himself. This
was driving him mad. However, stopping was out of the question.
He stroked the magnificent head, giving in to the urge to touch the long, stiff
whiskers. They were hard, inflexible shafts, and they moved forward as he
touched them, rubbing the rounded muzzle, over the broad nose, and to the warm,
wet nose. He let his finger tips graze the wetness, then moved up, stroking
with his precise, learned touch, around the closed eyes of the great cat, up
over the wide forehead.
It was impossible for Snape not to push his face into that silky fur. Breathing
deep to fill his senses with the musky scent that he recognized as the pride's
second. Amrys smelled like Amrys in either of his forms. The scent drove his
body to the edge, he was achingly aroused, and horribly conflicted. He clung to
the big body, forbidding himself to do more.
Amrys felt the body behind him go still. Smelled the uncertainty. He turned,
the change flickering over him as he did, so that by the time he faced the
black haired man, he was also in human guise.
"I must apologize," Snape managed to force out of his tight throat. "Draco..."
Amrys kissed the man. He licked his lips, and nipped at them, sliding his broad
flat tongue over them, into the warmth of the wizard's mouth. Herbs, and the
taste of the man himself, pleasant, arousing. His big hands slid down to grasp
the slender hips, pulling them closer, fitting them together. The pants, had to
go. A judicious application of a single, razor sharp claw took care of that.
They hung in tatters, the hips now bare, free to his fingers to explore, he
rubbed his palms over smooth, wonderfully smooth skin, pale as milk.
Severus Snape tried to regain control, tried to breathe calmly, tried to finish
his sentence, tried to tell Draco's man that he didn't, shouldn't, mustn't do
this. But speech was so overrated, he could do without it, he thought, as he
melted into the kiss. Slippery, wet. Perfect pressure, the suckling on his own
tongue, the slipping of the wet touches as the kiss went on and on.
Amrys bit his cheek, his mouth, soft bites, that sent a thrill down his spine
to...well...there. His erection surged, leaped, almost exploded, just from a
kiss. He groaned.
He was abruptly spilled onto his back, straddled by the bigger, stronger,
naked, magnificent golden were-leopard, the intense eyes locking onto his. They
stared at each other, measuringly. Snape panting, Amrys noticing.
Then they were closer, cheek to cheek, lips brushing. Severus gave in and let
his hands touch the deep chest, never had he seen a more perfect sculpture,
this one all the more wondrous being in living flesh. With frantic hunger he
explored, his mouth taken, ravaged, his erection, unashamedly naked, pressed up
to the throbbing, thrilling one of the man moving on top of him, sliding their
bodies together. He couldn't breathe, but all in all, he'd rather give up
breathing than the kiss that was stealing his reason. His head spun.
The throat clearing was repeated a second, then a third time, before Snape
registered it at all. Then he tore himself away from the kiss and stared at the
half amused face of Draco next to his. He sprang back, managing in a feat of
near magic to escape from under the body he wanted to have so damn badly. He
shivered at the draft, looking down in horror at his bared body, his impossible
to miss erection. He met his former student's light blue eyes in absolute
humiliation.
"Draco, I am so sorry." He said and fled. His hands barely managing to hold the
torn cloth over his privates.
Draco, feeling vastly improved from the night before, exchanged a wide-eyed
look with Amrys.
"What was that about?" Draco complained, plaintively. "I just wanted to rib him
a little."
Amrys got up out of the bed, ran a soothing hand over Draco's mussed hair, and
followed the fleeing man. This, was not over. He wanted the man. And Amrys was
set on getting him.
***** Chapter 56 *****
Chapter Notes
     It seems unlikely I will upload all the remaining chapters in one go.
     But I will do my best. The fic was written in 2004-2005, around the
     same time as my other HP fic.
Chapter 56
 
Lucius Malfoy was livid. In his hand he held the scroll announcing the arrival
of the Seer's Council in only four hours. There was little time to prepare the
pride for the visit and as for Harry, he'd have preferred to have weeks if not
months to try to make him understand what this invasion meant.
Tambyn had not wasted any time in presenting his claim to the council. Lucius
was going to have to endure the Seers. Make it clear that Harry belonged here.
He was not a were-wolf by heritage after all. Sirius Black was his godfather,
not his father. He shook his head. And for what reason should the Council
expect were-cats to acknowledge were-wolf laws?
Lucius stood, slamming the scroll onto his desk and stormed out of the room.
Members of the pride fairly leapt out of his way as he strode down the hallway.
It was not so simple as logic. Worryingly the Seers found connections that
ordinary lycanthropes didn't see. Regrettably, the few times he'd encountered
them, or been around to hear their decisions, he'd been shocked by the
assessments, and yet, he'd eventually understood that they were right. He
wanted to not be shocked by this decision.
He kept up the pace, his long stride eating up the distance between himself and
his Chosen. Harry was the most important part of all of this. He had to play
his part flawlessly.
 
Harry let out a scream when he was seized from behind and lifted off of his
feet, his cup clattering to the floor. He sensed almost at once who it was. And
if that weren't enough the view of the back-end below his head would have told
him, oh, and the long, curly hair. Graeme was bearing him out of the library
and down the wide corridor.
"Hush. The king is in need of you. The Seers will arrive this evening." Graeme
patted his thigh, holding him firmly, as he made his way towards their
destination, not at all inconvenienced by his burden. Harry stabilized himself
by placing hands on Graeme's waist.
"I can walk, you know." Harry said dryly. Hanging over Graeme's shoulder was
not uncomfortable, just undignified. The muscle padded shoulder provided some
cushioning. Graeme had a habit of doing little things like this, probably
seeing a chance to teach him the proper place of a kitten, Harry thought
sourly. He was learning to not mind it so much. Being touched. Being handled.
At one time, not long ago, he would have fought this kind of handling. Now he
endured it. And, honestly, at times he enjoyed the attention.
"If you walk then I can not carry you. I want to carry you." Graeme said
reasonably. His silky hair flowed over Harry's bare arms and face. Nice hair,
really soft, it smelled pretty good, Harry thought.
"Graeme. What will the Seers do?" He asked. That was what was on his mind after
all. And it probably had something to do with this little caveman routine.
Carrying him off to have a talk. He could sense it. He nearly sighed before he
caught himself. If he sighed, Graeme would know he'd figured it out. He needed
the tiny advantage that Graeme not knowing provided.
"They will rule on whether you may remain with us, if they discover it is a
point of law that determines that." The third told him. Harry felt the tensing
of the big muscles underneath his stomach.
"Law? Is it a point of law? What law could possibly cover this kind of thing?"
Harry wondered, aloud. "Ins't this kind of unusual? What is going to happen
when they get here?"
"Your godfather has laid claim to you. His position, supported by were-wolf
law, is that his permission was needed to change you. He did not give it.
Therefore, accident or not, we have no right to you. Further, Tambyn questions
if there was an accident at all. He thinks your change was arranged, not an
accident, no matter the evidence."
"How can that be? Professor Trelawny was behind the attacks!" Harry protested,
bracing himself as Graeme wove in and out of a small crowd. Harry heard Fred
and George laughing, but in the distance, not at his position, he determined.
"Your Divination Professor worked in collusion with Lucius' sister." Graeme
reminded the boy. "If one is not familiar with her history of treachery, it is
easy to believe the attack was arranged."
Harry stayed silent, his confusion stopping the flow of words until Graeme
spoke again.
"When the seers arrive you will remain by the king's side. You will not do
anything that he does not command. I will watch over you. You will do as I tell
you. The Seers will not tolerate your sharp tongue, kitten. If you can not
control it I will bind your mouth and silence it for you." There was a warning
in his tone, one Harry knew was not an empty threat. He swallowed hard.
"Can they do that? Make me go? Force me to sleep with Tambyn?" Harry asked, not
managing to stop the tremor from finding a way into his voice.
"Yes." The tall man said. "They have the power and the right to make that kind
of declaration."
"I don't want to." Harry said. "I want to stay with Lucius. Here. Does that
count for anything?"
"I know what you want. But they will rule as they see true. The law means more
to them than your feelings. They are apart from the emotion and desires of the
situation." He seemed to pause in consideration after that statement.
"What?" Harry asked. Meaning, what has made you doubt those words? Graeme
didn't respond.
"I won't go. They can't make me." Harry said after a few minutes. "Where are
you taking me, anyway?"
"And how do you think you can stop them?" Graeme asked half curious, half
skeptical. "I am going to show you where we will meet with them."
"Do I have to be there?" Harry grumbled. He'd found that bracing his hands on
Graeme's hips worked better than at his waist. But...it was disturbing in an
odd way to feel the play of those slender, strong hips moving under his hands.
Oh, crap, not a good time for this to come up.
"Yes." The man said in return. "You will be there."
"I just won't go." Harry said to Graeme's back. Graeme patted his butt. "I mean
it Graeme. If they tell me to go to Tambyn, I won't. Don't think I'm your
little kitten saying this. I mean it. I'll..."
Graeme slapped him, harder. "You will behave for now, kitten." He ordered. He
swung Harry around dizzyingly and plopped him down on the fur layered rock
throne that was the centerpiece of the Arena. "They will apparate here. You
will be at Lucius' feet. Obedient. With Troy and Fred. The other kittens will
be nearby but the three of you will be at his feet. And you will obey him.
Whatever he asks of you."
Harry scowled. He wanted to be the only one at Lucius' feet. It was bad enough
to know his lover kept two more kittens at his beck and call but he didn't want
it displayed so obviously. That would make it seem as if he was OK with it.
Graeme took Harry's face in his hand, holding him firmly, but not painfully.
His dark blue eyes bored into Harry's emerald ones. His thumb smoothed over
Harry's cheek. His expression was unyielding.
"It is a reflection on the entire pride. How you obey your king, the man who
has named you Chosen. If he can not control you here, in the Arena, before
outsiders, then what claim can he truly have on you? What asset are you to him?
So. No defiance today. None. If he bids you to do a thing you will do it. No.
Matter. What. That. Is. Do you understand me?" His voice rang with both menace
and promise of dire consequences. "My king has my loyalty and if any seeks to
harm him, even his Chosen, I will protect him."
Harry gulped. "I won't hurt him. I love him."
Graeme smirked. "And if he asked you to go to the bed of one of the Seers? To
give them the pride's hospitality, as is our custom for long centuries?"
Harry flushed, brows drawing down. "That is not the same...."
"Yes. It. Is." Graeme snarled. "If he asks it of you there will be a good
reason. And you will obey. For the honor of the pride and your king."
"No." Harry said. Gritting his teeth, his face stony and stubborn. "I won't. I
won't let anyone else do that to me. Only Lucius."
"God. You have not learned. Not a god-damned thing." Graeme spit out, thrusting
Harry away from himself, hard. Harry fell sprawling back on the throne in a
flailing tangle of limbs.
 
Lucius stopped outside the doorway into the Arena. Listening to Graeme's words,
and to Harry's. He shook his head. The kitten was stubborn, loyal, ultimately
honorable. He just couldn't find a way to do what was required of him. What
might be required of a king's Chosen. Lucius cursed. It was his fault. He had
not made certain Harry learned. Harry was not of the pride because of how
differently he had been treated.
Lucius strode into the Arena, startling the two occupants.
"Harry. Graeme. With me. Now." He ordered, the frown on his face not inviting
questions.
Once he was in his private rooms he turned to them. Pointing to the bed. "No
arguments, Harry. Undressed and up there." He watched as Harry hesitated.
Graeme glared at the hesitation, baring his fangs.
Lucius sighed. He needed more time than he had. Much more time.
***** Chapter 57 *****
Chapter 57
 
Lucius moved up onto the bed. Harry took one look at him and dropped his gaze
at seeing the fire in the other man's eyes. He took a deep, cleansing breath
while he prepared himself for what ever was coming.
"On your belly." Again the command was not harsh, but impossible to disobey.
Harry stretched out, head turned towards his king, very aware of the other man,
Graeme, still in the room. Harry saw Lucius transfer his gaze to Graeme. He
nodded his gleaming sliver/gold haired head. The bed dipped and Harry shot
forward, going for the far side of the furs. He was not going to allow that to
happen.
Lucius' stopped him. A big hand, an unbreakable grip at his ankle, dragging him
back. Lucius' silvery-grey gaze met his. The shared look somehow too intense,
as if Lucius wanted inside of him, inside of his mind, his thoughts.
"Do you deny my claim? Do you defy me?" Lucius asked, almost conversationally.
But Harry heard the undertone. The warning not to lie, to be utterly and
completely truthful. He bit his lip.
"No. I don't deny it. But I thought we agreed...." Lucius' hand covered his
mouth. Harry froze in place, green eyes gone huge.
"You will answer yes and no." Lucius said. Then removed his hand. Harry's lips
were pressed tightly together, fighting the urge to speak. "Will you obey me?"
Harry frowned. Yes and no weren't adequate to reply to the question. His eyes
begged. Lucius set him aside, freeing him from the hold that had restrained
him, stood up, moved away.
"I renounce our bond. Take him away from me." Lucius said quietly in a hollow
voice to Graeme, ignoring the youth, as if Harry was already gone. Harry lay on
the bed for a split second then launched himself after the tall man. Instead of
Lucius he met Graeme in mid leap.
"No!" He screamed. "You can't! It is not fair!" But, Lucius never stopped,
disappearing out the door. Graeme held him tight, defeating all his attempts to
follow. Harry screamed again. "No! Why?!"
"Stop it!" Graeme hissed. "It is what you have said you wanted. You are
Unmarked, Unclaimed and Unchosen. You can go to your godfather if you wish. Or
to the wizarding world. The king no longer holds you here. He will tell the
Seers when they arrive."
"NO!" Harry shouted again. "I don't want that! I never said I did! I just don't
want to follow those laws you keep talking about, the ones that make no sense!"
"So go. If you don't wish to follow our laws, then leave here. You have made it
clear that you will not obey our king. Then be banished, you shall never have
to follow our rules any longer." The copper haired man said.
Harry was paler than milk. He couldn't breathe. There was a crushing pain in
his chest. "I thought he loved me," he said in a tiny broken voice. "My God, I
thought he loved me." He dug into Graeme's arms with hard, desperate fingers.
"Idiot." Graeme said. "He did and *does* love you. He will always love you.
But, you have rejected him. He is a king. He cannot accept your constant
defiance and rule. The pride is his life, his life belongs to us. You have
refused him, belittled him, defied him in front of his people, and now you
claim you are the injured party." Graeme shook his head.
Harry wept, resuming his struggle to get up and find Lucius. "He can't do this!
I love him. I won't leave."
"Listen to me. It is done. It is over. Return to your human life. Don't look
back. Time will heal the pain. You are young." Graeme tried to offer what
comfort he could. He did not let the boy up or permit him to follow.
"I can't. I can't leave. I love him. I can't live without him." Harry cried
out.
"Stop." Graeme turned his face, and looked him in the eye. "No more dramatics.
If you can not live without him, why have you done this to him? This is your
choice, you have made it over and over. He has given you every chance he could
and more."
"I just wanted him to..." The young man began, then had to halt, his eyes
overflowing with bitter, salty tears. Throat too tight to finish.
"To what? To stop being my king? Amrys' king? Mantheer's king? Tanith's king?
Draco's king? Which of us should give up our king so he can change until you
are satisfied with him?"
"You are trying to make me change! How is that different?" Harry sobbed. "I
never asked to be a were-leopard."
"We did not change you. Have you forgotten that?" The third asked more gently
than before. Holding the destroyed young man in his arms. "We would have talked
to you, told you what to expect. Most often when a human is changed without
sanction, they are killed. They are not put through this. And discipline is
maintained. The pride is protected."
Harry screamed again. And again. And again. Graeme licked the tears off his
face. Murmured to him. Held him.
***** Chapter 58 *****
Chapter 58
 
Lucius walked as far as his desk and collapsed into the chair. He wished he
could go further, out of earshot, but his legs wouldn't bear his weight. He had
to stay here and listen to the heart-wrenching sobs of the boy who had been his
Chosen. He tried to stand again. He was stronger than this.
He heard every word Graeme was saying, all that Harry said. He heard it and he
felt pain working its way through him. Was he wrong? Had he lived his life
based on an assumption of nobility, or honor that was wrong? Had he done wrong
by not killing the boy in the first place? Had he been motivated by something
more than selfishness, or was all of this because he wanted something he did
not deserve, was not meant to have? Was this situation all caused by his own
greed, his need to possess the boy he had called his Chosen, at the expense of
the pride?
He fought his own tears, but lost, he sobbed every bit as hard as the young-
ling in his rooms laying in Graeme's arms. He was to blame. He wanted love. He
had manufactured and forced it. He had not allowed it to develop naturally in
its own time. He had wanted, desired and taken. And he expected it to work.
Love blew up in his face. Love tore out his heart. Love ruined him with its
burning touch. Yet he would give nearly everything to have it back. Not
everything, but so very close.
He dropped his head onto his hands. He was king. There was no one ready to
follow in his place. He had to rule, until the child his son was carrying was
old enough to rule. Then he might step aside. Then he might have another
choice. Then maybe, if the god's decreed it, he would have time for love. But
not one like this. He didn't understand how this pain could fail to kill. Yet,
he was alive, breathing, hurting.
In the room Harry screamed, again, again, again. Lucius felt each like a knife
through his belly. He fell to his hands and knees at the first scream, the
second had him heaving, vomiting into his waste can, by the third he lifted his
head and howled his torture and his pain to the skies.
Every lycanthrope in the Manor stopped what they were doing. Eyes wide and
horrified.
Amrys started towards the king's rooms.
Kaithas, from the other end of the Manor where the Seer's Council had just
apparated in looked up and felt every drop of his blood freeze at the ringing
sound.
Severus Snape, sitting at Draco's side, felt his hair stand on end. Draco fell
back into his cushioned furs. Mantheer and Yaji both reaching for the boy.
The sound went on and on. Anguish without end. The first Seer put his hand out
to touch Kaithas.
"There is such pain here. Loss, and failure. What has happened? Why does the
pride's king mourn?" His voice was a mere whisper of sound, roughened, as if
forced out through a damaged throat. His veil shifted in the windless room,
carried on unseen currents, currents fueled by the king's lament.
Kaithas opened his mouth to answer, but no answer was there. None he could
give.
"Take me to him. Your pride is losing its king." The Seer said, motioning for
the others to stay back.
Kaithas felt a fear greater than any he had ever known rip through him. Lucius
was his king. The only one he remembered as an adult within the pride. All he
knew of kingship, he had learned by watching and admiring the man. He had seen
the sacrifice and love Lucius had for every person he ruled. They could not be
losing him, not now. The Seer's touch reminded him where they were.
"I will lead you." The seer said in his ruined voice. Kaithas let the man guide
him through the halls. "If you can not find the way."
Amrys burst through the group of lycanthropes gathering outside the king's
rooms. Even now they would not go inside without the king's leave. He ran
inside. Lucius was on the floor, howling, arms wrapped around his stomach.
Amrys tore the sheilding arms aside, looking for a wound that was not there. He
grabbed the blond hair to either side of Lucius' face, shook him.
"My king! My king! What is wrong? What has happened?" Amrys fought to keep his
tone level and in control, but it rose with every question. The howl from the
king's throat grew and grew.
A scream tore out of the inner rooms. Amrys leaped to his feet facing the
doorway, the change rippling over his back, his fur bristling on end. He stayed
human but for the fur on his back, the clawed paws, ready to defend his king.
No one came out, he charged in to the sleeping room, into the place he took his
own rest for the majority of his life.
Graeme was on the bed curled around the small dark haired boy from which the
cries echoed. He lifted his own shocked eyes to Amrys'. This was not expected.
This was too much more. This was death.
"Where is Lucius?" Graeme asked, choked. "Find him!"
Amrys wasted no time on speech, he whirled returning to his king, lifted Lucius
into his arms, bearing him back into the room and up onto the furs. The sharp
scent of vomit filled his sensitive nostrils. He cringed, but lowered the man
to the bed next to the sobbing boy. He wiped away the sour fluids. The second
and the third looked at each other. Not knowing what else to do.
Harry cried out and Lucius flinched, trying to turn away, succeeding only in
burrowing into his second's embrace, claws sinking deep. He let out a mournful
howl, thankfully spent, not so loud and penetrating, but still rich and filled
with pain. Harry convulsed in Graeme's arms, writhing at the sound. Raking at
Graeme's skin.
***** Chapter 59 *****
Chapter 59
 
"Push them together if they are too stubborn to find one another on their own."
The raspy voice said.
Amrys and Graeme startled at the intrusion, whirling to confront the unknown
man standing next to the bed. A stranger in full veil and robes stood nearby,
clothing whipping around his head and body as if he stood in a gale. He waved a
hand at them. "It is their destiny to be joined. So just shove them together."
He clapped his hands sharply.
Graeme was first to recover. He slid Harry out of his own arms and up against
Lucius. Harry glommed onto the man like a leech burying his face in the wide
chest. He stopped crying. Lucius stopped shaking, he sighed as if from the
depths of his soul. He held the smaller body tight.
"Why have you done this?" The Seer asked. "You know better. Lucius Malfoy, king
of the were-leopard's pride. You know that you can not cast aside a true
Chosen, not one you are bound to in truth. Yet, you got frustrated, hurt, you
tried to do just that. Foolish. Anger doesn't sever this kind of bond." The
veiled man leaned closer as he spoke. The edge of his veils whipped out over
the men in the bed, finding Harry's face, caressing it like a hand.
Lucius buried his own face in the raven locks, squeezing his eyes shut. He did
not reply. Harry, clutching him, inhaling his scent, made no effort to answer.
His hands were full of silken, shining sliver hair, mouth open on the bared
skin of the king's chest.
"Who did you fall in love with, silly kitten?" The Seer's voice was just for
Harry, it stroked him, asked, then made it OK to reply, taking a way the vise
that was closing down the young man's throat only an instant previous.
"With Lucius." Harry muttered, not believing he was really being held. He kept
looking up to reassure himself. He felt someone behind him, petting him, he
knew that person, also loved him, but the one he needed, the one he'd lost, he
was here again. And Harry wouldn't, couldn't let him go.
"With the cat who is king." The Seer agreed, softly. "Why try to change him
then, if he is the one you fell in love with?"
"I can't share him!" Harry exclaimed. Trying to press himself closer to the big
body wanted so badly.
"He is a king, there will always be others demanding his time, his attention,
his love. Do they deserve him any less?" The voice was all around him, not
threatening but impossible to avoid. The veils floated over him.
"I...I don't want him to sleep with them. Have sex with them." Harry admitted.
He had never tried to hide how he felt. He looked up and met Amrys' eyes over
the shoulder of the king. Would he cast Amrys out of Lucius' bed if he could?
No. Amrys belonged there. His presence was not troubling. He liked going to
sleep surrounded with security and warmth. He liked having Graeme and Amrys
with him and Lucius.
"It is his nature. The nature of *this* beast. He has been this way far longer
than you have been alive, little kitten." The Seer seemed to agree, Harry heard
encouragement in his tone. Harry panicked a little. "Why are you so afraid?"
"He is trying to change me!" Harry burst out. "He says he will give me away,
that I can not say no."
"You don't know how to be what you are. You have changed. Into something
entirely new. You are a were-leopard, not a human any longer. Not just a
wizard. He was a king, still is a king. Do you see the difference? You are new.
He is not." OK, so that made some sense, but still....
"They say I have to do everything they say." Harry whined just a little, hands
holding hard, in case expressing his grievance might mean someone tried to pull
Lucius out of his arms.
"Obey the laws." The Seer agreed. "The laws are the rules for living in the
pride. They are your rules now, Harry. If you want to belong to the pride. If
you want to stay here where you are surrounded by caring. If you want to stay
where you will always be needed."
"But why...." Harry began.
"No. That question is not the one you need to ask. Ask, why not?"
"I am jealous of them. Of Troy, of Fred, a little, but mostly of Troy."
"So. This is about sex?"
"I want him to love me. Make love only to me." Harry asserted.
"Only you? He can love no one else?"
"No. That is not what I mean. He can love who he wishes, just not...have sex
with them." The last words came out in a rush. "Just that one thing."
"Just that one thing? If he does that one thing, you will obey him? You will
return to your place sleeping with the other kittens, you will submit to those
more dominant than yourself?" The Seer inquired, curious.
"No. I can't. I am stronger than they are. I am not a kitten, not really. I
fought..." He stopped abruptly. He hated it when others talked about his
destiny and the defeat of Voldemort. As if it was the one thing and only thing
he had been born to do. As if his usefulness was now over. Snuggling his
flushed face into Lucius. The king ran a warm hand over his back, their hearts
beat one next to the other. Harry could feel the pulsing beat through his
chest. The Seer was silent for a time.
Harry sank into the feel of Lucius. The strength, the power, the goodness, the
man himself.
"Might makes right. Might means you have nothing else to learn?" The Seer said,
as if pondering the question out loud.
"No!" Harry well remembered the dark wizard who had thought might was right.
Who had offered him a place to rule by his side. Who had asked from him,
everything, his value, his integrity, his loyalty, in exchange for power. For
might. He shivered and felt warmth move closer to his back, felt a new touch on
his cheek. Opened his eyes to Amrys' gentle touch on his face, the veils.
"He loves you." Graeme's voice whispered over the dampness on his face. Amrys
ruffled his hair, and Lucius...Lucius held him tight. Graeme finished his
thought. "And you love him."
"He won't want me! Not if he can have all of them!" Harry said, the words
barely making it out of his constricted throat.
"He will always want you." The three voices spoke as one.
"You are bound. Deep to the soul. You are his first and only Chosen. There will
be none after you, not for this king. You need to be joined. He must be the
king. You must be the Chosen. He will love others, as will you, but you will
always have each other." The Seer said. And Harry, suddenly, believed it was
true.
Then the lone silent voice was heard.
"I love you." Lucius said. "I can not be without you. But I can not be king,
living as you would have me live."
***** Chapter 60 *****
Chapter 60
 
The small figure of the Seer sat on the bed. Not joining the embrace, not
touching any of them, not Harry, Lucius, Graeme or Amrys. Just settling
himself, adjusting his concealing robes. His hands, light brown, smoothly
folded on his lap after he finished the fussing.
"A good start." He said with satisfaction. "Now, let's go over why we have been
called here."
"But, the other Seers, shouldn't they be here?" Graeme asked the man. "If you
are going to make a ruling?"
"Oh my, NO! Not really. They can hear us, if they want to. Besides, they are
eating! There is pie! They wouldn't thank me for pulling them away. Tambyn, the
were-wolf king, has said that his wolf, Sirius Black, lays claim to you, Harry
Potter. Why would he say that?"
"He is my godfather. But he doesn't own me!" Harry said, very firmly.
The Seer nodded under his veils. "Possession. Yes. How does the law speak on
possession? Do we own other people?" His fingers rolled the floating fabric of
his robes between them as they rose and fell like a fine mist. He waited. And
waited.
"Well, Harry?" The Seer prompted. "Do we own other people?"
"NO." Harry said, quickly. But his voice held more righteousness than
conviction.
"Is that true? We don't own each other? The law says we do. The heart agrees."
"Uhmm." Harry responded.
"We do, in a way don't we? Larger or smaller parts of each other. The law
notwithstanding. You see, the lycanthrope's law often says things that people
are uncomfortable saying.The laws are not subject to the emotions which buffet
us. They just are."
"Yes. But, if we can own people, then why is it wrong for me to want him to be
faithful?" Harry almost pouted the question.
"Because he is not unfaithful. He is faithful to who he is." The Seer said.
"And you, you are faithful to who you are."
"I want....wish...."
"Change, Harry. It is always hard to know when change is good and when it is
not needed. Or when it must not be permitted." The Seer turned his hidden face
towards the tall king, who lay quietly, enjoying the embrace he shared with his
ruling cohort.
The Seer shook a finger at the whole group of them. "You, Lucius, should talk
soon. You and him, and I, and your second and your third and all the others who
matter. Being too in control is not what you should be just now."
"I can not see what he sees." Lucius said at last. "I have given him no reason
for fear. But he is afraid. I love him more than I love myself, and he
is...afraid. Unhappy."
"He brings his whole life with him to this moment. As do we all. He brings his
fear with him. You didn't give it to him as a gift. You merely unearthed it
with your love." The Seer said.
"I am not afraid of him loving me!" Harry protested, winding one leg over
Lucius', squeezing tight.
"You fear he will stop." The silky calm voice of Amrys cut in. As he watched
Harry's action.
"Why should he love me?" Harry cried out. "He has you and Graeme and Troy and
Fred and...everyone else. Why should he love me?"
"Logic never explains love." The Seer offered, his veil twining around Harry's
ankle, helping Harry hook it around the back of Lucius' thigh. His voice soft,
but still rough as it was forced out of his throat.
"I love you." Lucius answered. "But, I don't understand you. I don't know why
you would accuse me of not being true to your heart. I don't understand why you
can not accept me as your king. There is no choice for me. I feel your pain, I
sought to give you freedom from me, as you have made it clear I am the source
of your pain. Yet, I find I haven't the ability to set you free of me. Not even
to prevent myself from hurting you. I am unable."
"He is a Muggle." The smooth, velvet voice carried from the doorway into the
room. Severus Snape stood there, tall and regal in his own way. The air of
authority unmistakable. He turned to the Seer, his dark eyes sharp and
sparkling.
"Severus." The Seer's broken voice was pleased, he patted the bed excitedly,
but Snape didn't seat himself. "A pleasure!"
"I did not expect to see you again." Was the controlled rejoinder from the
Potion's Master. "I hope you are remaining out of trouble."
"Yes, of course I am. Except when trouble is easily available. Now, you say he
is a Muggle? Why?"
"Because he is. All his involuntary instincts, all his automatic responses are
ones you might expect of a Muggle. Talk with him until your face is blue, and
he will still be a Muggle. He has never learned different."
"Always back to learning." Graeme growled. "It takes time. I will teach him,
*we will*. He is ours."
The Seer clapped his hands. "Possession!" He stated triumphantly, rising up on
his knees, veils rising in a spinning nimbus of glee.
"It will take years." Snape pointed out, sensibly.
"The years will pass regardless, why not learn while they do?" Amrys said.
Snape shared a look with him, as if....Harry thought....they were talking about
something entirely different. Nothing remotely scholarly.
"I have tried, for years. Couldn't teach him much beyond spells, potions, the
like." Snape fired back.
"We have his love. He will learn." Amrys said, with certainty.
"But, I had his trust." Severus reminded the were-leopards. Harry was struck
that that was true. He had trusted, he had understood the dark haired man. His
Potion's Professor, the man, who while perhaps he had not always liked him, had
saved his life repeatedly.
"Love *and* trust. Those two would be enough." The Seer commented. Snape looked
at him again. Raised a single dark brow.
"Trust?" He asked, his dark eyes boring through the veils. "Starting when?"
The Seer touched his veil. "Oh. You mean this. Well, why not?" His hands went
to the veil and lifted it, layer by layer, while the room fell quiet. Then the
last one was up and tossed aside and the face was plain to the viewers. Dark
wavy hair, handsome, dark eyes, glazed over as if they were unseeing. Scars
covered his visible throat. The Seer was blind, Harry realized, but that was
the lesser shock. He was the only one who shrank back, no one else was
surprised. Only him. He felt his gorge rise.
Harry gasped, pupils constricting as he looked up into the familiar face of Tom
Riddle.
The Seer frowned. His hand reached out and touched Harry's wrist very lightly,
Harry jumped. Then the Seer's expression cleared.
"Ah. You knew my father." He said. "I had forgotten."
His fingers ghosted over his face and his throat. Ran over the tangled scars.
"I have been told I look like him. I don't know, I have never seen him. But,
why would so many lie?"
"Your neck! Your eyes!" Harry blurted out. The scars were old and deep,
explaining the damaged voice.
"Oh, yes. Well, father wasn't pleased when I was born. He tried to rectify the
event."
"He tried to strangle you? While you were a baby?" Harry exclaimed in horror.
"Surely that doesn't surprise you, Mr Potter. Voldemort had a history of
attacking infants, as you yourself well know." Severus Snape reminded him,
sharply.
"But...his own son?" Harry whispered.
***** Chapter 61 *****
Chapter 61
 
"Father? Harry?" Draco's voice interrupted the mood, it was tight with an un-
named fear. He was in Mantheer's grip, straining forward.
Harry looked up as Lucius rose up out of the furs, mighty, regal, the most
beautiful man Harry had ever seen. The lighting colored his skin a delicate
shade of ivory tinged with pink, covering exquisite musculature. His loosed
hair flowed down over his wide shoulders and down his broad back. His chin was
lifted, his motion tantalizing, drawing admiration and every eye. He took no
notice and clearly felt no discomfort being the center of attention, Harry
marveled. He moved like a creature of primordial nature, the ultimate, sleek
predator.
Harry was captivated, aching to be close again, though Lucius had only just
parted from him. His need was so sharp and so great he almost cried out again.
Lucius turned in mid stride and looked down at him, to where Harry lay curled
on his side, watching his lover. It was a look of ownership. One Harry wanted
to see. A look powerful enough that Harry felt it touch his flesh, slid over
it, was as real as a hand reaching out to lay on his skin. A Claiming without
words. The air was charged between them as their gazes held, then Lucius moved
on, turning to continue over to Draco.
Draco was being carried by Mantheer. His color looked fractionally better, his
eyes were alert and lucid, no longer bright with fever or dull with illness.
Even so, Draco looked frightened. Lucius lifted his fingers to run them down
Draco's face, exploring the contours with eyes and pads of his fingertips.
"You should not be out of bed." Lucius was saying, examining his son with the
tenderest of touches. He ran the back of his fingers over Draco's pale cheek.
He nuzzled the side of the young man's throat, scenting him, burrowing into the
hair behind Draco's ear, tongue flicking out to deposit a careful, soft lick.
"I heard....the sound...." Draco said in response, voice tremulous, his gaze
going over Lucius to Harry. He held on tight to his father. "I
thought...I...that sound...one of you....dead...." He sobbed, choking, tried to
control the overflow of emotion he was feeling. The cries had torn through him
like an ice-frosted knife. He had truly feared one of them had died, was dying,
when the terrible sounds had reached his ears. Terror had driven him to rise
from his bed, nothing his guardians, also roused by the screams and the howls,
said could deter him from coming here. They had all compromised on him being
carried here. Otherwise he would have crawled, if that were the only way.
"What....?" His attention lighted on the small man, the stranger and his brow
furrowed. He leaned back into Mantheer's hold, as if seeking reassurance. Yaji
stepped up and placed a hand on his leg, turning his body so that the young man
was shielded, protected. Held between the two large men as his father continued
pet him and to confirm he was doing well, Draco visibly relaxed.
"You look like..." Draco began without thinking, then his eyes widened. His
lips clamped shut and he cut his gaze over to Harry's, with a look of panicked
disbelief. Harry opened his mouth to offer reassurance, but the king beat him
to it.
"He's not." Lucius soothed, feeling the tension rise in his son as the small
man got to his feet. "He is not Voldemort."
The small man, the Seer, spoke. Draco cringed at the rough, tortured rasp of
his voice. "I am Gwyddion Llyr, and yes, I am the son of Tom Riddle. But, I am
not lord Voldemort, that is a title that has passed away and will not be
claimed again." He lowered his veils, one by one, and once they had settled in
place, walked to the door, as if he was not blind. He made no move to go nearer
to Draco, nor to touch him. Not until Lucius called out to him.
"Gwyddion Llyr, Seer. Come and touch the heir of my pride. I request it. Offer
him your blessing." Lucius said and the Seer halted in the act of leaving the
room.
"You would have me touch the heir?" He asked to confirm the request. "And
Draco, your son, he wishes me to as well?"
"Is it safe?" Draco asked. "Professor Snape?" The slender dark haired man moved
up next to him.
"It will not harm the child." He held his wand in his hand. He was serious
faced. Intent on the small man who waited for half a beat, then nodded.
"Your request is granted." The Seer said.
Llyr moved up to the two guardians, stopping next to them, looking dwarfed next
to their massive forms, he reached up. Mantheer's bicep flexed, bulging, as he
leaned down a fraction to make the reach less. The Seer's hand moved unerringly
to Draco's belly, settling lightly over it, down low. His brown hand was warm
and not at all invasive.
"Ah." The Seer commented, his free hand reaching out towards the bed furs and
the men still on it. His hand stopped its slow drifting when he pointed at
Amrys. "The Sire. Such a beautiful child you will have. Golden hair and golden
skin and eyes like amber glowing. Healthy, and kind, a child with much love
waiting him. He has all the blessings he needs, he needs none from me. You have
done well, Mother of the heir. Your body cherishes the life it bears."
"I want the blessing of the Seer." Draco said quietly. "This is a child much
needed, one we will not do without. Will you bless him as well? For the pride's
sake?"
"Aye, I will." The Seer said after a momentary pause. His fingers curled a tiny
bit, pressing over the place the child grew. The air grew silent and still,
frozen as if all movement ceased. Every breath bated, for a long, impossible
instant. Then the sound returned , their breathing resumed, time moved forward.
The Seer lifted his head from where he had bent down.
"He has my blessings." He pulled away, lowered his hand. Stepped back. Spoke to
the room this time. His veils danced in the air.
"It is time to go to the Arena, isn't it? Unless I am mistaken Tambyn is here,
I can hear his impatient growling. Best not to keep him waiting. He doesn't
wait well. Very...spontaneous, is our were-wolf king. Come, let's go say hello.
If we are truly lucky there might be a little something left to nosh on. A
slice of pie perhaps?" His voice was as light and sweet as the grating sound
could be. Happy, Harry thought. The Seer sounded happy.
Harry stared at the strange man. It was odd to see the face of Tom Riddle and
not feel fear.
***** Chapter 62 *****
Chapter 62
 
Tambyn was huge, resplendent in his blue robes, gaping open over his massive
chest, lightly furred, reclining on the second stone throne that had been set
up in the Arena to accommodate him. His rough featured face was stony, grim.
Five of his own were-wolves sat around him. To his right, wearing an absolutely
thunderous expression, sat Sirius Black. In human form, he wore an ornate but
sturdy collar, the leash of which was firmly wrapped around Tambyn's meaty
fist. Sirius was not going anywhere, unless he managed to drag his giant king
along with him, no easy task. And the look on his face made it pretty obvious
how he felt about the restraint.
Lucius strode into the Arena, the Seer in front of him, moving quickly, eagerly
as if he looked forward to the confrontation. His veils had once more began to
flutter up and down wildly, a clear indication of the small man's mood. Two
other short persons, one male, one female came forward as he entered, the male
popping a last morsel of cake into his mouth, then enthusiastically licked his
fingers clean. They put their heads close and began speaking in undertones, the
women reaching out and flicking a dab of frosting off the unveiled man's cheek.
Lucius settled down on his own throne, sitting with one leg folded under him
the other dangling over the edge to the ground. Harry saw Fred and Troy were
already there, sitting at the base of the throne, Lucius touched each
affectionately, before pulling Harry down on the top of the throne next to him.
Harry curled up resting his head on one thick thigh, facing Tambyn. Troy and
Fred cuddled up to Lucius' dangling leg. Lucius' fingers twirled in their hair.
Amrys and Graeme stood one to each side of the king's throne, Mantheer and
Yaji, the former still carrying Draco, stood at the back, watchful. Kaithas and
Tanith were seated on the floor atop furs, a few other were-leopards were in
the room. But for the Arena, it was empty. This was not a meeting for the
entire pride.
The were-wolf king's eyes blazed with anger as he watched Lucius touch Harry
and the other kittens, and something more. Harry saw the wolf-man still wanted
him. His gaze was fiery with desire. Harry shuddered under the look, Lucius'
hand came to rest on his back, calming and reassuring, giving him strength.
Tambyn's wolves lounged around him on his throne, rubbing faces on his hands,
arms, legs and shoulders, one going so far as to lick at his chin. Only Sirius
remained rigidly apart, Tambyn holding the hated leash. He returned their
touches, with hands and with his own licks of ownership, his eyes roamed the
room always coming back to rest on Harry and on Lucius.
"King's, Leopards and Wolves." The ringing voice of the female seer lifted,
drawing all eyes to her. "We come together to discuss a point of law." She
looked from face to face, her sharp black eyes coming to rest on Sirius last.
"You, were-wolf, have laid claim to one Harry Potter, who you say was turned to
lycanthropy against the laws of the wolves. Explain yourself." Her skin was
dark, almost sooty black, her hair tightly pulled back, impossible to tell it's
length as it was hidden by her hood.
"I am his guardian. His godfather. I did not give permission for him to be
changed." Sirius snarled. "They have to give him back, he is mine."
"Possession!" The Seer yipped, happily. The female seer ignored him.
"Tambyn-king, what is your claim? You, too, say the law has been thwarted." The
female seer asked him.
"The boy was under the age of consent by our laws. Only an adult can consent or
the guardian of an underage human, to his being turned. It was not done
according to our laws. His guardian, Sirius Black, a wolf of mine, intended him
to be turned as a were-wolf. As such he would have been mine. I would have
taken and claimed him, I know this after meeting him." Tambyn said his deep
voice carrying to all corners of the Arena.
Harry was puzzled and a little affronted. The were-wolf had met him before, in
his castle, but had not tried to claim him. He had wanted to toss him out, give
them a good beating in doing it and would have done so if Lucius had not
intervened on his and Draco's part.
The Seer's hand came up, made a sign of negation even as Harry's mouth opened
to protest. Lucius stroked up his throat, hand coming up to cover, gently, the
youth's mouth. Muffling any words he might have uttered.
Harry briefly contemplated biting the hand, hard, instead he compromised,
setting his teeth carefully to Lucius' flesh, worrying at it delicately. The
release of pheromones was instant. Heads all throughout the room were lifted,
noses twitching, turned to face the were-leopard's throne. Only the Seers
ignored it. Graeme wound his long fingers around Harry's ankle, warningly.
Harry released the hand from his teeth. A sigh floated around the room.
Disappointment from most throats.
A commotion broke out around the were-wolves throne. Sirius Black was
straining, struggling against the leash, scrabbling at it, trying to wriggle
free, his blazing eyes locked onto Lucius and Harry. Tambyn held firm, did not
let his wolf win free. He glowered at Harry. And at his rival king.
"Why was consent not sought, were-leopard king?" The female asked.
"The turning was not planned. My Chosen was attacked by an unnatural, magically
created beast and thus was turned, without my knowledge. He was brought to me
by one of Tambyn's wolves. That is how I learned of his being turned to were-
leopard. It is our law that his turning should not have been done without my
consent. But once done, he became of my people. I claim him for the pride and
for myself as my Chosen. Confirmed by your own head Seer." Lucius retorted, his
strong voice filling the Arena.
"If the were-leopard king can not control his lusts, it does not make the boy
his! It gives all the more reason that the boy should be returned to his
godfather for safe-keeping!" Tambyn managed to sound outraged, but his eyes
were hungry as they rested on Harry. Graeme growled and crawled up onto the
throne, sitting closely behind Harry, sheltering him, his dark blue eyes fixed
on the were-wolf.
"And would you not take him to your own bed, were-wolf king?" Lucius asked.
"How long would you wait?"
The toffee-skinned male seer had at last finished licking his fingers clean and
looked up in blatant interest at the last question, his attention finally
caught. His gaze traveled from Harry to Lucius, to Graeme and then to the were-
wolves. Sirius had resumed his struggles and Tambyn pulled sharply on the lead.
***** Chapter 63 *****
Chapter 63
 
"I would not display him as you do. I would give him dignity, he would have no
male rivals for my attention. He would be second only to my wife." Tambyn
ground out, fist tightening on the leash he held in his hand, the other end of
which was attached to the collar around Sirius' neck. "Not one of many I took
at random to my bed. How many do you take to your bed, were-leopard king? How
many marks does he hold against you before it blackens his heart?"
Harry flinched when he heard the question. His skin flushed a deep, embarrassed
red, he once more opened his mouth to offer a stinging rebuttal, but the touch
on his calf distracted him. He looked down to see Graeme rubbing at his leg,
cheek pressed to the muscle, big, dark blue eyes fixed on Harry's face. Harry
drew in a quick breath, feeling the flush change, not embarrassment, rather
arousal.
"I cherish my Chosen. He has both dignity and honor with the pride. With me, he
is second to none." Lucius responded, to the wolf's challenge, his voice even
and sure. "My Claimed and my Marked do not lessen the respect he has with us.
It is the were-leopard way. He is a were-leopard. He is one of us."
Harry felt his heart warming at the words his king uttered. Lucius loved him.
He knew it. The other things, well they bothered him, Harry looked at Fred and
Troy. The fact Lucius wanted them, had sex with them and cared for them hurt
Harry. Dimly he was aware it was because of his insecurity, not because he
thought Lucius didn't love him. Graeme's almost inaudible growl distracted
Harry again, this time interrupting his morose thoughts. Graeme's gaze was
locked onto his, very slowly the third extended his tongue and lapped at
Harry's knee. Harry's heart leaped, he shivered against Lucius' thigh.
Sirius abruptly flashed to wolf form. His hind foot came up and he scratched at
the collar desperately, waggling his head side to side, trying to win free.
Tambyn growled and bodily lifted the huge wolf, tucking him up tight against
his side, holding him firmly, despite his mighty struggles.
"It gives insult. The way you treat him. I have heard that you display him,
have sex with him in front of others. That is no respect." Tambyn ground out,
holding Sirius' snapping muzzle shut, only just avoiding a serious bite.
Lucius petted Troy, threading his fingers throughout the younger man's thick,
dark hair. Troy gazed up at him adoringly, lifted his chin to be scratched
under it. His eyes were half shut with pleasure. Harry burrowed closer, holding
back the tiny whimper that wanted to escape. The king's big, warm hand rubbed
along his back and spine, the caress nearly melted Harry's bones.
"No, you are wrong. He is only ever honored within the pride. Our ways are not
an insult to him. It is yourself who seeks to break tradition not I. The wolf's
way has always been to take one mate. Your wife Electra is yours. She will not
allow there to be others. She is your alpha bitch. Does she know, wolf-king,
what you are doing here?" Lucius asked, eyes narrowed.
"She will listen to her king and obey. Harry Potter will bring new power to her
pack. She will respect that and my choice." Tambyn insisted, growling every bit
as much as the clawing, squirming, scratching Sirius. "He is meant to be a
king's mate."
"In that you are right, Tambyn. He is meant to be a king's *mate*. And I have
taken him as my Chosen." Lucius agreed. "He is *this* king's mate. He is beside
me."
Lucius' hand continued to stroke along Harry's slender back, massaging gently
but deeply, until Harry felt like he couldn't move, like he wanted to roll onto
his back and expose his tender belly and have it rubbed. Graeme reached under
him and moved his palm over the soft flesh of his stomach, careful, soothing,
reassuring touch, Harry, being petted front and back now, purred.
"As are your second and your third. Do they also taste him, do you force him to
accept them?" Tambyn snorted, eyes pinning Graeme, disgust written on his face.
"Our ways are not for you to question." Lucius said. "He is meant to be here.
He is loved and cherished and he is my Chosen mate. He wishes to be here."
"You have confused him. How can he know what he wants? It is best to return him
to his godfather, to make him a wolf. It is his true place." Tambyn declared,
leaning forward, teeth bared. "Give him to us and I will make it known to him
that he has more than one choice. That he can come to us of his own free will.
Not because of a convenient *accident*!"
"Well this is all very interesting. All this sniping back and forth is soooo
entertaining!" The Seer said. "But it is getting us nowhere. Barethes."
Gwyddion Llyr raised his arm unerringly in the direction of the silent male
seer who had been avidly watching the goings on. The man fairly leapt forward.
The toffee-skinned seer stepped around the female seer who had been long quiet
as the two king's argued. He looked at Tambyn and he looked at Lucius. He
walked over to the were-wolf king with quick, excited steps. His slim fingers
slid into the thick black fur of the wolf that the king held, Sirius whined and
stopped struggling as the man's face rubbed into his fur, over his doggy
forehead.
Then the male seer's hands slid up Tambyn's arms. The were-wolf king jumped at
the touch, clearly having trouble holding still.
"What is he doing?" Tambyn asked, barely managing to keep from leaping to his
feet and pulling away.
"Why...he is touching you, were-wolf king." The Seer said.
"He is more than touching me." Tambyn snarled out.
"Inside and out." The Seer clarified, his veils flying in the non-existent
wind.
***** Chapter 64 *****
Chapter 64
 
Tambyn forced himself to remain immobile, tolerating the touch of the seer,
Barethes. It was almost more than he could stand, feeling the hands on him, the
seer's mind moving through his own. Gradually reaching deeper and deeper, while
Tambyn held back the urge to wallop the smaller man, anything to get him off of
him.
Odd that this invasive touch had calmed Sirius. Tambyn shook, mildly at first
then harder and more violently, until he was close to convulsions. He wanted to
peel the thing off of him, it was not a man nor wolf, it was a....thing. At the
last possible instant he could bear, the seer pulled back, his hands sliding
reluctantly away, his mind leaving that of the wolf-king. Barethes licked his
lips hungrily, his fingers trailing along the king's belly as he pulled away,
Tambyn shrank back, skin crawling, shuddering from the ravenous touch and eyes
of the seer.
Barethes stood up, his hand lingering on the large, black furred wolf at
Tambyn's side, petting the head of Sirius Black, fingers digging into the thick
fur, the were-wolf pressing his eager snout into the touch, his earlier
agitation gone. His tail was wagging enthusiastically, so strongly that his
whole hind end moved back and forth. He licked the hand that was in front of
his muzzle. Then the seer stepped away and turned on his heel. He started at a
loping run, launching himself directly at Lucius, seated on his own throne, the
seer clambering over Fred Weasley, who pulled back with a defensive yip as he
was stepped on and up onto the rock and springing at the were-leopard king.
Lucius' first instinct was to remove himself from the seer's grasp, most
especially after witnessing Tambyn's cringing reaction. But, he held himself
still and let the seer's hand fall onto his skin, let the small body mold to
his. Oh, that was not so bad. A definite feline flavor to the contact. That
catlike taste was probably what gave Tambyn the willies. While Lucius wouldn't
have chosen the contact, it didn't trouble him all that much. Which was
definitely not the case for the young-ling at his side. Harry objected to the
encounter without delay.
Next to Lucius, held close, Harry yelped, raising his head in alarm. He felt
the seer's entrance into his lover's mind. He jerked back from the brief
contact he had with the seer's robes, frantically brushing them off and away.
And he didn't like it at all, the seer pawing at his Mate. Lucius was his,
Harry bared his teeth, they went from human blunt to were-leopard sharp in an
instant.
Graeme was suddenly up and over Harry's body, pinning him, arms and legs around
the younger man holding tight. "It's OK. It is what they do. They don't harm
you if you don't resist. Relax. Our king will be fine. He has done this
before." He snuggled Harry into the curve of his body, careful to keep Harry's
hands occupied, and away from the seer, his bigger hands snug around Harry's
wrists. Harry though, wasn't having any of it.
Harry hissed, low and threatening, tensing as the contact between seer and king
seemed to go on far too long. He strained against Graeme's superior physical
strength. Graeme held him and there was movement off to the side. Harry shied
away from it. His eyes showing white, startled. It was Gwyddion Llyr. The youth
bared his teeth again and the Seer wisely stayed out of reach.
"Be at ease. He will not be harmed." The Seer soothed. Risking a touch to
Harry's back, Harry hissed louder, his eyes back on Lucius and the male seer
who was laying full length atop him, practically melting into him.
"Barethes." Llyr called to him, quietly, correctly gauging the degree of the
young Chosen's upset. "I would suggest that you hurry."
Barethes murmured something unintelligible, squirmed more securely against the
were-leopard king, clinging, pleased to be where he was. Harry struggled harder
against the encircling arms that restrained him and kept him from rescuing his
king and his Mate.
"Barethes." The Seer repeated the call. A bit louder and more urgently. "You
haven't much time. Wrap it up." He was amazed at the power of the young-ling,
it traveled up his arm from where he was lightly touching the youth's back.
Harry was going to get free, if he was determined to do so.
"Oooooh." Barethes replied, shivering from head to foot, face rooting at the
base of Lucius' neck, he licked Lucius' throat lazily, then his lips as if
savoring the taste. Harry spat out the loudest hiss yet, thrashing wildly,
managing to get one hand free, he swiped at the seer laying blissfully on top
of the staring Lucius. Graeme rolled backwards just in time to save the seer
Barethes from injury. Harry swiped at him again, lightning fast, again only
just missing. He was sporting long, wickedly hooked claws. Gleaming, ivory
colored, lethal talons.
"Barethes!" Gwyddion Llyr yelled as loudly as his raspy voice allowed. "Get
away from him now!"
The female seer took the most direct action. She reached over from her position
to the opposite side of Harry and bodily lifted her male companion off of the
were-leopard king. He let out a moan of disappointment as he was pulled away,
his hands trailing behind the rest of his body, trying to hold on. Pouting.
Immediately, Graeme released his tight hold on the Chosen and Harry sprang to
cover Lucius with his own defensively postured form. He had grown a long tail,
along with his fangs and his claws. The tail twitched rapidly, threateningly,
in the air over them. He turned his face toward the male seer, now shielded
behind his female counterpart and he growled a very clear warning. Graeme
hovered watchfully over Harry's back, while Amrys moved to cut off the open
space between the Chosen and the two seers.
"Now that was just foolish." The Seer scolded his fellow seer, sternly. "Shame
on you. Bad, bad kitty." He shook his finger, and the male seer hung his head.
Llyr paused, then spoke, once more.
"So. What did you find out?" He made no effort to hide his eagerness, rubbing
his hands together briskly.
***** Chapter 65 *****
Chapter 65
 
The female seer was the one to speak, her male counterpart stood behind her,
arms wrapped round her torso, just under her breasts, his head resting on her
shoulder as she stood and gave the ruling of the Seer's Council. Her voice was
strong and carrying, she seemed not at all disturbed by her colleague holding
on to her so tightly as she spoke, nor to be disturbed by the roiling emotions
and tension that filled the room. She flung out one hand pointing it at the
wolf king, who sat uncomfortably, waiting. He did not flinch at the gesture,
but it was a near thing.
"The King of the wolves, he desires the boy mightily. He recognizes the power
he would bring to the wolves, he wants it to benefit his pack. His intent is to
better the lives of his wolves, to increase their standing in the lycanthrope
world. He does have some interest in bedding him, but that is not his primary
motivation. He has no inclination to harm him. Nor is he naturally homosexual.
He has never felt for another male what he feels for Potter. I say to you,
Tambyn, wolf king, this is not your way."
She then spun on her heel, the skirt of her robes flaring out from the point
they were being held by the arms of her partner, the man plastered to her back
moving with her perfectly in sync, until she faced the were-leopards. She
raised her hand again, looked at them, crouched atop the stone throne, Harry
still looking quite rebellious, half human, half his animal form. His teeth
were very prominently displayed, lips peeled warningly back. She reacted to the
shiny fangs not at all.
"The Leopard King loves Harry Potter. He loves his pride. He seeks the best for
him and for his pride. They have many differences, but they are moving closer.
He embraces what it is to be leopard and lycanthrope. He wishes his subjects to
be happy. Content. Pleased. And he desires Harry a hundred times more than the
wolf king. He is naturally inclined to love men above women. He married for
duty, came to feel great affection for his wife until she betrayed him with the
truth, and since then his passion has only been for others of his own sex. I
say to you, Lucius, were-leopard king, this is your way."
The female seer lowered her hand, and dropped her chin to rest on her chest.
Sighed, laying her hands over those of the man who held her patting them.
"Where shall Harry Potter live?" Gwyddion Llyr asked the slender, dark skinned
woman. She lifted her head again, dropping her hands away.
"It is my ruling that he shall remain where he is, among the were-leopard's
pride, with the obligation to visit his godfather, and attend to him with the
duties of his true son. For the black wolf does love him." The female turned to
look at first the leopards then at Tambyn.
"You, Tambyn, wolf king. You are not wrong for seeking to enhance your pride.
Yet you must walk carefully to preserve the right and honor of your pack. You
are not ready to add any other lover to your life, your actions would have
destroyed the stability of your pack. It has always been the arrangement of the
wolves to take one mate and no others. The power you would have received would
not have made up for the disruption of the pack's customs." She said to him.
"The Chosen of the leopards is what he is and can not be changed again to
human, not by any magic. He is bound as the Chosen of old, the ancient ones,
with a life bond that must remain intact. Beyond the bond of lover and lover.
To sever the bond is death."
"You, Lucius, leopard king. You have looked deep and hard into your heart. You
have held true to your pride's laws. You have tried to tread gently with the
heart of your Chosen. I say to you. Do not forsake the laws. The laws define
our societies, the laws tell us who we are. The leopards have always lived by
the laws that are now written in stone." Her dark face was firm and unbending
as she told him. Lucius nodded in acknowledgment, his hands soothingly at
Harry's waist, Graeme and Amrys still watchful. Standing between Harry and the
seers.
The woman turned her dark, blazing eyes on the youth spread possessively over
the body of his king. Jealousy touched the green eyes. It was there for those
who looked deep enough to see.
"You, Harry Potter, Chosen of the were-leopard pride. I say to you. Do not
worry. Those we care for and who care for us always have owned parts of us. And
it will ever be so. Such a thing is not to be feared, nor is sharing the love
of others who love you. There is much love within the pride for you. Enough for
all. I tell you, breathe deep, think not of what others have that you want. If
you do, you will miss what you yourself have, and will never enjoy it."
She reached up and took the hand of her fellow seer and led him from the Arena.
The male seer whined, looking back over his shoulder longingly at the were-
leopards. Gwyddion Llyr was left, the lone member of the council.
The Seer walked over to the visitor's throne. He held out his hand to Tambyn.
The wolf king's reluctance to touch another member of the council was apparent,
he hesitantly held out his own hand. His face was a study in shocked amazement
when their hands came together. His large eyes flew up to the Seer's veiled
face.
Gwyddion Llyr moved closer, his free hand coming up to touch the side of the
massive man's face. He leaned in very close and spoke. Too low for even the
were-leopard's sharp hearing to pick up. Tambyn nodded once, his own hand, huge
against the small man's back was spread wide. He nodded again. Then he stood.
"Lucius, were-leopard king, I thank you for the hospitality of your pride.
There will be no repercussions from this day." Tambyn began. Lucius inclined
his head in recognition. "My word shall bind all of my wolves. Your Chosen is
bound to you beyond my ability to sever, even if I feel his place should
rightly have been elsewhere. I would not cause harm or death by trying to
remove him. He is welcome within the pack's home. And he will be safe there as
long as my rule shall last." Then the were-wolf king swept the Seer up in his
arms and strode out, his wolves trailing, Sirius' leash still in his grip.
Harry was torn. He wanted to go to his godfather, despite all the trouble he
had stirred up. Sirius looked over his furry shoulder at him. Harry felt
Lucius' hands firm on him, telling him he was not going to be allowed to go to
the wolf. This king did not trust so easily as all that. Harry surrendered to
the command in those strong hands.
"I love you, Sirius." Harry called after the departing black wolf. "I will come
visit you."
***** Chapter 66 *****
Chapter 66
 
Severus Snape allowed himself to pace. Ten long strides in one direction, then
a turn on his boot heel and ten strides back the other way. The sound of his
steps on the stone tiles were sharp in the silence. He kept the strides
measured and in control, none of the franticness that was building internally
was permitted to show outwardly.
The Seer's council was sequestered with the ruling contingent of two
lycanthrope groups, wolf and leopard. There were decisions being made, ones
that would effect both groups more than they thought and those decisions were
ones that Snape wanted desperately to hear, immediately. The need to know ate
at him.
The decisions affected Potter, a boy he had gradually and unwillingly come to
care for and to protect more than once. The wrong verdict would destroy the
boy. But what Snape knew of lycanthrope culture told him that was not always a
factor taken into consideration in circumstances such as these. Neither
lycanthrope group seemed to grasp just how frightening the power Harry had was.
Nor did they comprehend how differently the youth conceived things. He was not
a lycanthrope yet.
Seven years of study at Hogwarts had not washed away the foul taint of his
horrific Muggle upbringing. Now, with less than half a year as a lycanthrope,
they thought he should be behaving like one of their own. Severus sighed. They
treated him as they would any other young-ling. Had the same expectations of
him, expected him to know what they wanted, all without acknowledging he had
never been made aware of how differently wizarding families raised their
children. Without telling him what he was supposed to know, what Snape blamed
Dumbledore for Harry not knowing. What Snape had tried to teach him, but for
the most part he had not had the time to do all that much. The war against
Voldemort had taken that time away.
Of course, when it came to Potter, it was not unusual for his feelings and
needs not to be a factor in decisions made about him. Like the decision to
place him with that appalling Muggle family, the Dursleys, to leave him there
despite years of abuse that Dumbledore *was* aware of. When Harry had finally
been permitted to come to Hogwarts to see the wizarding world, it had been
almost to late. He had grown, immensely. But he was in pain. He didn't
understand what he was supposed to do. And now here he was, in the same
situation, an outsider, looking in. But, this time, gods willing, it would be
different for the boy. This time, maybe, he would belong and find a family to
care for him. If the seers made the right decision. The alternative was to,
essentially, deliver Harry into an unknown man's bed.
Snape paced. Dumbledore was a coldly practical man. His outward demeanor was
nothing like the true heart of a cold, calculating politician the man really
was. The grandfatherly outside was all window dressing, convenient to use to
reassure clingy students and wary parents, but it was not the real Dumbledore.
For Merlin's sake, he had survived 200 years of machinations in various
positions of power in the wizarding world. There was not a wizard or witch in
an office of responsibility that didn't owe the old man something. And
Dumbledore was ruthless about calling those favors in.
Then there was how the deliberations now going on in the lycanthrope Arena
might affect Draco. Draco had developed an unexpectedly firm friendship with
Potter. He would be strongly impacted by what happened to the young man. If
Potter was forced to leave the pride, Snape had little doubt Draco would try to
get him back, using any means at his disposal, with danger to himself not a
consideration. Draco Malfoy, the unfeeling, icy Slytherin to outsiders, was in
reality, fantastically loyal. Reliable. And determined when it came to aiding
friends.
Snape had let his attention drift and was recalled to his situation when he
stubbed his toe sharply on an ornately carved, very sturdy table leg. The pain
shot up his foot and into his leg. He stopped his pacing, sucking in a deep
breath. He stood, propping his hands on the damn table until the pain decreased
to a bearable level. Then he turned his mind back to the current problem he was
contemplating. It was impossible to hold still and think the problem through,
he resumed pacing, this time with a slight limp.
Lucius Malfoy, his friend and king of the were-leopard pride would be shattered
if Potter was taken away. Snape was beginning to suspect there was more to the
relationship he shared with the Chosen, (it was strange thinking of the raven
haired, emerald eyed, troublesome young man as that), than was initially
obvious. When he had been in the company of both men, Severus had noted a
binding signature that did not match what he had expected to find. He was
sensitive to such things, all forms of magic, very intuitive, though his
students would no doubt laugh at such an idea, that he was sensitive in any way
at all. He was certain that the association between the king and his Chosen,
was far more than Lucius was letting on.
And his own personal problem. Amrys. Despite knowing the man was Draco's, Snape
found himself thinking about the broad shoulders and strong body far too often.
He'd woken from no less than half a dozen dreams featuring the man in this one
week alone. Things on that front were decidedly out of control, they had to be
addressed. Soon.
He had once again lost his awareness of his surroundings and this time took a
far worse tumble, falling over the tea table that should have been well out of
his way, if he hadn't wandered off to one side of the room in the course of his
pacing. He was never this clumsy he thought to himself, impatiently. He
struggled to a sitting position. His foot throbbed from the first stubbing. And
now the ankle of the other foot hurt far more. With an exasperated sigh he
carefully worked his boots off. It was not a pleasant experience, sweat dewed
his face before he had completed the task.
His right great toe was a rapidly purpling, swollen mess. Freed from the shoe,
it made its displeasure with his lack of attention plain. Then Snape looked at
the other foot. That one was worse, naturally. Pain throbbed through the
swollen ankle. No way was he going to get that back into his footwear. He
sighed again, a fine mess. He was to blame of course, if he had just maintained
his concentration, instead of losing it like a school boy...
"Well." The rich voice whispered over every nerve he had. He snapped his head
around and face the half amused face of the pride's second. "It looks as if you
could use a little help."
Snape waved that away, here at last was someone who could tell him what
happened. "In due time," he exclaimed, "what about the ruling?"
"Harry will remain with the pride as Lucius' Chosen." Amrys came around the
back of the couch and squatted down. Before Severus could object he slid his
powerful arms under Snape's knees and behind his back. He rose as if it were no
effort to lift the tall wizard at all.
"Wait!" Severus said. "My shoes." He finished lamely when Amrys did stop.
"I prefer my men barefoot." Amrys said.
***** Chapter 67 *****
Chapter 67
 
"I am afraid I can't...." Severus began reasonably enough for a grown man being
carried barefoot through the corridors of the Manor, oogled by at least a dozen
curious faces as the lycanthrope bore him down the hall. Worse, he could feel
the distracting flexing and relaxing of the muscles of the man who was carrying
him. Those glorious muscles pressed so close, too close for him to think
rationally. He swallowed and tried again.
"We can't....uhm...we're in....public.....they're...looking......" Snape
started a second time. Amrys raised his brows waiting for a complete sentence
from the slender man he was holding.
Snape found himself lost in gazing at the handsome profile, the tanned skin,
the blond-gold hair, the full mouth just begging to be licked and nibbled at.
He flushed head to foot, a tingly rush. Ahhh, Merlin, he was about to make a
huge fool of himself. He was about to beg for just one moment, a single taste,
of that glowing beauty. It just wouldn't do. He had a reputation to maintain,
his dignity to preserve. He spluttered. Amrys smiled at him. Snape's heart
skipped a beat, then raced.
Amrys lowered him onto a bed atop a mound of furs. He gently began to unbutton
the slimline coat that Snape was wearing. Severus' fingers were dueling with
the lycanthrope's. Unsure if he was helping loosen the coat or trying to keep
it on. His fumbling seemed only to amuse his companion, seeing how quickly the
coat came free, he had to conclude he *was* helping to undress himself. It
ended up off, lickety-split, then his shirt quickly followed.
Bare from the waist up, he lifted his chin, this could not be allowed to
continue. He opened his mouth, determination wrinkling his brow, clutched a fur
to his chest, and readied himself to take control of the situation. He drew in
his breath, and the musk of the were-leopard, all maleness, all sweet-and
clean, and so erotically charged with pheromones. He almost groaned aloud. He
shivered.
"Really, there is no need...." He began, the last word a squeak, a humiliating
*squeak*, then Amrys looked up at him from under his lashes. Dark, sultry eyes,
long, gold lashes, and suddenly Snape couldn't say a word. His chest was seized
up tight, his belly tickling him from the inside, growing hot, burning hungry
fire. Amrys' lips parted, his tongue, the very tip, so pink, flicking over the
full bottom lip. Snape was helpless. Desperate for that taste.
"Ohhh." He said. He could see down the loose top as Amrys bent forward, see the
perfect curve of his chest, the darker nipples, taut, decorating the slope. And
he wanted, oh, gods so badly, to reach out, to touch that tiny, hard bud, to
lap at it with his tongue, famished for this taste, his first taste of a man in
too, too long. Of a lycanthrope, of anyone this beautiful.
Amrys, hearing nothing but the moan, feeling the need, smelling the desire,
moved up, brushed his cheek over the wizard's, licked the corner of his mouth.
Nuzzled him. Licked again, Severus moaned louder, clutching the fur spread, his
head falling back, weight resting on his elbows, not anything he could control.
He let the other man take over the kiss, let him explore the heated recesses of
his mouth, while he made do with the leisurely, wondrous sucking on the slick
tongue that was driving him mad.
Amrys slid close. His dark gold hair tangling with Snape's black tresses. His
body seemed to flow up over Severus'. The heat transferring from skin to skin,
even through the shirt Amrys still wore. Fingers were at his belt, undoing the
fastenings, the buttons and slipping the snug trousers down his legs. Leaving
him bare now, above and below the waist. The long, clothed leg of the pride's
second slipped between his naked thighs. It was all Snape could do not to yelp.
He was naked and very hard. My god, he was hard, throbbing, straining,
hunching, that kind of hard. He panted, while the lycanthrope devoured his
mouth, his kiss breathless. Snape fell back, his legs splayed, the fully
clothed man moving between his long slim thighs, hand trailing soft as down up
the outside of his leg, up to his hip, digging in, causing him to shudder.
Amrys bit him tenderly. Laved the sting with a soothing swipe. Snape hissed,
his legs wrapping tight around the so muscular hips, drawing them in. Feeling
the other man's erection. Long and perfect, thick and hot, pressing into his
own intimate flesh. The big hands, they flexed and lifted his hips, finger tips
brushing between the globes of his ass, touching him...there. He was wet. Very
wet. And he realized, he was being prepared. A finger entering him, just the
very tip, alien, but very welcome.
"We...oh no...can't....ohhhh...." The wizard moaned. Amrys nipped the side of
his throat, pushed the finger in, deep. Severus stiffened, that was...good. The
finger moved, turned, hooked, touched.... Severus Snape couldn't move. He was
frozen, his body under someone else's control. He finally managed a breath, a
cry, a groan, then he arched into the pressure of that wonderful finger, just
there, perfectly...there. His whole pelvis was molten with need. He shifted,
rode the invader, the second finger that joined it. Heard the throaty, pleased
sound the lycanthrope made.
"Take me in." Amrys said, his words hot puffs against the pale throat. He
licked the sweat dewed skin. "Take me all the way in. Yes. Like that. Grip me
tight."
The object demanding entrance was not a finger, not two nor three fingers. It
was Amrys' erection, Severus knew. Big. Pressing in. Abating. Patient, but
inevitable. He knew it wouldn't stop, not until he was filled, screaming. He
gasped, thighs trembling as the slick shaft pierced him.
"Tell me, wizard, do I please you? You please me, with your heat all around me.
Let me in. Let me fill you full." Amrys said, lapping the rim of the other
man's ear, tongue dancing over the edge, teeth grazing, sending frantic shivers
over Severus' body. His hips surged, up and inward.
Inside. Another man was inside his body. Strong and thick, joyous. Brushing
over some wonderful spot inside of him while it was there. Over and over. While
he cried out, over and over. Shook and shivered. Writhed, transfixed on this
pleasure. Beyond what he remembered of sex before. He was being ridden with
utmost care, with a sensual power driving all reason before it. With spine
bowing thrusts that bore deep into his core, the pressure building, overflowing
until he screamed with it. Screamed. Severus Snape. Howling as he came, wave
after wave of overwhelming release. Stealing all his strength, wringing him
empty and dry. Until he was filled with his lover's seed.
Then, it was over. Done. The bliss fading. His incredulity back. It could not
have been him. He could not have done such a truly astounding thing. Had it
done to him. Impossible, despite the languid pleasure that lingered in his
melted bones. The towering pleasure had not been his to take.
"Draco...." Severus said desperately, his words were choked, full of pain. He
had taken Draco's lover. It was unforgivable. "Your lover....I..."
Amrys lifted his head. His face was a study in surprise. "The Mother is not my
lover."
"But...I heard....uh...they said....you are the father of the child he is
carrying." Snape insisted. He had not imagined that.
"Yes. I was chosen to father the heir. By the seer, our seer, Kaithas." Amrys
said. "I am not his lover. I have never been." His hand came up to cup the
other's cheek. "Don't weep for that. Weep for pleasure. Those are the only
tears I want to bring to your eyes."
***** Chapter 68 *****
Chapter 68
 
Draco Malfoy was sore. His legs and chest ached. The wounds were healing,
Professor Snape was very pleased with his progress, but they hurt all the time.
At times just a small pain, at others, a throbbing, tearing pain. Snape told
him it was from the residue of the poison his aunt had used, that he could be
given a draft for it, but that would slow the healing. So Draco chose to bear
the pain.
He sat back on his heels. He had come down here, to the stone room, drawn to
the ancient words. The seers' ruling had been a relief for him, Harry was safe
within the protection of the pride. Draco had a working knowledge of the
everyday expectations for behavior in the pride but he had never delved deeper
into the laws. He thought now that had been a mistake. He should have asked,
explored, tried to understand. Especially when he had been the heir. But what
child has sensible ambitions? Certainly not he.
The incised words started far up in every corner, ran along every inch of
space, save for the floor under his furs. He couldn't see them clearly, the
ones so high up. In the condition he was in he knew climbing up on a ladder
would be a bad idea. One slip and not only would he be hurt, but he'd never get
Mantheer or Yaji to bring him here again. Once their protective instincts were
roused, no amount of cajoling changed their minds. The would stand like stony
pillars against all his begging or clever argument.
He shifted in the nest of furs they had arranged for him. Turning on his side
helped ease the strong spasm that was gripping his thighs at the moment,
kneeling had been a bad idea. He read the words in front of him for the third
time, pondering them. It was, naturally, too much to hope for that the laws
were forthright and easy to understand. Or that they would be written as do's
and don'ts. No wonder the seers spent all their lives studying the laws. And no
wonder that even the kings went to the seers at times to seek clarity.
"And the Chosen shall be the balm of the king." Draco murmured out loud. What
did that mean? Was Harry supposed to be soothing for his father? Because as
much as he loved his father, and...OK...loved Potter, their relationship was
anything but soothing. Intense. Yes. Passionate. Absolutely. But not soothing.
Not in the way Draco felt soothed by his guardians. No. The comparison was
almost laughable. Lucius and Harry were pure fire, as likely to be arguing as
kissing.
On the other hand, Mantheer and Yaji made Draco feel safe. Cared for. Loved.
Secure. Calm. He cherished them in a way he had not before the conception of
his child. It had taken Harry, *and* the two guardians to get Draco through the
ceremony of conception. He had not wanted to have a man mate with him. Not even
the glorious, golden Amrys, who brought stars to the eyes of every member of
the pride for as long as Draco remembered. Having the furry bodies of his
guards next to him had been...necessary. Having them with him every night and
every day since his attack was becoming...absolutely necessary. There was a
definite theme here, he thought, wryly. One he'd have to examine more closely
in the near future. He had a feeling that he, the flashy Slytherin who pursued
lovely young women, was in for a shock. But later. For now...
Draco frowned. He read the law again. "And the Chosen shall be the balm of the
king." Did it mean the Chosen could be used by the king to smooth the workings
of the pride? To calm the members? To comfort those who needed comfort? King's
of the pride had long offered the Chosen to other royalty as a deeply honored
welcome when they visited. It was considered the highest compliment any pride
king could bestow. So high an honor that it was *not* expected by the visiting
royals. Not requested. And if offered, was never, ever refused.
Of course, there was also the situation they were now in. There had not been
another Chosen in Draco's lifetime. Yet, even he wondered if it was right that
the ruling three did not share the Chosen. Amrys and Graeme had always shared
everything with Lucius. Only those two, the second and the third, had Rights to
touch what was the king's. The Rights to his bed, to his time, to his body, to
everything that made him king. To everything that made him who he was. Even
more so now that Amrys was the Sire.
They were tighter than ever now, the ruling three. And Lucius was trying to do
something. Draco had pondered just what it was after the scene in his father's
rooms, the horrible screaming...he had to ask himself the questions. Lucius had
tried to give Harry to Graeme. And when Harry refused, the king had tried to
sever their bond, to walk away and reject his Chosen. Merlin, what a mistake
that had been. But, it had also been a well needed lesson.
Was the favor of the Chosen the balm that the king used to keep his ruling
triad stable, content? It made sense that it was. To Draco anyway. But, this
was the first day he had come here. What did he know? He determined to ask
Amrys about it. Graeme, while Draco didn't fear him, not really, was a bit to
volatile to ask. Though as Draco understood, Graeme was as close as it came to
an expert and fanatical adherent to the laws and traditions of the pride.
Harry, though. Draco shook his head. Harry was not the most balm-y sort. He was
too powerful, too stubborn, too....Harry. If balm was what his father had been
looking for in a Chosen, then the king had miscalculated badly in his choice.
But, the tie between the two of them was there. Blazing strong for any one to
see. Unbreakable the seer had said. The young blond man shook his head,
grinning secretly to himself.
His father, powerful king that he was, had bitten off a bit more than he could
chew when it came to Harry. Potter was a handful. Or more. The king himself
could use help in taming that fire. Perhaps...the help of his second and third?
Draco turned back to the wall, and the deep carved words. "And the Chosen shall
be the balm of the king." What exactly did that mean?
***** Chapter 69 *****
Chapter 69
 
Draco let Yaji carry him out of the stone room. He could hardly wait until the
last effects of the poison wore off and he could walk more than a few dozen
steps without spasm or pain.
He had read several of the laws and wondered about them. He'd solved few.
Mostly what he had were many, many questions. It seemed the laws could be
interpreted more than one way. Just about all of them. None of them, pardon the
pun, were written in stone. None were of the type..."thou shall not..." The
simplest had been the one that said, essentially, there would always be three
to rule. It didn't specify who those three were, or how they would be chosen.
But, other laws had mentioned the second and the third. Draco had picked up on
the idea the laws were not complete on their own, they were intended to be
cumulative. All honored together.
Yaji was warm and Draco was wrapped in the furs that he'd been sitting on. It
made him wonderfully drowsy. Half-dreamy, he snuggled down into the big man's
arms, enjoying the sway of the man's steps, they were rocking him to sleep. He
burrowed his face against the strong chest, rubbing it with his cheek,
contentedly.
"Yaj?" He asked sleepily, his voice a little thickened.
"Yes?" The big man answered, a pleasant rumble against Draco's cheek.
"Did you ever study the laws? Ever read them and wonder about them?"
"I did read them, from the doorway of the room. But, I have never studied them.
They are not for casual study. They can not be learned from a single day's
reading, nor a month, nor a year. They require a lifetime. The laws and the
stone room are sacred to the pride. It is not meant for many to trespass in the
room simply to gape at them."
"Oh." Draco thought about that. He didn't want to do anything that would show
lack of respect for the pride or the laws. Perhaps he shouldn't go into the
room again. "Then, why haven't you told me not to go inside?"
"You are not a casual visitor to the room. Your study is serious." Yaji
replied, holding him closer, causing Draco to smile involuntarily, it felt
good. Yaji continued. "I can see the fire in your eyes when you study the laws.
They excite you, you want to understand them. You respect the sacredness. You
honor our history. And the room let you in."
"I..." Draco thought about that. He was drawn to the room. He was drawn to the
carved words covering every inch of the walls, he did feel a need to understand
the laws. In fact, nothing had compelled him more strongly in his young life,
aside from the need to carry the pride's heir. He yawned, a huge, jaw-cracking
yawn. Yaji was right. This was not a whim, not mere curiosity. "I'm really
tired, Yaj."
"Then sleep. I will take you to bed." The big man said, his deep voice low and
soothing, his warm breath stirring the hair laying across the youth's forehead.
Draco thought about that. The wording of the reply. Another thing he'd been
contemplating. Rather a lot, if he was truthful. Perhaps, it was because he had
been sitting trying to untwist the laws, but it seemed to him that Yaji's words
could also be translated two or more ways. He found himself smiling. He lifted
his chin to look up at the strong brown face, the firm jaw, the smooth,
powerful throat. He felt the echo of excitement, if only he wasn't so tired,
he'd reach up and....
"Yes, I'd like that. You taking me to bed. You and Mantheer. Keeping me warm.
Holding me." Draco answered the guardian, dreamily.
"Then it shall be so. Rest." Yaji murmured. He looked down at the faintly
flushed face of the Mother of the heir. The youth was beautiful. Even more so
now as the new life grew within and the gentle curve of his belly showed.
Faster than the usual pregnancy, this magical one. That sight never failed to
stir him, the gravid swelling, Yaji acknowledged. Those who carried new life
were doubly blessed, infinitely beautiful. That Draco, a male, did, was a
miracle.
They had watched him grow from a tiny bundle to a wildly restless and clever
child, then into an angry teenager, gone off to Hogwarts, desperate to be older
than he was, desperate to please his father and the pride. That time Draco
spent at the school had been hard, separated from all he knew, his guardians
who had been in his life daily without fail were suddenly not there. They'd
also seen the absolute devastation when Draco had to be told he was not the
heir. He was not of the pride, even if he was the son of the king. That had
come close to destroying the boy. The son paying the price for his mother's sin
of omission.
That sad day Yaji and Mantheer had been with him, cradling him as he wept. Big
and silent, offering the only thing they had. Warm hands. Safe haven. Pure
love. The promise of it never being taken from the boy. Now at last Draco was
moving beyond the love of the years before he was grown, to the possibility of
a new form of love. Yaji would not push. He knew it was a new idea for the
blond young man. And if Draco wanted it, then he would have it. As slowly and
gently as he needed.
Draco was asleep by the time Yaji reached his room. Smoothly, he lay the young
man on the furs, with careful hands undressed him, covering him with the furs,
then he curled up around him. Mantheer would be coming in from eating soon. The
news of Draco's request would be welcome.
Yaji watched Draco sleep. Here was the Mother of the heir. Not a role he had
ever expected the youngster to take. Not once in all the time he was growing to
adulthood, had Draco expressed the desire for a child he carried in his own
body. No, Draco had wanted to be king. To follow in his father's footsteps and
be the pride's second great king in succession. Yaji had believed that was the
youth's future, his destiny. But, it was not. This was.
His touch on the silvery-blond locks was light as a feather, more delicate than
his large hand looked capable of. He ran the silky strands between his fingers,
traced the arched brows that could express such a range of emotion without a
single word. Beautiful. The last vestiges of childhood were burning away,
granting more and more glimpses of the stunning young man the Mother was
becoming.
Draco stirred in his sleep. He threw a leg over the larger man's and snuggled
his face into the strong column of Yaji's neck, giving it an unconscious kiss.
That sent waves of tingling pleasure through the were-leopard. Sweet and
glorious, he would wait until the day Draco was truly ready, then Yaji would
give him his body to go with the heart the youth already possessed.
I will stand by you, he thought to himself. I will be your shield. No one will
go through me and reach you. You will always have me, you will always be safe
with me. He reached out again, stroking the length of Draco's arm from shoulder
to fingertip. He intertwined their fingers, holding hands. It warmed him,
deeply satisfying. He turned his head and placed a gentle kiss on the top of
his bed companion's hair.
***** Chapter 70 *****
Chapter 70
 
Draco woke cuddled between the two men he slept with every night since the day
he'd been hurt by Andromeda's attack. Tonight, though, everything had changed,
everything was different, he was more aware of everything about them. He had
stopped taking them for granted. At last. He paid attention to the feeling he
had when they surrounded him. He felt safe. He felt warm. He felt content.
He sat up between the large men. Mantheer, the darker of the two was stretched
out on his back, the swell of his chest sweeping down to his well sculpted
abdomen, all the way to the powerful jut of hip. His heavy genitals were soft,
unaroused, yet still drawing the eye. How large would he be if he were aroused,
Draco wondered? He shifted on the furs, closer to the bigger man. He thought
about taking that bulky mass and weighing it in his hand. He had never done
anything like that. The only time, that once with Amrys, had not involved his
touching the other man much.
Moonlight frosted the angles and planes of the big form, gleaming silver-pale
and black shadowed valleys. No one had ever called Mantheer classically
beautiful, he was all masculine power, all strength and aggressive force.
Primal man-beast as he lay sprawled in sleep. So big, overwhelming, taking up
so much more space than Draco himself. Draco looked at him, breath caught in
his throat as his gaze traveled over the exquisite swell of full bicep and
massive shoulder. He would never be so impressively huge, so daunting.
There was nothing subtle about the great body Draco watched in sleep. He extend
his hand to touch it. His palm fitted over the pectoral muscle perfectly, the
heat of Mantheer's skin rising to meet him before he made contact, he felt the
small, hard bud of the man's dark nipple against the very center of his cupped
hand. The light dusting of chest hair was silken, soft. And under his hand,
beat the steady heart. He absorbed the beat into his own body. So aware of the
life coursing through them both. He had to touch the peaked nipple, feeling the
pebbly texture, the tip, his fingers rested on it, then gathering courage,
rolled the nub. It was mesmerizing, his mouth watered with the urge to taste
it. What would it taste like on the tip of his tongue? Would he be permitted to
suck it into his mouth, to make the big man want him to? How long before he
might feel Mantheer's hand guiding him to that point, feel the arch of his body
into his own?
Draco let his hand linger for a moment longer, then he began to explore a
little more. His fingers, moving without thought, into the valley of the place
between the two great muscles of the guardian's chest, tracing the corded
junction upwards to the hollow at the base of the muscular throat. Draco found
his fingertips dipping into that space, stroking softly. Another point he
wanted to run his moist tongue over. To place a full lipped kiss, just there in
the center of it, nibble at the hollow with careful teeth, press his open mouth
around the Adam's apple and lave it with a wet and eager tongue.
His eyes followed the smooth lines of colorless light up to the thick column of
throat, saw the same pulse, the same rhythm there. He ran his touch up, over
that second pulse. Up the jaw to Mantheer's face. The dark eyes were open,
though Mantheer lay quiet under the scrutiny, allowing the young man's touch,
welcoming it. Draco's fingers stroked, gentle, across the cheek, almost shyly
to the corner of Mantheer's lips.
Firm, stern mouth, hot, unexpectedly soft, soft enough to startle a gasp from
him, his eyes widening, flying up to meet the black ones, again. Color never
survived the moonlight. Mantheer was still watching him, doing nothing to stop
him, nothing to spook the hesitant young man. Draco could not look away, could
not breathe. Mantheer waited for him to calm, then smiled. Draco's heart
flipped.
Oh, god. This was it. All the times he had thought he was in love he'd been
wrong. All the times he'd had sex, been deep inside a slender, sweetly feminine
body and believed he was in paradise, been sure he was in lust. All those times
he had been so wrong. This was it. No soft womanly form under him to fuel this
revelation. Only the hard, uncompromising male who had adored him for as long
as he could remember.
He was in love. Wonderfully, hopelessly, tenderly in love. And not with just
this one man. It was both of them, Yaji and Mantheer. It went beyond passion,
beyond sex. He had not had either with them, not yet. But, he knew he had not
loved anyone so intensely before. No one else had stolen his reason with a
simple touch of his own hand on their body. No one else made him yearn for a
touch in return.
"I don't know what I am doing," Draco whispered, the delicate flush spreading
up his face, as their eyes stayed locked.
"Yet, you do it so perfectly." Mantheer whispered back, there was no mistaking
the love in his voice, the welcome in his gaze. He lifted his big hand, brushed
the fall of bright, moon-bleached hair back. Draco rolled his head into the
caress. His lips pressed into the rough skin. He kissed the hand. Nuzzled it,
his eyes drifting shut to savor the feel of the contact, the scent, musky
spice, Mantheer's scent, one that he could recognize from his entire life. How
easy it was to go from that to taste, his parted mouth coming to rest on the
thinner skin of Mantheer's wrist, over the third pulse point he'd felt so far.
He sucked, tasted, tongue slipping out to cautiously lap at the faintly salty
skin.
Matheer's response was a quiet exhalation, a shiver that Draco couldn't miss.
Oh. Gods. Impossible. He leaned forward and down, caught and held, with long,
long seconds of anticipation before their lips met. A faint sweep of lips to
lips, soft, as tiny wings. Profound touch. They came together again. Lips
pressing this time. Innocent of lust, full of love. It rushed through Draco
like sweet golden fire.
***** Chapter 71 *****
Chapter 71
 
Lucius Malfoy sat at his desk facing the vast gardens outside. He rolled the
slim bit of metal in his hand. The ancient band was sleek and beautiful. Until
this day it had never left the arm of the woman he had given it to. Not since
the moment he had bestowed it and the honor it represented to her. Now it never
would touch her flesh again. He felt an unexpected pang of loss.
Narcissa Malfoy was gone. She had renounced him and their vows. She had left
him a letter as well as this token of their union, severing all that had been
between them, leaving only the pain, the memory of her betrayal, now twice.
Lucius rubbed his lip thoughtfully.
With her abandonment a host of new problems arose. Draco was now not his son.
Draco he could confirm as his son, but that would take time. He would have to
go through the rituals and once the rest of the pride approved, he could
formally adopt Draco. The line went through the females, it was the way of the
pride. He almost groaned with the pain that Draco would feel when he learned of
his mother's departure. She had rejected him. Draco, the one who even more than
her royal husband, had stood beside her.
She had left after all these years, she wrote her reasons in her precise,
elegant hand. The most blatant of which she had underlined in broad, dark
strokes of her pen. "You have taken your catamite to your bed, the same bed you
denied to me. Not once in all our years was I permitted to sleep in it, yet he
spreads his legs for you there every night. So, explain this to your new wife
and see if *she* will permit it."
Lucius drew in a deep breath. That in of itself was problem enough but Draco
was also pregnant. Which meant if Draco was not the king's son, then the child
he carried was not the pride's heir. Lucius shook his head. In two months time
the magically aided pregnancy would be completed. Not enough time, in all
likelihood to confirm Draco. The child, blessed as it was, miracle that it was,
would not be the heir. The sacrifice would be for nothing.
Amrys would not be the Sire. Not unless he wished and Draco permitted him to
father a second child. Draco had said with absolute conviction, that it was his
destiny to carry the heir, the seer Kaithas had agreed. The Seer, Gwyddion
Llyr, had not denied it, nor, Lucius realized, had he confirmed the child's
destiny, he had merely said how welcomed and loved he would be. So. There was
that to hang on to. The child would have love. He would have a place in the
pride. He would have happiness.
Lucius wracked his brain trying to remember the words the Seer had used. He had
called Amrys the Sire and Draco the Mother of the heir. Yet, once he had
touched Draco's belly and the mind of the child, Llyr had not called the
growing fetus the heir again. Was that significant? He had given his blessing.
Had he said to whom? Had he used the title? Lucius could not remember. He
needed to know for his own peace. He shook his head.
There were other problems. As if more were needed. He was king of the pride. He
was the line of royalty that stretched back forever, way into the distant past.
And the king had a duty to the pride. He, Lucius Malfoy, would have to re-
marry. It was not a problem for him, though he had no real desire to. But, he
had learned enough to know who it would be a problem for. Harry. His Chosen. He
would have to endure the parade of candidates for the position of Lucius' wife.
Then the courtship. Harry would not do well watching the lover he protected and
kept from others as much as he possibly could, court the future queen bride.
For once she had borne his children she would be turned, she would become the
queen and rule with him, if not precisely beside him. The pride dynamics were
exact. The pride was ruled by the three. The queen held dominion only over the
females. But once she carried his children and birthed them, she would be the
Mother of the heir. Another blow, both to Draco and to Harry. And to Amrys. Who
would not be the Sire.
The king could not deny his wife, not without great reason. Nor did Lucius feel
he should. But he knew the Chosen would feel that he was betrayed.
Harry's expectation, his demand would be that if Lucius married against the
will of the Chosen, that the marriage not be consummated, that it be a marriage
in name only. Harry had no intention of doling out even more bits of his lover,
the king, to another person. Someone who would usurp his rightful position.
Someone who would attend the pride's gatherings on the arm of the king.
Harry, Lucius was positive, didn't make a distinction between Chosen and Wife.
He considered himself the wife in all things but name, of the king. Narcissa
had been easy to ignore. But, a new and no doubt beautiful, seductive wife?
Harry would explode. He would shed blood before he would take second place.
Not only had Narcissa declared their marriage null and void, not only had she
denied Draco, the son who still loved her, but she had also sent notices of the
dissolution to all the other kings. The bride candidates could begin arriving
any second. Exempted from the wards by long custom and the laws. A courting
party could not be barred. Not until the king was wed.
Lucius dropped his head down to rest in his hand.
At that moment, as Amrys sensed the disturbance in the king and headed that
way, Harry rounded the corner of the great hall, running smack into the small
contingent of strangers entering the Arena. He stopped. Staring at them. At the
beautiful young woman who stood in the center of the five person group.
"Who are you?" He asked, knowing she was not one of the pride's women. She
looked down her perfect nose at him, lifting her chin. He frowned.
"I am Chrythys and I will be the wife of the king. Out of my way young-ling."
She said, haughtily. The guardian standing closest to Harry made to push him
aside. Harry bristled.
"Over my dead body." He snarled at the woman. He turned his face towards the
man who's hand had almost touched him. "Do not touch me. And no one is marrying
my king."
The voice that came from behind Harry was carefully neutral. The pride's third
moved up, placed an arm around the thin shoulders. "What occurs here?" Graeme
asked. Harry was rigid with indignation.
"This kitten seeks to bar us from entry. We have the right to court the unwed
king. The laws so state. Move him out of our way." The woman ordered, tossing
her head.
"He has a right to stand where he will. He is the Chosen." Graeme retorted.
"And our king is wed already."
"His wife has renounced him. She announced it to all but you." The lady said, a
satisfied smirk on her face. "So stand aside, leopard. I will court the king."
Harry strained against Graeme's hold. Graeme wrapped his arm tighter.
"How wise you are, then if you wish to rule here, to antagonize and make an
enemy of the king's Chosen, and of his third." Graeme sneered. She faltered,
looking at Harry again.
"He is a kitten. Barely of age. He can not truly be the Chosen." Her voice was
finally less than certain. He was sure her beauty had made people refuse her
few things. She was not used to not getting every thing she wanted or asked
for. Harry hissed at her, finally relaxing fractionally in Graeme's hold. His
emerald eyes were filled with warning. She flinched back from the look.
"Oh, lady, but he is. He is." Graeme let her see his teeth as he smiled.
***** Chapter 72 *****
Chapter 72
 
"No." Harry said.
"No?" Lucius asked.
"No." Harry confirmed.
"But..." Lucius ventured.
"No." Harry said.
"Hmmm." Lucius volunteered.
"No." Harry reasserted.
"It is customary." Lucius tried next.
"No." Harry told him, brows lowering over his glittering emerald eyes.
"It does not touch on my love for you." Lucius offered. He touched Harry's
cheek gently. "It is part of the courtship."
"No." Harry shook his head. He turned into the hand, loved it. He was not
sharing with anyone new.
"I must remarry." Lucius said, quiet but firm. "There is no way around it."
"No." Harry was more certain that ever. He lifted his eyes to meet those pale
ones of his lover. "The Seer said we can not be parted. The pride needs you as
its king. But, I will not stand by and watch you wed."
"It is the law, Harry." Lucius began, trying to make his voice soothing. Harry
stiffened.
"Never say those words to me as justification." He spat out. "I am sick and
tired of them. I have looked the other way as you have taken Fred and Troy to
your furs. I will not do the same while you take some woman and name her your
wife and queen. It is too much. Making more babies with her. No."
"I can not stop it, it has begun and will go on until I have taken a new wife.
You did not say anything against Narcissa." Lucius pointed that fact out.
"She was from before I came to the pride. You *never* went to her bed. I never
smelled her scent on you. She was the past." Harry growled. "I won't put up
with a woman who wants you, who you want. Who you will take to bed."
"You are my Chosen. There is no one who I want more than you." Lucius told the
youth, truthfully. "I will take no other into my own bed."
"Yet you continue to pile lovers up higher and higher, in other beds, telling
me I must allow it. That it should not bother me. That I should be happy for
you? No!" He yelled the last. "I won't watch you do this! You won't marry!"
"I am required to wed the woman the pride chooses, Harry. She has the right of
refusal, not I." Lucius tried again to reason with the furious Chosen. Harry
vibrated with outrage.
"No." Harry responded, jaw clenched.
"I must. Harry I can't say no." Lucius pleaded, feeling an edge of worry
building. Harry was more determined than he'd been before, there was a new
quality, a resolve that hadn't been present.
"I know you can't say no." Harry snorted bitterly. "I also know that the Seer
said you and I must remain together. So. I will go to the pride and I will
refuse in your stead."
"Harry, you can not. The laws..." Lucius started, laying a hand on his Chosen's
forearm.
"Do not spout your laws at me!" Harry roared, shaking the hand off. "I am sick
and tired of it. I. Will. Not. Allow. This. Mark my words, Lucius Malfoy. The
pride will listen to me. And you will not take a new wife. Period."
There was the sound of a throat clearing at the door. Both men turned to face
the interloper, neither had a welcoming expression. It was Kaithas. The seer
did not look happy.
"Lucius, my king. There are over a hundred women waiting to meet with you. They
are filling the Arena, you have kept them waiting for hours. It is time for you
to meet them." He cast a wary glance at the Chosen. Harry stood up. Kaithas
gulped, the power that radiated off the Chosen was not a good combination when
coupled with the pure rage he saw in the beautiful face. Harry going to the
Arena with them would be a disaster.
"The king goes alone by custom, he can not court the brides with his Chosen at
his side. I will escort..." The seer began. Harry cut him off.
"If he goes at all, he goes with me. He will not go to them alone. Make your
choice, seer." His eyes were narrowed, dangerous. Kaithas looked at Lucius.
Lucius shrugged, his face blank, offering no answers.
Kaithas bowed and gestured for them to follow him. Harry took the king's arm.
Lucius had enough sense not to protest. He would ease Harry into this. Harry
would come around. He was sure of it. It would just take time.
An audible gasp was the greeting they received as they entered the full Arena.
There were at least a thousand people in the room. They dwarfed even its vast
confines. Each woman had her escort, at least two, more often five or even in a
few cases six. They turned as one to watch as the king and the seer entered.
That was not all that unusual, to have the seer of a pack or pride accompany
the king, but the third person. The boy. The one that was whispered to be the
scandalously young Chosen was also here. That had never happened before in
recent or distant memory.
Harry ignored the shocked whispers, striding to the elevated stone throne, the
one place not even the bravest of the women had dared ascend. He leaped up onto
the top, dragging Lucius with him. He forestalled the king's words with a
lifted brow, his face rigid and unyielding, daring the man to protest. Lucius
decided to back down for now. Harry turned and looked out over the many faces.
"I know why you are here. You seek to court the king of this pride. I have been
told that this is the custom when a king is un-wed, widowed, or renounced by
his wife. I am told the laws of the pride permit you to come here, to offer
yourself to the pride as the future wife of the free king." He paused looking
from face to face.
"Who are you to speak to us?" Some one shouted. "We are here to be in the
company of the king. Go away with you!"
There was a roar of approval. Harry waited until it died down. Then he lifted
his chin.
"You want to know who I am. You think you know me. You think you know what I am
capable of, what I will do. You do not. I am Harry Potter. I am the Chosen of
the pride. I am also the lover of the king. And I come before you to tell you,
damn your laws. None of you will be marrying my king. I lay claim to him. He is
mine. And I am his. If he needs to take a wife, I will be the one he takes. I
am fed up with all this." He waved his arm, including much more than the
current circumstance.
"Idiot boy, you are male, you cannot be a wife." Another voice yelled. Harry's
grip on Lucius' hand tightened painfully. Lucius winced, prompting Harry to
relax the hold, but he didn't let go.
"I say to you, I will be the one he takes to wife. None of you." Harry
declared. "Leave this place, there is nothing here for you."
"You can't do that!" A woman screamed, "It is our right...."
"No!" Harry blazed with rage. "I say it is not. I will not permit it. Enough. I
will not give up any more."
"You can not stop it!"
"It is you who must leave, go back to the other young-lings!"
"This business doesn't concern you!"
"You can't stop us!"
The offended crowd surged forward as if to lay hands on him. Harry smiled, not
a pretty sight, his fangs making themselves known.
"Oh? But, I think I can." Harry said. He flung his arms out, finally letting go
of Lucius. "I say to all of you, leave this place, begone." The room was
flooded with light, bright as the sun, burning, and there were a thousand pops,
as every person vanished in that split second. Apparated away.
Lucius Malfoy stood behind the shaking figure of the boy in front of him, He
looked around, astonished, right then left. They were all gone. He would have
bet his life this was impossible even with a roomful of wizards who were
vulnerable to the workings of magic. But, with the more magic resistant
lycanthropes, he was floored, his knees unsteady. Harry had done this. This act
that no dozen wizards Lucius knew could have done, not even working in tandem.
His Chosen had done it single handedly, was still on his feet, though he was
swaying a bit. Lucius put his hands on Harry's shoulders. Harry jumped, then
settled.
"Harry. What have you done?"
"What I had to do," Harry replied. "I will not share you with a wife. I meant
what I said. If you want to marry, take me as your wife."
Lucius opened his mouth to dispute the possibility of that. Then he frowned,
looking around again at the empty room. "Merlin's balls, Harry! What have you
done with Kaithas?"
Harry winced. "Ooops." He muttered.
***** Chapter 73 *****
Chapter 73
 
"Harry?" Draco shuffled in to the room. He lowered himself gingerly onto the
piled furs. He was stiff and creaky this morning. He let out a sigh as he sat
down, then he shifted and lay down, ahhh, that was better. "I heard what
happened. Can't say I am surprised. We've been pushing you, the pride, I mean."
"I had to Draco, I can' t take more than I already have. I know it's against
the custom or the law, or tradition, but..." Harry shook his head. "Your dad is
mad at me isn't he?"
"No. I thought he would be, but...no, he doesn't seem angry." Draco responded.
"He is acting more like....he is surprised, than anything else. No one else
could have done what you did, Harry. That kind of power within the pride, it is
important, you know. He can't just tell you not to use it. It makes the pride
stronger. It protects the pride, that is one of the primary goals of the king,
you know."
Harry nodded miserably. "I just...I can't, share any more of him than I am
already, Draco. I am just now starting to accept the others, now
this...marriage thing. Forgive me, but I really hate your mother right now."
"Nothing to forgive. I am pretty pissed at her myself. She has just rejected me
and my *child*, in one fell swoop and did it in front of the whole pride. After
my father refused to dishonor her despite what she had done to him and
indirectly to me. He stood by her for *years*, refusing to deny her, protecting
her. Then she has to make her grand gesture." Draco sighed, his hand fluttering
tiredly, his back ached, he tried shifting position again.
"I am sorry that your mother left you to deal with it all. I can't understand
why she would do something like that to you. If she'd warned you, or talked to
you, maybe..." Harry said to him. He held a mug out to the other youth. "Hot
tea, take it, I added honey to it, you look like you need it. What is going to
happen to you and the heir?"
"That is one of the things we need to talk about. And how to solve your
problem, too." Draco said, wincing. Harry helped his friend settle more
comfortably, straightening the furs. He pulled a pillow over and wedged it
behind Draco's back. Draco sighed in relief, smiling his thanks. His belly was
rapidly growing and was quite visibly rounded now. Harry kept his hand on
Draco's thigh, patting him comfortingly. Harry had a good touch, a healing
touch.
"Like how? I am not backing down and letting Lucius marry one of those women."
Harry pursued the conversation. He hand remained gentle, conveying nothing but
caring, no misdirected anger. Draco pondered that, Harry, once he decided to be
your friend, went all the way for you. "That is not going to be part of the
solution."
"No. I don't think that you should. I know how hard it has been on you,
learning to live with the pride like this. I think you have done better with it
than just about anyone else could. It hit you out of the blue, I mean usually
someone in your family would have been a were-animal and petitioned the king
for you to be changed. We almost never take on new members who don't have a
relative who is also were. It must have been hard for you. I know it was."
Draco touched Harry's shoulder, squeezed it. Harry looked at him, concerned.
"Are you OK, Draco? I thought you were getting better." Harry said. Draco was
pale and he was moving funny.
"I was, I mean, I am better. I just spent too much time in the stone room last
night. Yaji and Mantheer are furious. It's...they....uhm...well that's one
reason I was looking for a way to make this work. I don't want to have to do
this again. Not because I have to. I am happy I am pregnant, I thought I'd hate
it, but I don't. Next time I do this I want it to be out of love, not duty. I
mean I love the baby, a thousand times more than I expected. I think I am in
love with them, too, Harry. I don't want to have Amrys impregnate me again. The
next time I have sex, I want it to be with Yaji and Mantheer." Draco was
blushing. Harry stared at his friend. Then he grinned.
"Never thought I'd hear the day when you'd talk about wanting to sleep with a
man! Congrats! But," he sobered quickly, "what were you looking for in the
laws? How can that help, Draco? Everyone always uses the laws to tell me what I
*can't* do. Nothing else. The laws have never been on my side, not for
anything. I can't believe they'd help me in something like this, you know."
Harry was bitter.
"I've had Kaithas call for Gwyddion Llyr. I have some questions for him. But, I
wanted you to know I am working on something. And if it works out I want you to
promise me that you'll help me. Whatever it takes." Draco was serious as he
sipped the hot tea, he put his free hand on Harry's knee. Harry moved his hand
over it, they held hands, comfortably, both at ease with the contact.
"Kaithas!" It came out as a groan. Harry smiled in spite of himself. "I don't
think he'll ever forgive me. I sent him out in the middle of a swamp, Draco. He
was soaked with water and sludge. Lucius made me wash his hair and help him
with his bath, it took hours to scrape it all off."
"He is still annoyed with you, that is for sure." Draco confirmed. "That's not
why we need to talk though."
Harry nodded. "Anything I can do, you are my friend Draco, you know I don't
abandon my friends. I'll stick by you."
"I know Harry. But this is different, it is sort of....well...weird." The blond
said.
"Weird? Now I am getting interested. I can do weird. Weird how?"
"I sat in that room and read every word in it. Every law that might pertain to
the wife of the king I wrote down." Draco shook the sheaf of papers he'd
brought with him at the other man. Harry looked impressed at the stack. "Don't
look impressed, I wasn't studying them and I might be wrong."
"Wrong about what? I 'm still waiting to hear this idea of yours. Are you going
to keep me in suspense or tell me?" Harry was wheedling when he finished his
request. He was very curious. "Come on Draco, tell me. What your plan?"
"None of the laws that I read specified the wife of the pride's king had to be
female. In fact the word wife is not used at all. Not once that I found. The
word used is mate. The mate of the king.... that is what is said in the laws.
The king's mate.... that is also used. But, no where does it say she or her, or
anything like that. No specific gender identification. And I thought if I can
be the Mother, why can't you be the Mate? I can't see much of a difference
between the two situations."
"But, I can't bear him children, doesn't it say something about that? Doesn't
his mate have to bear him children?" Harry asked, unwilling to believe that it
could be so simple, so easy. That he actually could marry his love.
"Not exactly. A child carried by the mate of the king is the pride's heir. But.
It doesn't say that the mate of the king *must* bear him children. Just what
fate those children will have if they are born." Draco shrugged, wiggling on
the furs again, readjusting his position. "Besides, Harry, even if most male
were-leopards can't have children, I bet you could, you are that powerful I
wouldn't say anything was impossible."
"Are you sure?" Harry asked, brow furrowed in concentration. "Not about me
having kids, about me being able to marry Lucius?"
"No. I think I am right, uh, but I am not sure. That 's why I am going to talk
to Gwyddion. The Seer. You remember." Draco replied. He squeezed Harry's hand
again.
"I do remember. And I also remember his friend, the other seer. The one who
couldn't keep his hands off of our alpha. He won't be coming back will he?" The
growl was unmistakable. Draco bit his lip hard to keep from laughing at Harry's
outrage.
"Why should you care if we find out what we need to know, Harry?" Draco asked.
"No one is going to mess with you after what you did to the bride-candidates.
Not even that skinny Barethes."
"Barethes." Harry breathed. He showed his teeth at the memory of Barethes
sprawled happily, and clingy, on top of the pride king. Draco, bit his lip
harder. He cleared his throat to distract the raven haired Chosen.
"He isn't important, Harry. Listen to me. If I am right, that means you can
marry my father. And if you marry my father that means you can adopt me and my
child. The line moves through the female. The queen's side." He said urgently.
"Would you be willing to do that for me, for us?"
"What?" Harry burst out, obviously disconcerted. "I am not a queen."
"If you marry my father you will be. The mate of the king is the queen." Draco
asserted. "Like I said, the situation is the same as with me. I am the Mother,
or at least I was, yet I am still male."
"Draco, I am definitely getting a headache, here." Harry moaned. "Scoot over I
want to lay down."
"It is simple. The Mother is sacred to the pride. The mate of the king is
sacred to the pride. The female is sacred to the pride. She is the bringer of
life. My father is king. His father was king. My son will be king. If I am
adopted by my father. Then I will be his son again. My mother denied that I was
her son when she renounced Lucius and their vows. Do you see?"
"Nope. But, tell me what you want me to do. I'll do it." Harry said, snuggling
up to Draco. He was beginning to see why the lycanthropes liked to be in piles
of cuddling bodies. It was nice to be up close and personal. Even with people
who were not his lovers. He sure liked sleeping with Lucius, Amrys and Graeme.
Probably as much as he'd like to sleep with Lucius alone. he just wasn't going
to admit it out loud. Not yet.
***** Chapter 74 *****
Chapter 74
 
Severus Snape waved his wand over the nicely rounded belly. Draco's baby was
growing quickly, at least thrice as fast as a normal pregnancy. Not at all
uncommon for a magically aided gestation. The baby was, to every appearance,
hale and hearty. Draco himself was at last looking healthy, his color improving
and his energy on the mend.
The two guardians who seemed to be his near constant companions were hovering,
both sets of sharp eyes fixed on the wizard's face, waiting for the verdict.
Snape fought to control the irritation he felt at being watched so closely. It
was good, he told himself, that Draco was being protected so intently. One of
them maintained contact with the blond young man at all times. Either touching
with a hand or other body part, not intrusively, but always there, always
supporting him. Always watchful.
"You are doing very well. The child will be born soon. The wounds you sustained
from Andromeda are just about gone." Snape reassured Draco and secondarily the
two large companions. Yaji ran a large, dark hand down Draco's side, gentle as
petting a kitten. "I think you have no more than another two weeks, perhaps
less. Then we will have to deliver the child."
"That soon?" Draco asked, more anxiously than Snape expected. It was impossible
to miss the note of worry. He gripped the hand that was in his. Mantheer leaned
in closer, making an almost inaudible purring sound of comfort.
"There is no need to be concerned, the child is healthy," Severus began, only
to have Draco shake his head and look up at the taller of his two shadows. The
man reached out and stroked his shining cap of hair, his palm coming to rest,
cupping the pale cheek. Snape raised his brows at the sheer possessiveness of
the touch, but only kept on speaking, his voice steady and matter of fact. "I
will check with you every day. In another week I will come and stay with you at
the Manor, until the child is born. You needn't worry."
"He is concerned because, if the child is born before he is adopted by the
queen, then the child will not be acknowledged as the pride's heir." The
muscular guardian Mantheer said quietly, while Draco permitted himself to be
lifted up out of the furs and hugged. His pale eyes were haunted with dread.
Big arms surrounded him.
Snape blinked. That was a new twist. "I thought he was already acknowledged as
the heir." Snape stated. Then he asked. "What has happened to alter that?"
"He was, then the wife of the king left him. She denied her son." That was the
towering Yaji, showing a mouth full of fangs and plenty of anger. Snape
regarded him thoughtfully. He fought his surprise. He would have bet Narcissa
would have held on to her position as Queen with both taloned hands, needing to
be pried away nail by nail. She enjoyed the position and the power it gave her,
the prestige. Snape was as close to shocked as he'd ever been, that she had
voluntarily left Lucius.
"When did this happen?" Snape asked sharply, turning his attention back to
Draco who was fidgeting restlessly. Mantheer rubbed his face along the crown of
Draco's head. His dark eyes blazed.
"Two weeks past." Draco said. He wouldn't meet the other wizard's inquiring
gaze.
"Delightful." Was what Snape said in return. "I told you to avoid stress, yet
you didn't think to mention this before now?" He no doubt would not have heard
anything even now if the guard had not spoken up. Draco had learned to keep
pride business secret at the knee of his father. The ultimate stoic.
Then again, the drama had been learned at the foot of another master, his
mother, Narcissa Malfoy. She had a gift to turning every situation to her own
advantage. Until she undermined herself with the lie to the Were-leopard king.
She had dug the hole too deep that time. Despite her beauty and her wiles, he
had never taken her back into his bed or into his affections. Yet, Lucius had
still cared enough not to denounce her, or their son Draco. No. It was Narcissa
herself who suddenly decided to make her grand gesture and reject her own son.
Snape was appalled by her complete lack of maternal and parental instinct.
Suddenly, Snape frowned, a thought occurring to him that demanded an answer.
"If Narcissa has left, then who is this queen who will be adopting you?" Gods
forbid there be another, newer version of Narcissa waiting in the wings. The
answer he received took him aback.
"Oh, uhm, Harry. Harry is going to adopt me. He is the queen." Draco explained,
quite distracted by the soft, wet tongue licking at the side of his neck, "Uh,
or he will be soon. Be queen I mean. As soon as father marries him."
Severus Snape was now caught in a quandary. Draco seemed utterly, completely
serious, not at all as if he was pulling his former professor's leg. But, Snape
was having a hard time not bursting out into laughter. If he had been a man
given to casual amusement, he would have been laughing already. As it was, he
was having a hell of a time not chuckling. The too serious Harry Potter, a
bloody queen. He sniffed delicately, concentrating on methodically replacing
his implements and herbs in the shrinking satchel he'd brought with him. Once
done, he looked at his patient, the urge to laugh successfully contained.
"Hmm. I can see I am woefully behind on the news." Snape said with quiet
dignity, biting his tongue hard, fighting the twitch at his lip that threatened
to bloom into a grin. The pride was an interesting place to spend any amount of
time. "Do you have any further questions today?"
Uhm." Said Draco. He very carefully didn't meet Snape's eye. Severus waited
patiently for the question he strongly suspected was coming.
"Yes?" He encouraged, when Draco seemed unable to continue. The were-leopards
were abruptly more restless. Moving in the background, uttering low growls,
sensing his upset. They glared at Snape. He drew up to his full, normally
intimidating height and stared right back, waiting.
"Can I have sex?" The youth whispered. Sex. Snape congratulated himself on the
sheer predictability of young male Homo sapiens sapiens. Mankind of the teen-
aged variety.
"Yes of course, why would you.....oh, I see. Hmmm." Snape was now reevaluating
all the touching that had been going on. Not protective. Not exclusively. He
kept his eyes on Draco, not giving in to the desire to stare at the two huge
hunks fussing over his former student. Draco was not talking about heterosexual
sex. Nor, if Severus was any judge was he talking about being the dominant
partner. From the few encounters Snape had with the were-animals, he guessed
Draco would be the lucky receiver of all that attention and energy the men
behind him were barely able to control even now.
Draco was beet red.
"Well. No. I would have to say I would not advise that kind of activity." Snape
said managing to keep his tone even. He was studying the two huge men,
remembering how it had felt to take Amrys inside of his own body. And Amrys was
not so large as these two. Draco was also proportionally smaller than himself.
No, *not* a good idea. He shook his head.
"You are not built to carry a child, Draco. Your body is less protective of the
child. I think it best if that kind of....extreme penetration...anal
intercourse, not be attempted until after the birth of your child." Severus
said. And Draco nodded, his color gradually returning to normal. "Aside from
penetration, I would think other gentle sexually pleasing activities should not
cause any harm."
Draco sighed, the flush fading slightly. "Thank you Professor Snape."
"I will be by to see you tomorrow morning." Severus Snape said. "I trust you
will send for me if there is any change or concern before then. Remember. Rest.
No stress. Eat well and exercise moderately." He turned to go. Draco called out
after him as he reached the door.
"Don't forget to stop by and see Amrys. He has been asking after you." Draco
called. Snape fought the inexorable tide of his own blush.
'Yes,' He thought to himself, 'I believe I will.'
It was less than half an hour later that Severus found himself flat on his back
with his legs in the air, enjoying every moment of the undignified position, as
Amrys reminded him of just how incredible sex with one particular lycanthrope
was. His eyes rolled up in his head as Amrys lapped at his throat, teeth
grazing ever so carefully. Gods.
***** Chapter 75 *****
Chapter 75
 
Harry was sitting in the dark, a bare shadow in the corner of the room, a pale
ghost, sitting on top of the furs that were the rooms only furnishings. He was
alone, Graeme noted.
Graeme didn't bother to ask why Harry was sitting alone in the dark, thinking.
He could feel the agonizing the boy was going through from where he stood. If
he needed any more proof, Harry never reacted or turned to see who it was when
Graeme entered the room, too deep in his own thoughts to notice he was no
longer the only one in the room.
The decision for Harry to marry Lucius was the wrong one, unwise and unsafe.
Graeme, as much as he unwillingly understood Harry's feelings and how far he
had been pushed, believed that. The traditions were wrong in this one case, but
they should, they had to, be upheld. Lucius would lose much needed support and
allies if he wed the boy instead of a female bride. Wed the correct female and
Lucius would gain immeasurably. To the pride's benefit.
But. Harry was in pain. He had begun to accept small changes, allowed himself
to enjoy being held, touched by others. He was starting to accept what it was
to be pride. What Graeme was struggling to teach him. Only there was so much
more he had to know, to experience, to accept.
Yet, none other had bedded him. It was not right. It should change, Harry
should live the role of Chosen to the fullest extent, not use the title as he
was to stay near Lucius and for naught else. He had to be the Chosen for the
pride, not for only his own interests. But, Harry was too wrapped up in the
changes to calm and look at the events objectively. He was too bound up in the
threat of loss to step back and listen to reason.
Graeme was here to do what he could to alter that. He stepped forward coming up
close behind the Chosen, not missing the tension in the slender back. Smelling
the fear. Knowing that what he was going to do, what he had to do, what was his
duty to do was going to make it worse if he wasn't careful and unbelievably
lucky. Harry was not going to want to take what Graeme offered, what he needed
to have. What the Chosen was entitled to, what the third could provide to him.
Yet, it was right. It was the way of the pride. And Harry was now pride.
Graeme, when Harry still didn't react to his nearness slid in behind the youth,
shaping his body around the stiff and cool skinned one. Chilled. Graeme held
him close. Harry jumped, drawing in a sharp, scared breath. Graeme wrapped his
arms around him, murmuring his comfort, offering his own body's heat.
"Harry." He said, very quietly. "Will you listen to me? To what I have to say?"
"No. Don't. Please. Graeme. Please?" Harry's reply was a faint whisper of
sound. His hands clutched at the arms that held him, making it clear he was
talking about the words he didn't want to hear, that he knew were coming. Not
the touch. Not the offer of companionship. That, he wanted, craved.
He shivered, prompting Graeme to hold him closer, feeling how Harry melted into
his embrace. And he noted once more that the way this defiant young man
surrendered was the most exquisite act that Graeme ever witnessed. When he'd
seen it happen for Lucius, his king, it had been breathtaking. Now, the trust,
the submission, was so much more. It humbled him, for he knew his own acts of
surrender had never been so thorough nor so deep and complete. But, he would
try.
"I can't do what you ask." Harry breathed against the forearm that was around
him. Graeme wondered briefly through the growing frustration how he could give
in so...perfectly on one point, physically, yet remain absolutely steeled
against another point, unyielding.
"You are not doing this."Graeme growled. Even as he nuzzled the soft curls of
hair at Harry's nape. "You aren't thinking about really doing it are you?"
"Doing what?" Harry asked, honestly puzzled. He was distracted by the muscles
surrounding him, the warm hands running up and down his cold arms. The long
legs that were spread on either side of his own. They felt good. And the thick,
very long chestnut/auburn hair that enfolded him, fell over his own shoulder,
across his chest, Graeme's luxurious locks. He turned his face involuntarily
into the silken strands, smelled Graeme's male musk on them, closed his eyes
and breathed. His heart beat began to accelerate.
"Forcing Lucius to marry you. It will cost him too much. That is not the role
of the Chosen. To cost the pride." Graeme said so quietly, so gently, that it
took a moment for Harry to understand what he had said. He frowned, but it was
hard to be angry, he felt drained instead. He struggled inwardly to marshal his
righteous indignation.
"I am not forcing him to marry me. But, I am not going to stand by and let him
marry someone else." Was the sharp retort, the sharpness faded quickly though,
as Graeme continued his petting. It was mesmerizing being touched like this.
Not sexually, but sensually. The touch wandering over his chest, his belly down
over his trembling thighs. Harry had no urge to progress to sex, but he wanted
this, whatever it was, to continue. Even while he was getting a bit mad. The
pride's third was explaining.
"It is the way of the pride. The king must be married. Even if no other member
of the pride is married, the king must be wed. It is tradition. Alliances
depend on it, the stability of the prides and packs, the nests. The relations
between the kings, it all relies on the traditions, knowing what to expect from
each other." Graeme said against the skin of Harry's neck. Harry lifted his
chin, let the feeling of that hot breath move over him like a wave. His skin
tightened, softened, he moaned, dragging his answer from himself. Forcing it
out in words that Graeme could decipher.
"There is nothing in the laws that say the bride of the king must be female.
And are you implying none of the other kings have taken male lovers? Are they
horrified by the thought?" Harry asked, even as he let his eyes fall closed,
let his body fall back to rest more securely in the man's arms. He wanted the
fangs on him, scraping his throat, yes, just like that.
"Think, kitten. The Queens will not tolerate it. The females are half of us, it
is their traditional position of power. They won't give it up to you. Any more
than the males will let a queen rule the pride, or any group. They won't let
you start a precedent." Graeme said, when he had lifted his head from the bite-
able flesh. Harry didn't react to the statement. Graeme sighed. Now the hard
part.
"It is always been. It is tradition that the king marry a female. You will not
prevent him." He said, making his voice firm and commanding. Harry's answer was
just as firm, but not so commanding. Still, Graeme knew the youth meant it,
every word.
"Yes. Graeme, I will. I won't stand by and let him take a woman, or anyone but
myself to wed."
"It is not your choice. You have no say. Relent, don't pit yourself against
tradition."
"I do." Harry sighed, rolling so he lay half atop Graeme, pinning him as much
as Graeme held him. His fingers dug in, not hurting but far stronger than he
should have been. "If there is one among the female brides who thinks she can
take me, then let her try. I will stand against any and all of them, each one
who comes for him. They will not win him from me, I claim him as my own."
"No. It will turn the other kings against him." Graeme insisted, testing the
kitten's hold, finding it secure, unbreakable, yet not painful. "You must not
force him to this." He said meaning two things.
"I have to." Harry's eyes filled with tears, also meaning two things. His hand
wound in the long hair, tightening. "Don't you understand?"
"I do, Harry. More than you believe I do." Graeme said, at last. "I know you
love him. I know you want him. I know you are Draco's friend and you don't want
to see him and his child displaced."
"And...the other?" Harry asked. Moving up and over the larger man, pressing him
back into the furs, the fire growing in his eyes, even as it burned in his
belly.
"You are my king's Chosen. My pride's Chosen, I am here." Graeme said, partly
answering Harry's question.
Graeme raised Harry's hand to his mouth and licked the shaking palm. A long,
wet stroke of his tongue. Harry gasped, trying to pull away.
"No." He said. "I won't hurt you."
"Harry. Gods damn it. It won't hurt me. Use me. This is what I am here for. I
am supposed to be for you. Don't you understand?" Graeme snapped. Harry was
dazed-looking, his wants battling hard with his conscience. His impression of
right and wrong.
"I..." He bent down without thought and raked his suddenly leopard fangs across
the throat of his third. He felt the shiver, the bending to his will, the
tremors in the body of the other. It drew everything within his belly tight.
Surrender. He growled. Panted. Burned. "This..."
"Yes. You are alpha for this night." Graeme whispered, going soft and
receptive. "Take what you need from me. Let me serve."
Harry moved in, claws sprouting from one instant to the next, long and sharp.
He sliced the clothing from the tall, strong body, not so carefully, drawing
tiny drops of blood as well. He leaned down, licked at them, at the wounds,
tasted salt, copper, male, heat, lust....
***** Chapter 76 *****
Chapter 76
 
Lucius watched as the young man licked the raw scratches decorating the long,
muscular legs that were parted accommodatingly for him, his two hands, small
and square with long, agile fingers, were clutched around the thick wrists he
held. Graeme's eyes had locked onto Lucius as soon as he entered, but the third
had said nothing, didn't move or try to free himself, not alerting Harry that
the king was here.
The thick, raven curls were plastered to Harry's wet cheeks, he could smell the
tang of sweat and arousal, Lucius thought the youth was the most beautiful
sight he had seen, holding Graeme's wrists, flushed with heat, panting, his
tongue flicking out, lapping at Graeme's skin, his flesh, rubbing his face
along the powerful thighs and groin. Ignoring the erection that was tautly
pressed, straining, against the third's abdomen. Lucius bared his fangs
soundlessly and stepped nearer.
The big hand in his hair took a moment to register. Then Harry spun around,
coming face to face with Lucius. He gasped, wanting to blurt out an apology, to
beg for forgiveness, but it wasn't censure or accusation that was in the king's
expression. Lucius forced the youth back down, until he lay sprawled on top of
Graeme. Then the big man followed him down. Lucius transferred his gaze from
huge, emerald green ones to the dark blue eyes.
"Your timing could use some work." Graeme muttered from under Harry, actually
not minding that Harry's nicely rounded buttocks were pressed down on his
pelvis. He made himself lay still, waiting for his king to speak, the only
action he took was to wrap his arms around Harry's torso to steady him. Lucius'
eyes blazed, his lips thinning, and Graeme wished he had not made even that
small joke. His king was in no mood for it.
"You were going to allow him to be alpha?" Lucius asked, his speech clipped and
very precise. Rarely a good sign. "You were going to submit to him?"
"Yes." Graeme said, forehead wrinkling as he realized his king was very angry,
barely controlling his temper. Then, it, the anger, won free....a bit.
"NO." The king growled. "Not this time and not ever, until I tell you."
"Yes, my king." Graeme murmured, canting his head a little to the side, baring
his throat, trying to soothe his king, laying trapped under the Chosen. He was
surprised to have his king protest. He was not prepared for the very clear
anger in the other man. Lucius leaned down, his second hand fisting in Graeme's
hair, twisting hard. Harry moved a tiny bit off to one side.
"I do not want my Chosen going to you or to any other for something I can not
give him. I will never lay under him, I will never beta for him." Lucius ground
out. "And you will not either. He is not alpha." He shook his third by the
fistful of hair.
"Yes, my king." Graeme returned, pushing down his shock. Lucius shoved Harry
further to the side, coming to rest fully on top of Graeme. He was hard, erect,
dominant. Fierce.
"Did I offer him to you?" Lucius snarled. Graeme blinked. Some how he knew that
the offers of the past were not what Lucius was asking him about. That, in the
king's mind, they did not stand, had no relevance here and now. He shook his
head the little that was allowed him in the tight grip.
"No, my king." He whispered, knowing he was on uncharted ground, that he had to
learn the new rules or suffer. "I presumed."
"You wish to usurp what is mine?" Lucius hissed at him, bringing their faces
very close. His strong grip hard, still caressing. "Are you challenging me, my
third?" His pale eyes glittered. He shared the vision of his lethal teeth.
"No, my king." Graeme whispered again. He fought down the urge to free himself.
His heart was pounding. Adrenaline rushing, wanting him to move, to react, to
respond and defend. And he would have, if this was not his king who crouched
over him.
"Then show me that you are not. Submit to me, not to this boy. Take the risk
with me, where you will not be in control. Where I will take what I want, not
what you deign to give me." Lucius demanded in the guise of asking. Graeme knew
there wasn't really a choice. He lifted his chin, letting the other man see the
unprotected length, the pulse at his carotid.
"I serve you my king." Graeme responded, wide-eyed, breath coming short. "Take
what you will, alpha." He was ready, but it seemed someone else was not. Harry
was shaking with terror, yet bravely tried to intervene.
"Lucius, Lucius. Wait." Harry was recovered enough to pull on the were-leopard
king's arm. Diverting his aim. "What are you doing? Don't hurt him. Not over
me."
"You defend him? When he was taking what was mine without my leave?" The king
asked, dangerously low, eyes hooded, menacing. If he was not the Chosen, not
beloved, then Graeme would have been truly fearful for his safety. As it was,
he didn't want the young man hurt.
"What? You have made it very clear that you wanted him to do this with me. You
want him to have sex with me. Are you denying it?" Harry was incredulous. His
voice rose an octave, ringing with his surprise.
"Harry," Graeme hissed, urgently, "shut up." Lucius had rounded on the boy,
still straddling Graeme, but his attention fixed on Harry, now. Harry didn't
understand what this was, what this play meant, how it was necessary for king
and third to play out between them.
"You seek to challenge me?" Lucius rumbled, warningly. His head tilted to the
side watching with predatory eyes, waiting for the answer.
"No, no my king." Graeme squirmed under the larger man. "He does not. I am
here, my king, let me serve. Let me show you, you are my alpha." Graeme was
determined to keep Lucius' focus on him, not on the vulnerable young-ling. The
young one who didn't know when he was playing with fire. Harry looked baffled,
but determined, his brow wrinkling, sensing the under currents at play, but not
grasping them entirely. His nervous, pink tongue lapped at his lips, Graeme
nearly groaned aloud at the sight. It also drew the king's interest. Not so
good.
"You are my king." Graeme said with quiet conviction that at last succeeded in
drawing Lucius' attention fully back to him. Lucius let his fangs extend
slowly, long and longer, Harry watched in fascination, understanding viscerally
that this display was different, far more frightening than the quick
transformations from human to fighting leopard. This was on the edge of
control. He gasped. That brought the king's eyes back to roam over him.
Graeme ground his teeth in frustration. He turned under Lucius, pulling his
hair to one side, baring his back. He shifted his hips, undulating. It had been
a long time since Lucius had asked for this but Graeme remembered how his king
liked it.
The ice-grey eyes focused on the long lines of muscle displayed before him, the
very broad, intimidatingly powerful shoulders, marred with a few faint
scratches, otherwise perfect, tapering down to the man's solid waist, and to
the gloriously rounded mounds of his buttocks. Lucius growled. Graeme arched,
intent on keeping his king focused. Lucius reached out with long claws.
Harry panicked, thinking Lucius was going to punish, to actually harm Graeme
for something Harry had done. He tried to grab the king's arm, but to do it he
had to lean across Graeme. Graeme caught him easily in one arm, wasting no time
in dragging Harry underneath him, protecting him from the distracted swipe
Lucius sent in the youth's direction. The king wasn't trying to hurt his
Chosen, the third knew, just to bat him out of the way, to physically scold him
and warn him off of interfering. Graeme absorbed the light smack, using the
opportunity to wriggle Harry further under his own body and to tantalize the
aroused king at the same time.
"Hush. Be still. Don't defy our king." Graeme hissed into Harry's ear as the
boy squirmed.
***** Chapter 77 *****
Chapter 77
 
Harry fought until he managed to turn over, laying face up under the older and
larger were-leopard. He clearly felt Graeme straining to keep the combined
weight of Lucius and himself from falling onto Harry. Graeme's skin was
rippling, surging, as his body attempted to shift while he battled to stay
human. Harry held on with both hands, clinging and watching his king, his
usually tender lover, recognizing the alpha was dangerous, for all he was
moving with controlled deliberation.
Lucius was pressing down hard, both clawed hands digging into his third's
shoulders. Harry was horrified to see the thin trails of blood flowing from
multiple claw marks on the ivory pale shoulders. Beyond Graeme he heard Lucius
growling. The long sliver blond hair had fallen away from the tie that had held
it back. Now it was a curtain intermingling with Graeme's equally long, curly
locks. And sticking to the sweat dewed skin of both men.
Harry lifted his hand, put it around Graeme's neck, then touched Lucius' wrist.
With his other hand he reached up toward the fearsome face that snarled down.
There was such rage there. Shocking rage. He had to do something.
Graeme let out a whimpering sound, a sound of surrender, Lucius growled in
satisfaction, but Harry was shaken by it. Graeme had never made a noise like
that. It was so...lost, so submissive, it was unbearable. Aching. Harry pressed
his lips into a bloodless line, reached up to lay his hand along the king's
cheek. Lucius reared back violently, taking Graeme up with him, impaled on his
claws. The ice-grey eyes changed to molten silver blue.
"Lucius?" Harry asked. "My king?" He took a hesitant step forward. Graeme made
no move to free himself, in fact he tried to impose his body between Lucius and
Harry. He looped his arm around his king's waist, sagging down to one hand and
both knees. He pressed his face into his king's hip, mewling softly, not a
Graeme sound, a kitten's sound. Harry felt all the hair on his body stand on
end. He surged up to his feet.
"No, Harry. No. Don't. He needs this, don't force his hand." The third's voice
was thin with pain. But he kept his arm around the king while he rubbed his
face on the standing man's thigh. The position of a supplicant, asking for
recognition, asking to serve.
"He can't do this!" Harry moaned. "I love him. He wouldn't do this. He wouldn't
hurt you." He kept coming holding out his empty hands.
"Harry it isn't what you think! I must submit to him." Graeme's groan left no
impression on the younger man who wasn't listening. The copper haired man tried
to stop the youth, but Harry evaded him, twisting away. Graeme, caught in his
king's grasp couldn't lay hands on him.
"Lucius. My Chosen. I am yours." Harry said, not noticing the tears filling his
own eyes. He lifted his arms upwards. "I don't know what is making you do this,
I don't know anything about what is happening, but please, let him go. Don't do
this. Please. I am sorry. I won't do it again. Whatever you want. I promise."
Harry dropped to his knees in front of Lucius.
Lucius stared at him. At his Chosen kneeling on the floor. His heart was
pounding strongly, his nostrils flared. His Chosen, kneeling. Graeme, his
third, at his feet, begging. Submitting. As it should be. Lucius roared.
He was growling his pleasure as he carried the body of his third back to the
pile of furs. He lay him carefully down, approving of the way the big man
refused to challenge him. Seeing how he lay open, waiting to serve. So good.
Then he heard the crying of his Chosen, as the small one crawled closer,
watching him warily as if afraid. Lucius felt only surprise at that. Why would
Harry fear him? He held out his hand, tugging the slender youth nearer, pushing
him down to lay next to the larger, warmer body of the third of the pride.
"It's OK, Harry." The voice of the third murmured. Lucius growled a little to
warn them not to defy him, not to forget he was there. Graeme lowered his voice
even further. "Harry. Please. He must do this. We have done this before."
Harry gulped. Graeme spoke calmly, not as if he was frightened, or fearful. He
made no move to defend himself as Lucius lowered his body to cover the
subordinate male. Graeme welcomed him, bared his neck, closed his eyes, arching
into the contact, not away. His hands remained curled into the furs, letting
Lucius take the lead, take what he wished.
The hand that came up to bury itself in the auburn curls had claws retracted.
Lucius nuzzled the side of Graeme's face, Graeme let out a tiny whimper, a
request, was what Harry thought it sounded like. Lucius gave a rumble in
return, nosing gently around the sensitive ear, nibbling, as his legs worked
between Graeme's, spreading the other's legs wide, until he was cradled there.
Harry crawled closer, right up to the two men. He almost dared to touch them
with shaking hands, but stopped just short. Lucius' eyes found him, they were
half open, alert, but seductively-hot. Harry drew in a breath, tongue
flickering out over suddenly dry lips. His skin tingled. Lucius pressed into
the body opened to his, Graeme raising his legs, wrapping them around the
strong waist, his heels coming to rest above the small of Lucius' back, riding
up high.
Harry could smell the heat, the arousal, the desire, it was steamy, and thick
in the air. The two big men moved together, familiar, but not to the point of
contempt. Urgent, but knowing they would find what they craved. They ground
together, bodies rubbing and undulating. Graeme threw his head back and hissed
softly between clenched teeth. Harry knew what was happening then, Lucius
pushed in, withdrew, went deeper, in increments, and Graeme took it, writhing
under his king.
Lucius rode him hard, Harry knew Lucius had never taken him like this. Graeme
threw his arms up over his head, biceps flexed, gripping the furs, straining.
He let out deep passionate groans, sweat dripping from his face, his chest, his
pale nipples hard points, Lucius snarling into the curve of his neck, biting,
sinking teeth into flesh as he sank his own hardness deeper into Graeme's heat.
Mouth open, Harry watched, mesmerized as the two rocked, slammed and moved
together. Tearing at each other, their wounds healing almost as fast as they
received them, both men hovering on the edge of the change.
Graeme's scream ended it as his king drove in hard, Lucius went rigid,
climaxing, grunting into the accepting body of his third. Harry whimpered, his
body still aflame, fear and desire warring, as Lucius turned his head to regard
his Chosen.
He reached out, raising himself up off of Graeme, their bodies separating,
Graeme shuddering with the sensation as they parted, his genitals flushed with
blood, but only half hard, Harry saw. The surrender had been so great, he had
not been fully erect, he had not ejaculated. Yet he lay as if replete.
Lucius fixed his mouth over Harry's full lips, kissing him, tongue stealing
inside the warm mouth, suckling on the boy's lips, soft, sweet, mobile tongue.
Harry gave in, clutching at his lover. Held firm against his withdrawal, as if
he'd want to do that. He melted. He surrendered. Lucius lifted his head, he
growled, possessive, pure alpha. Harry sighed, trembled, needing more than
mouth on mouth. He insinuated himself closer, rubbing against the blond man.
Lucius smiled, his eyes still burning bright.
Harry was carried over onto his back, Lucius following him down. The wetness on
his genitals, sticky, slick pressed onto Harry's belly, his pelvis. They slid
together. Moved, Lucius not aroused, Harry desperately so. He whined, low and
begging in the back of his throat. He needed, he wanted, he couldn't wait.
Lucius drew back, lifted his gaze to lock onto his third. He showed his teeth,
and that drew Graeme to sitting, he crawled over, going to his belly next to
the king. Lucius laid a palm over the crown of his head, then he lifted
Graeme's face so they shared a long look. He pushed gently and Graeme rolled
over onto his back. He was hard now, fully aroused, hearing the need of the
Chosen. Lucius caressed the thick pole, running his hand up and down it's full
length. Graeme groaned, fluid leaking out copiously to slick down the tip of
his erection.
Harry squirmed, rubbing hopefully against Lucius. Lucius hugged him, running
his hands up and down the youth's flank. Harry watched hungrily as his hand
continued to stimulate and pleasure the third. Harry whined again, licked his
lips, wrapped his arms around Lucius, held on, moving sweetly against the man's
body. The king kissed him softly.
Lucius set Harry down placing him next to Graeme, who was now moaning with each
stroke of the hand on his penis. "Take what you need, my third. Pleasure my
Chosen, you have my leave. It is my wish."
Graeme never hesitated, reaching out and taking Harry into his arms, Harry
scrabbled on top of the man, feeling Graeme's rigid erection settle between his
rounded buttocks. He shivered, sliding up and back, just to feel it slip along
his flesh, over the entrance to his body. Lucius lay back, observing with half-
lidded eyes as Graeme so carefully rolled Harry over and beneath him.
Lucius' eyes, when Harry met them, were no longer sultry and seductive. They
were sharp, intent and protective. Graeme was so terribly careful, reverent,
when he touched the young man, the Chosen of the king, when his fingers glided
over his dimpling skin, when Harry threw his head back and whimpered. And
Graeme buried his nose in the riotous curls, sniffling the scent of hot,
aroused kitten.
Lucius moved in, finding the warmth between his lover's legs, stroking him
there, dipping his fingers in the dripping moisture of Graeme's arousal, mixing
it with his own and spreading it over the portal into Harry's body. He grasped
Graeme in his grip, rubbing the wet tip over Harry, lubricating the youth while
Graeme shuddered, fighting to stay still...not to surge forward and bury
himself deep in Harry in one long, stretching thrust. His thighs shook with the
effort to hold back. He let his forehead fall to rest on Harry's cheek, he let
out a cry of longing. Harry echoed him, unable to stop his body's response,
unable to stop his legs from falling wider apart, knees gripping the slim hips
between them, his own hips lifting, feet trying to find purchase, a hold on
those thick wonderful thighs, seeking to join with the man above him.
It was Lucius who prepared him, fingers seeking entrance, with infinite care,
opening him, and then he was entered by something far larger. Harry moaned his
anxious delight. He wanted this, only with Lucius near, hand smoothing the damp
hair from his forehead. Graeme so warm, hot, inside of him, stretching, oh so
very full. He writhed. Graeme moved, riding him, slowly at first, then with
greater force, pulling far out, then driving in, again and again, until Harry
shuddered, crying out, shaking with the intensity.
They met, pelvis to pelvis, twisting, teasing, filling, Harry unable to stop
the keening sounds that escaped him. Graeme growling deep in his broad chest in
return, hitching ever closer, hands gripping Harry's waist tight, then
wandering urgently down to cup the perfect globes, dragging them together,
grinding, until Harry's keen turned into desperate mewling as he neared his
orgasm. Until it flooded them one after the other, out of control.
Panting, he felt the shuddering take him over, he felt the loss of control, the
fire spreading, the melting of his bones, like ripples of water moving out from
the core, his center, exploding through him until he screamed, unable to hold
it in. He shook, tremoring, his body going lax, overwhelmed with his repeating
pleasure. He blinked, then let his eyes fall shut, felt quake after quake run
through him. Each drawing out a little sigh, a moan, until he went limp,
sweetly content, held in warm arms, dewed with sweat, so safe,
pleasured...loved.
Lucius settled down on the furs, Harry lolling exhausted, pressed to his chest,
his perspiration darkened curls wild. Graeme snuggled up behind the boy. Lazily
petting him. Until his own eyes drifted shut and he slept. Lucius watched over
them. His hand wandering from the slim body to the larger one, soothing both.
Reassuring them all was well.
***** Chapter 78 *****
Chapter 78
 
Tanith looked up when she heard the knock on the door frame. She saw the two
young men, Harry and Draco, standing, waiting for her leave to enter. She made
no attempt to keep the smile from her face as she waved them in.
Draco was up and mobile at last, heavily pregnant. Harry was supporting the
taller youth with a hand under his elbow, an arm comfortably around his back.
Tanith frowned, cocking her head to the side, peering closer at the dark haired
young man. There was something...different about the boy. He stood straight and
had a new air of confidence. He had always seemed a bit confrontational when
they had met previously. Wary and ill at ease. Now, he seemed relaxed,
solicitous, resolute. She wondered what had happened to him to change him so.
"May we speak with you, seer Tanith?" Harry asked, helping Draco to settle in
one of the large chairs in front of her desk. He was careful, paying close
attention to the other young man. He propped Draco's feet up on an ottoman,
only then took a seat of his own. Draco let out a sigh as he sank into the deep
cushions. Tanith remembered her pregnancies, the sore feet, aching legs and
screaming lower back. The ankles that had felt ready to burst. She imagined he
must be feeling all those things.
"Of course you may, Chosen." Tanith replied to the shorter of the two. She
turned to Draco. "Any of the pride may speak to me if the have need. Are you
well, Draco? The child? I was so disappointed in your mother's choice. She did
not make me aware of her intention or I would have done all possible to talk
sense into her. You have stood at her side and supported her for years. I am
ashamed that she chose to reject you and the child who was the heir."
"I am doing well." Draco said in return. "But, there is a problem in the pride
we need your help to address. It has to do, in a way, with the heir."
He called his unborn son, the heir. Tanith raised brows and pursed her lips.
The pride had taken a relieved breath when they heard the heir had been
conceived. The heir had been what they all needed. A secured future. Narcissa
had made that a pipe dream.
Tanith was furious with the inconsiderate female. It was abundantly clear she
had not cared for the wellbeing of the pride and its members. She had not made
any decisions that were not motivated by pure selfishness. In a strange way,
Tanith was grateful Narcissa was resistant to lycanthropy, that she could never
be turned, never be the true Queen and head of the pride's females. One's Queen
should be sensitive to the needs of her subjects at the very least. Narcissa
had not been able to accomplish that.
"That is one reason we are here. To give the pride its heir back." Harry
responded, steadfastly. He wore an expression of determination, his jaw set,
extraordinary, emerald green eyes fierce. "We need to speak with you, because
you hold the highest rank among the pride's females."
"I am intrigued." Tanith said, smiling, leaning forward, elbows set on the desk
top, hands clasped loosely in front of her. Her lined face was kind,
affectionate. "So. Tell me. What news?"
"I would like for you to be the next Queen of the pride." Harry Potter said,
his beautiful eyes serious as he delivered this most astonishing statement, one
Tanith had never expected to hear directed at herself. "We hope you will hear
us out before you answer, I am sure we have managed to surprise you."
Indeed they had. The females' seer stared at them, mouth agape, certain she
must have heard them wrong. An older woman such as she did not aspire to the
Queen's position, or to sharing the bed of the king. There was no reason Lucius
would want her, despite that they got along well, as alpha and seer. He was
handsome, powerful, personable, he was kind, well liked, why would he have to
ask one older than himself? A woman who could not give him more children, a new
heir? There were literally hundreds of females who wanted to share his bed, his
glorious body, and who had the ability to give him the desired children.
"That is not what I thought to hear." Tanith managed at last. It was inadequate
as a response, and she tried to think of something else. Something profound,
something witty. But the look on both young men's faces told her this was not a
prank. They were completely serious. She swallowed hard. "I am afraid that
Lucius won't agree at any rate."
"The king will agree." Harry told her quietly. "My teacher has pointed out that
if I insist that no woman be Queen, then I am taking the traditional power base
away from the females of the pride. I do not want to do that. Yet, I find it
impossible to agree to any woman marrying my chosen king, while also expecting
him to lay with her." Harry lifted his chin, defiant. He showed his teeth, lips
peeling back before he got himself back under control.
"I heard what happened in the Arena. When the brides came...." Tanith
acknowledged, softly. "I did not know what to make of it."
Harry looked away for a moment, but not before the seer saw the look in his
eyes. Harry was not going to back down on this.
"Why would you want me to sleep with the king?" She inquired, puzzled.
"I do not. I will not share him that way. If you agree to be the pride's queen,
then there will be a few stipulations that we wish for you to agree to." Harry
asserted.
She leaned back into her chair. Her gaze was fixed on them, assessing. She
looked over to the quiet Draco. He looked...serene. The pregnancy suited him
well. He was older, more mature, with an undeniable appearance of contentment.
He smiled at her confusion.
"He means it. He wants you to be Queen, but he won't share Lucius. He considers
my dad to be his. As far as women are concerned. And I have to admit, I don't
want to compete with any more of father's children. Nor a new and difficult
wife. I would rather work something out amongst ourselves." Draco said quietly,
folding his hands across his nicely rounded middle. He moved his hands up and
down as if petting the baby inside of his belly.
"I...well." Tanith took a moment. Then she plunged into the idea. "What
stipulations?"
"You will not have sex with *my* Chosen." Harry said very firmly and without
hesitation. "You will not seek to bear him children. And you will adopt Draco
and declare his child the heir. That is it."
"Don't have sex with the king? I am disappointed, he is a beautiful man, but I
will manage. I am well past the age to bear children by any means, and besides,
I am lycanthrope, I can not carry a child to term any longer. So that one is a
given. And adopting Draco...I have always loved him like he was my own son.
When it turned out he could not be one of us, I wept for him, for the pride and
for myself. There was nothing I wanted more than for him to be pride. I will
happily adopt him. For any reason." She paused. Her eyes widening when they did
not leap in and declare the joke.
"You are serious." She said, astonished all over again. "You want me to be
Queen."
"Yes. And we want you to marry my father tonight." Draco said apologetically.
"I know it is not much notice," he patted his tummy. "But, I want things
settled before I give birth. Snape says that could be anytime now." His pale
blue eyes pleaded. She looked at him, then to Harry.
Two young men, asking her to do something very unconventional and daring. To
benefit the pride. She had no doubt but that the news of the reconfirmation of
the heir would bring joyous celebration. Draco was much loved. His child most
welcome. A new heir, ready to be born any moment, a blessing. And no need to
tiptoe around a new wife, who would be seeing just how much power she could
wield, who would be testing every boundary, throwing her weight around...Ghod,
if only for that she should agree.
Tanith, seer to the females of the pride, took a deep breath, she let her eyes
move from Harry to Draco. Draco reached out, clutching at Harry's smaller hand.
Harry grabbed it in his own. They sat, holding hands, these two very different
boys, and waited for her answer.
If she said no, she had no illusions about Harry backing down. He would not. No
foreign woman was going to be brought in to be the king's wife. Harry had sent
the first brides back to where they had traveled from. Snap, easy as you
please. Stunning power. Like none she had seen before. New brides had been
turned away by a stony faced Chosen, who mysteriously seemed to know when they
were coming. None reached Lucius. None were granted any access. Harry refused
to budge. No one had been foolish enough to insist.
She took another deeper breath, closed her eyes for strength, then nodded her
head. "If the king allows, I will do it."
Harry and Draco were silent for one long tense instant, then they threw their
arms around each other and hugged each other tightly, Draco had big tears
running down his face.
"Thank you, Tanith. Thank you. I would do anything for my child. And I thank
you for this. From the bottom of my heart." Draco sniffled, Harry held him
fiercely, his eyes suspiciously bright, he pressed a chaste kiss on the other
youth's cheek.
"Oh, Draco," Harry whispered. "We have done it."
***** Chapter 79 *****
Chapter 79
 
"My back hurts." Draco said, as they were walking towards the Arena. Harry,
distracted, put a steadying arm around the other youth, offering support, but
he wasn't paying close attention at all. There was a wedding to get through
soon. By tonight Lucius would be wed. Harry was relieved it was happening so
fast, he wouldn't have much time to worry about it. At the same time, he was
annoyed that he wasn't going to be the one marrying Lucius.
"Damn." Harry said, absently, when Draco went still, obviously tensing with
pain. "I was worried that chair was too soft. Not enough support. I can rub
your back when we get to your room. Or Mantheer and Yaji can if you want."
Draco had stopped walking, bending at the waist, one hand reaching around for
his back the other low on his belly.
"I don't think it is that kind of hurting." Draco replied, as the pain finally
abated, he tried to straighten, managing only just, he grabbed for Harry's arm.
"I think we should get Professor Snape."
It took Harry a few beats before the switch clicked and he went milk-white once
he understood. "You mean...?" He squeaked. "The baby? Here? Now? You can't, it
can't....I can't..." Harry looked around the empty hall for help. No way did he
want to be alone for this untimely event.
"I am afraid so." Draco moaned. And Harry seriously considered screaming for
help.
"But they aren't married yet. It's too soon." Harry protested. "We agreed that
she would adopt you tonight."
"I know. But, there is nothing I can do about *this*." Draco said snarkily as
Harry rushed him down the hall with new urgency. "As I understand it, it just
happens when it is ready." He paused, dragging the other boy to a halt, hand
gripping Harry's arm like a vise.
"Ow. Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow....." Harry yelped. "Leggo, leggo, come on!"
"OOOOWWWWW." Draco responded. "Owwwwwwwwwww. Oh Fuck, Potter. I need to lay
down, now. I don't want to do this." His knees started to sag as if he was
going to lay down on the floor right here. Harry wrapped an arm around his
waist and heaved him back to his feet.
"Hmmm. OK.OK. OK. Let's go. This way...." Harry tired to shake the feeling back
into his mangled arm and at the same time get Draco down the hall to his room.
He was not panicking, he was *not*! "You can lay down as soon as we get you to
your bed." And not a minute before, Harry thought. Not even if he had to carry
his friend, or drag him. He looked around again. There just had to be someone
else around to do this...giving birth thingie.
"Harry. Draco. What is wrong?" It was the silky smooth, chocolate voice of the
Hogwarts Potions Master. Harry was never so gald to seen the dark haired, pale
skinned man in his life. And right behind him was the towering figure of Yaji.
Even better. Yaji frowned, sniffing the air.
"Gah." Harry tried to explain the urgency. Another contraction hit, saving
Harry from ungluing his tongue from the roof of his mouth and explaining what
was going on. Draco howled. Yaji flashed around the other two men, scooping the
blond up in his more than adequate arms. Draco dug his fingers into the man's
wide shoulders. He whimpered as the contraction faded.
"To the bed." Snape ordered, imperiously, drawing his wand. "Then send for his
father." He swept after Yaji and Draco. Harry was left standing alone, gape-
jawed in the middle of the corridor. He shook himself after a moment of
shivering relief. He offered up a prayer. Thank you, Merlin! Lucius. Right. He
could do that. He spun around ready to race away in search of the king, he took
one step and smacked into something big. Bam!
Lucius' put his arms around his Chosen, keeping him from toppling to the floor.
"What has occurred? Is there a problem with Tanith? Has she accepted or
refused?" The king grilled him. Harry threw his own arms around his king,
holding as tight as he could. He spoke into Lucius' broad chest while the big
hands continued to stroke his back.
"NO. I mean, yes. She said fine. It's Draco. He is having the baby and you
aren't married, its too soon and that means Tanith can't adopt him and all this
will be for nothing, the child won't be the heir. Draco will be upset, he said
he didn't want to do this, he was hurting a lot, now he is going to have to do
it again." Harry blurted out, gazing up at the man's face. Lucius regarded him
solemnly.
"It is not too late." Lucius said. "We will just bump up the schedule." He
whirled Harry around and headed them back towards Tanith's rooms. He swept in,
Harry in tow.
"Seer." The king greeted the older woman. She looked up in surprise, her eyes
and the eyes of the other woman in the room, went to Harry, who was clearly in
a state of agitation.
"What is wrong?" Tanith asked coming out from behind the desk. Lucius snuggled
Harry to his side, and answered the question. Harry again at a loss for words.
"Draco is in labor. We must marry now, Tanith, the adoption must be declared
*before* the child is born." The king told the seer. His voice was steady.
Harry thought that he was shaking plenty for the two of them. He thought about
it some more. Draco was having the baby, right now.
Behind them someone cleared his throat. It was Graeme. The tall were-leopard
strode into the room after receiving a nod of permission from the seer.
"Amrys is with Draco. Tambyn is also here with a bride he wishes you to
consider." Graeme said neutrally. Harry felt blood rush into his brain until
his head was pounding with rage. He literally saw red. He was half-way out the
door before Graeme caught up with him, looping a restraining arm around the
youth. Harry snarled, kicking out.
"No way. No. He isn't...we have it all worked out. I won't....let me go!" Harry
was hissing, struggling to free himself. His arms waved, he was energetic,
determined, but not terribly good at warding off an attack or freeing himself
from a skilled hold. Or any hold at all the man holding him reflected.
Graeme decided he was going to have to teach Harry to fight. The young were-
leopard was certainly strong enough, but he flailed, dispersing his strength
making his efforts ineffectual. Graeme made soothing noises until Harry calmed.
Graeme wasn't fooled for an instant.
"You can let me go now." Harry growled, irritably. He slyly cut his eyes
towards the door, measuring the distance, unobtrusively. Half a dozen steps
would do it.
"I really don't think so." Graeme said, amusement and affection in his tone. "I
think we will go together, you and I. Unless I am mistaken, Lucius and Tanith
have a wedding to see to."
 
Tambyn was aggrieved. He crossed his impressive arms over his chest and glared
down at the diminutive Chosen of Lucius' pride. The boy was a never ending
source of exasperation and trouble, he thought. If the boy was his, he would
cheerfully administer a well needed spanking, *if* he were certain the third
standing next to the Chosen wouldn't defend the whelp. Instead, he sighed and
tried to make the boy see reason. It wasn't Tambyn's fault that Lucius allowed
others to spoil his Chosen.
"I am not offering insult, Chosen. But, your king must marry. And you are
frightening off all candidates. It can not continue. She is the sister of my
own wife. It is an honor I am bringing to your king." Tambyn rumbled, crossly.
Harry returned the glare and crossed his own arms across his narrow chest.
"No." Harry said. "No *fucking* way." The deep growl was disconcerting coming
from such a small creature, Tambyn frowned, just stopping himself from taking
an involuntary step back from the enraged youth. He drew himself up even
taller, looming over the young man. Harry showed the were-wolf king his teeth.
Graeme inched closer.
"Harry. You have dared to threaten even a seer, you would have attacked him if
you weren't held back. You have forced the king into granting you unreasonable
promises. This can not continue." Tambyn tried to insist. Harry showed more
teeth. They were certainly going to have a physical confrontation, Tambyn
realized. Then a voice cut into the thickened, tense atmosphere.
"I have my bride." Lucius said into the charged silence. "Come see me wed."
"Now? Without council present?" Tambyn stuttered. "I have brought...." He waved
his arm at the cowering girl who was diligently keeping her brother in law
between herself and Harry. Lucius shook his head in negation. Tambyn sighed.
Lucius gestured with an arm.
"Yes. Now. Come and be witness that the king of this pride is wed and needs no
other brides delivered to his doorstep." The were-leopard king said. "Keep your
bride for another king, one who needs her excellent services." Lucius held his
arm out to Harry. "Come Chosen. Time is short."
Harry rushed to him, remembering about Draco and the fact the child wanted to
be born NOW. He shot a last, telling glare at the were-wolf king and the
shrinking bride. Then he was running down the hallway with Lucius at his side,
and everyone else at their heels.
***** Chapter 80 *****
Chapter 80
 
Harry took one look at Draco when they entered the room, flushed nearly purple
and averted his eyes. Draco was mostly naked, his legs flung out to the side,
unashamedly swearing a blue streak. Amrys was at his side, patting him, getting
growled at for his trouble. The big second of the pride was cowering back,
nodding and accepting all the aspersions to his manhood Draco was flinging at
him. Harry gawped at the novelty of a submissive Amrys. He stumbled into
Graeme's back.
Harry blinked, not believing his eyes as Draco strained up into the air, face
red and dripping, the space between his legs filled with hands and Snape's
broad , bare shoulders. Severus Snape was wearing nothing more than a pair of
his perfectly ironed trousers. His hands were already wet, with.... Harry
gulped and faced front. Oh, god!
Snape was hunched down between the youth's spread legs, Draco had flung one leg
over the man's back but Harry had seen...everything. Most especially that Draco
was a girl. Well not exactly a girl, but definitely a boy-girl or girl-boy. He
had *both* kind of parts. Harry was pretty certain that was new. I mean, he
would have noticed if it wasn't. Wouldn't he? Sure he would. He swallowed,
feeling a bit dizzy. Graeme supported him as he swayed, turning decidedly green
when Draco let loose with another piercing howl.
Mantheer let out a low snarl, moving to conceal Draco's bare form as the group
fully entered the room. Snape looked up from his exam, Draco's leg now around
his neck and scowled, flipping a covering over the young man. Draco, for once
didn't seem to care. He let out a moan, body curling in on itself as another
contraction hit. He hissed.
Lucius headed immediately for his son.
Mantheer, barely managed to keep his reaction to a mild growl. He was fighting
his protective reaction, the man approaching was his king! But the snarl came
out anyway. Lucius noted it, went to his knees, crawling forward to the edge of
the bed, presenting the lowest profile that he could, the least threatening
posture. He kept a wary eye on the men surrounding Draco.
A were-leopard protecting its mate during child birth was nothing to toy with.
Not even if one were a king. He reached out slowly, touching Draco's hand, it
was squeezed tightly, then released, as Mantheer's displeasure became
significantly louder. Yaji added his own growl, creeping closer across the bed
furs, eyes gone golden with a predatroy gleam. Amrys, next to him, bared teeth,
eyes also glowing dangerously. Lucius wisely withdrew, certain that Draco was
being well cared for.
"I would suggest a very short and immediate ceremony." Severus Snape ventured
from underneath the cloth that hid him entirely from view. "I can feel the
crown of the child's head. There is very little time."
Pop, pop, pop, sounded in the room. And suddenly the three seers of the Seer's
Council were there. Gwyddion Llyr's veils were waving wildly, taking up most of
the room around him, as he hastily moved away from the bed even before the
growling grew to deafening levels. He turned unerringly towards the king.
"Well, let's hurry shall we?" The Seer instructed, briskly. "I came as soon as
I was able after I felt the labor begin. I am feeling the need to push. So,
quickly now, to your places. Oh, oh. Where is the lovely bride?" He looked
around, fully veiled, but missing nothing. His attention riveted on the woman
at Tambyn's side. "Noooooo. I am thinking, not you." Tambyn stiffened, prepared
to be insulted on the woman's behalf.
Harry blinked at Gwyddion. That first bit, didn't make much sense. How could
the Seer have known? Then his eyes fixed on the man behind the Seer, and his
eyes narrowed to slits. Barethes, who's concentration was fixed on Lucius, gaze
adoring, hungry. Harry's non-human ears flattened to his skull, his nostrils
flared. He took a step forward. Barethes sidled a bit nearer to Lucius. Harry
inched closer. Almost....then an arm looped itself around his shoulders. He
shuddered in disappointment, sagging in Graeme's grasp.
"Naughty, kitten. Very naughty. Can't have you attacking seers and kings right
and left, now, can we? Let's get the wedding done first, hmmm?" Graeme
whispered silkily. He licked Harry's ear. Harry shivered, distracted. Lucius'
hiss startled him. Graeme returned his king's glare with an innocent face,
completely unperturbed. Harry squirmed, testing the third's vigilance. Graeme
scolded him with a low rumble, Harry mewled in reply, face settling into a
thwarted frown.
Tanith was the last to arrive with her assistant in tow. She moved rapidly to
stand next to Lucius. She was resplendent in her bright golden robes.
"It is not every day that I get married." She said cheerily. "Nor every day
that I can celebrate the pride's heir being born. That is worth dressing up
for."
"Very good." The Seer said. He raised his arms. "Come now. Line up. Time to
hurry. Those tiny shoulders are just about out. we'll have to be super-quick!"
"Oooooooo." Came from Draco on the bed. The Seer nodded, sagely. "Big shoulders
for a little squirt." He waved his arms again.
"Hurry, hurry." Gwyddion Llyr said. "The baby is blond. And he has the cutest
little nose!"
Harry spun his head to look, unable to stop himself, but of course Draco was
mostly covered, and what wasn't covered was hidden by the wall of were-leopard
flesh surrounding him. Snape was a crouching lump under the cloth.
"I won't ask how you know that." His voice came dryly. "But you are correct."
"So. Lucius Malfoy, king of the pride of the were-leopards, do you accept this
woman to be your wife and queen?" Gwyddion Llyr asked, with an air of supreme
satisfaction.
"I accept her as my Queen." Lucius said. Changing the reply as his Chosen had
negotiated. Tambyn made a noise as if to protest, one that stopped when they
all turned to glare him into silence. Harry let one long claw slide into
evidence, even as Graeme's arms tightened around him. Tambyn looked at it. One
claw, a single glisteningly sharp threat, on the tip of the finger of a boy who
was less than half his own weight. He sneered his contempt, then he recalled
the fact that this was the same young man who had apparated a whole Arena full
of people out of the Manor, with a single snap. And no wand. He swallowed his
objection unvoiced.
"Your queen only? Fair enough, that is with in the laws." Llyr turned
fractionally to face Tanith. "Tanith, seer of the pride of the were-leopards,
do you accept this man as your husband and your King?"
"I accept him as my wedded King." Tanith agreed. Wincing as Draco let out
another shout and a string of very colorful curses.
"Excellent grasp of the appropriate vocabulary for a time like this, Draco."
Snape said. "However, it might be wise to save your breath for another push."
Draco cursed again, more crisply. Mantheer's face, the only one Harry could see
well enough to see any expression, was wide-eyed. And Gwyddion raised his voice
to be heard above the string of admirably explicit, blue-words.
"In perfect agreement, then! Do you, Tanith, Queen of the were-leopards also
accept Draco, the son of the king as your son?" Llyr asked her. For that was
the most important point at this juncture. The adoption of Draco and the heir's
renewed status.
"I accept Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, as my son. And any child of his
as my line."
The child in question gave a lusty scream, drowning out her words, echoed
weakly by the exhausted Mother of the heir.
Amrys was now under the cloth with Severus and Draco's nether regions. His purr
came loud and clear, filling the room with a sound of sheer, joyous
contentment.
"When can we see him?" Harry asked, innocently, carried away with excitement.
The air was immediatly filled with a cacophony of growls. He reared back away
from the furious faces of the two huge guardians crouched on the furs of
Draco's bed.
"About a week, perhaps two, any sooner and you are likely to lose a limb. Wait
until they bring him out into the rest of the Manor." Lucius whispered into his
ear. "Now, I think it is best for us to leave the proud parents and the
professor alone with the new addition. Come." They all filed out. Harry craned
his neck back at the full bed. Yaji showed him a clawed hand.
"So, why are Mantheer and Yaji behaving like they are the parents?" Harry
wondered, slightly affronted by the display, as Graeme dragged him out of the
room. He just wanted one tiny, itty-bitty look at the kid! He pouted.
***** Chapter 81 *****
Chapter 81
 
"I am not doing this again." Draco groaned as Snape tended to his very sore
bottom. "Never, ever, never, uh-uh, don't even bother to ask. There is no way."
"No one said you would have to." The Professor responded, wielding his wand. A
flick, a wave, another flick. Then he frowned. Something was keeping him from
changing Draco back to completely male. Severus could only think of one thing
that might do that.....
"Draco." Severus Snape said, his voice without inflection. His pale shoulders
were hunched. "Try another push will you?" He spread one hand over Draco's
tummy, pressing lightly.
"What? Why? No! Don't. Are you crazy? That hurts!" Draco spat out, as Severus
Snape inserted careful fingers inside him, Draco lifting himself just enough to
see the other man. "Shit! Ow, ow, ow, ow. No, no. Stop it. What are you doing?"
Yaji was instantly there, growling menacing. Snape scowled at him, a scowl that
despite the lack of bristling fangs, was every bit as effective. They wasted a
few moments glaring at each other, silently dueling before Snape turned his
attention back to where it was more urgently needed. He snapped over his bare
shoulder.
"Out of the way. There is another baby yet to come. I'm sorry, Draco, it isn't
over yet. " When the big were-animal continued to tower over him, crowding him,
Snape planted a shod foot a-top the were-leopard's bare one. Yaji yelped and
drew back his bruised limb. "I need room here. Go find me more blankets,
towels. And go tell the king." Severus ordered then bent back to his task.
"Gods. Oh, Gods. No. Not again." Draco begged, bracing his feet on the slippery
furs and cursing, trying to find purchase to push against. "This is so not
fair. You should have to do half of the work at least. If there is a second
child why aren't you giving birth to him? Huh? Amrys!"
The second was standing, frozen, next to the bed where the laboring youth lay,
holding the first newborn which Severus had thrust into his arms. He was
trembling. Mantheer inched in close behind him, gently relieving him of the
baby and cradling it safely in his own arms. He had a look of supreme
satisfaction on his adoring face as he looked at the fussy bundle in his arms.
Amrys shot him a look of pure panic. Mantheer nudged him forward, a dopey grin
on his own face as he looked at Draco's exquisite child.
Yaji had gotten up on the furs and now lifted Draco up in his arms to lay
propped on his body. He surrounded the young man, like a cradle, letting Draco
push back against him for leverage. He rested against a huge stack of cushions,
his hands stroking the body of his love with long motions, top to bottom. He
held the youth tightly with each contraction, straining in counterpoint.
Snape looked at him shrewdly, wondering if it was were-leopard instinct or if
Yaji had attended other births. There were definite midwifery skills or at
least instincts showing. The big leopard was calming Draco while not stopping
the pushing. It was exactly what Draco needed.
Draco let his head fall back, sweat streaming off of him. He panted, trying to
get his wind back. Amrys tentatively crawled up near him, wedging himself next
to Yaji. The youth let his head turn to look at the shocked silent man as the
current contraction eased. He raised his hand and touched Amrys' worried face.
"I'm not really angry. It just hurts." Draco croaked, then stiffened as his
body squeezed down again, try to expel the second baby. Amrys petted Draco's
damp hair, stroked his diminished but not yet empty belly. "Why does it have to
hurt?"
"You are the most blessed." Amrys whispered. "You bring us not one new life,
but two. I honor you for that." He kissed the Mother of his sons. Draco let
him. Amrys revered the Mother. He had grown up knowing the man was dedicated to
the Mother and to protecting her, showing her reverence, even the despicable
Andromeda.
There was a brisk shuffle at the doorway, Gwyddion Llyr and Lucius Malfoy
entered, alone. Snape looking up at Draco, completely absorbed in his task, did
not bother to cover the over-heated boy this time. Instead, he fixed his
quelling gaze on the Seer.
"Might I inquire why you said nothing about this?" He asked, his irritation
plain, his hands busy.
"The second child? Well, why should I? The Mother needed to give birth to one,
why not two while he is at it? What is one more? A few more little pushes and
there are two for the work of one." Llyr shrugged. He seemed genuinely
unconcerned. "Besides what a nice surprise, don't you agree?" Snape glowered,
and Draco at the moment resting, glared in outrage.
"It would have been nice to know." Severus gritted out. Draco was stopped from
offering his point of view by one more hard contraction. He moaned. Snape at
last saw the head of the second child. Also blond.
 
This time, when Severus swished and flicked, Draco did turn back to a young man
without any extra parts. He let out a sigh of relief. He was not totally
familiar with were-leopard physiology and he was relieved that there were not
more infants yet to come. No litter. For a moment he had feared there would be
more. That would have been far too exhausting. And if he were tired, Draco must
be done in. Two were more than enough.
"Better?" Snape asked. He hoped the aching would be less with the birth over
and conversion back to the young man's previous body form.
"Hey!" Draco sat up and squirmed cautiously. "That's miraculous. Why didn't you
do something like that when I was in labor and giving birth!" He accused the
other man. "It didn't *have* to hurt did it?"
Snape frowned. "It really wasn't possible." He replied, firmly. "It is part of
giving birth."
"Shhhh." Amrys said, whispering. He cradled the small form of his second son in
his arms, face glowing. He babbled on, amazed. "He is perfect. Beautiful."
Mantheer joined them all on the furs with the first child. Lucius stepped
forward to see the tiny children and to acknowledge them as the heirs to the
pride.
"Such perfect little kings." Gwyddion Llyr said, bending over them as they were
held carefully for the current pride king to see.
"Kings?" Snape asked, curiosity winning.
"Oh, yes. Kings. Twins are never kept apart in the lycanthrope world. They are
born together and are meant to remain together." The Seer informed him. Snape
thought about that. He had noted that Fred and George were usually together.
But not always, always.
"Little things, little things." The Seer said as Snape opened his mouth to ask,
flapping his hands in the air. "They are together, when it counts."
They look virtually identical, Snape thought. Not fraternal twins then. No.
These were Fred and George Weasley type twins. He allowed himself a small
shudder and a prayer to Merlin these two would be less mischievous than the two
red-headed rapscallions. The pride certainly didn't need the likes of Fred and
George ruling it one day.
"Oh, my God." Draco said looking down into the tiny faces, one baby cradled in
each arm, Mantheer's hand supporting one, and Yaji's the other. He stared into
the deep amber eyes, at the lovely rosebud mouths. He lowered his head, kissed
one on the forehead then the other, almost afraid to touch the delicate flesh.
"Oh, Merlin, Amrys. They are beautiful. Oh! I want another, more, a dozen, a
hundred, just like them." His eyes were shining.
Amrys paled. The brave, powerful second of the pride eased himself behind
Mantheer, hiding from the Mother. Mantheer scowled at him. Amrys shrugged.
"He is all yours." Amrys whispered.
***** Chapter 82 *****
Chapter 82
 
Lucius swam across the bathing pool towards the two red haired were-leopards
when they entered the room and waited near the edge of the steaming water. The
waves eddied around him, flowing over his wide, muscular back, curling over the
mounds of his buttocks, highlighting his gleaming, alabaster skin. His hair
trailed behind him like a silken cape, shining silver, highlighted with gold.
He pulled himself up out of the water, liquid streaming down his skin, pooling
on the stone floor.
Bill and Charlie waited for him to sit and make himself comfortable. Bill put a
steadying hand on his brother's back. They were here for both business and
hopefully for pleasure, of a sort. If the king did not beat them to a bloody
pulp for their temerity first. For their unbelievable cheek.
Bill sighed. He had not seen it coming. But, he was man enough to know he had
no one to blame but himself, no matter that Charlie had made the first
overture. And if Lucius chose to smack him down, he'd take his lumps, Gods knew
he deserved it. He shook his head. He'd never seen it coming, never suspected
it. It had taken him completely by surprise. And he, *they'd*, compounded the
error by not asking permission first. Or coming to the king when they first
became aware of their feelings.
Lucius settled himself down next to Harry, sitting cross-legged. He ran a hand
down over the drowsing youngster's pelt. Harry was out of the pool, on the
flagstones, exhausted by the day's events, stretched out full length in animal
form. He was snoring softly, relaxed, his tongue lolling out. His thick, black
fur was half dry, beginning to fluff out at the ruff and along his flanks. His
breath moved in and out slowly. He was deliciously limp. Lucius worked his
fingers into the lush fur, massaging and rubbing the lax form of his love. That
got a thump or two from Harry's long tail. And a snortle from the sleepy cat.
Charlie couldn't hold back a grin watching the young-ling sleeping so deeply,
even Bill smiled at the sight. They kept their voices low as they greeted their
king, going down to their knees, rubbing their faces on the hand he held out.
The greeting done, they both took a deep breath and plunged on. Best to get it
over with. Bill started with the necessary business.
"The wards are re-set, they will protect the pride from those you do not
authorize to cross." Bill Weasley told Lucius, as he smoothed out the scroll
diagramming the new wards. "It will not be a simple thing to enter the Manor
any longer. Any member of the pride with questionable intent will have to be
cleared by yourself or the second or the third. Any person you choose to keep
out will not have any way to enter the grounds."
"You have done well." Lucius praised his leopard. The plans were exact, well
drawn, easy to follow, even for one who was not an expert at that kind of work.
Bill's talent was evident in the lack of confusion, the clear, direct lines he
had scribed. Lucius looked up into his leopard's wary face, wondering at the
nervousness there. He decided to wait. He would learn of the problem soon
enough. He could sense the guilt, the anxiety pouring off the two brothers.
They would spill it soon. They could not hold it in much longer.
"I've set up time to go over the methods with Graeme and Amrys. Then I think it
time that we left. I can't speak for Charlie, but my assistant is not capable
of running the business entirely alone. I can't ask it of him in all fairness.
He has owled repeatedly with many questions. He needs guidance." Bill bit his
lip, nervously. Here it comes, whatever it is, Lucius thought. He waited
patiently, petting Harry. The kitten rolled over onto his back, baring his
underbelly for attention. Lucius obliged most willingly.
"We would like to take Troy with us when we leave." Bill blurted out. His face
was crimson, his hands clutched in the fabric of his loose pants. He couldn't
manage to look up at his king's eyes. Lucius felt a wave of anger build. He
could have sworn Bill Weasley had just asked him to.... Impossible. He must
have heard the man wrong. NO one would dare touch his Marked without
permission.
"What did you say?" Lucius asked, his voice deceptively gentle, soft. His hand
continued its reverent stroking, running up and down the fur of his Chosen who
suddenly lifted his head, staring at the red haired were-man who was beginning
to shake. The emerald eyes were wide. Bill steeled himself. But it was Charlie
who spoke. Harry rolled back onto his side.
"Please, my king. We meant you no disrespect. We didn't expect end up in this
situation. We only spoke to him in politeness, then discovered our feelings for
him, out of the blue. We did not plan it." Charlie said. "I feel more for him
than I have for any other. It is as if he is part of my soul." He looked over
at Bill.
"Our soul, my king." Bill amended. "I feel whole when he is with me." Lucius'
growl interrupted the speech. Bill threw himself down on his face, abasing
himself. Charlie was not fast enough. Lucius smacked him with a punishing paw,
causing the younger man to end up sprawled across the flagstones and his
brother's back. Lucius drew back his paw, just as Harry flopped himself into
the king's lap, inhibiting the motion. Lucius glared at him but did not throw
him off. Harry purred, rubbing his face along Lucius' bared abdomen, giving the
damp skin a tiny lick.
"Have you approached him?" Lucius managed finally. His tone a warning. "Have
you had sexual relations with *my* Marked?"
"No, my king, we would not, never without your leave." Bill offered, face still
pressed into the floor. His voice shook. He had offered unintentional inslut to
his king, a man who he revered. He was upset with his own actions, he only
hoped he would be forgiven.
Charlie had dragged himself to his own belly, head spinning waiting for it to
clear before he spoke. "No, my king, we have only spoken to him. We have not
taken advantage. Please, forgive us."
"Very well." Lucius relaxed a bit. The morphed paw that he had been using to
expend discipline fading back to a human hand. Digging into the incredible fur
of the cat stretched, bonelessly, temptingly, over his lap. "Tell me why you
seek to remove my Marked from the Manor. From me."
Bill jumped into the opening. He lifted his head tentatively. Lucius responded
with a growl. Hastily, Bill put his forehead back to the ground.
"He is gifted, I think, with the talent to care for the dragons. He should have
the chance to try. He has also shown remarkable understanding of curse-
breaking. He understood the wards at once. It would be a great waste not to
train him." Bill hurriedly explained. Lucius grunted, that was not the main
reason, he was sure. Still, it was a good one. As king, he should not ignore
what benefitted the boy and the pride.
"And will you take the responsibility to care for him as he needs, to complete
his pride teaching? Will you see that he is not lonely for his fellow young-
lings? Will you soothe him and show him the love he deserves? So that he will
be content and happy even away from his fellow kittens?" Lucius growled. There
was only one right answer to these questions.
"Yes, my king." Bill and Charlie both answered, breathlessly. By Merlin, was it
possible? Would they be allowed to take the youth? To train and care for him?
"Kittens do not do well if they are alone. They need constant attention and
affection." Lucius dug his fingers into Harry's hair, smoothing finger tips
over the ecstatically twitching scalp, causing Harry to arch further into the
touch. Harry moaned with pleasure. He was slowly converting back to human, one
lazy body part at a time.
"Yes, my king." Bill and Charlie answered the larger man. Who was looking down
with an expression of pure love and considerable lust at the young-ling he was
stroking. Harry was eating it up. Now half leopard, half human. His whiskers
bristling with enjoyment. He writhed in his lover's hold. Pushing Lucius flat
onto his back. The king laughed, hugging the youth to his chest. Harry rewarded
him with a series of mewls, a dozen licks over his neck and his face. Lucius
laughed again, the tension fading completely from the room.
"Don't' think I don't know what you are doing, my kitten." Lucius said to
Harry. "You are more than happy to be rid of Troy. But, you must remember he is
of the pride and you, as the Chosen must be concerned for his well-being."
Lucius tried to scold the young-ling but it was hard to do while grinning at
him. Harry rowled adoringly. Lucius had to laugh again. Harry changed further
toward human.
"Very well. You may take him." Lucius told the Weasley brothers. "But, I hold
you responsible for his happiness and his teaching. You will keep me apprised
of his progress. And you will report to me through Harry. Harry. It will be
your task to see that Troy is doing well, that he is cared for and not unhappy.
That he is getting all that he needs to grow and to be fulfilled. Do you
agree?"
Harry nodded vigorously. He gave a yipping mewl. Frowned in concentration but
was unable to use human words yet. He nodded again to be sure Lucius knew he
understood the seriousness of the charge he was being given. He would tell the
king if anything was amiss. He would look out for Troy's best interests. He
would not let his jealousy over the position the boy had had with Lucius cloud
his judgment. Harry's emerald eyes tried to convey his determination, his
recognition of the seriousness of the responsibility.
At last Lucius was satisfied and he looked over at Bill and Charlie. He petted
Harry's flank as he spoke. "Then, I put my Marked in your care. You will see he
is taught and that he is pleased. You will see all his needs addressed. He will
share your beds and find pleasure there, or you will return him to me." He
waved his hand at them. "Go." They scrambled to obey, backing out of the room
on hands and knees. They made no effort to hide the huge grins on their faces.
Lucius snorted.
Harry wrapped his arms around the king's neck, pulling himself astraddle the
larger man's body, wrapping his legs in turn around the strong, narrow waist.
He purred ecstatically.
"Yes." Lucius said to his Chosen. "You are terribly pleased aren't you, my
love?" He bent his head to kiss Harry, palms cupping the beloved face.
***** Chapter 83 *****
Chapter 83
 
Lucius rose up out of the steam like an ancient God. His body shone pale in the
dimness of the two fires that were the only lighting in the largest of the
pride's bathing rooms. Red-gold high-lights danced over his ivory skin as he
slowly walked up into the shallows. The room was filled with the members of the
pride who were in residence at the Manor. They stood in silent and solemn vigil
as they witnessed the ceremony of the king passing along the care of one of his
own to another.
Lucius looked neither right nor left as he advanced. His eyes were only for the
slim young kitten he had taken as his own far too short a time ago. The one he
had chosen to Mark and keep to himself, to cherish the gift of his body.
Troy also looked only into the light grey eyes of his king, tears welling in
his eyes as he stood quietly, trying not to sob his anguish. He wanted to fling
himself into the arms that had held him so tenderly, comforted him, pleasured
him beyond his wildest imagination. He could not believe that it was his king's
wish that he go with these other members of the pride, that he now would belong
to them, not to his shining king alone.
Troy was waiting for his king, chin high, mouth trembling. His dark hair hung
long and unfettered, a wondrous flow of ebony silk, his body nude. His eyes
were locked onto the form of his king as the large man approached him. His face
was worshiping, tragic, uncertain. The tears that had filled his eyes finally
overflowed. He drew in a long, shuddering breath, squeezing his hands into
fists as he waited. Lucius sluiced the water from his arms and met the youth in
the shallows.
Lucius took Troy in his arms, holding him, bringing him up close to his own
body, until he could feel the frantic beat of the young man's heart pressed to
his own, hear the muffled sobs the kitten was fighting to keep back. He
enclosed the crying youth, pressing consoling kisses to the sweet curve of the
flawless cheek. He offered what comfort and reassurance that he was able and
didn't loosen his hold. Finally, Troy's arms crept around the man's shoulders,
grasping tight, holding on. Lucius kissed him again, a soft touch of lip to
lip. Lasting, staying not wanting it to be over. Pulling back reluctantly, eyes
meeting again, gazes meshed.
Gently, he led the young man into the depths of the water, carrying him down
below the surface, going down beneath with him, then lifting him above it,
supporting him on top of the water as he washed the youth with his own hands.
The hands of the king, carefully washing his Mark from the body of the one who
had been his own. The washing was thorough, patient, serving to reassure the
Marked as well as to clean off the last scent remaining on his skin.
He lingered over his task, knowing it would be a long time before he saw the
boy after this day. He cleaned him from toes to hip, from hip to shoulder,
arms, throat and lastly, with the most reverent of touches, cleaned his face
and glorious hair. Fingertips finding the sweet softness of his lips. No part
of him untouched, no part unremembered. Troy sobbed, feeling the finality of it
all. He turned in the king's embrace and hid his face in the curve of the man's
neck. Lucius finished his task then carried Troy up out of the pool to the edge
where the two men waited. The Weasleys. Who would now be charged with the love
and care of this precious kitten from their pride. The king's favored.
Bill and Charlie Weasley watched the ritual unfold. They watched, breath caught
in their throats, as the young man they had asked for and been granted, was
carried bare from the steaming water. He was long limbed yet delicately built,
fragile appearing even though he was much stronger than any human of like size.
Lucius brought him right to them. They knelt down as he neared. The kitten's
face was tragic as he struggled to be brave, struggled to obey his king's
decree and accept the men who he was being entrusted to. He tried and just
managed to lift his head from the king's shoulder to look at the kneeling men.
Lucius set him down next to them, keeping Troy's hand in his own.
Lucius held the hand of the boy who had been his to pleasure. He ran his other
hand up the smooth neck cupping the lovely face, his body bending down to offer
one last public kiss to the young-ling. Their lips held, tasting, wanting,
deeply sad, the taste of Troy's salty, mourning tears flavoring it with
melancholy.
Lucius reached out and took the hands of the kneeling brothers, one at a time,
joining them to Troy's hands. Then he turned to face the door to the bathing
room and waited. Silently Bill and Charlie backed out of the room, leading Troy
away from the king. Lucius would say a private farewell to the youth later, but
for now the ritual was complete. He was no longer the king's Marked. He watched
every step the youth took as he left. Then he was out of the room and gone.
A ripple of sound moved through the gathered pride, they came forward in a
gentle wave to embrace their king, to touch him, stroke loving hands down his
sides in recognition of his loss. They offered him soothing caresses, murmured
their love and support, offering him comfort. They swarmed over him, careful
not to crush him standing patiently in turn for their chance to give him aid.
He stood tall and strong at first, then he bent into their hands, into the hard
and soft hands of the men and women who touched him.
Kisses were dropped onto his skin, one after the other, offerings of
tenderness, of recognition, even promises of lust slaked. They ran fingers
through his hair, over his chest, the rest of his proud body, lingering over
him, finally bearing him down to the furs pulled over to cushion him. They lay
next to him, embracing him, trading places, waiting for him to chose among them
to select who would offer him the deepest comfort of their bodies for the loss
of his Marked.
Harry stood and watched them go to his lover. Tears were gathered in his eyes
as it came to him the sorrow that Lucius was feeling. He had thought this would
be a moment of happiness, of relief, but instead he stood shocked by the level
of pain and mourning that filled the room. The king was hurting, the king was
loved, the king needed, yet the king had lost what he needed most at this
moment. There were only substitutes, each extended hand was not the hand of the
one who Lucius was aching for. Harry wept, huge tears flowing down his face.
Miserably he lowered himself to the ground and curled in on himself. He sobbed,
wishing he could somehow heal the pain that filled this room to overflowing.
Strong hands lifted him up, cradled him against a muscular, warm chest. Warm
lips kissed his swollen eyes, a deep voice offering him soothing sounds. A fall
of coppery hair surrounded him, shielding him as he was rocked in the
protective embrace.
"Harry." Graeme murmured into his wildly tangled hair, dropping kisses onto the
dark strands. "Don't cry, kitten. We will heal him. He needs our comfort. Do
you understand?"
Harry sobbed. His fingers wound in the glinting, satin curls of the were-
leopard holding him. He mourned the leaving of the boy he had never really
known.
***** Chapter 84 *****
Chapter 84
 
Severus Snape was blinking. He had something stuck in his eye. He swiped at it
with the back of his hand. That took care of the little problem. Then a minute
later it was back. He swiped again. Suppressing the sniffle that threatened,
much to his horror. No, no. That was a sniff, a reaction to all this over-
emotionality, definitely not a sniffle. Not from Professor Severus Snape, head
of Slytherin house.
Amrys turned towards him, not asking and put an arm around him, pulling him
close. The were-leopard was a few inches taller and Snape felt protected. Safe.
Cared for. He fought to keep his skin from crawling off his body in horror at
the thought. He liked the feelings! Liked them a lot. How odd that it was with
a pack of half-animals that he would discover such comfort existed. He had
never felt a time without defensiveness and vigilance when he was with humans
like himself. Humans could be worse than beasts when it came to uncivilized
behavior. They made an art of abusing each other.
"We should get back to the children." Amrys said and led the stiffened form of
his paramour out of the crowded bathing room. Severus was struggling to keep
his composure, Amrys pretended not to notice, giving him time to regain his
control. Snape stopped in his tracks.
"We should bring Potter with us. He wished to see the children." The tall, dark
haired professor said. He turned to re-enter the room. Amrys stopped him, arm
across his chest.
"Just now I think Lucius needs him more. Graeme will take care of him. Of both
of them. We will see them later. Right now, you are thinking too hard. You need
a diversion. Remember, I am here, you are here, and neither of us is leaving."
Amrys said, offering the proximity of his body to comfort his human lover. He
was pleased to note that Snape gave in, unconsciously leaning into the contact.
Behaving uncharacteristically but fittingly in Amrys' view, submitting with his
body, holding nothing back. A thing he would not easily do, Amrys knew. Not for
any other. His lover was a proud man.
Discovering the way Severus reacted to him had been a great boon. Amrys didn't
submit, not to any but his king, he had no desire to. To Lucius alone did he
willingly bend his knee. At first the professor from Hogwarts, with his strong
personality, had seemed to be out of reach. Also a man who would not bend or
submit. Confident, unyielding, firm and in charge. But the attraction between
himself and the human just wouldn't fade. Amrys had taken the opportunity when
it presented itself to get closer. He had not been disappointed. Just the
thought of the slender, strong body underneath him was enough to arouse him to
fever pitch. He held the man closer.
"Yes. Well, I was merely thinking it was a convenient time." The Potions Master
offered with quiet dignity. Oh. That silky, wonderful, darkly sweet and velvet
voice. Amrys fought against the shiver. He wanted to....
"You are a soft hearted man, Severus. Don't change that." Amrys, the second of
the pride whispered, pressing the man up against the wall they were passing. A
few more quick, strategic steps and they were inside one of the many alcoves.
He ran a hand up under the crisp white shirt, feeling the smooth skin of the
slim man's stomach under his palm. Warm, smooth, the skin jumped at his caress,
Amrys felt awareness of the contact ripple through them both.
He took the man's mouth, hard and fast, their tongues clashing, holding
Severus' wrists tightly, up against the wall, then drawing them together, until
he held both in one hand, behind the man's back. He loved this. When he held
the dark haired man like this.... It took only an instant before Severus moaned
into his mouth. He swallowed the sound. The vibration, against his sensitized
mouth, driving him to further assert his dominance.
He bit the pale flesh of the man's throat, sucking it into his mouth, marking
him with teeth and suction, too aware of the rush of blood under his teeth,
wanting to feel some of that heat in his mouth, sliding down his throat. He
wanted to taste the blood that flowed in his lover's veins. Trembling he lifted
his head away, gulping down air, trying to gain a fraction of the distance he
needed, before he gave in to the involuntary bloodlust and did drink.
The Des of the pride distracted himself with long swipes of his tongue over and
around the ear of the man he held captive, nibbling, far enough away from the
singing flow of blood to gain some control. Ah, but this was good, burying his
nose in the black hair, sniffing the scent of herbs and light sweat and behind
it all the burgeoning scent of arousal, of pheromones burning bright, hot. The
promise of sex.
Amrys bore the smaller man down onto the fur stacked wide bench, pressing him
flat, pinning him with his body, shredding his clothing with a deliberate claw.
Severus felt the sides of his trousers split under the assault of the razor
sharp digits, heard the fabric almost sigh apart, felt the coolness of the air
against his heated skin. Amrys pulled the ruined bit of clothing off, tossing
it aside. Then he used fangs to rip off the shirt, until only tatters remained.
Severus, sensing what his lover wanted, even after their short association,
lifted his legs, letting his head fall back, his body arching, defenseless,
available to Amrys to satisfy every lust. Amrys growled as he moved in, sliding
over Severus' beautifully offered belly. He licked it, the flatness, the soft
skin, the few sleek dark hairs, tasting sweat, tasting desire. He bit the
flesh, pulled it into his mouth, sucking on it, while Snape wiggled, letting
out a hiss of near pain.
"I need you." Amrys said, when he lifted his head, eyes dark and burning.
"Yes. Anything." Snape hardly recognized his own voice, thick with passion. He
was achingly erect, the head of his penis pressed against the were-leopards
throat. Amrys smiled, dangerous, hungry, he rubbed his cheek along the length
of Snape's arousal, his eyes never leaving Severus' fevered ones. He rubbed
again, slower, letting his breath wash over the tip in a wave of heat. Snape
moaned, hitching his hips higher, his legs moving restlessly.
Amrys smiled, he licked his sensual lips, moist mouth tantalizing, tongue
flicking out, almost touching. Snape moaned, urgent, quivering, eager. Amrys
carefully ran gentle teeth over the shaft, his lips sealing over the site of
his near-bite, licking, sucking, moving up and down the hard column. Severus
saw sparkles as the other man swallowed. Down to the base and up again, pulling
off to lick, kiss the marble-smooth shaft. Severus whined in the back of his
throat, blood thundering through his ears.
The were-leopard's tongue dipped into the crease between cock and thigh,
through silken hair, licking, working down, over to the sac, cradling their
delicate burden. He opened his mouth, bristling with half-human fangs, oh so
carefully took the orbs inside. Snape could not hold his head up any longer. He
dropped his head back, freeing his hands, holding his thighs, opening himself
wider to Amrys' attentions with one, the other sinking into the dark blond
locks, fisting the strands, filling his hand with the silken tresses.
Spit slicked over his balls. They were rolled in the heated cavern, laved,
until he was shuddering, whimpering, his erection pulsing above his lover's
curly blond head, throbbing, threatening to attain release from this one act,
without a touch on its desperate length. He fought it, the orgasm building over
him, the skin tingling rush of sensation, Amrys sensing it pulled away, letting
the slickened orbs fall.
But instead of moving up, Amrys moved down. Severus burned. The sweet soft,
persistent touch of wet tongue on his most intimate place. He started to shake.
He drew in a sharp breath, freezing in disbelief, waiting to see.... Yes. Amrys
licked him, there. His tongue knowing no limit, no shame. slipping inside,
before Snape could decide if it was horrible, or...oh definitely, oh,
w..o..n..d..e..r..f..u..l. So wet, so slippery, slickery wet, hot silk, easing
in deep, turning, inside of him, so mobile. Gods. Severus groaned. His hips
were melting, beyond orgasm, the relaxation colliding with his passionate fire,
finding no release. It built and built, the tongue dancing, soothing, moving,
slow, teasing promise of a mind-shattering moment just a second away.
He'd never in all his adventurous life, in his broad experience, had anyone do
this to him. It melted his very marrow. Amrys, hot breath, muscular, strong,
sopping tongue, running in and out of him, a mini-cock, fucking him with it,
seeking out each of all the thousand nerve endings, caressing each with salty
saliva, nipping the portal's edges, sucking, until it was madness gripping
Severus, until he had no choice, his body shaking, his breath a hoarse rasping
gurgle. Just on the brink, then the tongue pulled away, back, Severus was left
wordless, begging with his panting moans, his shaking body, shattered, waiting
for....
The long fingers slipped into him, filling him, stretching him, holding him on
the brink of ecstasy, moving into him, dilating slow, thumb caressing over his
tight drawn scrotum, pressing the sensitive, tight orbs, he let out a choked
scream. The long, thick fingers curled, wiggled, sought out, pressed, right
over his prostate, sending sparks out, shooting through him, burning, his
scream part of the orgasm that defeated him, burned him, seized him, lifted and
left him limp, his erection bobbing wildly with a life of its own as he gave
himself completely over to the release. He trembled, fluid gushing, no strength
left in him, his legs useless, sliding down Amrys' sides, spread, shaking, one
heel hooked over his lover's glorious, radiant brown-gold hip.
Then he felt Amrys slide into him, his erection smooth and hard, big, reviving
the ripples of orgasm that were still fluttering weakly, had been fading away.
Severus swallowed the dryness in his throat, managing to moan, joyously. His
head was spinning, his body lax, relaxed, sated, but for the demanding shaft
that pierced him. Entered him with slow authority and ownership that was beyond
denial. He was his, utterly and completely, no longer his own man, but part of
the man who was moving inside of him, who's shaft rode into his depths,
belonged there. Had to be there, could not be any where but inside of him. The
first stroke was deep, hitting the sparkling place inside, the second deeper,
the third throwing his head back and he was keening, shivering, cumming again
without ever having finished, rested or recovered from the first orgasm.
Different, this one, harder, broader, a deep, deep well of emotion, thrilling
through him, filling him until it overflowed, without any effort or seeking, a
passionate gift from the body that filled him, rode him, pleasured and owned
his very soul. They lay limp together, breath matched, hearts echoing in
synchrony, dripping sweat, entwined, utterly spent.
A step sounded outside the alcove. Amrys raised his head and looked at the man
standing there. Older, grandfatherly, garrishly bright robe enough to burn the
corneas. Just the one who was not wanted here and now. He bared his fangs,
halfheartedly, sensing no danger, no threat, just a nasty amusement from the
grey haired figure.
"Well, Severus," Dumbledore said, folding his hands over his abdomen,
contentedly. "It is easy to see what has been distracting you."
Severus Snape reacted as if he'd been touched with a cattle prod. Jerking
upright to half-sitting, naked except where Amrys lay over his body, between
his legs, still buried inside of him. A red flush flamed over his face.
"Have I come at a bad time?" Dumbledore asked, his smile sweetly vicious, eyes
twinkling with innocence. He was not foolish enough, even in his amusement, to
come in too close to the beast that had been rutting with his Potion's Master.
Amrys tried to growl, but despite his best efforts, he had to settle for a
mild, sighing, "grrrrrrrrrrrr?" That quickly faded into a purr of satiation. As
long as the Headmaster kept his distance, Amrys was prepared to let him stand
and wait. And wait. And wait......
***** Chapter 85 *****
Chapter 85
 
Dumbledore settled himself into a comfortable reading chair as the kitten
carried in a pot of steaming tea. He did not recognize the young male, the
young man was not a student of Hogwarts, though he was certainly old enough.
Must be a pure lycanthrope, no wizarding blood at all. The headmaster only just
managed not to sniff his disdain. The willowy youth set the pot near to the
Headmaster, avoiding getting nearer than he had to and left to fetch cream and
honey. Dumbledore watched him go, eyes lighting on the firm, well rounded
buttocks. Well, perhaps the little beast was not a total loss.
The honey pot was set near to his cup, a small pitcher of chilled fresh cream
next to that. A plate piled high with tea biscuits was already at hand.
Dumbledore sighed happily, already feeling the saliva filling his mouth. He
loved sweet things, his eyes darted back to the rapidly retreating bottom and
the boy attached to it. All sorts of sweet things. Succulent things.
A discreet cough drew his attention back to the two other men in the room. The
headmaster blinked, forcing himself to forget the boy and concentrate on the
critical negotiations he was determined to force to his advantage.
The blond lycanthrope's eyes were half-lidded, glittering, disapproving.
Dumbledore held back a snort, as if the man didn't enjoy the fruits of this
exotic, bestial culture himself! They had no sexual mores, no modesty
whatsoever. He'd caught the man rutting with Severus in public, by Merlin, and
there were stories aplenty of wild orgies... Now the were-creature was acting
as if Dumbledore should not have been looking at the boy like that. As if he, a
full blooded wizard of impeccable family, should not have the right to even
look at the little naughty minx....
Amrys leaned back in his own chair. His hackles were fighting to stand on end.
There was something very wrong about the man who was daintily sipping his tea
in the chair across from him, waiting to state his business. Amrys wanted to
throw him out. Or at the very least, to rub his face into the floorboards,
wiping that smirk from his mouth. The way he had looked at Stephan....Amrys
growled low in his throat. Amrys hadn't liked the look at all. Dumbledore
pretended not to hear.
Severus Snape was dressed, covered completely, his ablutions seen to, his
collar buttoned all the way up his throat. His face was stonily correct. He
made no mention of the state he and Amrys had been found in, not even when the
older wizard had tried to joke with him. Severus knew there was not a genuine
attempt to draw the two of them closer, rather, Dumbledore wanted him to be on
the defensive. Wanted to sneer at him. Put him at a disadvantage. Snape had not
worked with the old buzzard as long as he had without learning the headmaster's
favorite tricks.
"How may I help you?" Amrys asked, his manner calm, unruffled. He had not
seemed the least disturbed by being caught naked, in flagrante. He had taken
his time dressing, not bothering to wash his lover's seed from his skin. He
liked the smell. He liked Severus. He liked sex. He liked being one of the
pride's rulers. And this was his home. He had every right to make love to his
cherished man. If others insisted on violating his privacy, showing no decorum,
then they would get an eyeful, he would make no apologies for that. Nor would
he allow them to succeed in making him uncomfortable.
"I am here to meet with Lucius. We had arranged a meeting to discuss the return
of the pride's students to Hogwarts." Dumbledore, paused to sip at the very
sweet tea. A terrible shame he could not think of a reason to call the
delectable boy back for another little peek and pinch. "I also am concerned
over the amount of time Hogwarts' potions professor is spending away from his
classes and his house. He is Head of Slytherin House. He should be attending to
*some* of his duties." The old man stirred a liberal measure of honey into his
refreshed cup. The spoon clinked as he set it down, lifted the cup and saucer
to his lips. The man he had directed his comments to didn't flinch, damn him.
Dumbledore's fingers itched for a chocolate, or a lemon drop.
"I am listening." Amrys said, with perfect manners. Dumbledore sipped, his
brows raising. The tea was wonderful, not a thing to ridicule there, the honey
wondrously rich, the cream perfectly fresh. Damn. Even the crispy biscuits were
sublime.
"I had thought to meet with the king, with Lucius. Continue our preliminary
discussions." Dumbledore stated, silkily, offering his grandfatherly smile.
Amrys shook his head, not pretending any regret.
"He is not able to entertain you at this time. He is conducting pride business.
If you wish, you may return at a later date, whenever he is able to see you.
Or....you may speak with me, now." Amrys let his leg brush against the long,
black clad one of the human professor. Snape tensed at the unexpected intimacy
in front of his supervisor but didn't pull away. Jumpy, Amrys thought. And what
wonder, with this slimy headmaster smirking and simpering at him knowingly.
Dumbledore appeared to think for a moment then reluctantly he nodded his
defeat. "The school grounds are now safe for the return of all the students,
including the lycanthropes. It is raising questions, their continued absence,
especially in light of the rumors of just who was attacking and killing the
children."
Dumbledore frowned at Amrys, as if he saw something dishonest in the pride's
second, as if he expected Amrys to fail at this task, fail to understand what
the situation required. Amrys quirked a corner of his mouth, untroubled by the
attempt to make his feel some guilt for the situation. He was familiar with
that trick, kings liked to use it, courtiers and lords. Amrys had grown up not
responding to the subtle pressures. Not allowing himself or his feelings to be
manipulated by others who wanted to command and use him.
"One of your own professors was killing the students. Not one of us." Amrys
offered mildly, reminding the wizard of the true circumstances, not the rumored
ones. "Surely you have informed the parents that we are not to blame? And just
who was."
Dumbledore cleared his throat, taking another sip of tea. He did not meet the
second's eyes. He selected another buscuit, swirled it in the tea. Nibbled.
"Ah. So that is how it is." Amrys nodded. "You have not told any that we are
not at fault. You have let them believe we are." He could picture the man
nodding in sage sympathy, letting the falsehoods go unchallenged.
"Well. No purpose would be served by letting it out that the culprit was one of
the school's teachers." Dumbledore insisted, raising his chin defiantly. "The
damage to Hogwarts would not be minor. The school would be ruined."
"Yet, it is acceptable to leave them with the impression a lycanthrope is
responsible?" Amrys was astonished by the deliberate duplicity. His hair once
again tried to stand on end, he felt his fangs extending. "Then why would you
even consider having our vile kind back at your school? And how will you
protect them from harm once they are back?"
"There have been concerns raised...other parents are not sure the school is
safe... since none of the lycanthrope families have sent their own children
back. The retrun of the pride's children would be a first step at restoring
normal realtions." Dumbledore seemed to be considering his next words. Finally
he said, "Many have refused to return their children to the school until it is
proven safe by the return of the children of the were-families. They believe
there must be another attack imminent, or the lycanthropes would be back in
school. Surely you can see the lycanthropes have an obligation to return
immediately."
"This dilemma is one of your own making." Amrys said, dismissively. "If you
would announce who was responsible and that she is dead, then there would be no
such worry. Instead you allow rumor to convict us. We who are innocent of any
wrong doing in this matter. You have made your bed, now sleep in it."
"Surely you won't abandon the children in this fashion. Hogwarts has been their
second home." The old wizard adopted a conciliatory tone. "They need the
school, the learning, the training we provide. If your children would just
return, there would be no need for this to go on as it is. The fear would be
dispensed with. The rumors quashed."
"Not all the rumors. You would still allow the rumors that lycanthropes are
responsible to persist." Amrys pointed out. "And that is not acceptable."
"It is the least damaging scenario....the reputation of Hogwarts will be
protected. And we both know nothing will ever be proven against Lucius."
Dumbledore wheedled, his bright blue eyes hard, glittering.
"No. If you want our children to return, then you must announce the truth. I
will not send any back to Hogwarts and risk someone thinking they must take
revenge. Our children, our pride, our species, is innocent. It was a human
witch who was responsible. And another witch who aided her. No shape-changers
were culpable. You are wrong to let any believe we bear any blame for the
attacks or the deaths."
"Hogwarts' reputation will be damaged. Perhaps irreparably." Dumbledore whined.
"The school will suffer..."
"The truth is the truth. Lies are not the way to deal with this crisis,
wizard." Amrys insisted, lip curling.
"The Ministry of Magic is shocked and appalled that our screening procedures
failed to catch Professor Trelawny's instability... They wish us to be placed
on a three year probation. That, coupled with the release of such knowledge to
the public....Hogwarts would be destroyed. No self-respecting wizarding family
would send their children back to us." Dumbledore allowed himself to shudder.
He would have to step down, take responsibility, resign. Be publicly
humiliated.
"The Ministry is not my concern. We are a people apart. A sovereign nation on
our own. The Ministry can not compel us to do anything."
"But you need us. The teaching we give to all children, yours included."
Dumbledore insisted.
"Then announce that Trelawny is responsible. Then we will send our children
back." Amrys stood firm. The school was a help and it should not be put out of
business, but neither would the lycanthropes agree to be the scapegoat.
Unfairly blamed, vilified.
"Perhaps there is something more I can offer you. Or your...lover." Dumbledore
murmured, his voice dropping into an oily whisper of conspiracy.
It took a moment for Amrys to react. He yawned. The teeth that started out
human were long, preternaturally sharp fangs by the time the yawn was full. The
fangs glistened. He licked one canine, then the other lazily. Allowing a long
moment for the wizard to see the lethal points. Amrys blinked his glowing eyes
at the man sitting across from him.
"I will not agree to being used as a pawn in this, Albus." Snape spoke up
angrily, his tone frigid. His expression was thunderous. "It is simply
unconscionable."
"But, surely you of all people can see the advantages...." The headmaster
asserted, stubbornly.
"No. Thank you." Snape sat stiffly. Amrys waited until he was certain his mate
had said all he felt he needed to.
"I will not agree to returning our students until you have made it clear the
lycanthropes are not to blame for these events." He said quietly, firm.
"Perhaps Lucius...." Dumbledore began. Amrys shook his head.
"We are of like mind on this." Amrys answered. "You will be wasting your time."
"Very well. But, I will merely pass it on that a rogue witch was responsible. I
will not agree to releasing her name or her position. Is that acceptable?"
Dumbledore managed through clenched teeth. He was furious, this was not how he
pictured the talk going.
"Yes, if that is all you you can come up with. I would prefer the truth. But,
if you will not agree to the full truth, I can do nothing for you that your
conscience does not. The children will return, once we have heard that you have
cleared our people of all blame. There must not be any doubts that linger. No
possible misinterpretation." Amrys fixed the old man with the full weight of
his glare.
"Naturally not." Dumbledore grumbled. He glared at them both, his colleague and
the were-leopard. Then he turned on his heel to leave.
"Oh, headmaster?" Amrys called out to him, still reclining comfortably. His
voice deepening ominously.
"What is it?" Dumbledore turned, snapping at the man irritably. His brows were
drawn down, gaze threatening, unmistakably unhappy. His teeth ground together.
He would have to work hard to salvage his reputation.
"You would be well advised not to approach our young in any capacity that might
be misinterpreted. We will defend our young-lings. And...." He paused, watching
Dumbledore's face contort with outraged fury...
"Your invitation is revoked." Amrys smiled as the immediate reverse-apparation
flowed over the wizard, taking him by surprise. His image twisted, stretched,
and pfffttt! he was gone, absolute amazement written across his howling face.
Amrys sat with quiet dignity and watched the disapparation, casting his eyes
cautiously to the side, trying to catch Snape's expression.
Stony. Disapproving. Amrys swallowed.
Then Snape's dark eyes flicked over to his gaze. The rigid visage cracked. The
fearsome Potion's Master Head of Slytherin House, Defense Against the Dark Arts
Scholar, broke down and collapsed, giggling madly.
***** Chapter 86 *****
Chapter 86
 
Lucius lay with his head on Graeme's lap. The copper haired were-leopard ran
his fingers through the long white-blond locks of his king. Amrys sat cross-
legged on the end of the bed, his hip brushing Lucius' legs. Snape had stayed
with Draco to look the Mother and his new children over. Harry had been
persuaded to go along, not that it had taken much convincing. He was eager to
see the new infants. Hopefully Yaji and Mantheer would allow him close enough
to touch the babies or the Chosen would be very disappointed.
Graeme had his doubts but it was worth a try. He himself had not gotten closer
than the doorway of Draco's rooms before being warned off by the larger were-
leopards with an impressive threat display. They were fierce in their
protection of their mate and his offspring. For, in spite of Amrys' fathering
of the heirs, Draco was undoubtedly the mate of the guardians. Time would see
that mating consummated.
Only Severus and Amrys were allowed near Draco and his babies. Even Kaithas was
turned away when he had come at Draco's request to see if the children were
indeed not resistant to lycanthropy. Tanith roused a cacophony of roaring
protests when she had come to pay her respects. She had gracefully withdrawn,
without anger, she was as Graeme thought a very wise woman.
Snape tended to enter the nursery without warning and had never been challenged
by either of the hovering leopards, completely accepted by Yaji and Mantheer as
belonging with the heirs, necessary for their well-being. Amrys was far more
cautious, crawling in on his belly, waiting for the other two to sniff him over
letting him enter with their approval most of the time. Graeme had to admire
the human wizard's gall. The man would be a fine leopard with balls like that,
willing to face down the guardians without so much as a shudder of un-ease. If
Amrys ever asked for permission to turn him. Graeme would back his choice. If
Amrys did not think of it, Graeme intended to bring it up himself. No wonder
Amrys, always a lover of were-leopards, had finally chosen this man as his one
human lover. Unless Graeme was far less observant than he thought, as his
future mate, too.
"So, Dumbledore will not come clean." Lucius said, resting comfortably under
the soothing touch of his Tres. He moved his cheek so it rubbed along Graeme's
thigh. He was not surprised that the wily old wizard was not going to take any
of the blame for one of his teachers, one he had been tasked with full
responsibility for approving, turning out to be a deranged killer.
"No. Not for any price I would say. He will protect his own interests even at
the expense of all the lycanthropes." Amrys asserted. "I have agreed to allow
the children to return to their studies if he makes it clear to the rest of the
wizarding world we had no part in the killings. If he fails to clear us
unequivocally, the risk to our kittens will be too great to send them back to
Hogwarts."
"It can be argued that we also hold some responsibility for the events that
occurred. We should have suspected Andromeda sooner and watched her more
carefully." Lucius sighed. "I at least sensed her madness was growing. She had
been frustrated in her aims for so long it drove her over the edge of madness.
I should have realized she would take such drastic measures. I should have seen
it and stopped her."
"Her insanity was well hidden. We watched her as we were able. There was no
sign she had sought the aid of the mad witch. A woman who should have been in
Azkaban if Dumbledore had watched *her* well." Graeme insisted hotly. "Besides,
you had tasked me with her elimination. I was too late. I should have left the
Manor and not returned until I had found her. I should have killed her when she
was seized by Tambyn's people. Not allowed her to live and to escape."
"We trusted that they would not allow her to escape, that she was held well in
their custody. Trelawny broke her out of her prison. We could not foresee
that." Lucius said, melting under the caressing fingers of both his co-rulers.
Amrys had pulled the king's feet into his lap and worked at them with his
strong hands. Lucius barely held back a groan as he continued with his train of
thought.
"Dumbledore could argue the same, that we did not watch Andromeda well enough
and so caused all of this tragedy. Sybil Trelawny was a teacher, one who showed
no sign of her madness until it was too late to stop her." Lucius said,
enjoying the rhythmic stroking of the hand on his head as it feathered through
his thick hair. His third had always been the one to take on this duty of
comforting his king. Amrys joining in was an unusual bonus. The second sensing
the king was in need of special comfort and responding to that.
Amrys and Lucius, close as they were, were less likely to offer each other
physical or sexual comfort. They slept next to each other, had for decades now,
inseparable, but their ranks were so close that at times Lucius felt Amrys,
though called his second, held a rank equal to his, that he was an extension of
himself in a way that went beyond ruling as second to the king. Amrys took
pains to assure the king that he *was* the second, that he *was* subordinate,
but Lucius, especially now that Amrys was the Sire, thought that to be cutting
the truth a little fine.
The loyalty that Amrys showed to the pride and to Lucius was unquestioned. He
was a wall of strength at the king's back. And Graeme, the one who followed the
laws to the letter, the one who enforced them, who took the role of guardian of
pack law, he was the one who reached out his deadly hand and petted, calmed and
loved away the hurts, be it by his touch or occasionally with the offer of his
submission, of his body and sex. Lucius accepted and valued that from his
third. Rare thing that a king was so blessed with two who ruled with honor,
loyalty, and such love at his side.
There was no competition between them. No questioning of their rightful places.
Lucius had shared his Chosen, his beloved, with the Tres. Graeme had accepted,
as well as submitted, just as Lucius had needed him to. It had been almost
unfair to force the issue, force Graeme to acknowledge their positions, their
ranks, but Lucius had required it. So Graeme had willingly, happily, given him
his body, reaffirming that Lucius was his dominant and his king, that Lucius
owned him, his loyalty, every thing he was. Lucius nuzzled his face into
Graeme's palm, feeling the resultant shiver of acknowledgment run through the
third's body.
"He should have felt her magic, when she used it so close to him. He is the
Headmaster, he must be aware of all the spells going on at Hogwarts. He is not
a weakling wizard. He was lazy, didn't take the time to monitor the wards."
Graeme asserted, firmly. He traced a finger over a fine-wrought eyebrow, ran a
thumb along the curve of his king's ear. There was silence among them for a
time, then Amrys spoke, low into the quiet.
"Are you well, my king?" Amrys asked. He circled his hands around the king's
ankles, rubbing away the tension, moving up the calf of each leg. Until he was
rewarded with a sigh of bliss.
"I am well as can be expected. I ache for my Marked. I tried to tell him the
reason he was leaving with the Weasleys. That it was not punishment. That it
was because it was best for him, for them and for the pride. He did not believe
me." Lucius' voice was thick with the recall of his former Marked's pain.
"He obeyed." Graeme said, with satisfaction. "He did what his king requested of
him. That is the act of an honorable leopard. He will be a good, strong man.
You made the right choice for him."
"Giving up your Marked was an unselfish act. It is what I would have expected
of you, you are a more than average king, Lucius Malfoy, I am privileged to
follow you." Amrys added his opinion. He knew how hard the act of giving up the
kitten had been.
"To rule beside me, with me." Was Lucius' response to that, reaching down his
powerful arm to seize one of Amrys' hands, squeezing it. "And I did not wish to
give him up. I wanted to hold onto him with both hands, to sink into him, meld
our bodies into one. I was not being noble when I let him go."
"Yes, you were. You are the noblest of kings. I would not have any in your
place." Amrys said with quiet certainty.
"Harry was glad to have one less to take your attention from him. Though, at
the ceremony he realized just what you were giving up and it tore his heart in
two." Graeme put in quietly. The Chosen's reaction had pleased him. The boy had
love, compassion, as well as an untutored strength. Strength could be
cultivated. The compassion he had shown was far more rare and valuable. It
could not be taught.
"He possesses great depth of feeling, does my Chosen. For all his protests, for
all the troubles he has had adjusting to us and to our way of life, I think
that keeping him was the right choice after all. I had feared for a time, I had
not been wise. That despite my love for him, despite the pull between us, that
it would have been kinder to end it when he first came to me, before we bonded
as king and Chosen." Lucius murmured. "I did not like to see him suffer, I did
not know how to relieve it."
"I think, my king, that even then the choice was already made by fate, that you
could not have done other than what you did do. The binding was set in the
first instant that you met. Kaithas has spoken of the strength of the ties, he
has never felt any so strong. You never had any choice, it was set, meant to
be, the Gods hands were in it." Amrys said in turn.
"How romantic!" Lucius half-laughed. "I was no doubt not what he wanted at
first. I am old and set in my ways. He deserved the love of his fellow kittens,
innocent pleasure, not this deep, frightening binding he must live with day in
and day out. He was not prepared for it. I have to possess him, own him.
Control him. It is hardly what a kitten's first love should be."
"You are a were-leopard in your prime!" Amrys chided gently. "And this
relationship, it is what you both need. Nothing is without trial. Nothing worth
having is simple and without conflict. It is the power of your feelings for
each other that make it so. You need fire, he needs flame. Together you burn
until he is roused to be the balm, then he accepts and soothes your heat. He
will keep you sane, my king. He will be spoken of with reverence by the
generations that follow ours. They will know how great his gift is to you and
to the pride as a whole. He is needed and loved." Amrys spoke softly, with
absolute assurance, conviction.
Harry, outside the door, felt faint. He had tried to stay with Draco and the
new babies, but Yaji and Mantheer would not have it. He had had a glimpse of
the two tiny, beautiful children, but after that one glimpse not even Draco's
pleas on his behalf had swayed the huge guardians. They'd growled and hissed,
Harry had wisely though reluctantly left, heading back, wanting to be with the
king if he could not stay with Draco and fuss over the infants.
Now he had inadvertently heard the words Amrys had spoken about him. He could
hardly credit it that the second would feel like that, that he believed that
about him, Harry Potter. Harry sniffled.
Lucius lifted his head, hearing the tiny sound. He nodded at Graeme, the third
got up out of the furs and padded on silent feet to the hall. He lifted the
emotional kitten into his arms, carried him back to the king. Lucius enfolded
the small, cherished body into his embrace, holding him close. Graeme snuggled
up behind the boy, while Amrys, completing the group, slid behind Lucius, long
arms wrapped around his king.
***** Chapter 87 *****
Chapter 87
 
Draco demanded to be let out for a while the next day. He left the babies in
Snape's care, somewhat reluctantly, as he had wished that Yaji and Mantheer
would let them go outside as well, then wandered out onto the ground, breathing
deeply of the crisp, early morning air.
Mantheer was with him, close behind, alertly scanning the area. Draco doubted
that degree of vigilance was necessary, not any longer, but he was thankful to
have the big cat watching out for him. Bill Weasley had greatly improved the
wards, Draco had seen the plans and diagrams. He'd been very impressed. Even
Dumbledore had had to have permission to enter the Manor. A condition that had
no doubt irked the older man. Draco smirked. It sure paid having one as
talented as Bill at the king's call.
He smiled. He was truly happy. It had seemed like nothing would ever compare to
being the heir, being a lycanthrope, but the babies, the real heirs, were
wonderful, blessedly quieter than he'd been led to expect infants were. He had
finally caught up on his rest. With Mantheer and Yaji always ready to jump in
and care for the children, it had not taken long for him to recover.
He was continually amazed at how alike the twins were, and how like their
father, the Sire. Their hair was nearly the same color as his, though theirs
had not yet thickened still downy soft as feathers, and their eyes were
darkening away from the pale gold color that had at first reminded Draco of
autumn leaves, their irises now were a deeper amber, changing so rapidly Draco
was constantly surprised. They were more alert, aware of their surroundings,
looking around, tracking movement. When they weren't blissfully asleep.
The babies had also seemed to form an attachment to Severus Snape. They perked
up whenever he came around to examine them. Well as much as babies that young
could perk up. Draco was not looking forward to when his professor had to
leave, to go back to Hogwarts. He liked having the wizard around to help, just
for company if he was honest with himself. He actually liked Snape.
The feel of the damp grass was startling when he stepped onto it with his bared
feet. And welcome. He loved being outside, feeling the wind in his hair,
against his face. He strolled along the well-manicured lawns. Mantheer was
instantly at his side, hand on his shoulder, as together they walked beneath
the overhanging trees, Mantheer shielding him from the unlikely possibility of
an attack, or maybe just falling tree limbs.
Draco missed Harry. He smiled at that. Who would have believed that Draco
Malfoy would end up friends with Harry Potter, would want to actually seek out
his company? The competition between the two boys had never been jovial or
friendly when they were enrolled at Hogwarts. Draco didn't exactly know why
that was.
But here, at the Manor, among the members of the pride, things were different.
Less angry, more caring, safer. Draco knew no one was going to make fun of him
for liking the other boy. For talking with him, for being silly, or caring what
happened to him, caring if he was happy. School never made either Draco or
Potter happy. There was a constant underlying anxiety, as if they had both been
watched and monitored, others just waiting for a chance to ridicule them for
the smallest weakness.
Here, though, Draco snuggled up against Mantheer as they strolled, here things
were better. If he needed a hug, he got one. He smiled as Mantheer lifted him
up, knowing exactly what Draco wanted. Riding in the big man's arms. Being
held. Feeling the awesome flex of muscle against his body. Draco sighed in
undiluted pleasure.
Sure he had not been taken to the furs yet, but he had started thinking about
how it would be when it happened. He knew it would happen.He knew his view of
sex had undergone a fundamental change. He probably was still heterosexual, or
would be if he was not living with the pack. He was astonished how little of
his time was taken up with worry over anything at the moment, even things like
sex.
The wizarding world was more oriented to heterosexuality, family lines, here no
one lay with the females without sanction. The females were the carriers of
life fundamentally sacred. They lay with men when a child was desired, when
they, the females wanted them. Males did not lay with them to slake their lust.
Draco had never considered a male lover. Not until lately. Even the brief
pleasure Amrys had given him had not changed his mindset. But there was
something that had changed. He didn't know if it was being accepted into the
pride, or if it were simply opportunity or situational, but he found himself
considering taking males to his furs, becoming excited by the prospect.
Well, scratch that. Not unspecified males. He was thinking of Mantheer and
Yaji. He loved having them near, loved touching them. Had hated being away from
them when he was at Hogwarts. He had taken the chance to go home at every
opportunity. He had spent time with them. And never questioned himself, or his
reasons. They had made him feel safe, good, and loved. None of his school
friends had known how he felt about them. They were held deep in his heart,
away from possible ridicule. He would not have tolerated the jeering comments
of Crabbe and Goyle or the other Slytherins. Not about the pride, most
especially not about his guardians.
Dating girls and the last two years of taking them to bed, that was entirely
separate from the pride and his life there. He wondered if his feelings for
Mantheer and Yaji had been the reason he had never even came close to
experimenting with other boys. Seemed like every one else had. Better to have a
fumble with your best chum, than risk rejection from one of the girls, Draco
supposed. Only he had not been rejected. He had done fine, enjoyed the
encounters with girls, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, even a lone Gryffindor. None of
the Hufflepuffs had appealed, but that was neither here nor there.
He had wondered, after the conception, what it would be like to have had an
affair with Harry while they were at school. He had tried to find it arousing
but failed. Harry was courageous, kind, and passionate. Yes. But he was too
young. Sure Draco liked girls his own age. But men? He preferred older,
stronger, powerful, intimidating. Men who were large, muscular. He realized he
had completely imprinted on Mantheer and Yaji. His tastes when it came to males
were set for life, before he had even realized he had such attractions. He
squirmed in Mantheer's hold, ran a hand over the fantastic bulge of the larger
man's bicep, squeezing. Mantheer rumbled, nuzzling his throat, while keeping an
eye on their surroundings.
Oh, Gods, that was fine! To feel the rush of adrenaline the man's touch sent
coursing through him. An undiscovered well of riches. His body tingled, he felt
a definite twitch of interest in his groin. The first since the birth. He had
not expected it, not so soon, but it was there, a burning hunger, an emptiness,
a desire to be filled, as he had only experienced once before. Too bad his body
had been changed from the hermaphroditic form he'd taken on to give birth.
experimenting with that body would have been fun. But knowing Mantheer and
Yaji, they would not have taken a female to their furs, not even him. Not even
a young man with temporary female parts.
Now, fully male once again, maybe it was time. He felt a rush of desire, of
interest. Mantheer's nostrils dilated, he drew in a whuff of air and Draco knew
the were-leopard had picked up his pheromones. Knew Draco was aroused. The big
hand that cupped his buttock confirmed it. Not that it was a true grope,
nothing so crass. They both treated him like he was made of glass. It was
exactly the right thing, too, because he trusted them not to hurt him. They
were huge men, far larger than himself, and larger by a good bit than Amrys.
And Amrys had scared him. Mantheer and Yaji did not. They would touch him with
reverence, with massive hands that held only gentleness, sweetness and concern,
and heat, and lust and love. When it was time Draco was not going to be afraid.
His whole being would be singing with need and desire.
He smiled dropping a careful kiss over the pulse at Mantheer's neck. He was
looking forward to the time. He was happy being the Mother. He was happy with
his children. He was looking forward to them growing up. To seeing them someday
rule. He was looking forward to the future without worry and anxiety. Perhaps
the first time he could say that. He knew his place in the pride, now there was
no worry it would be taken from him. He had felt adrift when he discovered he
could not change, that he'd never be a lycanthrope., It didn't matter any more.
He was the Mother.
He hoped Harry was as happy. He had seen Potter briefly the other night. When
Harry had tried to see the babies. Yaji and Mantheer had not been comfortable
or welcoming. Still in maximum protective mode. They had chased Harry away
after mere moments. They were however, beginning to relax a bit as the twins
became more familiar to them, as Draco felt better. Soon they would allow other
visitors, though they would remain protective, Draco had no doubt.
Draco hoped Harry was being taken care of. He'd heard of the debacle when Troy
was given over to Bill and Charlie. How Harry had cried, taking the angst to
heart, finally understanding what emotions were involved, that the king took no
casual lovers, that Lucius had loved the other kitten, and that his leaving so
young, prematurely was a source of great pain to the king as well as to Troy
himself.
He wished that Harry would experience something that wasn't painful. The pride
had tried to love him, but Harry always seemed to end up hurt. Draco thought
they would all just have to try harder. Harry was too important to the pride
and to him not to make sure Potter knew how much they all cared about him. In
fact, he wanted to do something to see to Harry's happiness. He pursed his
lips.
The lycanthrope kings had accepted Tanith as the Queen, no doubt still shaken
by what Harry had done. The females of the pride were pleased. Everything was
hunky dory, but what did Harry have to show him the pride understood his place?
Sure they called him the Chosen, but a boy like Harry, coming from the family
life he had growing up, he should have something more. Something that could not
be questioned.
Harry should have a wedding of his own. Draco squirmed in Mantheer's arms, the
excitement sudden and undeniable. That was it. He was going to give Harry a
wedding. Even if it was just among their pride alone, it would mean a lot to
the other youth. When he saw that Lucius would stand up with him and speak the
words of commitment, that would mean a lot. that would confirm the feeling his
father had for his friend. His best friend. Draco pressed his grinning face
into the guardian's neck.
"Mani? I need your help." Draco said.
***** Chapter 88 *****
Chapter 88
 
Harry swallowed. He was nervous. He was still in shock over Lucius agreeing to
let his godfather and Remus Lupin apparate into the Manor for the meeting.
Lucius had not parted with Sirius on good terms during the last encounter. He
resented the other man trying to take Harry from him and the pride. So, the
king insisted on being present for this meeting, between wolf, wolf, and
leopard.
Lucius still didn't trust the wolves. Especially when it came to the safety of
his Chosen. Godfather or not. Harry, all a titter, happy to have support with
him when his godfather arrived, and very happy it was Lucius, reluctantly
agreed. Sirius had tried to enlist the help of his own king to take his godson
away. And Tambyn took the further step of calling on the Seer's Council to get
custody of the were-leopard, through legal means. The were-wolves would be here
at any moment.
And Lucius was going to be at hand, in case there was any more funny business
planned. Graeme had offered to be there, but Lucius had declined, trying to
keep the gathering lower keyed, have more of a chance it will be peaceful. Less
likely to explode into some horrific confrontation. He hoped that would be
possible. The volatile nature of the black wolf was a wild card, hard to
predict. Having the quick to react Graeme there, in the audience room, ready to
jump in and defend any slight, well, it wasn't too stabilizing an influence.
So, just Lucius. With help waiting on alert, only a quick call away.
Harry paced through the private audience room. Quivering with excitement and
anticipation. He was eager to see both Sirius and Remus. He'd missed the
teacher during the time he had not been studying at Hogwarts. Sirius had long
been traveling out of the country, only to return and learn Harry had been
changed into a lycanthrope, but not a wolf. A feline. It had infuriated the
other man. He had hoped to have Harry accepted into his own pack. But by the
time Harry was of age at 18, it was too late. He was a were-leopard. It took
some serious, unstable magic to change that, and the magical treatment had been
refused him. The Seers thought Harry was perfectly placed where he was.
Lucius watched his Chosen. The raven-haired boy was frantic with nerves, his
cheeks flushed pink. Harry had begun sitting calmly by Lucius' side at the
center of the couch, one shoulder brushing the older man's arm. He had started
to fidget almost at once. He'd been quiet for about two minutes, then his leg
started jumping and swinging. He plucked at his tunic hem, unraveling the edge
of the silk.
Lucius read from the stack of scrolls he'd brought with him. Talking to Harry
did not calm him, that usually required some kind of physical exertion and
right now sex was not the best option. Harry would be upset if his godfather
walked into that kind of stress reduction, so Lucius remained quiet, letting
Harry work off the excess nerves his own way. The young man fairly vibrated
with energy that had no where to go.
Harry had progressed from swinging his leg, to fidgeting, to standing, and
finally to shifting foot to foot, then to hop-walking. Now he was pacing. He
was rubbing damp palms on his robes, the loose trousers and tunic not
inhibiting him at all, billowing out as he turned and paced, paced and turned.
He nibbled on his already short fingernails.
They were waiting for Sirius and Remus just under ten minutes when Lucius felt
the change in the air and looked up. Harry, still pacing, was doing it with a
lashing, long, darkly furred tail. The extremity twitched and waved behind him,
quivering, with Harry paid no attention to it at all. In fact, Lucius would lay
bets that his Chosen had no idea he was now sporting a tail. Lucius sighed. He
knew this was not how Harry wanted to meet the wolves, as a cat. But once the
process started, the youth was not too terribly gifted at reversing it, until
he had gone to the entirely furry stage.
Lucius hoped that Sirius was not going to be much longer. He let the scrolls
fall into his lap and watched the youth pacing restlessly. The enticing tail
and delightfully pert bum twitching under the fine silk, made for enjoyable
watching. Harry was muttering to himself, twining his hands, wringing them, as
he waited. He bit his lip, and Lucius had a nearly impossible urge to overcome,
putting his own mouth there.
The ears were next to go, just as Lucius had learned to expect. The young man
had never found it easy to retain his human ears once the change began. This
time Lucius watched as the two small human ears morphed into two large, mobile,
triangular ones, nice and furry, also twitching, front and back, back and
front, alternately flattening to his skull and lifting to point alertly
forward. Again Harry seemed unaware of the change.
The click, click, click of claws drew Lucius' gaze to the floor, and the big
fluffy paws that had by now, substituted for Harry's bare feet. Half-extended
claws, tapped on the floor with each step, faster and faster, tick, tick tick,
as Harry never slowed, rather he increased his pace.
Lucius let the scrolls fall off to one side of the couch and concentrated his
entire attention on the youth, he raised his brows as, with a sproing!, the
long, stiff, black whiskers sprouted one bristling group to each side of
Harry's very human nose.
Finally, Harry noticed, stopping and raising his hands to his face. He poked
himself in the nose with a sharp claw. Then his hands flew up to his ears,
fingering them, two large fuzzy triangles, and then waved his tail into view,
craning over his shoulder, frowning. Then he extended out a hind paw and
wiggled the kitty-toes. He pouted, opening his mouth experimentally he tried to
speak, succeeding in producing a tentative rowl. He sighed, licking his lips
nervously...with what was a rough, sinuous, feline tongue.
Harry let out a moan of protest, stamping a paw. He couldn't even speak! His
godfather was coming to visit and now he was not able to talk to him! He let
out another tentative mewl, his eyes going over to Lucius and begging him
silently for help.
The king sat with all his attention focused on his Chosen, waiting to see what
his beautiful, half feline mate would do next. Harry's expression grew
thunderous, his lips pushed out, and he yowled. Lucius braced himself for what
was sure to happen next.
Harry sprang. He easily covered the dozen feet that was between them. Landing
in Lucius' lap and yowling his distress. Lucius petted him, stroking the
luxurious fur. Digging his strong fingers into the kitten's growing ruff, as
Harry continued to change forms. Emerald eyes glittered, frantic, anxious,
Lucius murmured soothing sounds, purred, nuzzled and stroked the distressed
young-ling.
It seemed that Sirius and Remus were going to have to make do, at least for a
while, with a kitten.
***** Chapter 89 *****
Chapter 89
 
At the two sharp "pops" that heralded the apparation of the wolves, Harry
lifted his head off of its resting place on Lucius' lap. Lucius' fingers,
tangled in his fur, released their hold after a last, gentle scratch. Harry let
out a quiet "mewwwww". He sat up a bit and watched as the two men appeared amid
a cloud of dirt and sandy debris. He waited, head cocked to the side, as Sirius
and Remus dusted themselves off, sending a veritable storm up into the air.
Harry's sensitive kitty-cat nose twitched, whiskers bristling.
Remus was first to finish, he looked up. His kindly eyes fixed on Harry right
away, immediately he took a step forward, smiling. "Hullo, Harry. Looks like
you got a bit excited. It is good to see you again." He hesitated, glancing
back over his shoulder at the other wolf. "Come on, Siri, hurry up. You look
fine. A bit of dust isn't going to put Harry off." Remus smiled at the waiting
kitten.
Harry perked up at that. He sat all the way up on the couch, untangling himself
from where he had been curled around the alpha. Uncertain of the greeting he
would receive, he hesitated to jump down and run to the man he considered his
only real relative. After all they were canids, and he, was a feline. But,
Remus seemed really glad to see him, kitty or not. Harry sat up straighter,
scootching closer to the edge.
Sirius finished shaking out his coat and bounded over to the couch. "Feels like
we just apparated through the entire Sahara on our backs." He grumbled, the
characteristic frown almost genial today. Harry squirmed restlessly at the
verge of the couch, leaning forward, his tail quivering eagerly, almost falling
off onto the tiles, Lucius' hand steadying him at the last instant, saving him
from an ignoble tumble. Sirius' black eyes drilled into his godson's emerald
green ones. "You really do smell bad." He grumbled. "Like a cat, or something."
Remus rolled his eyes, but managed not to say anything in return. Harry
blinked, waving his tail somewhat uncertainly. Then Sirius threw his arms
around the boy/kitten, hugging him hard. Harry tried to wrap his own arms
around the man, but they didn't bend in the same ways as human arms. He ended
up with his paws draped over Sirius' shoulders and his tongue enthusiastically
lapping at the were-wolf's face.
"Oh, god! Your. Breath. Is. Horrible. Harry. Fish breath!" Sirius half-
grumbled, turning his face side to side to avoid the wettest of the licks.
Remus rapped him sharply on the top of his head.
"We talked about this. None of that. He's a cat. We can't all be perfect you
know." Remus warned his mate. "No snarking. Be good, Siri." He winked at
Lucius, who was very interested in the greeting going on next to him. Harry
obviously loved this man. Actually both of them, but especially the dark
haired, disheveled man he was grooming so enthusiastically.
Lucius watched with interest as Harry was allowed to continue licking his
godfather, purring and waving his tail. Sirius finally had to give into
laughter despite wrinkling his nose at the were-leopard scent. Harry at last
backed off, panting with excitement, just as Sirius lost his precarious balance
and the two of them tumbled to the floor in a heap of arms, legs, furry limbs,
with one long tail sprouting up from the middle of the tangle.
Remus and Lucius exchanged a look. Remus could not hold back an unusually broad
grin, one showing all of his slightly sharper than human teeth. And in response
Lucius lost his battle with dignity and roared with laughter. Harry's head
popped up at the sound and he blinked at his king who was clutching his belly
as he chortled. Sirius raised his head up off the floor a moment later, looking
as if he wasn't sure if he should be insulted or not. One look at Remus decided
him, and he grinned in turn.
"Why don't you sit?" Lucius offered mildly, once they had recovered a bit. He
pulled Harry up to sit near him on the couch; personally he thought Harry
smelled distractingly wonderful. Indicating the comfortable chairs in front of
the couch, he waited until the two were-wolves were seated. "He'll be able to
change back soon. Until then, would you care for tea?"
Remus accepted the first cup. Sirius the second. He glared at the brew. "Could
use a pint, instead." He groused, falling into a slight scowl as he sniffed the
bland steam. "Or at the very least a butter-beer."
Harry rowled in definite interest at the last, casting a beseeching look at
Lucius. Lucius bit his lip to keep from laughing at his Chosen and nodded.
"Yes, I would enjoy one myself. But, kittens in animal form do not drink
alcohol. You will have to change back, love." His pale blue-grey eyes were
affectionate and warm as he regarded Harry, one brow raised in challenge. Harry
showed all his teeth.
"Please bring us three pints and a butter-beer." Lucius asked the guardian who
appeared in response to the summons. The tall male disappeared out the door
once again. "Now, Harry. Concentrate. A deep breath. Relax."
Harry closed his eyes and did his best to obey the quiet instructions. He took
a deep calming breath. He wanted to be human. He wanted to talk. He wanted to
have a butter-beer with Remus, Sirius and Lucius. He *liked* butter-beer. He
hadn't had one in months. Hadn't missed it until now. But, now, he needed one.
The fur receded slowly from the young man's face, fading back from the
quivering whiskers. The transformation was gradual, from kitten to youth. At
last Harry sat, quite bare, on the couch next to the were-leopard king. Lucius
handed him a folded pair of trousers from the back of the couch. Gratefully,
Harry slipped them on, just as the tray with the drinks arrived. Harry eyed his
tall bottle eagerly, licking his lips, he was, abruptly, so very thirsty.
Lucius solemnly handed it to the young man at his side after serving the guests
first. Harry nearly pounced on it. He took a long, delicious pull at the drink,
feeling the liquid slide smoothly down his throat. He swallowed, eyes drifting
closed, as his thirst was quenched by the cool, tangy-sweet taste of the
butter-beer. He drew in another mouthful, gulped it down. Sighed and shivered a
little. Then he lowered the half finished bottle, smiling happily.
The three men in the room were staring at him. Lucius openly, the look on his
face one of intense hunger, Remus with a pink flush to his cheeks, and Sirius
in pure shock. Harry felt a blush creep up his cheeks. Lucius reached out and
stroked a soothing hand down Harry's side. Harry leaned into the touch,
scooting closer to the big, comforting body.
"You are quite beautiful, Harry Potter." Lucius said, not shy about declaring
his affection openly in front of these men, who to him, were near strangers.
They were important to his lover,which meant Lucius wanted them to have no
doubt as to how he felt about their friend and godson. Harry looked up into
Lucius' handsome face, the look of adoration was enough to make Lucius' heart
swell in his chest.
The sparkling green eyes, the parted lips, the faint pink tinge to the silky,
smooth skin. Lucius knew he was lost, and didn't try to fight the impulse that
compelled him to lower his face, to cover Harry's mouth with a gentle, loving
kiss. His mouth melded to the soft, sweet lips that clung to his own, the
chaste kiss blossoming to an open invitation, he allowed himself to give in, a
fraction, to send his tongue into the wonderful, warm mouth of his Chosen, to
lift his hand and cup the youth's chin. Harry's hands rose to grasp Lucius'
arms, to curl around the thick biceps he admired and loved to feel. Making
clear his desire to be held closer.
Lucius pulled back from the kiss at the very last instant before he would have
tumbled Harry back onto the couch and moved to cover his body with his own. He
wanted desperately to tear the recently donned pants from the body he craved,
he wanted to sink into its well known depths and whisper his love and need into
the pale curve of throat that arched so invitingly under his mouth.
Sirius and Remus were both still as statues, pint glasses held in numb fingers
as they watched the sensual exchange going on in front of them. Sirius' glass
slipped the last little bit, crashing to the floor, shattering, spilling the
drink across the tiles. Unnoticed, and unmourned.
Sirius tried to feel enraged, appalled at the lack of privacy for his godson,
wolves were never so overt, but he was not able to deny the sheer beauty of the
two were-leopards together. They touched each other with unmistakable love.
There was worship in the hands that cradled Harry's face. The were-leopard
king's eyes were filled with....reverence. There was no other word for that
look. Lucius Malfoy loved his godson, loved Harry. Sirius took a deep breath,
wanting to growl and bite and snarl, prepared for it, but...now, seeing this,
he couldn't.
"Harry." He said softly. And waited until the boy's shining face turned to him.
It was all he could do not to gasp at the expression that dear face held. "Oh.
Harry. I am so glad for you. I am so...pleased. I have no reservations, not
now. I wanted you to be with me, so I could care for you, keep you safe, and
keep you from being hurt. But, if I had to lose you in order for you to find
this.... Then I am grateful, I thank Merlin that you are happy."
"In that case," Draco said, from where he had been standing in the doorway,
listening. Yaji loomed behind him, hovering protectively. "I guess we can
expect you for the wedding."
Harry whirled around and stared at the other boy. Lucius drew himself up. "What
wedding are you referring to, my son?"
"Yours and Harry's." Draco responded with satisfaction. He lifted his chin.
"Don't you dare say no, my king, it is time you made it clear what your Chosen
means to you."
Lucius regarded his son for a long moment, Harry held his breath as the king
deliberated, then Lucius nodded. "Yes, it *is* time."
Harry let out a squeak. Dropping his own butter-beer.
***** Chapter 90 *****
Chapter 90
 
Draco was grinning from ear to ear as he allowed Yaji to carry him away from
the meeting between Sirius, Remus, Lucius and Harry. He'd crashed the meeting
with the best of intentions, making his announcement to all the men at once.
Things could not have gone better. Walking in on that kiss between his father
and Harry...he still tingled from just thinking about it and hearing Sirius'
acceptance of the obvious then being able to announce the planned wedding. He
had actually made Harry squeak! Most importantly, his father had agreed to the
wedding.
Well, not really a wedding. But a ceremony. Acknowledging the feeling the two
men harbored for each other, the deep sense of commitment. Lucius was already
married in the eyes of the lycanthrope community. To Tanith. The pride's female
seer. But, it was not a marriage in more than mutual respect and the
recognition that the female's of the pride needed the position of traditional
power that the Queen represented. It was a marriage of friendship, not passion.
So, while this ceremony would mean more to the men who took part, it would not
challenge the Queen's place. Harry though, would be given the chance to see how
he was held in love and valued by the people he was now part of. The pride. And
after the ritual was completed, no one would doubt how the King revered him,
loved him. Harry needed to know he was loved. Add to that, Sirius and Remus had
agreed to participate. All in all Draco was pretty happy.
The only fly in the ointment came when Remus had come closer to greet him, arms
opening in preparation for a hug, and Yaji had grabbed Draco up and swung him
out of reach, snarling low in his throat. Remus had diplomatically withdrawn,
he wasn't a stupid man after all.
"Yaj," Draco had scolded the big man in exasperation. "We are going to have to
talk. You, me and Mantheer." Yaji's fiery eyes had met his, and the guardian
had showed bared fangs. Not the resolution Draco was looking for.
Draco knew he was going to have to address this overly possessive
protectiveness that the guardians were exhibiting towards him. It was easing up
some now they actually let him leave his rooms, but not fast enough. Even now
when he did leave the rooms, he was almost always accompanied. He liked that
they watched over him and the children. But he was ready for a little of his
own independence back. He smiled as he leaned his cheek into Yaji's shoulder,
letting himself enjoy the warmth, the feeling of complete safety, of belonging.
His own hand rested on one of the large man's arms, the play of muscle very
distracting.
"I am not going to be in danger from Remus," Draco murmured. "I know he is a
were-wolf but he was my teacher for several years. And I am not a were-leopard.
I will be safe near him. He has no reason to harm me."
Yaji only grunted. He did, however, lower his head and sniff at the silky
tresses of Draco's hair. The only smells there, were Draco's, the twins', and
Mantheer and Yaji's. No stranger's smell. The scent seemed to calm him, his
posture relaxing, the embrace not so fierce, not so tight. Draco let out a
sigh. Better. It was nice to be held, just not squeezed quite that hard.
Once Yaji carried him into the rooms they shared with Mantheer and the babies,
Draco fully expected to be set down on the floor so he could get on with his
business of the day. Instead Yaji carried him across the room all the way to
the great bed.
Mantheer looked up from where he was bending over the cribs. The blond saw the
gaze they exchanged and knew in a split second they had different plans for
him. His breath caught in his chest. The right time had finally arrived.
Yaji placed Draco in the center of the mattress, crawling up into the furs
after him. Draco felt something shift at that simple action. The intensity of
the large guardian was different, his eyes unflinching, soft, but with an
intent in them Draco was not able to miss. Yaji was going to touch him, really
touch him, make love to him. Now. Today. Draco began trembling. He lifted his
arms and put his palms against the smooth-shaven cheeks of the man leaning over
him, sinking his fingers into the thick brown hair.
"Yaji," He sighe, as that one turned his face into the simple touch of the
young man's hands. Yaji applied his tongue to Draco's hands and wrists, long,
hot-wet caresses. Draco whined with need when he felt the suction on his skin.
The tenderly nibbling teeth.
"Mine," Yaji growled at him. "Mine." Draco blinked at the insistent demand.
"Mine," came Mantheer's answering statement from across the room. Not in
challenge to Yaji, not really. His voice was even deeper. And no less
possessive in tone, each supporting the other's claim.
The raw, masculine beauty and power of the were-leopards startled Draco anew.
Yaji was not classically handsome, nor was Mantheer, but they were supremely,
aggressively male, confident, strong, exuding passion and drive that meant so
much more to Draco's heart and to his body. They overwhelmed him in a way his
only other male lover, Amrys, had not. None of his women had come close to
generating this much feeling. These men would devour him. Mark him, claim him.
Just that quickly he understood. The hyper-protectiveness, the displays of
ownership. It was in reaction to his, Draco's, not being fully Claimed. He had
not publicly acknowledged who he belonged to. He had known in his heart that he
would, at some time in the future, take these two men as his lovers. Wanted to.
But, he had not done it yet. So, they kept him jealously close. Fended off all
others, any possible suitor.
The two large men did not even like their king too near, too often. Draco
imagined that the reason they tolerated Amrys was not because he was the Sire,
but because Severus was his lover. Snape held Amrys close, not liking it much
when Amrys went to others, snarkily letting him and everyone around them know,
subtly but unmistakeably of his disinclination to share. Severus Snape was
still needed for the children. Yaji and Mantheer guarded his children for their
safety, but they guarded Draco as their beloved, as yet uncommitted. And so,
held very tightly.
Draco had been taken by only one man. The man who had fathered his twins.
Amrys. He was far more comfortable with the physical relationship between male
and female. His attractions and experience had always lay in that direction.
Until now. Until he had felt the bond growing between himself and the two
guardian were-leopards who had meant safety, love and acceptance to him all of
his life.
That love after he had become pregnant had evolved, changed. He had started to
fall in love with them. To look at them differently. To want them to touch him
for different reasons. The thrill that moved though him when they held him had
nothing to do with safety. It was sexual. Draco didn't know how to have a
sexual relationship with a man, let alone two. Sure he had had intercourse with
a man, understood the mechanics, had even enjoyed it to a degree. But a
relationship was far different than just sex. He drew in a shuddering breath.
Amrys had been gentle, careful and Draco had experienced pleasure. Yet when he
let himself imagine laying with Yaji and Mantheer... he shivered in alarmed
delight as the craving tore through his body. It was more than he had felt when
his children were conceived. He wanted this. The calloused hands, the huge
bodies, the flexing of awesome muscle, the sheer power of both to overtake him
and drive him to ecstasy. The men who would command his body, his lovemaking,
his release. And protect him while they loved him. They would never hurt him.
He would not need to worry, or to fear them.
Mantheer glided over the floor towards them, huge and predatory, hungry, his
own face changing, becoming flushed, not able to ignore the rising scent of
arousal that was no doubt filling the air. He lifted his face in the air
sniffing. His fangs dropped, he growled.
"Mine," He repeated, this time Draco knew what to answer back.
"Yours." He confirmed, then turned to look up at Yaji, hands still holding him,
fingers buried in all that long, brown hair, "Yours." He said again. Just to be
clear that he did belong to both.
Draco shivered as Yaji's hands went to the neck of his robes. Anticipating
this, what was going to come, was so good, so good. Yaji sucked one of the
young man's fingers into his heated mouth, causing Draco's eyes to fly wide, he
squirmed at the sensation. It ripped through every cell, all the way to his
pelvis, turning hot and liquid there. Long, slow, drawing at his digits, wet,
lapping around his palm, he dropped one hand to his groin and squeezed himself,
desperately. He was on the verge of coming, of losing control before it had
begun, he groaned, trying to stop it, fighting. Barely staving off the
threatened release.
Mantheer's teeth rasped over his throat compelling Draco to let out an,
"Oohhh." Mantheer smiled at the desired sound. Yaji drew away.
Mantheer straddled the younger man, knees sinking into the pale, tawny furs,
careful to keep his weight off the slender body. Light blue eyes stared up into
his face, as Mantheer folded back the edges of the robe, as he followed the
path of the loosened buttons. The bed dipped as Yaji rolled back towards them,
Yaji looked at the other big man, sharing an intense look. Then both turned
their attention back to Draco.
Draco was a flash of ivory laying on top of the bed between Mantheer's huge,
powerful thighs. He was staring at them with awe on his beautiful face, his
lips parted, breath coming quickly. Mantheer reached out pushing his hand
through the soft, blond hair, long enough now for the ends to to curl in a
froth around the youth's shoulder blades when he stood. Sleek and shining,
color like the hair of his father, the king, and a profusion of curls like his
mother's.
The lush lips begged for attention, not to be forgotten, Yaji leaned down,
depositing a tender kiss on Draco's mouth. A soft brush of sensation, drawing
out a sigh, then growing fractionally deeper, sweeter, a lapping of tongues
together, meeting, tasting each other. In sharp counterpoint, the light
application of teeth and lips to one bared nipple as Mantheer laved it, kissed
it, suckled it into his mouth. Draco cried out, arching into the unexpected
touch, sensation shivering through him.
Hands lifted him, laid him back down on top of Yaji, who cradled him, his body
cushioning the young man he adored. He pushed the hair from Draco's face and
coaxed their faces together, so the kiss could resume, sensually intense, oh,
so sweet. Draco answered the deep rumbling growl with a shocked moan, the sound
of the bigger man surprising him, arousing him. His body felt liquid, heated,
needy, desperate for more.
Mantheer ran his tongue down the back of Draco's thigh, wonderfully wet and
warm, ghosting along the newly tasted skin. He savored the fresh sweat beading
over the youth's pale skin. Let his teeth graze one round buttock, licked it
gently to soothe the sharp bite that had made Draco gasp and shiver.
His thighs were spread, Draco thought he would stop breathing when he felt the
tongue touching him there. Not hesitating, loving him, tasting him so
intimately, slipping into his startled body. Leaving him wetter and wetter, his
body loosening, shivering wanting more and more. He felt the thickness move up
to press between his legs, behind the soft flesh of his scrotum, slipping over
the entrance to his body, meeting Mantheer's tongue.
The tongue drew back bit by bit, relinquishing position to the hard shaft of
Yaji's erection, slicking it with wetness. Draco drew in a breath, quick and
strained, feeling the slow, careful press of that shaft into himself. A short
part of the length, and no farther. A gentle press and relaxation, an easing
forward by minute fractions. And the return of Mantheer's welcome, soothing
tongue.
To where Yaji was entering him, unembarrassedly, Mantheer tasted him where they
were joined...Draco moaned, long, loud, unbelieving. No, nooo, nooo. It was too
much. The hard fingers holding his hips, strong enough to break him, but so
careful as Yaji pressed in, until he struck deep, so deep, and Draco arched his
back, taking in more. Oh god, there couldn't be more. Surrounded by hot male
flesh. Filled with it.
No.
Oh.
Please.
More.
***** Chapter 91 *****
Chapter 91
 
His release washed over him like a tidal wave, catching him before he was
ready. He threw back his head and cried out, shivering with the feeling,
rolling with the waves. Draco's thighs wide-splayed, as Yaji never slowed
rocking deep into him, riding him, prolonging his release, driving him to the
brink and over, all the while holding him with careful hands, not letting him
free, not letting him away from the almost unbearable intensity.
Until Draco heard himself sobbing, reaching out to grasp at Yaji with numbed
limbs, fingers slipping, as he tumbled through the sensation, anchored only by
the touch of skin and shaft of flesh. He shook, body clenching, his pelvis
turning liquid, into heat. His semen splashed out over the flat, corded belly
beneath him, while he shook and shuddered, helpless in two sets of strong arms.
"Draco." The quiet murmur woke him. He sighed in relaxed, perfect contentment.
His sleepy eyes wouldn't open yet, but he snuggled closer, his mouth open,
licking at the chest his cheek was resting against. The flavor was wonderful.
He knew who it was, the taste implanted forever in the sensory memory of his
brain. Mantheer in front of him now, it was at his chest Draco licked, Yaji
behind, a solid, reassuring warmth, gone now from inside the young man's body.
He was happy to be where he was, in between them, cuddled, loved.
He managed another lick. And this time his tongue found a real treasure. A
nipple under his mouth. Flat, soft, not much to rival a woman's more succulent
nipple but he would not have traded this one for any other. Draco sucked on it,
took it into his mouth, suckling with drowsy intention and softness on its
firming peak. Mantheer let out a moan, his urgent need impossible to miss, a
deep groaning. Mantheer's hand came up to cup the back of Draco's head, to hold
him close, support him as he licked and sucked the tiny, erect nub.
Hands ran down his back, following the contours as if glued to them, ending
with palms molded over his buttocks, petting, stroking, the very tips of
curious fingers dancing over the soft pouch of his scrotum, sliding, calming.
Draco sighed happily, and pressed against the huge body in front of him. He
felt Mantheer's hard cock, substantial and full, resting against his stomach,
filled with blood, hot. The tremor of need forced him to raise up and blindly
scoot higher.
Mani understood, tilted up the pointed chin, dropping the softest of kisses on
the pale pink mouth that sought his. He fed at that mouth, with the most
careful passion, nibbling the full lips, down over Draco's chin, and his bare
throat. His attention there, leaving a kiss-bruise, a mark to state his
ownership. Then back up, where he could kiss, draw his tongue over the swollen
mouth, lick, lick, his thumb brushing the wetness, and repeat.
Sinking his teeth, human blunt, into the ripe flesh, never breaking the
fragile, passion swollen skin, but still, hungry for the response, for the
impassioned puffs of breath that he caught in his own mouth. A taste of his
young lover, sweet and fine, to breathe in and swallow down. To lick across his
tender face, nurse at the small Adam's apple, at the hollow of his throat where
his two collarbones met, sweepingly perfect, that hollow, the sweat beading
there, pooling. Waiting to be lapped up, smeared with a fevered kiss.
A light touch feathered across Draco's forehead, rousing him from his languor,
his limbs too heavy to move. Warm, and large, the hovering form above him, he
felt wonderfully comfortable. Resting against a smooth, muscle packed chest.
Surrounded, embraced. Draco felt the smile growing on his face involuntarily.
He squirmed closer to the warmth, raised kiss puffed lips and small aches
erupted over his whole body. Aches that remind him exactly what he was doing,
what he had done and pierced him with the desire to do it again.
And then he remembered, his body recalled, a visceral memory, like being there
again, in full coupling. Spread wide, open, filled full, being taken to the
peak. Oh. Yes. Yaji had been inside of his body, thick and long and so damn
perfect. That part of him, that most intimate part, Draco had let the slickened
shaft pierce into him. Driving him crazy with overwhelming sensations. Making
him scream, good screams, begging, rewarded with an orgasm he would remember
all of his life. So intense he lost consciousness. And woke to this different
bliss.
Mantheer stroked him gently, Yaji curled up behind him, his body sheltering and
supporting, sticky just a bit, way down there, but Draco didn't mind, even if
it brought a blush to his cheeks. In fact the idea, what it reminded him they
were doing, not long ago....that sent renewed shivers throughout, top to
bottom, toes to nose. And the kisses, oh, they went on, Mantheer not letting
them stop, not letting Draco's mouth cool, rather keeping up the relentless,
pleasuring assault, this time with his tongue, giving tiny licks, then delving
into the youth's mouth to tangle inside.
Yaji whispered his name again, the words ruffled in his hair. Draco turned
toward the large man and lifted his arm to wind it around Yaji's neck. Yaji
lowered his head. And Draco got the second man's kiss, he wanted, craved.
Placed on his mouth, hungry still, hot with the kisses from before. He slipped
his tongue out enough to touch the curve of Yaji's lower lip. His hand groped
out, found Mantheer's hip, dug into the impressive muscle, sculpted, smooth, oh
so tempting. Tried to drag him closer. He thought of that power, guiding Mani's
heat into his center, and he cried out, nearly erupting, from nothing more than
imagining.
"You are, were...uh, Yaji....ji...." Draco finally managed to almost say, not
fully coherent. He felt the beginning of a blush rise, then he had better
things to think of, as Mantheer grabbed his chin, brought him back to the
kissing. Feeding of mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue.
He had been afraid for one tiny instant, when he realized how well endowed Yaji
was. He thought he would tear, or be hurt, but he had not felt pain, he had
felt fantastic, thrilling with sensations that while fairly new to him, were
very, very pleasant. And he wanted it, more, wanted Mantheer this time, with an
urgency he could not defeat. Just like Yaji, his soul cried, 'bury yourself in
me, just like he did. Be mine own. Claim me and thus let me claim you'.
The ghost of that feeling rippled along his nerves, and he let out a moan. Yaji
smiled against his neck, the young man's neck, bent forward, nape waiting for
the teeth, the were-leopard, raked across the vulnerable flesh. Draco's skin
tightened his eyes rolled back, he moaned, his skin shrinking tight, a web of
need, of demanding.
Draco turned to face Mantheer, eyes half shut, he tangled his fingers in the
dark hair. "You. I want you, too. Please?" He whispered his plea into the man's
ear, then he bit the lobe, sucking it into his mouth, teasing, worrying at it.
He wanted to have them both, today, the first day as physical lovers, he wanted
the seed of the one to join that seed that already slicked him. Something drove
him to have them like this. He couldn't rest easy, it didn't feel right, having
only one of them fully as his lover. Mantheer cupped his palm along the back of
Draco's skull.
"Are you not tender? I will not hurt you, not even for this. Not even wanting
you as much as I do." His dark eyes were serious, concerned, even lit with
lust, they were eyes that loved him first and foremost. Draco mewled as he
burrowed into Mantheer' shoulder, up to rest his lips against the wild pulse in
the guardian's neck.
"I need you. I need you. Please." He said, a soft, frantic sigh over heated
skin. Mantheer, drew in a harsh breath, let it out, prayed to Merlin for
control. He could not deny the boy, not listening to the pleading, to the raw
want echoing in the tenor voice. Draco would never want in vain, not when it
was within his power, or Yaji's, to give him what he so craved.
"Slowly." Yaji was the voice of reason, Draco gave up his control to the man he
trusted and Mantheer to the man who had been his partner since young childhood.
Yaji would keep them safe, Yaji would take them to the pinnacle. Mantheer let
his desire free. There was no force. He reached out parted Draco's willing
thighs, touched him there, still wet, his finger slipping in, slow and careful,
all the way, without the resistance he feared, that would have warned him of
pain.
Draco would not ever feel pain from him, not when they lay together, not when
they came together in love. Mantheer was deliberate, patient, he slid a second
finger inside, feeling the smoothness give to his gentle probing, relax when he
took his time, shocked anew at the lush flesh gripping his digits. He wanted to
sink inside this velvet sheath. To fill Draco to the fullest, to slide in and
out of him, to hear the gasps of pleasure against his body as they rode each
other.
Mantheer placed the flared head of his penis where he most wanted to be, his
hands steady, certain, as he held Draco's hips. He looked down into the flushed
face of his love, the cherished Mother, and found the courage to press inside.
Draco mewled, then sighed, the beginning of what he had to have, it shook him
to his core, to know that the slow entrance wouldn't stop until he had what he
wanted. He felt overwhelmed, he felt shattered, unbidden, tears gathered in his
eyes, ran down his cheeks. And he sobbed. Mantheer raised his head, and Yaji
moved closer. Draco sobbed again. "Give...," faint, less than a sound.
"Draco...?" Yaji whispered. Draco rocked his head back and forth, moaning. It
wasn't pain, it was something more intense, beyond words. He clutched at the
guardian who was over him, who was in him, who had, thank all the ghods, not
stopped. If he stopped, Draco couldn't bear it, the emptiness within him had to
be filled. "Please..." ghosted out of him. And Yaji's tension relaxed, melted
away.
"Yes, we will give you what you need." He rolled Mantheer over onto his back,
lifted the slim youth over the man and guided them together. Draco's head
falling back, his neck arched until Yaji offered the support of his broad chest
as he straddled Mantheer, just behind Draco. Biceps flexing he held the youth,
and slowly, slowly lowered him onto the thick rigid, flesh, that spread the
tiny opening, which surrendered, accepting, flowering, a tiny ring of heat,
impossibly wanton in honest hunger. Honest desire. And inevitably, the slender
body gave way, and Mantheer sank deep.
He had no breath, beyond that, only madness, only joy, only pleasure knowing he
had what was his. He was boneless, held upright by the arms around his waist
and torso, by the shaft spearing him with the most intense pleasure. His own
arousal bobbed in front of him, not needing touch, teetering on the brink
without it. Gods, how could he not have known it would be like this? How could
he had been satisfied and but for a quirk of fate, he would not have known what
he was missing? Never had this. Never realized.
He would never give this up. This alone was reason enough to live, this was the
breath to live, the fire to burn, the water to run like the elixir of life down
his parched throat. He had not even comprehended his thirst. Not until now.
Mantheer, thick, velvet over steel, in and out of him. Draco, felt the building
glow lighting his pelvis. Heard the breath catch in his throat, echoing in
Mani's chest, he fell back, hips working, taking in all he could, legs
trembling. Their fingers twined together, as they moved, flesh sliding into
flesh, Yaji's palms covering Draco's buttocks, lifting, lowering.
They came in almost the same moment, Draco letting out a wail, sweet and rich
with the release. He sobbed again, crying out, and Yaji folded around him,
became part of them.
"Hush, we are already yours. We have always been." Mantheer pressed his lips to
Draco's wrist. Yaji's mouth warm on his damp brow.
"Yes. You..... I need for you to be. I need it, Mani, Yaj.... I need..." Sweat
and tears streamed down his face, Yaji's mouth licking them away.
"We will always give you what you need." Mantheer reassured the exhausted young
man. "We will never do less."
***** Chapter 92 *****
Chapter 92
 
Harry, Amrys and Severus strode down the corridor. Harry was intent on finally
seeing the babies, being able to touch and hold them, maybe, if he was brave
enough, not just seeing them from across a room. Professor Snape had suggested
it was time for him to try again. Draco missed him, had mentioned how nice it
would be to see his friend and have time to talk to him.
Harry, for his part, was very excited. If anyone had suggested last year that
he would actually miss Draco Malfoy if he couldn't see and talk with him....he
would have laughed in their faces. Instead, he was grinning, walking faster,
thinking about it, thinking about how drastically his life had changed. He
wondered what Hermione would think of him now, of this unsual friendship...
Wow, he hadn't thought of her....in a long time. He stole a look at the two men
walking next to him.
It was not only his life that had radically altered. Who on Earth could have
imagined that the cold, stern, inflexible, terrifying Professor of Potions and
DADA, Severus Snape, could have unbent to this degree. His preferred, severely
tailored robes had given way to the pride's robes when he visited, robes that
floated around his spare body...and pure black had given way to black with a
splash of color, a vibrant, crimson red. A red that made his skin milk pale,
utterly striking.
Harry didn't miss the almost hidden caresses the two man exchanged as they
picked their way down the wide corridors. How their fingers tangled together
with every chance touch, though Severus was not ready to be overt enough to
allow them to remain clasped, at least not in front of one of his students,
they were holding hands for several seconds each minute. Harry glanced aside to
hide his smile.
Snape looked younger, he looked, well, not precisely happy, he was not
grinning, or beaming with joy, but he was more prone to smiles and less prone
to snapping and snarling. Harry thought there never had been a human who would
be better suited to be a were-leopard than his Potion's Professor. Elegant,
standoffish, regal in his own way, the man reminded him of Lucius, and Amrys,
and Graeme. The pride's ruling three, they all shared that inherent dignity and
poise. Especially since Snape was now less vindictive and harsh. Now that he
exuded an unmistakable sensuality.
Nobody could miss the way these two felt about each other, they smelled of each
other and often they smelled of arousal when they were near one another. Harry
hid the rising blush when he thought of them together. Amrys had not strayed
since Snape had been staying at the Manor. He remained, of course, in the
king's bed each night, but, during the daylight hours, he was nearly always at
the dark haired, pale skinned wizard's side. Harry was pretty sure Amrys
concentrated all of his desire, all of his sexual attention, on only one person
now. Severus.
Harry snuck a look. Yep, definitely holding hands again, even if it was just
fingers curled around fingers, tucked close to Severus' side, out of
sight...well, mostly. Harry did have very good eyes now, since being bitten,
when it came to things like this, up close. He fought not to giggle his glee.
If he irked the Professor, he might not have his support when it came to trying
to wheedle the fearsome guardians, Mantheer and Yaji, into letting him into
Draco's room, and near the twins.
Amrys, one of the lucky few who was allowed into the vicinity of the babies,
had regaled Harry with tales of their rapid growth and beauty. Normally, Harry
didn't much like babies. They were small and easily hurt, which made him
nervous. And noisy. A bit smelly. Oh, and they were red, fat, and fussy, and
not so cute, no matter what people said about them. But something was different
about Draco and Amrys' children. Harry, from the tiny glimpses he had, thought
they were beautiful. Really. He wasn't just thinking it because Draco was his
best friend.
Amrys slowed in the hall as the trio neared their destination. At first Harry
didn't notice. Snape, always on the look out for changes, did notice when his
lover raised his head fractionally and sniffed at the air, his step faltering.
The puzzled look on Amrys' handsome face made Severus slow and his hand went
out to stop Harry.
By then, Harry had lifted his own nose to chase down and evaluate the elusive,
very enticing scent that was tickling at his awareness. Oh...what was that...so
delicious, he sniffed again, his chin raised, eyes alert, wide open. He let out
a whimper. Snape kept his hand tight around Harry's arm, aware that the boy was
not paying much attention to his surroundings. Not that there was anything here
that alarmed Snape, but it never hurt to remain cautious. Prepared. He turned
his gaze to Amrys for a moment.
The amber eyes were at half mast, his mouth a bit open and he was chuffing air
through his mouth and nose. As Severus watched, he saw the shiver, saw the
gooseflesh ripple over the golden, tan skin. Amrys looked suspiciously
familiar, aroused, heated. Snape glanced further south, and his assessment was
confirmed. Superb. But inconvenitent. Amrys was erect, emphatically so, the
large organ in question straining the bounds of his flowing, blue silk
trousers. Snape felt his own body react, instinctively, his need rising in mere
seconds to leak out of his every pore.
Amrys response was to growl low and needy, and turn toward the other man.
Severus almost let go of Harry's arm, only at the last instant recalling why he
was holding the slender arm in one firm fist.
Harry, for his part had figured out what was riding the air currents, but not
what to do about it. He smelled Draco, he smelled Yaji, and Mantheer. And over
all, he smelled sex, arousal, semen, he smelled lust consummated. His body
responded, and he didn't think too much after that. The healthy wariness he
held when it came to the guardians chose the direction he turned when he sought
to react to the odors. He turned towards his companions in the hall.
One moment Harry was standing next to Snape, the next he was plastered to him
and his hands were grasping, reaching out, touching, gentle, but demanding
touches, caresses. Quiet moans began as he pressed close, needy, reaching up to
try and pull the startled face of his professor down, and exchange a heated
kiss with him.
Severus, the least affected of the three, was not about to allow that to
happen. Harry was his student, his charge in a way, even now. Severus Snape was
not going to violate that trust because of rampant pheromones. He pried the
boy's hands from their quest to more intimate locales and held him away, or
tried to. Merlin, when had the boy become this strong and so sneaky?! He was so
small, slender....then Snape smiled grimly. Of course, the young man was a
lycanthrope! Of course he was strong. Snape was losing the battle to keep their
bodies decently apart.
Until Harry brushed against Amrys. And redirected all of that innocently
blatant desire at the were-leopard instead of his professor. Harry wound
himself around Amrys, raising his face to the older lycanthrope's, making tiny
begging sounds. And the pride's second responded, bending his head and taking
the sweet, lush mouth with a fiery kiss. Harry's mewl of need even made Snape's
hair stand on end.
But, desire or not, this was *not* happening. Not here, not now, not in front
of Severus Snape, no matter that he knew that lycanthropes were prone to
respond to these kind of stimuli, not even with Amrys' hand now reaching for
him to pull him into this three way embrace. It flattered his ego to no end
that with an armful of the lovely youth, Amrys still reached out to him, but
even so, Snape was not having sex with Harry Potter, and neither was Amrys. And
most absolutely, especially not in this hall, in full public view. He was half
mesmerized by the sheer erotic pull of the beautiful Amrys and Potter so
entwined, but he managed to drag himself away from the visual paradise and
firmly pulled the boy from the arms of the second. Harry moaned in
disappointment.
Snape shook him gently, blocking Amrys with his own body, feeling the were-
leopard wrap long, muscular arms around him, and insinuate his hands under the
robes Severus was loosely attired in. It was an immediately diverting
sensation, but Snape fought to maintain his focus. It was mandatory. Or they
would all tumble to the floor and couple here. And that could not be permitted.
Harry was the lover of the king, Amrys was Snape's, pride dynamics be damned.
Snape was not about to share.
Severus heaved them apart again with all his strength and raised his voice to
his most commanding. "Absolutely not." He growled, "most *certainly*, NOT!"
It was Harry, trained for seven years to obey that voice, who fell back, shook
his head and let out a noise of great, aching disappointment. Severus could not
but react, his body rising to the occasion, but he firmly supressed his
desires. He elbowed Amrys sharply.
"Where is Lucius? We must locate him at once." And even the second of the pride
responded to the command in that tone, turning back away from the rooms that
had been their destination, and taking off down the hall at a run. Severus
blinked, his arms now full of squirming student. Damn the man! He hefted Harry
higher into his arms and followed at a more human pace. It was his fault, he
supposed, for not being more precise in his instructions.
***** Chapter 93 *****
Chapter 93
 
The silk shirt slid off the youth's skin like water running over smooth river
stones. Breathtaking. The young muscles were perfect, his nearly hairless body
the ideal of adolescent beauty, in the peeping man's opinion.
Dumbledore drew in a muffled breath, filled with appreciation, as he watched
the young man undress. He was exquisite. A true shame there were other things
that demanded his own attention. This boy would be worthy of any man's time.
Some of the others were equally tempting. Such lovely blond curls and such an
elfin face. Yes, he could certainly wet a man's appetite.
Sighing in frustrated lust, Dumbledore turned from the window, lowering his
spying-lens and went back to his desk. It was just plain bad luck that the
Quidditch season was nearing, the young athletes beginning to train, he was too
busy to enjoy it. He usually set aside a significant portion of the proper time
of day to spend at his window with the magical lens pressed to his eye. It made
it possible for him to watch them as if he were in the team rooms with them. If
the wizarding society were a little less conservative, he would not have to be
nearly this discreet.
But, that was not to be. He had been careful, his entire career, he'd
maneuvered and arranged, keeping everything under wraps, letting no one, even
those closest to him, know where his desires lay. He had finally achieved his
goal of teaching at Hogwarts. A spell or two in the right places and no one
suspected, still, how he liked his pleasures. Just a pleasant dream in a
student's mind and Dumbledore was satisfied. He didn't need to have it often,
he understood the risks too well to get greedy.
He forced himself to be content with the little things. A careful touch while a
youngster slept, never enough to wake them. A pat on one of the broad shoulders
of a young athlete, Oliver Wood had been the best for that. Very suggestible.
And Dumbledore had watched him writhe with passion standing in the shadows more
than a dozen times. He had felt a great loss when Wood had left the school.
But now, he had other problems than missing Wood or any of the other unwitting
young men and women who had fulfilled his fantasies and taken care of his urges
over the many years he'd been a teacher, then Headmaster, at Hogwarts. Now he
had to find a solution to the one problem he had not yet been able to fix.
Before it tumbled his house of cards.
The were-creatures had not notified him of their intent to return their
children to Hogwarts. That was disturbing. He had thought that giving them time
to stew, to contemplate the loss of magical education, would prompt them to
admit his proposal had merit. But, it had not happened.
That damned leopard-man, Malfoy's second in command, Amrys, had rallied the
groups and they now stood firm in their resolve. Unless Dumbledore spoke out
and acquitted them all of wrong-doing and any complicity in the attacks, they
would not return. He ground his teeth as he thought about the outrage.
To make matters worse, Severus had remained at the Manor. He had not said if he
was preparing for the new school year. Or if he had thoughts of resignation.
Everything was in a shambles. If Snape stayed and lent his support to the
animals, they would win.
Dumbledore was a powerful wizard, though not so powerful as Severus. He had
merely manged to hype his skills to the point that people thought he was the
best. Wanted him to teach their children. He wasn't weak by any means, but
there were several others who were head and shoulders above him. One was
professor Severus Snape. Snape kept the Hogwarts' wards intact, a task
delegated to him by the clever Headmaster.
There was simply no news that was good. Even his spying-lens, the one he had
left at the Manor, had not revealed any secrets worth using to apply pressure
and get what he needed.
The spying-lens had provided some enjoyable moments, very sexy beasts those
were-leopards, and they had a certain animal beauty in how they coupled, raw
and savage. He had spent an evening watching a pair he did not recognize as
they rolled in the furs together with a great deal of enthusiasm.
It was the fault of society that he, Dumbledore, had not the same freedom to
take his own pleasures where he desired. It was patently unfair that he would
be ostracized if he gave in and took one of his students to his bed openly. No.
He had to hide it. He could never reveal his needs. The were-leopard might have
guessed, he had said something that made Dumbledore suspicious, but it had gone
no further than that. And there were no lycanthrope children around for him to
worry about.
A pity the teen couple he had seen had been so mature. But the pride appeared
to jealously guard their young. A disappointment for sure. A diversion would be
as pleasant as it was becoming necessary. It was their fault he could not risk
an encounter, not even a dreaming encounter, with the type of lover he most
desired. But, even the hint of a new scandal was potentially enough to end his
career and force him into retirement.
The stress was weighing on him. He began composing the speech he would have to
give to exonerate the damned were-creatures. He also would have to find a way
of intimating someone else held blame, with out being too overt. It would not
do to seem vindictive. The parents had to believe he was sad, and
compassionate, that the threat had abated, and he was the reason all was safe
now. But he had to present it in away that did not offend the lycanthropes. He
ground his teeth. Far better that he said nothing and let the rumors take care
of everything. But that was impossible.
The speech would be ready soon. He would send it out in a crystal to the
prospective parents and to key persons in the wizarding society. He hated
losing this battle. But, it would be far worse to lose his position due to low
enrollments. Damn the animals anyway. They should have cooperated. If he failed
to retain them, Hogwarts would lose ten percent of its enrollment or more, from
paranoid families who would look elsewhere for schooling. An unbearable
financial loss.
Of course there might have been a chance he could arrange for similar
"accidents" to take place at the rival schools. Now he had a sinking feeling
the lycanthrope, Amrys, would not tolerate such a thing without speaking out,
breaking the traditional separation the lycanthropes maintained from the rest
of society. A tradition he, Dumbledore had relied on too heavily. He never
intended to make the same mistake again. The beast-man had seemed appallingly
"noble" and interfering. His threats had to be taken seriously.
That decided, Dumbledore relaxed a fraction. He was a practical man. He was
also patient. He knew he was able to weather this storm. He would suppress his
needs for a time, just to be sure there were no consequences lurking. He'd take
his pleasures from a distance. It was necessary, he could tolerate that for the
sake of his job. In fact it was time to think about the full risks he was
taking. His will was strong. He could give up the touching of beautiful young
flesh. At least for a while.
A man should not be kept too long from his pleasures, even woefully limited as
they now were. Dumbledore raised the spying-lens to his eyes and spoke the
spell under his breath. The wall to the changing rooms for the Quidditch teams
wavered in the view the lens offered, then suddenly he could see through it as
if the wall was not even there. Ahhh. That was more like it. He eagerly watched
the young bodies revealed to his eyes. Delicious.
***** Chapter 94 *****
Chapter 94
 
Severus Snape noticed that Lucius Malfoy, the were-leopard king, was not alone
when he entered the room in the wake of Amrys. Harry was held tight to the
professor's chest in an attempt to restrict the movements of his wandering
hands and softly sweet lips. Snape's face by now was fiercely red. And his
pants, loose though they were, felt far too binding.
A very relaxed, partially clad Fred Weasley was laying on his back, head
resting next to the thigh of his king, as Amrys updated Lucius in fits and
starts, his brow furrowed in an attempt to concentrate, while the elder Malfoy
absently stroked the youngling's tousled ginger hair. Bright blue eyes cracked
open when the commotion of their multiple entrances sounded, but otherwise the
youth did not stir, obviously far too comfortable in the presence of his king,
and being petted, to want to move.
Amrys stopped his discourse in mid-sentence, and swung around to face Snape,
once he saw the other man, he could not complete his tale, all he wanted was a
chance to bury himself inside the wizard. He bared his fangs as Severus
approached.
Severus however was in no mood to be sensitive to the youngling's comfortable
position, he was too set on getting Harry to Lucius to avoid Amrys. Without
pause, he stomped over to the three were-leopards, thrusting the wriggling mass
of limbs he held directly at Lucius Malfoy. Who caught his Chosen by pure
reflex. Harry cried out. Fred sat up with an exclamation, quickly helping to
support Harry, his attention briefly on his former teacher, then wholly on
Harry, as the kitten thrashed.
There. Now Potter's roving hands were someone else's concern, Snape thought
with desperate satisfaction. As adorable and innocent as those green eyes
appeared, he certainly had no hesitation in seeking solace when...stimulated.
Passionately. And with obvious familiarity to the landscape. Potter was no
longer the shy boy he remembered. Right now he was aroused to the point of
sheer agony, if Snape was any judge. Much as he himself felt. It had all
started in the hall, with the scent of sex....but his instincts were telling
him there was more to it than just that.
Snape supposed he should feel flattered that Harry trusted him enough to reach
out when he needed care. Yet, somehow, all he felt was panic. Panic that his
body had indeed responded to the mewling reaction of the kitten. Panic that he
would not reach Lucius before the beautiful youth overcame even his great will
and firm moral stand. Panic that he would throw Potter to the floor and ravage
him. Willing. Or unwilling. Though the argument could be made that he was
obviously very willing. He had never seen Potter in this particular state of
frenzy. It was over the top. It worried him. His own lack of control worried
him. Something was not right.
Amrys was next to Lucius, his hooded eyes were fixed on Snape's. He took a step
forward, his head up, scenting. Then another step. Snape's focus narrowed down
and he saw the intent in the other man's gaze. Merlin, not again, he thought. I
have to think, to figure out why this feels wrong. And....Not in front of all
the other men in the room.
Please not like this. I want privacy, to have you to myself. To be able to
forget everything, to lay beneath you and accept your body deep inside my
own... Snape blanched. Damn it. Where was his control? He circled to place the
table between them. The door, the only possibility of escape, was now behind
him, and he didn't dare turn his back, Amrys was fast, too fast.
Harry, once he came in contact with Lucius' body, was single minded in his aim.
He climbed up the tall body and wrapped himself around Lucius. Lucius held him,
surprised by the urgency, the tremors, the rampant need that was easy to sense.
His hands were gentle, and reassuring. But, clearly that was not what Harry
wanted.
He smoothed a hand over Harry's head and was rewarded with a moan. He kissed
the flushed cheek. Harry turned his head and surrendered his mouth to the
man's. It was long and urgent and deep, Harry tilting his head back, resting
against Lucius' shoulder as they kissed. A low moan continued to echo up from
his chest. He trembled and shook, hands grasping at the curves of the big
biceps, smoothing palms over the broad chest, trying to melt into the body of
the one holding him. His other hand wrapped itself in Lucius long hair, and
tugged.
Fred and Lucius exchanged a look. Fred moved to offer his body as support so
Lucius could shift his grip, turn Harry's face so he might look into the young
man's troubled green eyes. See what the problem was.
"What is it?" The king murmured to his Chosen. Harry whimpered. And the blond
man felt his skin prickle.
"It burns." Harry complained. He squirmed seeking relief. Rubbing his erection
along Lucius' side.
"Burns?" Lucius asked in alarm. "What are you speaking of?"
"I need you! I must have you!" Harry begged him, clawing at Lucius' robes,
tearing them open.
His body responded to the need in his Chosen. Lucius would give him whatever he
required, willingly. But he knew that something more was wrong. Harry let out a
moan and rubbed against the taut belly he had exposed, he fumbled frantically
for Lucius' erection. Lucius, legitimately concerned for his own body with
Harry so out of control as this, blocked the clawing hand.
"Please!" Harry moaned, and the tone, unnatural, terrified, so unlike the
youth, worried the king. Harry writhed and moved, in desperate need. Lucius was
floored to feel the release of his fluid as Harry orgasmed, with no more
stimulation than a few moments of frottage. But the release did nothing to stop
or slow the agitated motion.
"Please?!" Harry asked again, his face dappled with beads of sweat, eyes
brimming with tears of frustration. "It is burning. Make it stop."
"I will slake your thirst, beloved." Lucius murmured, to reassure the small
young man he cradled. Then we will discover what has caused this, he thought
silently to himself.
He looked up, intending to speak with Amrys, but he saw that the second was
trying to corner the human wizard. They were lovers, but, Amrys was not
behaving in the usual manner he directed at the man. He was stalking. Lucius
frowned. So, if he was correct, then Amrys was also a victim of whatever had
affected Harry.
"Fred. I need your help." He said to the youth, who was plastered up behind
Harry, trying to calm him. Fred nodded and began to move a hand down Harry's
belly, thinking Lucius wanted him to help Harry in that way. But the king shook
his head, stopping the progress of the youngling's hand.
"No, not that, youngling, you will not touch him, I will see to this need
myself." Lucius said as Fred reached out to help. Harry, though he had spent,
was still writhing and begging for relief. "There is something not right here.
I would not have you also affected. Only I will touch him. Go, find Graeme,
bring him here. Do not touch Amrys, either, do you hear me?"
"Yes." Fred said. "I will find Graeme, I will not let Amrys touch me."
"Good. Now go." Lucius dropped a kiss on the red hair of his youngling. Then he
turned back to Harry, holding him closely.
"Severus," he called. "Are you rational?" He inquired as Fred sprinted out the
doorway.
"I believe that I am, but I do not know for how long." Was the reply he
received. "My reason is not unchallenged at this moment."
"This desire is not natural." Lucius said to the other man. "Can you do
anything against it?"
"I am distracted at the moment." Severus Snape reminded the other man dryly.
"Graeme will be here soon. I would assist you myself , but I do not want to let
go of Harry." Lucius explained. "Graeme will take care of Amrys. Then, I wish
for you to discover what is causing this. My Chosen is not well."
"It will be my pleasure to find out what the hell is going on." Snape ground
out, shifting again to keep from permitting Amrys to capture him. Every cell in
his body screamed at him to surrender. To take the ecstasy that Amrys always
delivered. But, then, he reasoned, it would not be right to take the man, to
have sex with him, if there was magic forcing him. No matter how much he wanted
to. No matter how much he burned to.
Severus was not happy about how events were progressing. He was being stalked.
Amrys was still coming. While he did not fear the man, and would normally
welcome his touch, now was not the time for it. Not while he was sure there was
unnatural forces at work. He felt driven. He felt aroused. But it was
unwilling, and it was painful. As if some one or some thing was trying to bend
his will to the act. Trying to compel him to have sex, wanton, lustful,
uncaring sex. Nothing like the feeling Amrys usually aroused in him. This was
mindless, ravenous, devouring.
 
Dumbledore, watching through his planted spy-glass allowed himself a grim
smile. Unfortunately his spell meant to send them into an uncontrolled orgy of
violent sex seemed not to be very effective. He sensed the spell was in place,
but damn the luck that had let it happen when Severus was with the lycanthrope
Amrys. If he had caught the beast without the other wizard, then Harry would
have borne the brunt of the man's rapacious need. Harry would have been
assaulted, raped on the stone floor, with witnesses all around, and then surely
the proud Lucius would have cast his second out of the pride. And that would
have served Dumbledore well indeed. A fitting revenge. But it had not happened
like that.
From what he had seen, Potter at least was mad with need, and Amrys, the man
who had caused all of the woes he was now enduring, he had seemed affected,
just as he'd hoped, chasing around after Snape as he had. But not to the degree
he'd hoped to see, as the spy-glass floated invisibly throughout he Manor. And
Snape apparently attracted the pride's Des far more than the Potter boy. An
idea that Dumbledore found almost incomprehensible. There was no accounting for
bad taste.
Still, if Snape was raped, then all was not lost. He would turn against the
animals he had been aiding. Perhaps it would disrupt the will of the leopards,
shake them, and distract them enough for him to get some small concessions from
them. The threat of sending the crystals of the assault out to the rest of the
wizarding world might be enough. At least he hoped so. It was not what he would
have wished to settle for. It was much less. He ground his teeth in impotent
fury. Could nothing go according to plan?
***** Chapter 95 *****
Chapter 95
 
Graeme entered the room cautiously Kaithas right behind him and even more
cautious. Responding to physical confrontation when one of the potential
combatants was the pride's powerful and intimidating second....well Kaithas did
not wish to be in the way of an errant claw.
Graeme the primary enforcer of the king's punishment and chastisement for the
pride, had no such compunction. He entered with authority, wary and watchful as
was prudent, but not afraid. He was cautious simply not to give away any
advantage.
What he saw gave him pause. What he smelled, made him stop in his tracks. A
sound behind him diverted his attention. Ron, who he had been with when Fred
appeared, was with the young red head, in the room doorway, peering in
curiously and with concern.
"Stay back." Graeme growled, putting a threat in his tone. No way he wanted to
risk adding Ron to this volatile mix. The kitten still smelled of unrelieved
desire, they had been interrupted before Graeme had finished taking care of
that.
Amrys didn't even bother to do more than snarl at his lifelong friend as he
continued to stalk Severus, who was looking conflicted. Graeme could scent the
human's arousal and the odors of guilt and agitation. But outwardly the wizard
appeared remarkably calm. Inwardly Graeme guessed that Severus was battling the
urge to give in and have wild, passionate, crazy sex. But something was wrong.
Graeme sniffed, again.
Lucius called over to him. "Graeme. I need for you to divert and control Amrys.
Severus and I need to consult to discover how to deal with this problem.
Kaithas, I am glad to have you here. Are you unaffected?"
"I believe that I am unaffected, my king." Was the answer from the seer. "I can
sense the problem very clearly, but it does not seem directed at myself."
"Very good." Lucius said, his tone flat, with little expression. His hold on
the Chosen was careful and tender, but offered no ease or comfort to the
groaning youth. Harry let out a pitiful cry and the king cradled his sweating
face in one hand.
It was then that Graeme saw that Harry was in no better condition than Amrys.
Writhing and desperate, he exuded an unimaginably sexy mix of scents, that
immediately had Graeme fully aroused. He took an involuntary step towards the
youth, who was held securely in Lucius' embrace, before he caught himself and
stopped, jaw clenched. Kaithas had put a hand on his arm and Graeme had been
entirely unaware of the touch. He battled to regain his composure. Kaithas did
not remove his hand. And Graeme knew why. He was trying to lend his own
equilibrium to Graeme's, to strengthen him. Graeme nodded his thanks, then
gently shook off the hand.
Amrys' chuffed at the air with the new scent. He growled, spinning around to
face the approaching male challenger. He had to fight to maintain his rights to
the luscious prize he had been stalking. He had to win in order to have the
time to hold that one under him, and ride him to completion, to claim him as
his own. He snarled, fangs sliding out, long and sharp. Graeme circled, relaxed
and prepared, assessing the advantages and disadvantages he was becoming aware
of.
Snape inched away, moving towards Lucius when Amrys turned his back. He had
been thinking on his feet, as much as one could while driven mad by unrelieved
lust and the fear of giving in to it, or being caught and ravaged. He didn't
much like the conclusions he'd come to.
Someone fairly powerful had cast a spell. The target of choice had been either
Amrys or Harry. He didn't know for sure which, or who had one it. He had one
very strong suspicion. He had worked for years with the grandfatherly
Dumbledore. Long enough to sense there were darker, hidden depths to the man.
Depths he had chosen not to investigate. Perhaps that choice had been the wrong
one. In light of this happening now, it appeared he should have taken pains to
find out just what had seemed wrong before. His failure to do so, had allowed
this situation to escalate. Of course, He might be wrong, himself, maybe this
was caused by some one else, it just seemed unlikely, not impossible.
But, if this was the Headmaster's doing...then the old man was slipping, had
miscalculated badly and was becoming too desperate, too obvious. This could not
be explained away by whoever had started it. It would not lend itself to
forgiveness, and a slap on the back as a forgettable blunder. This was an
attack. There was no way to call it an accident. It was malicious.
Intentionally harmful.
Whoever had started this knew too little about lycanthrope culture to be one of
them. Lucius would not forgive this act. He would not turn away, he would
regard it as a direct challenge to himself, a threat to his people, and react
accordingly. The Chosen was not a target that any wise lycanthrope or well
informed wizard would chose. Better the king himself. The Chosen was cherished,
protected, elevated on a pedestal. The Chosen was the beloved, the gift of
kings. There were very formal, ritualized ways the lycanthropes permitted
disagreements to be settled when the Chosen was involved. Attacks on him,
well..... Some idiot had crossed the line today. And the response might prove
fatal when the wizard, or witch, was found out.
Severus had managed to return to Lucius' side, moving with slow deliberation.
Amrys and Graeme were still circling each other, Kaithas nearby. Nervous but
steadfast, eyes glued to the other two. He would not be much help if there was
trouble, but he would try.
The doorway darkened again and Severus looked up to see a were-leopard he did
not know, huge, at least the size of Mantheer and Yaji. A guardian, he
diagnosed, one of the watchers, the were-leopard entered, eyes on his king
after his alert sweep of the room. He was aware of the potential fight, a sense
of relaxed readiness pervaded his stance. A man used to physical violence, and
confrontation.
Lucius leaned forward. "You will not allow them to kill each other. I want
Amrys subdued, but gently, he is not at fault in this." He told the dark man.
Kaithas fell back a bit, relieved. The man, Jonas, was good, skilled and very
strong. While Yaji was Mantheer's first choice of back up, Jonas was a close
second. He was also not an alpha, nor an alpha contender. He would obey. Not
even the scent of sex, or the spell, would divert him from obeying his king's
word and order. Lucius' will superseded his own.
As Jonas maneuvered himself into place, Graeme leapt. He flew through the air,
lightning quick, fluid muscles reaching, wrapping and containing his friend and
fellow ruler of the pride. Amrys growled in abject fury, lashing out, claws
whistling through the air at the tips of widely splayed fingers.
There had been no warning, he was suddenly in the there, he was on top of
Amrys. Arms locking around him, Jonas moved in, even faster, from further away,
he was there in the same moment. Amrys almost manged to thrust the Tres from
him, but, Graeme refused to loosen his hold, or to be budged. And then Jonas'
unbreakable grip was around the blond leopard, holding firm, but not harming
him. Amrys snarled, wordlessly, enraged at the restriction, his eyes rolling
madly.
His gaze frantically searched for Severus and found him, fastening onto the
human with laser-like precision, his face becoming a mask of want. Severus was
very careful not to touch Lucius in any way, or to move too close and give the
impression he was choosing the king over the second. He sensed that would be
enough to drive Amrys into a frenzy, and agitate the captured second into a
more dangerous state. Amrys was nearly foaming at the mouth as it was.
Severus kept his voice low and soothing, he tried to convey his most calming
thoughts. He told Lucius of his darkest fear with his answer to the king's
unspoken question...what now? How could this be fixed? The fear and jealousy
caught him by surprise. It was a weakness. One he had not anticipated having.
He, the one who unemotionally had expressed the need to accept the way and
culture of the lycanthropes, was having trouble accepting what he believed was
going to be required in order to affect a cure. He felt foolish for his mind's
vehement objections. He was not feeling enlightened at the moment. He was
feeling possessive.
"Lucius. I am afraid I can think of only one thing to do. Spells of this nature
will typically run their course when the subject partakes of the intended
activity." The wizard said, voice mild. His heart twisted as the words left
him.
"You mean he should be allowed to win free? And have sex?" Lucius asked, his
own displeasure transmitted equally clearly. Harry let out a cry of pure pain,
and the king nuzzled him, unashamedly stroking the groin of the younger man.
Long loving strokes, sexual, but also a healing touch, not one to titillate.
Harry fought to push up into that hand, hips flexing wildly.
"Yes, sexual congress is the only way to remove the symptoms and disperse the
spell." The sight of the suffering, both of Harry and of Amrys, made Severus
fight to suppress the murderous rage that was growing within himself. The boy
had suffered enough in his life. He had a loving family around him now, he did
not deserve this. And the man. Severus caught his breath. The man, beautiful,
noble, and honorable. The last person that should be the subject of this kind
of assault. Severus ground his teeth together, jaw clenched impotently.
"You will not survive him in his current state." Lucius remarked with utter
conviction, only telling Snape what he'd already concluded himself. He looked
down at the sobbing kitten he held in his arms. If Amrys needed sex, then
clearly Harry did as well. Lucius displayed his teeth, his fury growing.
Whoever had done this would pay. He stood walking toward the furs piled on his
bed. A curse on the one who had done this. He bore Harry up onto the bed. This
was a breach of all that was right.
"Bring my second to me." Lucius said in a voice like ground glass, a voice that
cut, and might draw blood from an incautious person who came too near. Graeme
and Jonas hesitated, Graeme's eyes flying up to see the expression on the
king's face, then obeyed. The king was going to gift Amrys with his Chosen. Was
being forced to do it. The room fell eerily silent but for the grunts of Amrys,
and Harry's whimpering.
Lucius lowered his head, his lips touching the fevered skin of his Chosen's
cheek. Amrys was carried closer.
"Harry, your ease is near. I have found you what you need." Lucius' voice was
the most loving and adoring that Severus had heard from any man to his beloved.
It choked his own voice in his throat. He looked at Amrys, he wanted to be the
one that soothed his lover's needs. Not standing here, seeing the unnatural
hunger, and lust, and having to stand aside, and not answer it, not ease it.
Lucius stripped the remants of Harry's clothing from the thrashing body. The
king's face was a rictus of suffering. His pale eyes glacial.
Graeme fought to control his own reaction. This was a thing, the coming
together of second and Chosen, that should be done in joy. Not forced. His
heart bled.
***** Chapter 96 *****
Chapter 96
 
Amrys fought them as they brought him nearer the furs. He struggled to get
free, intent on getting to the thrashing young man on the bed. He roared,
heaving his two restrainers up off the floor in an impressive show of strength.
Veins, standing out like bulging cords on his forehead and along his neck, all
the way to his chest and wrists.
Graeme held on grimly. Jonas never flinched, the flex of his large muscles
attesting to the second's power as they grappled, his concern transmitted well
through the places he and Graeme touched in their combined hold on Amrys. The
blond were-leopard hissed warningly when he was not able to leap towards his
goal, when they controlled his approach. The creak of extending claws was like
knives piercing leather. He craned his neck suddenly, taking a strike that only
just missed, wanting to sink his fangs in what ever vulnerable flesh was near.
"You will not let his arms free. He must not harm Harry." Lucius said to the
men, as he arranged the clinging Harry on the furs next to him. Amrys fought,
no recognition of his king, or the king's Chosen showing in his expression. His
head was up, nose lifted, he was drawing in gulping breaths. He heaved up again
lifting both Graeme and Jonas off of the floor again for an instant before he
let them crash back down.
"Stop. He can not be controlled like this." Lucius said, in the same moment
Snape stepped closer.
"Stop." Snape repeated, outwardly cool and practical. "The madness doesn't
allow him to know who it is he is fixated on. The magic is not kind and gentle,
it is sharp edged. The perpetrator means this to be violent, hard and fast. He
has not let there be any room for else." Snape said, keeping his tone
unemotional, though he wanted to scream his outrage that anyone would dare to
do this to his Amrys. He swallowed hard.
"Yes. I agree. Shall we knock him out? Will time alleviate his need? Harry's?"
The king asked as he watched the two struggles going on. Snape shook his head.
"Will the spell fade on it's own?"
"No, time will only increase the drive and the madness. Lucius." Snape said,
his voice becoming rusty with emotion despite his attempts to control it,
lacking it's usual rich, smoothness. He cleared his throat and tried again. "In
this state he will unintentionally injure Potter. Allow me to try to give him a
release before he goes to him." The wizard's voice was subdued. He flushed red,
his normally pale face lit with his blush. He wished for privacy, but it was
not to be. Amrys was hurting. That he could not permit, not when he could ease
it.
"Very well. Kaithas, come stand close. Watch. I would not have you hurt either,
wizard." Lucius gave his blessing. He turned back to Harry, who's agitation was
only growing worse. He crooned to the youth, and once again put his hand down,
knowing what was to come, and not wanting to take any chances. His oiled
fingers slipped into the body of the young man he held.
Patiently, Lucius slid his fingers in deep, caressing the flesh, relaxing Harry
as much as he could, and Harry immediately responded with a shaky cry and a
second ejaculation. There was no lessening of his erection. His eyes were
screwed tightly shut.
Sweat dewed Harry's face and body, his pale skin like ivory, polished, and
slick. Lucius let his fingers remain where they were, willing the young man to
relax, but Harry's body never eased, his arousal, never lessened. He groaned.
Lucius leaned down, kissed him, and Harry turned his head away, arching his
hips up and down, not wanting tenderness, wanting sex, wild and hard, and
dirty, more penetration, more force.
Severus' hands were careful, as he placed them on the other man's hips. Graeme
and the big guardian holding Amrys strained as Amrys' entire body surged
forward into that tentative touch. Amrys let out a sound that was pure animal,
urgent and feral. They heaved him up onto the bed and atop the furs next to the
king and Harry.
Severus Snape sank to his knees on the furs between the legs of the man he was
coming to realize he had fallen so deeply in love with. Graeme and the massive
guardian were one to each side of Amrys, holding him down, restricting his
arms, and the lethal claws at the ends of them.
Snape blanked his mind to the many others in the room, all of whom watched with
worry and concern, as he bent down, Amrys' meaty thighs one to each side of his
own, clothed hips. No foreplay today the wizard thought bitterly, Amrys was
already set to burst. This was still Amrys, still the one he wanted, he was
hurting, and Severus was going to give him release. Snape wasted no time,
taking the long, golden brown erection now filled full of congested blood,
colored to purpled hues, pulsing with each beat of the leopard's great heart,
into his mouth.
Amrys screamed. Long and harsh, a tearing sound and he released, arching
forward, into Severus' throat, as the man fought to swallow it all, thick, hot
wetness, filling his mouth his throat, bubbling out and over his chin. He drew
back, swiped a hand over his face. It came back wet, he wiped again and again.
Gently someone took his hand, pulled it away, pulled him away and a tongue
licked his face. Not erotically, but gently, caring. Helping him clean his
face, recognizing his distress, and knowing that the fluids of Snape's lover
should be treated with respect despite this horrifying situation. Kaithas
helped him to a corner of the bed, lapped at his face, warm, tender. The
tenderness was his undoing. Severus began to cry.
Next to them, Harry howled, pain and need and terror in the sound. He strained
towards the pride's second. Fighting Lucius' hands, scratching long furrows
into the king's arms and blood dripped. Lucius captured the flailing hands,
held them prevented further injury to himself.
He shared a look with his third. Graeme guided Amrys, his friend whose
suffering was great, to Harry. Harry immediately tried to arch up into the
sweat drenched body. Whimpering, filled with the need to meet the hunger he
felt radiating off the second. Amrys did not know who was beneath him, he only
knew his burning lust, his throbbing need. He lunged. Snarling and spitting,
Graeme and Jonas held his hands behind him, so he would not tear and rend
Harry.
Harry opened, to the man over him, wrapped his legs around him, hissed his
emptiness, begged to be filled. Amrys, growled. Lucius felt the lump in his
throat grow, an aching, squeezing, as all that was dear to the pride was
violated, twisted, and turned.
Amrys slid into Harry. They moved as if they were meant to fit so perfectly,
yet the feel was not sweet and tender, it was a ravenous feeding. So very
wrong. Lucius felt tears cascade down his cheeks as he watched. Amrys screamed,
hoarse, tortured. Grinding without finesse, trying to find surcease to the
rending pain. And failing. It grew, and grew.
Lucius, desperate, thrust his bloodied arm into his second's mouth. Amrys fell
on the blood, chewing and lapping at it, finding a slight ease in the familiar
taste, and scent of his dear friend. Of his king. The power in the king's blood
eased the crushing pain in his chest, he drew in a breath, fought to regain
sanity......He slid out of Harry, and the madness flooded back. He howled his
agony. Once more clawing, his hands restrained, ripping this time into the
furs, tearing away tufts of fur.
Harry one more time wrapped his body around Amrys, guided the man into his body
purely by instinct. They moved together. Harsh, jerky at first, then smoother
and smoother. Frantically fast. Panting. Moaning, hurting. Lucius Malfoy looked
up and into the eyes of the wizard huddled in his seer's arms. The horror in
those pale eyes, the terror in the strong man's face was the last push Severus
needed. He straightened.
Severus Snape had had enough. He dashed his arm across his face. He'd cried. A
thing he just didn't ever do. This time he had plenty of reason. But crying,
and the catharsis it brought, was not what was needed now.
Now....
Snape pulled his wand from one of the deep pockets in his robes. His grip would
have broken a less durable wand than his own. His tendons creaked. His jaw
clenched, and pure crystalline outrage filled him.
He needed....
He raised his arm and concentrated. Collecting his indomitable will, as he
pictured the one who had sent this abomination, who had meant to hurt the man
he loved, and a boy he cared for deeply.
To fight....
He spoke the words of the counter spell and felt the wild, gathering of energy
as he pulled it all together into a ball of seething discontent and negativity,
growing and growing, until he had it all, every scrap of the hated and hateful
spell.
Back...
He hissed the spell to send each sparkling, malignant, inkling of horror back
on the one who really deserved it. The air snapped, burst and flashed, and the
spell shot back to its originator.
***** Chapter 97 *****
Chapter 97
 
The thick, yellow, miasmic fog began to clear. It's choking drifts thinned. He
came up from the depths. He started to realize where he was, what was
happening. He ached all over, his face, his arms, his chest, his legs, his
pelvis, everywhere.
There was weight on top of him. Panic tightened his throat. He almost struck
out when the odor hit him full force. Pain scent, fear, mourning, sadness, sex,
hatred. It was enough to suffocate someone. It gave him pause. The man on top
of him, slumped over, still hard, inside of his body...it was Amrys?
Amrys. How had that happened? A flash of distant recall. Then he remembered,
like a film, like a mirror of truth, he saw what had happened. The scent of
dear, sweet, kind love, the scent of Draco, Yaji and Mantheer, passion,
adoration. Good, clean scent...then.....
Something different. Something dark, sinister, malignant. Something crafted
only to cause harm. Something that rode on the pure smell of love and
happiness, of honest caring desire, but carried none of that purity. Something
foul that twisted everything.
Something that twisted his own desire into a frenzy of darkness, of lust that
would not ease. Harry shuddered, crawling up from that frightening pit. And he
saw what he had done while caught up in the...spell. He saw the way he'd
burned, and the way he had not found any relief. He had scratched his love,
deep, hurtful, he had demanded more and more and more. He had not been able to
stop, driven right over the edge, seeking pain, and sex and more pain.
It was so not him, that Harry did not find it possible to blame himself...or
the man sobbing on top of him. Amrys was waking from his own nightmare. And
crying for the harm he had caused. Amrys. Who was good, strong and kind, and
did not deserve to take the blame for any of this. Amrys who needed to be told
he was forgiven, that the harm was not his, that all would heal and be OK.
Harry raised his arms. Folded them around the shaking were-leopard. "Peace." He
said.
######
Dumbledore was caught by surprise, bending down over his desk when the pain
struck. In a place that had only ever given him pleasure. He straightened up
with a snap. He was erect, achingly, painfully erect. Not an erect that
promised enjoyment, not an erect that might prompt him to take out his spy-
glass and look for sweet young flesh to ease it. No, this was not anything like
that. He wanted this to go away. Now.
Dumbledore groped over to a chair and sank down into it. He cupped his swollen
genitals and moaned. He could not credit this sudden agony! He could not bear
it. He reached for his wand, tried a comfort spell. Then he tried a healing
spell. Then a numbing spell. Then a spell to shrink. Nothing helped. He moaned
again.
He would not panic. Staggering to his feet he headed out to the infirmary. To
Madame Pomfrey and her cures. She would be able to help him. He was sure of it.
He only rarely had needed her cures, but they had never failed him.
The short walk was nothing less than a living, burning hell. He shuffled his
feet, because to lift them off the floor, was unbearable, knives piercing into
him. Merlin! He felt now, as if he would never, ever want sex, or an erection
again. Never. In fact the idea of sex....he bent over and vomited all over his
shoes, and the sweeping hem of his robes. The floor rose up to meet him.
^^^^^
Amrys woke. His mind going from confusion to clarity in the space of seconds.
Oh, god. What had he done? He had raped.....the Chosen. Harry. He had raped
Harry. His howl split the air.
Then arms. Warm, loving, forgiving. He smelled it. No more darkness, it was
burned away. He smelled the smell of the pride. Of forgivenessss, of
acceptance, of love. For him. He smelled his king. He smelled Harry. He smelled
Graeme, Jonas and Kaithas. All of them. And. He smelled the one he loved. He
smell anger, fury really, and...he smelled that Severus....loved... him.
Harry's hands were stroking him. Harry's body was warm around him, enveloping
him. Amrys felt his erection ease, slipping out of the Chosen's body. Harry let
out a sigh. He turned his head, and kissed the damp brow of the golden leopard.
"Peace." He said, his tenor voice holding forgiveness, and love, and the sound
of the pride. Amrys was of the pride. He was not cast out. He was pride. He was
pride. They held him.
Stronger arms held him. The arms of the king, long and strong and sheltering.
Of Graeme, his friend. He felt the tears falling from them onto his face as
they eased him into comfort. They petted him, licked him, cuddled him. Lucius
pressed his head to his chest. Offered him sanctuary. Harry, did not flee from
him in horror. The Chosen snuggled up, to him, lay his head on Amrys' shoulder,
and let out a long sigh. "Peace." He said again. And the voice gave Amrys that.
Peace.
*******
Dumbledore woke in the infirmary, with Poppy bustling around. She approached
his bed just as he realized the agony was not gone. He bent his knees and
groaned, holding his throbbing, bursting penis. He shook his head in negation.
It could not be. Why had he not been healed?
"Albus. I can see that you are not feeling well, not any better. I am sorry."
She leaned down over him. He kindly face full of concern. She watched him, her
eyes very sharp.
"What is wrong with me?" He hissed out between his clenched teeth. He barely
held back a groan, barely kept from begging her to help him.
"You have an erection and it is causing you pain because it is not going down."
She told the Headmaster of Hogwarts. "I am certain that it was caused by a
spell. I haven't been able to break the curse."
He fought not to snap at her. He knew that. He had felt it, right before he
passed out when he vomited after thinking of sex....The gorge rose again,
immediate, and harsh. He flung himself over to the side of the bed and vomited
over the edge.
It took him several gut wrenching minutes before he fell back onto the bed,
sweat drenched. Poppy handed him a wet cloth. He mopped his face and brow.
Merlin. The very idea of sex made him ill...his stomach heaved again. He forced
it down.
"Yes. How can it be healed?" He gasped at last, exhausted, pained. He lowered
the cloth and pressed it to his burning crotch. It almost helped. Almost.
"Well. That is the catch I am afraid. There is no way. I am afraid you will
merely have to wait." The medi-witch said.
Wait! he could not! "The pain. Can you take away the pain?" He begged.
She shook her head. "No. I have tried everything. Nothing has been effective. I
am sorry, Albus." But her eyes....his brow furrowed. They glittered strangely.
"How long?" He gritted out. This was not bearable.
"A day, a week, perhaps two weeks at most. Until it falls off." Poppy said, her
voice low and sweetly sympathetic. "The pain will go away once your penis has
fallen off."
Dumbledore stared at her in disbelief. "There must be something you can do! I
can't be emasculated!"
Poppy leaned in even closer. Her face changed, became narrower, tighter, feral,
hate filled. "Did you know you talk in your sleep, Albus? While you tossed and
turned. you gave a most amazing confession." She was mere inches from him, he
tried to shrink back into the piled pillows. Trying to fathom what would make
the efficient, kindly healer behave in this odd manner. They had always gotten
on so well.
"You filthy, horrible man. I know." She snarled at him. "I KNOW. Everything you
have done, every foul thing you have made these children suffer. I KNOW. It
*is* going to rot off, Albus. I am sure it will." And she stalked off.
&&&&&&&&
And at last. The voice. Velvet rich. Caressing. Amrys had heard it raised in
wordless passion. He'd heard it in snarky impatience. He'd heard it take
charge. He'd heard it kind, soothing. Now he heard it filled with love. He
heard Severus, saying his name. He heard Severus.
Then he reached out. And he held him. His love. His Severus. And Amrys, at last
felt the full peace Harry spoke of.
***** Chapter 98 *****
Chapter 98
 
Chink!
A yelp followed the small sound that rang out in the Quidditch Team changing
room.
Blaise turned to look, seeing young Hans Grimwold, following in the tradition
Potter had started, a very young Seeker, clutching his foot and hopping up and
down. The boy was bare, as expected for being on his way to the showers after a
hard-played match. He extended his bruised toes and wiggled them
experimentally.
"What's up with you? You all right, Hansie?" Blaise inquired. Looking over the
wriggling toes himself. Then his gaze was diverted to something else.
Something shiny and round was rolling in circles on the floor, round and round
and round in an ever narrowing trajectory. It hit a bump and rolled right to
Blaise's own bare feet. Bending down he picked it up, turning it over in his
nimble finger's examining it. Huh?!
"What are you doing with a spy-glass, Hansie?" Blaise looked at the younger
boy. Who looked completely blank. Blaise decided the puzzlement was honest, not
feigned. Hans had no idea what the glass was.
"I am not!" The boy complained. "It fell on my foot. Right out of the air onto
my toes." He exclaimed, offended, as if the object had done it deliberately.
Blaise raised a skeptical brow. Pushed, just to be sure. "If they find out we
had it in here, we'll be accused of spying on the other teams."
"It is not mine." Hans insisted. He wriggled his toes again. Seemed satisfied
he was going to survive. "I don't even know what it is exactly...what is it?"
"It is a spy-glass. Not something to play around with. Where did it come from
then?" Blaise wondered out loud. Then he shrugged. He had the perfect solution.
There was a very easy way to find out. He would take it to Professor Snape, the
head of Slytherin House.
"Here. It fell off the wall right there." Hans pointed out the spot
indignantly. He hung back as if he expected other bad things to come from the
location.
Blaise looked at the spot. His eyes narrowed. He turned and looked one way,
back over his shoulder. The spot would show the lockers, all of them. He turned
and looked the other way. And the showers. Not the meeting room. Where the
players would all be clothed. A chill ran up his back. It had been right about
hip height. Blaise was not stupid, nor naive. Someone had been peeping. Someone
connected to Hogwarts, 'cause no one else could get in here to put the spy-
glass up. He felt rage and disgust building inside of his stomach in a
sickening wave. Some perv was peeping at *kids*. He was one of the oldest, in
his last year, but there were real *kids* here.
It seemed Hans was not stupid either. The twelve year old's brows raised
towards his curly blond hairline. "Ooooooo." He said. Eyes gone huge, with
shocked and outraged innocence. "Oh. Someone's been...." He gulped, hands going
to cover his privates.
"Too late for that." Blaise said dryly. "I think it safe to say, we've likely
got nothing left to hide. None of us."
"Oooo." Hans said, again, cheeks gone blazing red in his pale, blond complected
face. "Momsy is going to be really angry." He whispered.
It took a minute for Blaise to realize that Hans had spoken rightly using the
words he had. Just long enough for him to recall just who Hans' mother was.
Hans' mother was an Auror for the Ministry of Magic. Actually *the* head
trainer of all Aurors. "Battling Bertha". Not the best person to tell that her
son was being oogled while naked in a school changing room. She *would* be
pissed. Not as in irritated, not as in a bit perturbed. Not as in unhappy. She
was going to be PISSED.
OOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Chink!
The were-cats on the bed all alerted, heads raised, turned towards the
unexpected noise, ears up, forward, all flashing to triangular kitty ears to
better pick up and track the tiny sound. Their slit pupil-ed eyes snapped into
focus on the globe that was rolling irregularly over the stone tiled floor.
Graeme was up and off the bed first, Amrys right behind him, scooping the
sphere up into his palm. He'd never seen the like of it. A ray of light was
caught in its depths, refracting into a rainbow across his chest and arm.
"Bring it to me." Snape's voice cut crisply in to Graeme's puzzlement. His tone
told the were-leopard that Snape, at least, knew just what this mysterious
thing was. He returned to the very full bed, where Lucius had automatically
covered Harry with his own body to protect him and dropped the tiny sphere into
the wizard's cupped palm. Lucius sat up, peering at the object in Snape's hand.
Harry moved closer to his former teacher, as the realization of what Snape now
held occurred to him. "A spy-glass!" He exclaimed. "What is it doing here?"
Snape shot him a look. "I should think that was obvious, Mr. Potter." He
replied without heat. He gave a grimace. "I am afraid that it is quite possible
the last few hours have been less than private."
Harry's face flamed. He had been in great need of comfort. Cuddling had only
provided so much of what he needed. So Lucius, despite the crowded bed, had
gently given him what he asked for. Sweetly making love to him, as Graeme had
held Harry, stroking his raven curls, kissing him.
Now, Snape was telling him....someone else may have witnessed it all. Someone
not belonging to the pride. A stranger. And Harry blushed to his roots. The
older leopards had a very different reaction. Kaithas patted his shoulder,
reassuringly. Amrys, Graeme and Lucius snarled.
"Who has violated our privacy?" Amrys asked darkly, his mood only partly
recovered from his reaction to being driven to sexually assault Harry. Where
normally he would be the most even tempered of men, he was ready to rend and
tear. He wanted to damage whoever had violated them again by spying on their
most intimate moments.
Lucius sat stiffly, his face thunderous. The pride was still being attacked. It
was not acceptable. His people were being harmed, their lives exposed. "Can you
give us a name? I would like to pay them a visit, to...express
my...displeasure...with this...." He rumbled, deep in his chest, his voice
holding a threatening growl. He pulled Harry nearer, as if to shield the Chosen
after the fact. Tucking the youth into his arms and showing his bristling
teeth. Harry himself, once the blush had faded, was feeling outraged. He
growled unhappily.
Severus pulled out his wand and waved it over the small artifact. The glass
shone brighter. Pulsing. Then the light faded with a "whoooomp". Snape
instantly threw the sphere away from them all as hard as he could. It flew into
the stone fireplace and exploded into a thousand sharp, cutting shards, flames
spitting out in long tongues of angry blue and red. They all ducked, until the
conflagration had died down.
Snape was shaking his hand. Amrys grabbed it, gently unfolding the long, supple
fingers to expose the circular burn. His anger rose higher. He carefully licked
the singed skin. Soothing the sharp pain with his healing saliva. He hated that
Snape did not have the same healing powers as a lycanthrope. He worried that
his love would be harmed, and not be able to recover. Amrys resolved to speak
to Lucius at his next opportunity. Severus should be offered the chance to be
of the pride. He had defended them all. He had cared for Draco and his
children. For all intents and purposes, Snape was pride already. If he wished
it, they owed him a chance to become a were-leopard in truth.
"No. I am afraid the device was booby-trapped. I can not tell who has sent it
to spy." Severus Snape's dissatisfaction was abundantly clear. He was furious
that Amrys and Harry had been attacked. His desire for revenge was palpable.
Harry mumbled something from his position wedged tightly against the king's
chest and under the powerful arm. Snape raised his brows. Harry fidgeted, so he
wasn't quite so tightly mashed. "The same one who spelled me and Amrys." He
said, confidently.
"Safe to say, yes." Snape replied. "It had the same feel, the same signature. I
only wish I had been able to track it." He ground his teeth in frustration.
Then leaped in place as if stung. He pulled a flat scrying disc out of his deep
pocket and glanced at it. He recognized the face in the disc.
"Yes, Mr. Zabini?" Snape inquired, all trace of upset gone from his smooth,
rich, melted-chocolate voice. "How may I help you?"
Blaise held up the small sphere so that Professor Snape could see it. He opened
his mouth. "We found this in the locker room...." He began, only to have Snape
cut him off, urgently.
"Put it down at once." And such was the influence he had over his House, Blaise
obeyed without question or demand for explanation. He gingerly set it onto the
floor tiles, backing swiftly away. "Are you alone?" Snape persisted.
"No, professor. I am not alone. There are a few of us still here..." Blaise
answered, the hair at the back of his neck raising. "I think someone was
peeping at us...."
"Yes." Snape agreed. "All of you will leave the room, immediately. Place a
lock-spell on the door to that room, your *best* lock-spell, Mr. Zabini. Return
to Slytherin House. Do not speak of it to anyone. I will be there in moments.
Move, Mr. Zabini, time is critical, the object is more dangerous than you
think."
He swung his long legs out of the bed as the scrying-disc winked out, restoring
it into his pocket. Amrys followed, his face set. And Graeme, Harry, Lucius
were less than a step behind, heading out of the room at a run.
Kaithas was left alone on the bed, blinking.
***** Chapter 99 *****
Chapter 99
 
Severus Snape was not in any mood to be trifled with. He had muttered a spell
at the Quidditch changing rooms to assure no one would be going in, threw a
handkechief over the sphere, then he rushed to Slytherin House to check on the
well-being of his charges.
The ruling three of the were-leopards were in no better mood. They, along with
a stubborn and determined not to be left behind Harry, had accompanied Snape to
Hogwarts. All had been surprised, unpleasantly, to see Blaise Zabini was at
Hogwarts when Snape's scrying disc had alerted. He had disobeyed Amrys' edict
to stay away from the school until all the conflicts were resolved. While being
grateful the youngling was safe, the ruling three were still angry, and Blaise
was going to be in for a few uncomfortable moments when they caught up with
him.
Blaise had always been a great fan of the game of Quidditch. When he made the
team in his second year, he was estatic. Now he was in his last year, and he
was not about to miss out on his last few games. He had not even told the other
kittens that he was going to Hogwarts. Another sign that made Graeme growl
under his breath. Blaise had known he was doing wrong. And he had done it
anyway. The kitten was going to get his ears boxed, soundly.
In order not to cause any undue alarm, Severus Snape took a moment to slip into
his normal attire, intending to appear as familiar to the children as possible.
Amrys and the rest of the weres stood to one side watching the transformation
with unconcealed fascination, heads tilted, slit pupiled eyes watching the
quick, well practiced actions as Severus stripped, then re-clothed himself.
They were all in full animal form, their best battling forms, the most lethal.
The soft, flowingly loose robes of the pride were replaced with severely
tailored and *uncomfortable* looking garments. Amrys stroked a paw down the
wool coat and frowned, even in cat form, it was obviously a frown. It was not
the soft fabric he preferred to have against the skin of his Snape. The clothes
changed him from the pliable lover Amrys had recently enjoyed, to the starched
and correct instructor and dedicated protector of his students.
The Slytherins were gathered in the common room, huddled around the gigantic
fireplace, well aware, down to the youngest, that something serious was going
on. A thing they should be concerned with. The awareness of danger fairly
crackled through the air. They were astute children, crafty and observant for
the most part, not naive at all. The continual politicking by their parents
while they grew up, ensured that. They took nothing at face value.
In the front of the group, head down, eyes reluctant to meet the eyes of the
the leading were-leopards, was Blaise Zabini, the wayward kitten of the pride.
Next to him was a much shorter boy, a year younger, small and compact, who
watched the leopards with blazing attention. He crowded close to Zabini, as if
trying to shield him.
Lucius Malfoy, magnificent and furry, padded up to the teen leopard's side,
matching step to step with Severus Snape. Behind him were the furry forms of
Harry, Graham and the magnificent, golden Amrys. All three strutting with
regal, purely feline self-possession as they entered the room. The dozens of
children's eyes widened watching the parade of huge leopards enter the room and
take it over.
Blaise lowered his gaze, his body quivering, as his king approached. Lucius
brushed against the youth, his fur sliding in a silken wave along the youth's
side. He nosed Blaise away from the rest of the kids. Blaise shivered. Graeme
was next, crowding close, a resplendent, coppery furred giant, his face lifted
to rub along the dark haired boy's neck and shoulder. He purred, a deep rumble.
Amrys inched closer, wedging himself between Lucius and the third, to butt his
head into Blaise's chest. Harry was the last of the leopards to nuzzle his way
into the group of intertwined were-leopards. He gave his fellow kitten a quick
lick then withdrew, leaving the older three to their exploration of Blaise.
They all examined him carefully, assuring themselves he was not harmed.
Snape watched with some trepidation, wondering just how the Slytherins would do
with their sudden introduction to pride facts of life. Blaise was one of the
most admired members of Slytherin House. Severus watched very closely for any
sign of unrest, or threat to the were-leopards. Slytherins, thought by the
other houses to be crafty and untrustworthy, were actually fantastically loyal.
If Blaise was perceived to be at risk of serious harm, they would attack the
feared and unknown to save him. Snape saw a number of small hands clenched
around ready wands, still buried in the pockets of their robes.
Lucius, Graeme and Amrys had all startled unhappily when Blaise had appeared on
Snape's scrying disc. Snape however had not been too surpirsed. Blaise was not
supposed to be at Hogwarts. Rather, he was supposed to be at the Manor, safely
curled up with the other kittens, and with the pride, under the protective
watch of the adult leopards. Lucius had plans to scold the youngling thoroughly
for sneaking out to play his favorite game of Quidditch, despite the risk to
his own safety. But, for now, they were bonding, happy he was not injured.
Certain Blaise was uninjured, Lucius let out a commanding rowl, knocking the
young man to the floor, onto his back, placing his dinner-plate sized paws on
his youngling's shoulders Blaise did not resist, toppling over, laying still.
Lucius lowered his body to rest on his wayward leopard's body, almost large
enough to completely conceal Blaise from the rest of the students. That caused
a ripple of alarm to move thorugh the gathered throng of young wizards and
witches. They inched forward, cautiously, more hands on more concealed wands.
Snape raised a hand and they stopped. Eyes fastened on his face.
One young man, the one who had been standing next to Blaise when they first
entered the room, a brown haired, with oddly, sunset colored eyes, and rather
short stature, let out a noise of distress, trying to go to Blaise's side,
struggling in the restraining arms of his Housemates. Graeme glowered at him,
interposing his body between the youth and the were-king. Lucius growled,
louder and more commanding this time. The air shimmered, and Blaise went from
tall, slim youth, to a deep, dark brown/black haired cat,with sparkling brown
eyes. The room filled with stunned "eeps".
The collective group of Slytherins let out a gasp. Shrinking into a tighter
mass, clutching at one another. Most had never seen a lycanthrope, let alone
four. Besides, weren't they supposed to be were-*wolves*? Who ever heard of
were-*cats*? Lycanthropes were so secretive, so reclusive, there still remained
a number in the wizarding world who did not believe that any were-animals
actually existed. Thought they were a legend or a myth. A fantasy. The brown
young man who had tried to reach Blaise, let out a cry, and fought harder, as
Lucius growled louder.
Blaise turned over an went to his belly under his king. Lucius moved over him,
covering him again, sinking careful fangs into his nape. The brown boy let out
a yell, and pushed at the hands holding him. Graeme snarled, showing his
fearsome fangs. There was a ringing gasp of horror. Snape stepped closer, not
willing to let the young man fear for Blaise without offering reassurance.
"Mr. Alexander." Snape called out, tone uncharacteristically soft while
remaining firm. "Cease your struggles. They are not necessary. Mr. Zabini will
not be harmed. He has defied his king's orders, partly, I am assuming in order
to see you."
Charles "Peach" Alexander lifted worried eyes to his Head of House's face,
looking for the information he had to have, information he might believe, that
Blaise, his dearest friend, was going to be safe. His blush confirmed that
Blaise had indeed disobeyed Amrys, partly to see him.
Lucius, satisfied with Blaise's submission, raised himself up off of his
kitten, and stalked a few feet away, resting there on his haunches, and
observing. Graeme flashed to human form, grabbing the kitten by the scruff and
shaking him firmly, raising the cat's face to bring the dark eyes to meet his
own. Blaise went marshmallow-soft in the grip.
"I was under the impression you were aware of the prohibition our second sent
down to every student from the pride? That all the lycanthrope groups have
agreed that their students would not yet return to Hogwarts." Graeme half
asked, half told the limp, docile, young leopard. He shook him again. Blaise's
eyes rolled down to the floor then back to Graeme. He remained still,
unresisting.
"No! Stop it!" Came the cry from the young man that Snape had called Mr.
Alexander. He fumbled for his wand. Determined to defend his friend. Severus
stepped forward. His own wand ready.
"Mr. Alexander. Do not raise your wand!" He said, sternly. The wild eyes that
met his were not comforting, nor reassuring. He needed to get the youth closer,
where he could prevent a disaster. He resorted to something he almost never
did, he used a student's nickname. "Peach! This is a private matter. Restrain
yourself." It startled all the Slytherins for a moment.
"You can't let them do that to him!" The youth exclaimed, after a beat of
silence. "You can't!" His jaw set firmly, and he glared at his professor,
defiant, though he was trembling. "I won't let them." He said, angrily. Amrys
growled and moved to place himself between the young wizard and Graeme, where
the third was bending over Blaise. Harry had gone to lay down in front of
Lucius. The lazy relaxed pose a sham, he was ready to leap up in an instant.
"Mr. Zabini is not being harmed. He is, quite obviously, a lycanthrope, and he
has broken a rule set by one of the dominant members of his pride. He is in
need of discipline. That is all this is. Discipline. There is no need for your
concern, admirable though it is in the face of such odds." Snape said
soothingly, firmly.
"No." Peach shook his head violently. "No."
"Come here." Snape waited, and once Peach was at his side, he clamped a strong
hand on the slender shoulder, felt the tremors the youth was barely
controlling. Merlin! He was smaller even than Potter! The rest of you, return
to your rooms." He ordered. And reluctantly they left the room. Trailing more
slowly, looking over their shoulders. The existence of lycanthropes was going
to be confimed all over the wizarding world by tomorrow. Snape was sure of it.
***** Chapter 100 *****
Chapter 100
 
Graeme stroked the soft, dark fur of the kitten. He wanted to punish the
kitten, here and now, he wanted to give him a good bat to the head, knock some
sense into him. But, Blaise lay unresisting, anything but defiant, his dark
brown eyes locked onto Graeme's deep blue ones, submitting completely. And
Graeme could not smack him like this, not now. Not even for putting himself at
risk and scaring all of them. He nuzzled his face deep into Blaise's ruff and
held him close. He was safe. Naughty, disobedient, but safe. For now that was
enough. Later, well they'd see about later.
Peach squirmed in Snape's grip, obviously still upset by what was going on in
front of him between Graeme and Blaise. Why was Blaise, energetic, athletic,
strong, just laying there, not fighting back, or defending himself? Was he
hurt, had they hurt him, done something to him that Peach had missed? He
wanted, needed, to find out. He tried to get free. Snape tightened his grip.
"Steady, Mr. Alexander. If you plan on knowing Blaise better you should see
this. This is part of what he is, beyond being a student at Hogwarts, beyond
being a student of wizardry and witchcraft. He is a lycanthrope, and this is
how they do things." Snape's warm voice flowed over the boy's skin, soothing
and calming. He patted Peach's stiff shoulder.
Harry sat up, shook himself, and flashed to human shape. Peach let out a
squeak. "Potter! What are you doing here?" Seeming truly upset to find a
Gryffindor in the enclave of the Slytherins.
"I am a were-leopard." Harry said. "Blaise is one of my pride." He came closer.
His human form more graceful now than Peach recalled from the last time he'd
seen Potter, the way he moved was less uncertain, his gangly form gone, now he
was fluid, supple, compelling.
"But, you are a Gryffindor!" Peach burst out. As if that meant Harry could not
be here, now, and a lycanthrope, too. As if it were a betrayal.
"That does not stop us belonging to the same pride," Harry told him. "Don't
worry, Alexander. This is normal. I've gone through it myself. And I am fine."
Peach looked less than convinced.
"Converse while we walk." Snape said, crisply, herding the two youths out into
the hall after the regal cat that was Lucius Malfoy. "I don't like to leave the
spy-glass unattended for too long. It is time to get back to the Quidditch
rooms and see what we can discover. You may accompany us, Mr. Alexander, if I
can have your word not to interfere. Interference may prove a serious problem
for us all. Perhaps a deadly one."
"Yes, sir." Peach, not about to be left behind, nodded his agreement, resisting
the childish urge to cross his fingers behind his back. Then he went with the
unlikely group, rushing to keep up with them. His eyes never leaving the back
of the subdued were-leopard walking with Graeme's fingers knotted in his fur.
Blaise. Oh, Blaise.
Blaise was beautiful like this, Peach thought. Shining coat, muscles rippling
under it. The way he moved, like flowing power, Peach wanted to reach out and
wrap his arms around his friend, burrow into the warm, silken fur. Be close. He
fought the blush that rose unbidden to his face. Damn! He was always so
obvious! They had never talked about this. About being friends...and someday,
more than friends, Peach hoped. Ghod, he hoped so.
^^^^^^^^^
The sphere lay exactly where they left it, in the middle of the floor of the
changing room, covered by a starched, white handkerchief. Snape strode into the
room, Harry right behind him. The other cats following, Peach still held firmly
against Snape's side, secured against any youthful impulses or heorics. Inside
the room Severus let go of the boy, Amrys came to stand near the youthful
wizard. Peach looked askance at the large, gold furred leopard, prepared for
anything from the great beast. He was holding onto his wand so tightly it was
in serious danger of snapping in two. But the massive cat made no hostile
moves, just watched him with deceptively peaceful, lazy gold-brown eyes.
"Mr. Potter, with me please." Snape said, briskly, approaching the spy-glass.
"A containment spell, first, I think." Harry left Lucius' side and stepped
forward. The room suddenly crackled with spine-tingling force, a rush of light
and sound. Peach sucked in an astonished breath.
Harry pulled out his wand and flicked it in a perfect, iridescent green circle.
The light settled over the sphere and kerchief without a ripple, Snape's wand
guiding the strong barrier that Harry's vast power had created. It wavered and
wove, and grew smaller and smaller, squeezing, choking down, until it coated
the sphere, no space between the spell and the object, tightly, impossibly
contained. The kerchief burst into flame as the ball hopped up into the air,
struggling as if it were alive, skittering wildly, seeking freedom. Freedom
impossible to find within the spell trapping it. Who ever cast the spy-glass
originally, had not been as strong as the boy-who-lived.
Snape felt a smile, a cruelly satisfied one, spread across his face. "We have
you, you bastard." He muttered. It would take time, yes, but whoever had been
the master of the glass was as good as caught. With time and effort, he would
be revealed. And Snape would make him pay.
^^^^^^^^^
Poppy Pomfrey jumped nearly a foot in the air and three feet backwards when
Professor Dumbledore turned a bright, glowing green. She had been changing the
sheets, no matter how odious the man was, she couldn't leave him in soiled,
damp sheets! When all of a sudden he was green. Less than an instant from
normal to shimmering, unnatural, vibrant, neon green. PFFOOOOFFF! A sulfurous
odar filled the air. She clamped a hand over her nose and mouth as the rotten
egg smell filled the small infirmary. Yeccch.
She pressed her second hand to her chest. More magic. More mystery. Her clever,
sharp eyes narrowed. Perhaps...someone....an accomplice, was trying to help the
Headmaster escape! Her lips compressed into a firm disapproving line. That was
not going to be allowed! Albus Dumbledore was not going to escape, and be
permitted to spy, rape and prey on children again! Not if Madame Poppy Pomfrey
had anything to say about it.
She spun on the heel of her half boot, and headed for her fireplace. A quick
call to St. Mungos was in order. Let his helper try to get him out of there!
That place was spelled and charmed and cursed with every kind of security
known. And it was too late for anyone to heal him by now. He wasn't ever going
to be the man he once was.
Poppy knew just who to ask for advice. She allowed herself a smile as she
dialed out for her good friend, Bertha Grimwold. The Auror would know what to
do. Bertha was rarely at a loss. Her first concern would be for her son though,
so to expedite things, Poppy sent for a house elf to find the child.
"Zinny! I need you to go to Slytherin house and fetch young Hansie here."
Madame Pomfrey told the skinny creature who colored a darker pink at the
pleasure of doing something for his very kind Mistress. He scurried off. And,
satified, Poppy made her call.
^^^^^^^^^
The vibrating sphere rose into the air, the were-leopards backed off, ears
flattened to their large skulls, wary of the thing. Snape guided the deadly orb
with deft flicks of his wand. It floated out of the door and they trailed after
it. Now they would find out who was responsible. And extract an appropriate
penalty.
Peach, seeing how everyone's attention was on the green ball, took a chance and
sidled up to Blaise's side. Hesitantly he let a finger touch, just barely, the
so, so soft fur. Oooohhhh. It was so wonderfully soft, so thick, plush. Blaise
turned to look at him, sensing the delicate contact. Peach's eyes were rapt,
shining, as the large young feline looked at him. Peach could hardly breathe,
his lips parted, tongue flicking out to nervously lick them. His hand rose
again, unbidden to tremble over the exquisite fur, Blaise waited, letting him.
Peach let his whole palm settle into the brown/black fur, sinking in. Blaise
let out a quiet purrrrr. And Peach thought he might have fainted, if there had
not been a sudden, loud yell, he might have done so out of sheer astonishment
and joy. He whirled just in time to see Professor Snape flying through the air,
coat flapping, after the brilliant green orb. Harry Potter was clinging grimly
to one of the Professor's legs, dragged along as if they were both weightless,
several feet off of the ground.
The were-leopards acted instantly, springing after the two men who were whisked
along at a breakneck pace. Blaise made an urgent noise and butted up to Peach,
literally scooping him up, and onto the broad back. Peach yipped nervously, but
clung tightly with hands and legs and even teeth as he found he had a mouthfull
of fur, wishing he had more fingers on his feet instead of toes, so he could
hold on even tighter, as Blaise took off after the rapidly disappearing group.
The muscles flexed and extended fluidly under him, Peach was astounded at the
raw power and absolute *perfection* of the cat running under him. Blaise, an
exceptional human athlete, was something far, far more in his feline form. He
was pure artistry, beauty, strength, liquid agility. Every move was sure, and
exact. Yet, he was also being careful of the passenger he was carrying, Peach
sensed that clearly, that he was in no danger of falling or being hurt.
They flashed around a corner, Blaise's haunches bunching for a leap forward and
Peach gasped as they flew down the long, straight hallway, wind whistling
through his own hair. He buried his face in the dark fur under his cheek,
sensing more than seeing the walls zipping past.
Then Blaise was stopping, slowly, cautiously, so as not to abruptly unseat his
passenger. There was a shriek of surprise, and Peach glanced up, heart racing.
They were at Poppy Pomfrey's little hospital wing. The other leopards were
standing about, catching their breath, sides moving in and out, after the
frantic sprint. Madame Pomfrey was standing nearby, hand to her mouth for a
startled instant, a bottle of Smell-B-Gone air freshener in her hand, then she
rushed forward to bend over the two men tangled up on the floor. Peach clapped
a hand over his mouth and nose, it smelled just awful in here!
Harry and Professor Snape were sprawled across the floor at the foot of one of
the beds, Harry's fingers pinching the tip of his nose, making a disgusted
face. In the bed Headmaster Dumbledore was a fantastic shade of green and
hovering above him was the small, accusing green orb. It toook Peach a minute
to figure out why that was so significant. Then he gasped in horror, bile
rising in his throat.
The smell was coming from the man. Professor Dumbledore was the one who had
been peeping. Peach felt his genitals shrink up in an effort to hide inside his
body. A low, ominous growling had begun to fill the room as the were-leopards,
coming to the same conclusion, inched towards the bed.
A shout split the air, deep and ressonant, cutting through all the movement
with the sharp precision of a knife blade. Peach felt Blaise go to the floor in
an instinctual reaction, spilling him to the wooden surface, and crouching over
him protectively. Frantically, Peach clawed at the fur blocking his view until
he was able to see....
A tiny woman, not more than five feet tall, probably and inch or two less,
shorter even than himself. Behind her were three massive men, wands in hand,
arms crossed, brows beetled threateningly, as they scowled at everyone and
everything fiercely. It was the tiny woman who roared.
"Don't touch that man! The scoundrel is mine!" Peach blinked rapidly. The
voice, grating like stone rubbing against stone, could not possibly be coming
from such a dimminutive creature. Then an earsplitting screech came from the
door way and Peach again scrambled to get a look. Blaise hunching down even
lower, covering even more of him.
"Momsy!" Cried out the small blond boy in the doorway. Hansie rushed to his
mother, grabbing her and hugging her, towering over her, even at twelve years
old.
"MMMPPPH!" She said into his shoulder. Then as she managed to rear back, feet
kicking in the air as her son hefted her off the ground. "Put Momsy down, Hans.
I have some business to attend to." Once her feet were back on the ground, she
stalked over to the bed and the wide eyed Dumbledore laying on his back,
trapped in the containment spell. Her bared teeth, tiny in comparison to the
huge fangs of the lycanthropes in the room, still made everyone in the area
take a giant step backwards.
"Albus Dumbledore." She shouted, all around her the curtains shivered and the
bedsteads bounced over the flooring. "You are being taken into custody and will
be transported to St. Mungos immediately. You are being detained on the charges
of sexual abuse and foul exploitation of the children in your care."
On the bed Dumbledore gaped, then spluttered, then frowned, then shivered. No
words came out of his mouth. The large, menacing Aurors stepped forward and
grabbed the man, bed and all, hefting him onto their shoulders. Then vanished
in a puff of purple smoke.
There was a hiss of disappointment in the room coming from multiple throats as
the thwarted lycanthropes glowered at the plume of rapidly disappearing mist.
***** Chapter 101 *****
Chapter 101
 
"Dumbledore? It was Dumbledore, and he was peeping in on the students in the
changing rooms?" Draco exclaimed, stunned by the news. The idea of the old,
wizard, the *grandfatherly* man peering through a magicked glass into the
changing rooms made him shudder. He'd spent plenty of his time at Hogwarts on
the teams. Dumbledore had probably had ample time to view his bared charms, as
much as anyone else's. Draco felt ill. Just thinking about what Dumbledore had
been doing.....
Mantheer came forward, sensing his distress and lifted the baby from Draco's
arms. The cherubic face grimaced for an instant then the deep blue eyes
refocused on the large man's face and the baby gurgled, reaching out one
chubby, rounded arm. Mantheer beamed at the boy.
"That one is Cuchlain? And this..." Harry held up the tiny bundle he was still
holding. "This is Padraig?" He shook his head, it still amazed him, these were
Draco's kids. Draco had given birth to them. Draco nodded.
"How you can tell them apart I'll never know. They look an exact match to me."
Harry stared into the infant's drowsing face, fascinated. "They are so lovely,
Dray."
"Yes. They are." Draco said, watching Mantheer cradle the small body to his
chest, with a crooning purr. He was endlessly amazed at how tender the large
men were with the twins. How the huge hands could touch, feather light, care
and caress. And the babies, they clearly loved their two extra Daddies. He
smiled. His two husbands for all intents and purposes. He would marry them one
day. How had he managed to be so lucky?
"Poppy said he had been doing a lot more than that." Harry said to his friend,
after a time of silent appreciation of the tiny baby. He was tickled pink to
have finally been able to hold the children without being run off by the
overprotective guardians. Then again, the way the world was, perhaps they
weren't overprotective at all. "He had taken several of the boys to his bed and
then either erased their memories or placed charms on them so they couldn't
speak of it, or thought it was their doing, that they wanted it, that they
asked for it, initiated it. It is going to be a long time before this is over,
Dray, it is going to get a lot worse before it gets better."
"How can it get worse than having him out there, abusing the children and no
one the wiser? At least he can't hurt anyone new, not locked away in St.
Mungos." Draco said, standing up from his seat on the chair and moving to the
couch to sit next to Harry. He leaned in, making faces at the just waking
Padraig, who regarded him solemnly. He didn't try to take the child from Harry,
but leaned their shoulders together. "Harry, what would I be driven to do if
someone tried such a thing with my boys?"
Harry made a sound of distress. "Never. Never. It won't happen to them. They
will be safe." Harry tried to reassure his friend. Draco shook his head.
"No one wants to think it could happen. No one will talk of it, so when it
happens we are all shocked at having been blind to it. It might have been
stopped years ago, if those who were around really thought about what they were
seeing. Instead of pretending they weren't seeing anything at all." He reached
out and touched the pink cheek with a tender finger. Harry watched him, then
passed the baby to Draco, knowing Draco needed the soothing sensation of
holding his son. Draco gathered the infant up close.
"They are all going to remember. All of them. That is how it will be worse."
Harry said. "He has been at Hogwarts for over fifty years. How many children
did he hurt?"
"Oh, god. Harry. Do you think..." Draco swallowed. "Some one we know....maybe
one of us? I mean I know we have been victims of his spying and looking is bad
enough, but...did he *touch* one of us?"
"I don't know Draco. Snape has already scanned me. Dumbledore never touched me.
And I would say that he probably knew better than to touch any of the pride's
children. If one of us smelled him on one of the children.... He would have
been killed. Surely, he knew that. But, as for others. Our classmates. Probably
more than one. We'll have to help them." He sighed.
"Yes. And it's not going to happen again, not at Hogwarts, not with Snape as
the new Headmaster." Draco said. He was pleased things had worked out that way.
Severus Snape, stern and strict, would never bend any rule that might allow a
student put at risk. And his eagle eye would be peeled for any signs that
things weren't well. He had a soft spot for the students a mile wide, no matter
how well he hid it. Draco knew it was there.
"You should have seen Blaise and Peach. Peach was ready to challenge Graeme
over his punishment of Blaise for sneaking out to Hogwarts." Harry said
suddenly, giggling. "You should have seen Graeme's face."
"Peach Alexander?" Draco asked in surprise. Blaise was big and strong. The idea
of the small youth, a full year behind Blaise, coming to his defense... Soaking
wet, the boy wasn't more than 100 pounds.
"He damn near scratched his way out of Snape's hold! And Blaise...well, I don't
know how things work with pride members and people outside of the pride...."
Harry said.
"It is very difficult." Draco said. "But, not impossible. "And the pride has
decided to take a more visible role in the wizarding world. Perhaps they will
find it not as hard as in the past. Snape and Amrys are making it work after
all."
"They are." Harry agreed. Though it had been very odd to watch his very proper
and formal instructor be kissed, passionately, by the pride's handsome second.
"Which leaves you. And my father." Draco said, slyly. Harry blushed bright red.
He and Lucius had been having a great and romantic resurgence. Lucius,
exquisitely tender and attentive, Harry thought he would burst with joy. He had
felt no pain when he saw Lucius embracing Fred Weasley. His own heart was too
full. He finally understood, Lucius was king. His love helped the pride stay
connected, gave them all reassurance of his devotion. Sometimes, that love was
physical. But of all the loves, Harry knew he came first. He had no more doubt.
He was the Chosen.
"We will be having a ceremony for the two of you. For the pride to bear
witness." Draco said, voice soft, as he rocked his baby in his arms.
"Uhm...." Harry said. And Draco laughed out loud.
"Come Harry, surely you aren't going to tell me you are shy? Not the way you
and my father have been seen around the Manor lately." Draco teased. Harry
spluttered, his color not fading one bit.
Mantheer appeared with Cuchlain, freshly washed and re-bundled, and placed the
boy very carefully in Harry's surprised arms.
"Thank you, Mani." Draco lifted his face and accepted the long, sweet kiss his
guardian gave him. He shivered, as the delicious sensations awoke in his body,
anticipation for the moment they would find themselves alone, with Yaji. It was
his turn to blush when Mantheer pulled away, and Draco caught sight of Harry's
grin. Well, he was a mother, sure, but he was still young and very much in
love. With a healthy sexual appetite.
Draco watched the awesome sight of one of his lovers walking away from him. The
man's form was without parallel. So large and powerful, in perfect condition.
When they were together, each time, Draco felt as if his breath was taken away.
All that sinew, muscle and heat....
How strange was it, that he, a man who found women shockingly sexy and wildly
desireable, would be here, in a committed realtionship with two men, who he
loved to distraction. Who he trusted with his life and more importantly with
the lives of his children. He was raising his children with them. Amrys came
around to see the boys often, held them and obviously doted on them, but
Mantheer and Yaji, they were raising the twins. For all intents and purposes,
the twins had one mother and three fathers. And Draco was happy it was that
way.
In fact, Draco would not be surprised if he never took another woman to his
bed. With the way Mantheer and Yaji kept him occupied, he would never find the
energy. Nor, the need. They made it clear they thought of him as theirs. That
they loved him. And he was perfectly happy to have that forever. He sighed,
happily, and kissed Padraig's downy blond curls.
He looked up into Harry's eyes, and they shared a joyful smile. Harry, too, it
seemed, was happy now.
***** Chapter 102 *****
Chapter 102
 
Blaise stood outside of the Slytherin common room and adjusted his tie for the
fourth time. He was not wearing the usual student's robes. He was no longer a
student at Hogwarts after all.
He was here for a very different reason. It made him nervous, though he
repeatedly told himself there was nothing to be nervous about. Fred and George
had tried giving him pep-talks, but even that didn't help all that much. He
wiped his damp palms on the trousers of his day suit.
He had not had time to see Peach in more than a week. They had spoken and sent
Owls almost every day. Mostly about the simple stuff that friends talk about.
How the day has been, what they were going to do the next day, about school.
Nothing too serious. Blaise wanted to change that. And he thought it best to do
it in person.
Peach didn't know a heck of a lot about Blaise's life in the pride. He knew
that Blaise was a were-leopard and he had very recently seen Blaise shift. It
had seemed to thrill him rather than put him off, thankfully.
Still, Blaise was terribly worried it would be too much for the other youth,
and that Peach wouldn't want to stay his friend, or take the next step with
him. And that was difficult for him to think about. He felt strongly for the
other young man. When they were together, he was so aware of the way Peach
smelled, could watch him laugh and smile, or be serious, even study withhim,
and never get tired of it. When he'd played his Quidditch, Peach was always
there, rooting him on, and nothing made Blaise play harder or better.
Blaise had asked for permission to tell Peach more about the pride. Peach had a
right to know what he was getting into if he did decide to get involved with
Blaise. Amrys, the leader he had asked for permission, sat him down and asked
why he should say yes to the request. His face very serious, very concerned.
"I am not sure what you are asking." Blaise replied a bit uncertainly. The
blond man leaned forward and touched the youth's hand. Their eyes met. Amrys'
soft voice began to explain.
"We are your family. I am asking you to tell me why this person deserves to
know our family secrets." Amrys told the young man. "Tell me why you wish to
share such intimate things with an outsider. A non-lycanthrope."
Blaise had to think about that. Answering that question meant he had to face
his feelings openly. "I don't want to mislead him. I want more than to be his
friend, but I want him to know who I am before I ask him to make that kind of
choice."
"Keep going." Amrys encouraged, glad that Blaise was thinking of the other
young man's well-being in this. His deep blue eyes were intent on the younger
man's face.
"He is my best friend outside of the pride." Blaise stopped and thought about
that. Then added to his statement. "I think, he might be my best friend,
including the ones I have in the pride. At least I think so. I think I want him
to be. I don't like having things I can't tell him, things I am not supposed to
share."
"Is this about sex, Blaise?" Amrys asked him quietly. "Desire and lust are
powerful motivators. And not wrong. But, for simple desire...our secrets
shouldn't be shared with all those you want to take to bed."
"I...I haven't, I mean I have thought about it. But, I have not had sex with
him. It is more than that. I hope it is. I want...to spend more time with him.
I want to talk to him, tell him who I really am. Let him know the real me. If
he wants to." The young brunette told his pride's second.
"Friendship outside of the pride is a good thing. Love is more complicated.
Many in the wizarding world do not approve of the way we live. The communal
housing, the way we conduct ourselves and raise our young. How the family
decides if the child will be turned, more than the child. These things, these
ways that we are different, they will all complicate your friendship with this
young man. Are you ready for that?" Amrys probed.
"I don't know. If he doesn't want anything more to do with me, then that will
hurt." Blaise said.
"You are asking permission to court him for admittance to the pride?" Amrys
said back, as if he was finally understanding how Blaise felt.
"Yes. That is it." Blaise said with relief, happy to have his feeling put into
practical terms. Into words and spoken aloud, as if that gave them some little
power, more chance of being made real.
"Courting as a very serious business, kitten. Normally we take new members from
within our own ranks. Adding outsiders is a serous risk. They do not know how
we live. Many feel we are too controlling, that our kings are too strong, and
that we are immoral, little more than beasts. If we had not made a conscious
decision to live more openly in the wizarding world, I would tell you no. But,"
Amrys let out a great sigh. He cupped Blaise's chin in his palm, raising the
boy's face. "We have made the decision, and so, yes, you may try."
"Thank you." Blaise said.
"You have my permission to tell him, but I would advise you to move very
slowly. Have him come to see us here and how we live. Do not hide things from
him, but, do not move to quickly. He may not be comfortable with our lifestyle.
He may not be able to tolerate that you do not sleep alone, nor are you
celibate. So, go slowly. That is my recommendation. But. Remember. I am not the
authority on whether he may find a place with us and be changed. For that you
will have to ask our king. If he proves worthy of you and open to the way we
live. He will be treated as our guest here."
"Yes, second. I understand." And Blaise did. He had hesitated to tell Peach
about his life at the Manor. Nor had he shared that he never slept alone, that
he shared his bed and his body, happily. Blaise recalled very clearly Harry's
horror of learning that. Peach would no doubt feel much the same at first. And
his family.... Blaise had no idea how to approach them, or if he wanted them to
know he was courting their son.
"You will also have to take great precautions with him, and ensure that he will
not be injured or inadvertently changed. Do not think that the situation with
the Chosen's accidental change means we will tolerate more of the same. You
will ensure the boy comes to no harm." Amrys said sternly. "You are young and
you have shown that youth and it's indiscretion very recently in flaunting my
order against returning to Hogwarts. If you can love as an adult and convince
us you are more than a willful kitten, then it is possible your suit for your
friend may be granted. We will watch and see."
"Yes, second. You have my word. I will be careful." Blaise said.
"Good. Because, children are not granted the right to bring a mate in to the
pride. If you wish him to be considered there are rules. If it is only sex you
want and a casual friend, then lay with him. If it is a mate you want, then do
not. He is not to share your body unless he is approved to enter the pride. To
not follow this rule means he will never be granted admission. I expect you to
abide by that, to keep you, him, and the pride safe. Think how the wizards
would react if we accidentally changed one of their own? They will believe they
are not safe in close company with us. Now. How old is this student?" Amrys
inquired, after receiving Blaise's nod and murmured assurance he understood how
important it was that Peach not be risked.
"He is a year behind me. Sixteen." Blaise said.
"Severus will be concerned. I will speak with him. I must tell you again,
because it is critically important, do not rush into a physical relationship
assuming he will be granted status within the pride. Get to know him, let him
know you. Take it slowly. If he is worthy then he will be considered. And he
will wait for you as you wait for him. He is not yet pride, do not treat him as
pride." The second warned. Blaise nodded solemnly. And Amrys continued.
"I know how difficult this is and will be. Loving someone not of the pride is
very hard. Take it slowly. Come to me if you need to talk. In fact I expect you
to talk to me regularly. I would not advise that you share this with the third,
not yet, he has very strong feelings on this subject. He believes it is not
worth the risk at this early juncture. He has advised me to move cautiously
with the Headmaster, and Severus and I are both adults. He would likely order
you not to see the boy again. So, do not seek him out over this." Amrys reached
out and stroked the kitten's hair.
"Perhaps having a moment with Harry to talk of it would not be amiss, however.
The Chosen keeps secrets well, and should Graeme find out...Harry would likely
intervene for you. If you are comfortable speaking with him."
"Well, OK." Blaise thought about it. "I was thinking about talking to Draco?"
He offered.
"A wise choice. The Mother is a good ally to have." Amrys smiled at the thought
of the mother of his children. Draco's nurturing touch might be just what
Blaise needed to steady him on this difficult path.
***** Chapter 103 *****
Chapter 103
 
Harry flipped the pages of the spellbook while he walked. Dull. Deadly dull. He
sighed. After the events surrounding Dumbledore's disgrace he had promised
himself he would do more to cultivate his magic in the interest of being able
to protect the pride. But, it was so dry. Despite his best intentions he was
looking for any excuse to set the book aside.
It gave him a new perspective on the lectures and classes he had attended at
Hogwarts. He had thought many of them unendurable. But compared to this...they
were top line, fantastic, enjoyable. He sighed again. How was one supposed to
learn when teachers and experts couldn't find any way at all to make their
subjects palatable? I mean if the experts couldn't make their favorite studies
interesting, who could? Gahh. He yawned hugely, rotating his slim shoulders,
trying to work out the kinks in his muscles.
He meandered down the long hall, heading for the bathing pool. A nice, hot soak
and he'd feel better, the ache in his neck from bending over and reading the
minute hen-scratch the author of the book called writing, had his whole neck
and shoulders in knots.
He entered the bathing room and carefully set the old book on the stand just
inside the door where it would be safe from water damage. He stretched as he
looked around the steamy room. His eyes lit on a long, coppery swatch of hair
wound into a rope and slung over a man's pale shoulder. The shoulder,
beautifully muscular, belonged to none other than the pride's fierce third,
Graeme. He was nude, and lay on his back, slumbering after a dip in the pool.
His chest rose and fell rhythmically.
Harry eyed the furs, a perfectly Harry sized spot was free next to the sleeping
man. Oh. An afternoon nap. Suddenly, that sounded so much better than the pool.
He crept closer, shedding his robes. He curled into the warm side of the
slumbering man, letting out a happy sigh, snuggling. Perfect. Graeme's arm went
around him.
"Uhm, kitten...."Graeme murmured into the dark, raven curls of Harry's hair.
Harry shivered, a good shiver and settled into the embrace, his eyelids
drifting shut. Warm. Safe. Happy. Sleepy.
 
Hands were moving him. Arms, big and strong, lifting him. Cradling him against
a broad, familiar chest. He burrowed closer as he was carried across the floor.
Good smell, mate smell, he smiled sleepily. It was great to have a sensitive
nose. It meant he could identify the person carrying him without opening his
too heavy eyes. Lucius.
"Book...." He mumbled. Couldn't leave it here. It was old, and valuable, even
if it was so deathly boring. And it belonged to Severus. The professor had
loaned it to Harry with a strange look when the young were-leopard had asked
for it. Harry now understood that look. He'd return the book, and then ask
Snape's advice on what book or scroll to try next. Something less like chewing
on sawdust.
"Graeme has the book. Sleep." Lucius' vibrant, rich voice lulled him into
sleep. He faded away while being rocked by the cadence of the king's rhythmic
step.
He woke to hands stroking him. Gentle hands, rubbing the arches of his feet,
rolling his toes, pressing with firm gentleness, the soles of his feet, until
he let out a very satisfied moan. Wonderful. There was a low laugh at the sound
of his moan, and the fingers kept up their magic touch. Finding spots he had
not known were sore. Working them out, moving on up to his ankles and calves.
God. Such. Bliss.
Those incredible thumbs worked deep into the firm muscles of his lower legs. He
went limp. So, so good. Up to his knees. Done just right, rubbing over the
slightly knobby joints. Harry let out a sigh of pure contentment as the massage
moved up to his thighs. Not tickling, thank goodness, deep and tender and
meltingly what he needed now. Palms cupped his buttocks, his lower back,
finding the tension, smoothing it out.
His back, oh, it was wondrous. He was handled like clay, formed and reformed,
as each tiny trigger point was discovered and brushed away, leaving him so
relaxed he was caught between awake and asleep, limbs heavy, eyes closed,
breath slow and even.
A small kiss, lips warm and dry, brushed over his cheek, wandered to his neck,
where they lingered as Harry found the energy, somehow to arch his throat, and
let the mouth find a patch of skin to nuzzle. The furs were so incredibly soft
under his fingers as he fisted them in reaction to the singing along his
rousing nerves. Nipping kisses down and across his shoulders. Harry arched his
back automatically, pressing his hips upward, feeling thighs, large and strong
straddling him, while the tongue continued it's blessed work down his spine.
Kisses and licks dotted his dimpling skin, his sighing moans coming far more
often as the wet caresses woke him from his languor. Teeth joined the tongue
and lips, biting just right, just hard enough to make his whole body clench,
goose-flesh spread like a wave, he was so hard, straining, pressed into the
luxurious furs as the tongue delved into the top of the crease of his buttocks.
Velvet, moist, teasing him, flickering.
Harry felt himself opened, hips lifted, a soft pillow placed under his pelvis.
Then a wet touch, licking up his inner thigh. Licks. Placed once, twice, at the
point where the curve of his butt met his leg. Warm breath eddying around the
wet line, cooling it. Up the back of his scrotum, soft, velvety skin tightening
at the attention, drawing up and wringing a groan from Harry's lips.
He turned his head to see the gold-silver head of his king, his lover, his own
Chosen, moving over his body. The pink tongue reaching out, Harry let out a cry
at the sight, and Lucius' pale eyes found his. Burning, passion filled, needy,
hot. Harry cried out again, spreading himself wider, dropping his head down,
even as he lifted his hips, arms shaking too hard to do anything but reach out
to the side, spread wide, waiting, waiting....for, oh...just
that...touch...there.... Hips caressed, roundness kissed, bitten, as he ws
positioned. Canting them to the angle that he and Lucius both loved.
Oh, so.....Harry flushed. It was incredible. To be possessed, handled,
pleasured here, like this. He felt, not the prolonged teasing of tongue any
more, what he felt was heat, thickness, what he wanted, entering him. Hands
holding his hips, knees parting his legs further, open without hope of defense,
surrendering, the stretch, being filled, oh.... Yes. Giving in to it... He
whimpered. Felt Lucius' body respond to that, to the sound, shaking, tremoring,
driving in, deep.
The power his lover had, Harry never tired of feeling it surrounding him,
penetrating him, to his very core. He was filled, yes, he was held, and loved,
and taken until his very bones turned to water. The gathering storm of his
orgasm like liquid fire, building in his pelvis sparkling, intense, growing. A
clenching fist. It spilled over him, and he keened his joy, feeling the almost
overwhelming bearing down, fluttering of his body squeezing Lucius, drawing a
shout of release from the larger man, buried inside of him.
Then he was lifted, turned and held. Was there anything better than this? A
large, hand splayed across his lower back, guided him into position. He let out
a gasp of surprise as he was re-entered, his body accepting the hard length,
welcoming it even in the supreme relaxation of post-orgasm. He trembled, the
small spasms not yet completed, made all the more intense by being stretched
once more. He let out his cry of want, of re-awakening desire when Lucius rode
in far, deep, with strength.
Harry bent his neck back, Lucius' teeth finding his vulnerable throat, biting,
worrying it, licking away the exciting sting of nearly too much. Harry
shuddering, wrapping his legs around the waist of his big lover, feeling hands
cupping his buttocks, lifting, thumbs separating him, so the thrust ran to the
deepest point. He mewled at that, at the pleasure cascading, not stopping, his
body, his need spiraling upwards. His tender nipples found, nibbled, sucked, to
aching hard tips.
Lucius smiling, but with serious, intent eyes, looking down, Harry reaching up
and laying a hand, shaking, as he was taken, as his hips turned to jello, as
Lucius turned his head, and sucked the younger man's fingers into his mouth.
Harry gasped, thrusting up to meet Lucius' stroke, then gasped again. Fire and
ice. Swirling, together. Hot, sweet, long, my, god, how...
Harry howled. A long, keening cry of mind blowing, body trembling, nerve
sparkling, rush of tingling repeated release, washing over him, over them. Of
Lucius' bass groan, of his teeth sinking into the flesh of Harry's throat,
marking him, exciting, loss of all control, loss of anything that was not pure
sensation.
Good. Good. Gooooood.................. God. So.........
***** Chapter 104 *****
Chapter 104
 
"Draco." Mantheer came up behind the young man. Draco lifted his head from the
list of names he was compiling. Aside from the pride, there were a number of
others who needed to be asked to attend Harry and Lucius' bonding/wedding.
Persons who could not be called by Lucius as king, yet were important to be
included. Invitations would have to be owled out to them soon.
"What is it?" Draco asked, a smile growing on his face as he looked up into the
rough, masculine face of his leopard. Mantheer grew still at that look. The
adoration and the love in those blue eyes. His hand moved, unbidden, slipping
under Draco's arm, wrapping around to his back, lifting him up out of the
chair, Draco letting out a squeak of surprise.
"Mani!" He gasped out. "I am busy!" But the were-leopard simply pressed a
feather light kiss on his cheek, a second on his ear, catching the lobe in a
tiny nipping bite that sent shivers through Draco, refocusing his attention.
"I want you." Mantheer said, against his ear. "I see you like this, and I need
you so badly that I ache with not having you, my love."
The quill dropped from Draco's fingers no longer important, ink spattering the
tiles in tiny, black droplets, unnoticed. He lifted his arms, winding them
around the tall man's neck. Feeling the muscular body slide along his own, as
he was lifted a fraction higher, so their lips could meet. Clinging in the
softest of passionate kisses. Lasting less than a second, but an eternity of
feeling passing between them.
Draco almost protested looking over his shoulder, back at his unfinished work.
Then Mantheer placed him on top of the furs and lay over him. Draco shivered,
face up under the larger man, enveloped by him, feeling the puffs of heated
breath at the base of his throat. He let out a soft sigh, giving in, arching up
into the love bite. The sheer size of his great lover stunning each time they
lay together.
Mantheer's teeth grazed his skin, careful, agonizingly sharp, electric. The
tremors shooting sparklingly bright through Draco. The big hands moved pale
blond hair aside, and nuzzled the soft skin at Draco's throat, in the crook
where shoulder met neck, where the pulse already beat wildly. He licked the
spot, slow and sensual, savoring the taste of Draco, musky, sweet, warm and
with a faint tang of salt, and growing arousal. Mantheer growled.
"You are mine. Ours. I want to have you, now." Mantheer told the youth, "I want
to bury myself inside of you." Draco shivered.
"Oh...." Draco let out the sound, his body going heavy upon hearing the sound,
the deep rumble through his skin as much as his hearing, his head falling back,
his arms opening, giving himself over to his larger lover, shivering as he felt
the man smile against his skin.
Draco felt the neck of his robe being lowered, inch by slow inch, as Mani
nuzzled his nose down Draco's chest, pressing his warm lips to each square inch
of fevered skin, until it dimpled into goose-bumps. Draco sighed, a shuddering,
uneven release of breath, not moving, melting into the furs, boneless, nothing
more important that the sensation of being loved. Mantheer kept up the slow
exploration. A lick, as kiss, a bite, so careful.
Draco whimpered when Mantheer's hands closed on his hips. His drawers were
lowered, slowly, tossed aside, his robe not taken away, but spread out around
him, a wash of blood red crimson, in the dark furs of the bed, and he, so milk
pale in sharp contrast, lay like a panting, lusty gift among it all. The neck
of the robe, the sleeves, trapping his arms tight to his body, restraining him
from movement, from reaching out to touch, though he yearned to do so.
Kisses fell over his face, his chest, his tight pale nipples, he groaned, a
light sighing sound, breathless, needy. Mantheer's response, to lave his tongue
across the edge of one of those so sensitive nubs. Draco sighed again,
squirmed, lifting his chest higher, wanting the mouth to take it, his beaded
nipple, into the heat and suckle him. Mantheer licked him. Draco moaned.
Mantheer licked. Draco raised one leg, wrapped it around the were-leopard,
pressed himself, hard under the thin silk, up into Mani's belly. The hand on
his buttock, under the robe, squeezed, a gentle flex. And Mantheer licked.
"Mani!" Draco cried out. "Please, taste me..."
When teeth grazed the pale nipple, Draco let out a mewling cry, trembling, his
hands still caught as if tied, unable to reach out, unable to win free, a
captive. Nipping bites trailed all over his pectoral, the aureole and at last,
his nipple. Mantheer lifted him, lapped at him, made Draco squirm. Opening his
legs, hoping that the big man, his lover, would touch him, take all of him,
suck him harder.
Mantheer's hands clenched, raising Draco, rubbing against him, slow and
deliberate, parting his legs, wide, letting Draco feel the long, stiff rod of
flesh waiting for him, wanting him, wanting to sink into him, so deep they
would both groan at the feel of it. Would cry out their passion and need.
Draco whispered his desire. Begging in puffs of breath against Mantheer's hair
for the big man to prepare him, and then slide into him, inch by glorious inch
until he was filled to bursting. The memory was never so strong, so
overwhelming as the experience. As the feel of himself being taken, ridden,
pleasured to madness.
Draco was reminded of that fact, because Mantheer did taste him. Tongue laving
at him, hot, wet and distracting, bringing his breath up short, nearly a scream
as he wished he could find the strength to push himself up onto all fours, or
just lift his hips an somehow capture what he craved, to open himself, to beg.
But he didn't have the will to do any thing but lay submissive, needy, as
Mantheer placed him, to feel the tongue that made love to him, that tickled and
danced on his skin.
"Uhhhh." Draco had no words to describe how he felt, was feeling. He was held,
his hips high, fingers sweeping over the dimples of his hips, while his nipple
was feasted upon. Shaking with the deliberate, slow, lingering licks across one
nipple then the other, to his neck, teeth sinking in, a gentle bite, not enough
to draw blood, just enough to send him reeling from the surge of pure
adrenaline filled lust.
Mantheer's hands, his fingers, dipped into the crease of his body, roving up
the vulnerable, soft mass of his scrotum, toe curlingly intense, pressing
there, rolling the tender orbs until Draco nearly cried with the sensation,
wanting more, wanting all. Soft as a breath, Mantheer touched the crinkle of
flesh, the portal that protected the inside of Draco's body, the intimate
center of him. The touch stayed, soft, insanely so, Draco, caught, unable to
move, unable to take more without help, pinned, waiting, waiting, for the man
to give him what it was he promised.
The touch was slick, wet. Lingering, almost imperceptibly moving inside, Draco
sighing with the motion, the advance that was opening him, slow, sweet,
slippery wet, under the robe, out of sight. Only a sliver of white flesh
showing down the front of his hips, his arousal there, hard, white, throbbing,
Mantheer's hand hidden beneath.
Then, barely prepared, Draco felt the different pressure, the size, so large,
so rigid, so demanding. He was shocked anew at the girth of his lover. He
rolled his head side to side, sweat dewing on his lip. Mantheer moved,
suddenly...there, pressing, slow and inevitable, sinking in, Draco, stunned at
the sensation the frighteningly wonderful feel of being filled, of the growing
pressure, dilating him. His body flowering open.
The feel of it overwhelmed everything. He could not think, he did not care, the
world narrowing down to this, to Mantheer, over him. Mantheer in him.
Mantheer's lips finding his, kissing, tongues twining, lazy licks every bit as
slow as the piercing of his body.
Draco fisted his hands in the thick furs. Held on. The progression of their
coupling almost too slow, almost too much, the nibbling kisses on his mouth all
that kept him aware, sane. Oh, Merlin! Had they ever gone this deep? Had he
been taken to this point, his hips canted just so, his body unresisting,
accepting this. Done.
It was done. He was taken. He was theirs, Mantheer's, his. All of him, heart,
body and soul. As if no part of him could now be untouched, the cry that tore
from him was long and trembling sweet. Mantheer lifted his head, looked down at
him, and withdrew. Draco moaned, head tossing back and forth. Hips lifting
trying to keep what he had, the incredible fullness, slipping away. He mewled
his loss, Mantheer licking the sound away.
And back, in. "Ohhhhhhhhhh........." Draco felt the big body come closer,
pressing tight, impossible. Belly to belly.
"Ride me, little love. Take me." Mantheer growled into his ear, nuzzling the
curled edge. Draco fought to obey, fought to move himself on that column of
flesh. "Yes. Like that."
Mantheer helped him, rode him. Like the tide into him, pulling back only to
return. His plan could only be to drive the young man to madness, to screaming
ecstasy. Draco writhed. Wanting it, all of it. The powerful rhythm, the
pounding of their hearts.
He cried out as Mantheer brought him to the edge, played his body like a wild,
wanton thing. Yet with such love that there was no shame, just hot, crazy love,
transformed into burning lust, into wild heaving bodies, thrusting and taking,
begging cries, until the edge.
It rose and took them, took him, Draco screaming his release, his body seizing
his lover, taking him over, as they tumbled together. Gasping, panting, jetting
heat, liquid, melting hot, oh so good, and well, insanely well done.
***** Chapter 105 *****
Chapter 105
 
Blaise adjusted the bow tie nestled against the base of Peach's throat. Peach
stretched his neck out as long as he could, peering around Blaise's bulk and
into the mirror. He felt a little overdressed, especially when he looked at
Blaise, who was wearing robes that were loose and flowing in a gold edged honey
and amber streaked silk. Blaise looked so good Peach had to almost force his
eyes back to checking his own reflection. He swallowed hard. He looked
so...ordinary.
He was dressed in black, a nice suit, white shirt, a green and silver bow tie,
very Slytherin. He tried over and over to tie the darned thing, finally giving
up and asking for Blaise's help. Blaise, with his long, agile fingers had no
trouble tying the infernal thing. Now he stroked it as he stepped back so Peach
could see the full effect. It was done right, but it still made Peach feel...so
normal. Not like Blaise who looked so...stupendous, so different, so grown up.
He looked so formal, he thought. He glanced over at Blaise again. Unlike the
relaxed, utterly masculine beauty of his friend Blaise, who looked like a young
foreign prince, Peach thought. Not like a school boy dressed up for graduation
or the like. He sighed.
"What is wrong?" Blaise asked, giving in to the urge to brush a lock of hair
away from Peach's face. Peach instinctively leaned into the almost caress,
flushing with pleasure. Only just stopping the reaction he was sure would upset
Blaise, turning his face into the hand and planting a kiss there. If only, he
thought. If only I dared.
"I look...uh, stiff? I mean you look awesome. I wish I had something like that.
Dressed up but not so uncomfortable." Peach said, frustrated. Blaise considered
him seriously. Peach looked great.
"We tend to lounge around on pillows rather than chairs," Blaise said,
explaining. "Or furs. Suits would be a bit uncomfortable." He further
explained, shaking out the voluminous folds of his robes. Showing Peach ow much
extra room ther was. "If it wasn't such an important gathering, most of us
would be wearing just the pants."
Peach fought to keep that image from taking over all his brain and body. His
skin tightened all over, from head to foot, just imagining it. He turned
slightly, but kept his eyes on Blaise's handsome face. "Oh," He said.
Swallowing again for the tenth time or more. Blaise, the athlete, in nothing
but pants, his strong, glorious chest bare. Peach caught himself before he let
out the moan of longing that was building in his throat.
"You OK Peach?" Blaise asked worried. "I thought it would be fun to go to the
wedding, that you would have fun, I mean. But I can understand if you'd rather
not."
The disappointment was not possible to hide, filling his voice as he thought of
Peach not there. He was more convinced than ever that Peach, his classmate from
Hogwarts, was his one true love. He knew he was terribly young to decide such a
thing. They were both young, but he was so sure. His heart beat strongly when
Peach was near. When his sunset eyes looked deep into his own, Blaise felt
energized, alive. When he thought of kissing Peach, it was Blaise's turn to
swallow hard.
"No, no, Blaise. I want to go with you. I do. It's just...I wish I had
something like your clothes to wear." Peach said, breathless under the look
Blaise was giving him. Oh, god, he wanted to put his hand up to cup the
handsome face, to have the right to kiss him. One sweet, long, lasting kiss.
Just one. Please, Merlin. This time he couldn't stop the small hungry sound he
let out. But he lowered his eyes quickly, turning back to the mirror.
"I think one of my littermates might have something to fit you. Maybe Harry.
He's just about your size." Blaise said quickly, the idea of Peach in his
pride's robes....
"Oh! I couldn't! He's your pride's Chosen! You've told me what that means. How
could wear his clothes?" Peach said awestruck by the very idea. The Chosen was
like a prince in Peach's mind. He couldn't run around borrowing clothes from a
prince, even if it was Harry Potter, who he'd spoken to now and again at
school. Blaise laughed.
"He's not like that, you know how he is. He'll be fine with it." Blaise held
out his hand automatically, forgetting Peach was not one of them, a
lycanthrope. He froze, hand out, waiting to see what would happen. Peach didn't
hesitate. He grabbed his friend's hand, his palm a tiny bit sweaty. Blaise
thought he would melt into the floor, a big, wet, crazily in love puddle right
there and then. He gently squeezed the hand that he held. "Come on." He managed
to get out, tugging the willing Peach out of the room.
They raced down the busy halls. Blaise wondering if he would even be able to
tell, or better yet to show Peach how the pride really lived. If he could
someday tell him that he, Blaise, Stephen, Fred, George, Harry, and Ron and the
others sometimes slept all together, naked and warm, in a pile of tangled
limbs. Would he ever be so lucky as to have Peach understand what it was to
truly be of the Pride? Would Peach ever sleep next to him, and the others?
Blaise gulped at the vision that sent to his spinning brain.
Unlike at Hogwarts no one told them to stop running, Peach noticed. There were
indulgent smiles. And called out greetings. But no threats of detention, of
point's being deducted as they flew down the hall. It was amazing, how, just
holding Blaise's hand, Peach felt he ran so much faster than he ever had
before. He also knew he was grinning from ear to ear.
Far too soon they skidded to a stop outside of a room with the voices of
several young males filtering out. Blaise led Peach inside without hesitation.
Many eyes met theirs, but no one acted as if they were intruding. Hands reached
out, and arms, hugging Blaise's if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Peach was included in the group hugs, as if he belonged, solely on the basis of
his being with Blaise.
"Hey, what's up?" One of the boys asked.
"I want to see if there are any robes to fit Peach. He is a little too
uncomfortable in the suit." Blaise said, pulling back from the many armed hug,
tucking Peach in under his arm, making it clear how he felt to his littermates.
Peach was special to him, far beyond simple friendship. The other kittens in
the room saw that at once and adjusted their actions with the practice of years
of living in at least two separate worlds with very different customs. No
overly familiar touching of the boy. No cuddling, unless Blaise made sure Peach
was comfortable.
"Here, try this." Fred Weasley said from the outer reaches of the group. "It'll
fit him I bet, and bring out his eyes as well." The tall red head said, handing
over a pair of loose black pants and an upper robe of red, orange, yellow and
black streaks. Blaise took it, handing it to Peach.
"Want to try it? He asked, suddenly aware of Peach's need to change here, among
strangers. He hoped the younger boy would not be self conscious He moved to
shield Peach partially, with his much larger frame. Peach, to his relief,
seemed not to even think before tearing at his bow tie, the same one that had
taken so long to tie, pulling it off and then divesting himself of the rest of
his suit. Blaise grinned. Screw the tie! He told himself, thrilled Peach was
going to be wearing the pride's robes, like a pride member. Like
Blaise's...beloved. 'Someday, be patient!' He told himself silently.
"Works best without the shoes and socks and the shorts." Stephan added, and
once again Blaise held his breath to see what Peach would do, if he'd flinch.
Peach just removed the said items tossing them in a heap and scrambling into
the robes with Blaise helping him adjust the drape around his hips and
shoulders.
He could smell the heat and the happiness from his friend's body, Blaise
realized. Peach was having a good, time, enjoying being here. Something big and
wonderful swelled in his chest. He hugged Peach to his side, turning and
presenting him to the others. There was a brief, assessing silence for a
moment, then nodding heads. The tunic brought out the color of the youth's
sunset eyes, turning them into blazing pools. The rather average school boy
doing dress up turned into a handsome young man. Blaise beamed with enraptured
pride at the admiration his littermates were showing.
Peach felt unaccountably shy for a second as he waited to see the reaction, his
face tucked in against Blaise's powerful shoulder. Blaise was so big, he made
Peach, who was small for his age, feel so safe, and for the first time in his
life, happy he was small, that he fit so perfectly under Blaise's arm, his face
into the crook of his shoulder and chest. He reveled in the heat of the big
body against his cheek.
"He's lovely." George Weasley said, draping his own arm over Fred's shoulder,
resting his chin on his twin, and looking Peach up and down. "Just like one of
us." He continued raising his eyes to meet Blaise's seeing the happy flush that
statement brought to his littermate's face.
"If we hurry, we can get a bit to eat before the rest of them get there." Ron
said, breaking into the short silence. "You look great, Peach. Come on, I'm
hungry." And he headed out, robes fluttering behind him, followed but the rest
of them, chattering away like any group of youths who knew each other well, in
fact intimately.
"You are always hungry." Stephen said.
"You OK?" Blaise asked Peach, taking advantage of the moment of distraction as
everyone piled out of the room ahead of them. Peach nodded, filled with happy
excitement.
"Better than anything." He replied. He'd do anything, go anywhere, if Blaise
would just keep the arm around him, touching him.
"Then let's go." Blaise smiled down. His eyes sparkling as he took in the
bright cheeks, and parted lips, full and tempting, and....waiting. He didn't
even think before he lowered his head and did what was perfectly natural. What
he'd wanted to do for months, most of a year, actually.
He kissed his friend, gently, trembling, soft and sweet on those lovely lips.
Tasted him, smelled him, felt the gasp of shock against his own mouth, and
nearly fainted, thinking he'd gone to far, when Peach's arms went up and around
his neck, holding him, keeping their mouths fused, in the most innocent, loving
and wonderful kiss, Blaise could ever remember.
***** Chapter 106 *****
Chapter 106
 
Severus Snape, Potion's Master, and newly Headmaster of Hogwarts, poured
himself a cup of tea letting it cool a bit while he selected the robes he'd
wear for the ceremony. Amrys had gifted him with several, beautiful replicas of
the pride's traditional robes and Severus thought it only fitting he wear them
to the pride's function rather than one of his stiffly formal tailored suits.
His concentration was so great that he never noticed the ghostly form of the
eavesdropping Peeves floating in the air watching him with blatant interest and
curiosity. The little ghost drifted in closer as he watched the Headmaster
pondering the many colors of silk hanging in his closet. He had taken to
hanging around Snape when the man was at Hogwarts, admiring the energy and
industry of the new head of the school.
Snape turned and Peeves, knowing how Snape would hate discovering he was being
watched, almost an echo of what had happened to the young students here for
years at the hands of Dumbledore....decided to hide. The little ghost wiggled
his way into the shelves of potions and herbs so carefully arranged there by
Snape's exacting and organized hand. He fit tightly into the space, discovering
not for the first time that ghosts could cramp up just as easily as the
corporeal persons. But at least he was well hidden.
He squirmed a little as Snape drew the robes over his head, admiring the long,
lean form as it disappeared under loose, flowing robes of deliciously soft and
richly expensive handwoven silk. The man's very posture had changed, no longer
stiff, he now moved with an upright grace. Peeves was amazed that being in love
could so change a man like Severus Snape.
The dark, blue-black color he chose brought out the incredible paleness of the
Potion's Master's skin, and made his hair glisten, like a black fire was
highlighting his lengthening hair. His dark eyes snapped with vitality. He
looked really very handsome, Peeves thought, and years younger, taller,
broader. He wriggled a bit more as Snape strode into his bathroom, disappearing
from view.
All that wriggling...Peeves felt something give, and his eyes caught the small
vial as it dropped off the shelf, his hand darted out and he caught it in mid
fall, but the stopper fell out, bouncing down to strike the table on which the
cooling cup of tea sat, bouncing high again, before ending behind the table,
out of sight.
Peeves let out a small gasp of horror as he watched what else fell, a few
crystalline drops of the potion from the uncapped vial, plop, plop, in the tea.
He let out a whimper, thinking that he must spill the tea before the man drank
it. As he watched a faint release of mist rose up....then Peeves heard Severus
coming back out into the open. He did the only thing he could, he
dematerialized before he was discovered and had to explain himself, and what he
was doing, to an enraged wizard.
Severus Snape absently reached for his tea, sipping it. He frowned, tried
another sip. The leaves must have been old, there was s faintly bitter, musty
taste lingering on his tongue. He carried the brewed tea the the sink and
dumped it. He would have to get a new supply in. Washing the cup and leaving it
on the side board. Then he headed out of the door, carefully sealing the wards
behind him. He was resplendent in the floor length silk, a tall regal form that
would drawn almost any eye.
Peeves materialized two floors away, shaking violently, chiding himself for
making yet another bad choice, He should have taken his medicine and confessed
the the professor. But it was too late now. He peered down at the tiny vial in
his hands struggling to read the precise but cramped writing on the minute
label.
The size of the label and the vial was actually a frightening thing, it meant
whatever the potion was, it required only a minute amount to be effective, or
that the ingredients were so rare that Hogwarts could only afford a fraction of
them. Peeves knew either reality did not bode well for him, he floated over to
a window hoping the better light would make the reading easier. When he
squinted, there next to the window, he could just make out the words. He
gasped, dropping the vial with a clink, it shattered on the flagstones. Oh,
gods, what had he done? He streaked towards the dungeon chambers, praying to
Merlin he was not too late to reach Snape before he left the school grounds.
Peeves was less than a corridor away when he heard and felt the apparation
spell that let him know Snape was out of his reach. He let the sob that was
rising in his throat out. Oh, gods. Snape would kill him for this.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Severus apparated into the Malfoy Manor rubbing his belly. He wished he had
finished his tea now. Or had a sliver of plain toast. He hadn't eaten in hours,
and having something on his stomach might have soothed it. His lower stomach
was a bit upset, roiling, like a restless snake was twisting and turning
through his guts. All trembly. Which was not a word he habitually used when
describing himself in any way, shape, or form. Yet it was entirely accurate
this time. His insides felt trembly, anxious, empty. Restless. He drew in a
deep breath.
"Sev." The warm voice of Amrys came from behind him as the were-leopard walked
towards him, gorgeous in gold silk, breathtaking. The unsteady feeling faded as
if it had never been and a new feeling replaced it. Wanting, needing, desire.
Snape had to touch him. Had to.
Snape slid his arms around the tall, muscular form, wanting to be close, not
wanting to be reserved, not now. He lifted his mouth, offering and Amrys never
hesitated, taking him up on his unexpectedly offered lips, teasing his mouth
with a kiss, possessive, deep, drawing a groan from the wizard. He reveled in
the embrace, sinking his pale hands into the thick, blond hair of his love.
Rubbing his scalp with adoring fingertips.
Then Snape heard a soft laugh from beside them. And sanity flooded back. They
were in a crowded room in a crowded manor, waiting to see a royal bonding
ceremony that was essentially the most important marriage in Snape's lifetime.
And here he was, snogging in plain view of all the guests who cared to look.
Not a position for the respected and very new Headmaster to take. He drew back,
face flushed, straightening his robes, feeling the heat rise up his chest and
neck, ending in his face. Amrys chuckled. Caressing the kiss swollen lips with
a gentle thumb when Severus drew back.
"I love your passion, little mouse," the were said, running affectionate
fingers through his lover's black locks. He loved that Severus was growing his
hair, letting the strands go unchecked, untrimmed, until they reached past his
shoulders. If Amrys had his way, they would soon cascade all the way to his
hips, so that when the two of them coupled, they would do so on a bed of the
wizard's lush hair, fanned out under his surrendering body. "I do not care who
knows that you are mine, Severus."
Snape cleared his throat, forcing himself to drop his hand, and put a few
inches between them. Instantly the gnawing in his gut resumed. He pressed a
hand over his belly, and drew in another calming breath. The scent of Amrys was
so close, so rich, so tempting, he would give anything for privacy, for enough
time to feel that tall strong body possessing his, delving deep into him. Sweat
sprang out all over his skin at the vision of it.
Amrys sniffed at the air, the pheromones were strong coming up off of his
beloved wizard, and it made him want to growl, to step close and claim him.
Even as he thought it, Amrys found his hands reaching out across that small
amount of space the man had put between them. Dragging the man back up against
his body, burying his nose in the sweet smelling hair, the curve of his neck.
Merlin preserve him, Snape had never smelled so good before.
Amrys lifted him, carrying him down the hall and into an empty room. The furs
were just inside the door and he made use of them, putting Snape on top of
their softness, his hands going to the ties of the robes and loosening them,
pushing the floating silk off the pale shoulders so his mouth could wander over
hotly desired flesh.
Severus moaned, arching up into the touch, arms outflung, knees already up,
open, inviting. Amrys did not waste the invitation, he moved between the spread
thighs.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Peeves wasted about ten minutes agonizing over what to do. Flying ever faster
back and forth in the unoccupied room he'd materialized in. Then it hit him.
The perfect solution. Professor Lupin. The wizard was kind,disinclined to yell
and would know what to do. He was also less likely to blast Peeves into true
oblivion than just about anyone else.
Peeves streaked towards Lupin's quarters, desperately hoping that the wizard
was there. He burst through the door without knocking, catching the slender man
in the midst of dressing, startling a yelp out of the shocked werewolf.
"Help! Help!" Peeves yelped, frantically, waving his see-through arms, wildly.
"Professor...Headmaster Snape... he is in danger! You have to stop him! He
drank the tea, and he is gone. I can't help him!"
Remus Lupin willed his racing heartbeat to more normal ranges, before his heart
leapt out of his body, and felt behind him for the arm of his chair. He sank
into it as Peeves babbled on, clearly in some sort of distress. He held up a
long fingered pale hand. He would get nothing concrete until he manged to calm
the apparition. He kept his voice quiet and soothing.
"Slow down, Peeves. Tell me what has happened, exactly." Lupin knew that
Severus was at the Manor early, ready for the ceremony that would commence very
soon. The one Lupin himself had been dressing to attend.
"Help! Help!" Peeves howled once more. Lupin sighed, pulling out his wand and
waving it as he spoke a calming spell. The effect on the small ghost was
immediate. Peeves began snoring loudly. It was so difficult to measure the
amount of magics needed to work on a ghost. Remus tried again, and was rewarded
with a tiny moan. He sat forward, touching the ghost with the tip of his wand.
Peeves shuddered violently, but opened his fluttering eyes.
"Now, Peeves, tell me what has happened. There is no need to panic." He
soothed, his gentle tone finally reaching the other.
"Ohhhhh, Professor, I have runined everything. I didn't mean to, I was just
watching him, admiring him. He is so different than the man he was. He is so
beautiful now." Peeves was weeping ghostly tears.
Lupin reflected that he would not precisely call Severus Snape beautiful, but
the man certainly had a commanding presence that had only grown stronger in
these last few months. "Shhh. What has gone wrong?" He urged quietly,
determined to find out what had the ghost in such a state.
Peeves let out a wail of words. "I knocked over a vial, and it fell into the
Headmaster's tea. I am sorry, I didn't mean...."
"What vial? What was in it?" Remus asked, suddenly feeling almost as anxious as
the ghost. A premonition of disater racing through him.
Peeves told him. And Remus paled further, hand pressing to his chest in an
effort to contain his pounding pulse.
"Oh....shit." He said, very uncharacteristically, but perfectly appropriate in
this instance. He stood, and without delay apparated to the Manor, barefoot,
and coatless, his bow tie, untied, the ends dangling around his neck.
There was no time to waste.
***** Chapter 107 *****
Chapter 107
 
Severus couldn't concentrate, couldn't think beyond the hands on his skin, his
body hungering for more. He shifted on the soft furs, tickling his back as he
was pressed down, writhing.
His body was bursting with need. He felt so empty, his insides yawning wide, as
if reaching for something, desperately needed, craved, and wanted, something
vital to him, something he could not define. He shook his head, rocking it from
side to side. Need was tearing him apart.
Hands touched him, held him and turned him. Sweet lips slid over his damp
cheek, lingered on his own panting mouth. Delved inside, claiming him with a
single instant of blessed ease.
There was love, yes, he knew that, but even love could not compete with hunger
like this. He shuddered, aching, fingers knotting in the silk that brushed
them. He felt warmth and smelled the scent that was his lover, his Amrys. And
the craving grew.
He arched his body, long and lean, up into the hold of those strong, loving
arms, hearing words but not comprehending. Feeling the puff of air on his
cheek, each word a warm burst, meaning lost. The golden lights glinting off of
blond hair, dazzling his blinking eyes.
He burned, the only balm in all that unrelenting heat, was the cool hand of his
lover stroking and holding him, turning him and touching him, slick, careful
fingers preparing him, then long slow and cool, Amrys entering him, answering
his prayer, as if sinking into warmed honey, thick, rich and sweet, elevating
him to bliss.
As he heard himself beg and plead for just this, then Amrys' voice soothing
him, telling him yes, giving him what he needed. Over and over, the need not
ending, the hunger growing, into pain.
Amrys kissed him, licking his lips, biting and nipping, driving him wild as he
rode into his body, sending shivers over the whole of Snape's skin, plunging in
deep. Only that deep, thick stroke filled Snape with satisfaction. Eased him.
He burned, so hot, like nothing he had felt before. The need rising and falling
like a tide inside his body, his belly still achingly empty, waiting. Waiting,
waiting.
Amrys was worried, this animal wildness, this desperate edge was not like his
passionate lover, not his Snape. The dark haired man writhed under him, legs
spread wide, hands out flung, head craning up and back. Baring the smooth, damp
skin of his throat, where Amrys kissed him, laved up the light sweat, tasted
the desire, and sucked it into his mouth. Severus screamed.
His hips thrust up, the sheath of his body giving way in spasms, a lusty
massage against Amrys' tender parts as the Potions Master sprayed out his seed,
not losing any of his stiffness, or his gnawing craving for the strong golden
skinned body that was taking him up over the edge of pleasure into howling
bliss.
Amrys' tried to soothe him, tried to stroke him into calm, tried to bring him
gently down, but Severus heaved up and fastened his mouth over the lush lips of
his own wereleopard, kissing, kissing, tasting and laving, tongue fighting.
Eating the kiss almost as if it were food rather than flesh.
Amrys knew, something was very, very wrong. He gave Severus what he begged for,
while his mind raced furiously. His hands never forgetting how much he adored
this man, even as the demands grew ever wilder, ever more primal, more painful,
purely sexual, purely physical, with no answering tenderness on the part of the
ravenous body under his. Amrys put his head down and hung on.
^^^^^^^^^^
Remus, half dressed, apparated into the center of the great hall, looking
around wildly, whirling around in a circle, agitation rolling off of him in
waves. His heart trip-hammered, where? He thought, where? Where was Severus
Snape? Was it too late?
Suddenly he was not alone in the middle of the room, as tall guardian were-
leopards appeared. One, two, then three, towering, huge, forbidding, scowling
at his state of anxiety, suspicious in that way all warriors charged with
security of a beloved leader and a beloved people are. He flapped his hands at
them, they narrowed eyes at him.
"I need to find Professor Snape!" He exclaimed, springing forward, hands out
stretched, trying to control his anxiety, seeing what it was doing to his
chances of getting further into the Manor. He clawed at the chest of the giant
he bumped in to, saw a flash of fangs.
"Please!" Begged the normally tranquil wizard. "I must find him before it is
too late! He's been drugged! Accidentally of course, but he must be stopped
before...." He blinked up into the granite face, "...before it is too late..."
He finished weakly.
Three heads whipped around, all looking in the same direction, ears perked up,
nostrils flaring. Remus turned that way, looking frantically for...then he
heard it, the distant scream, deep and longing, telegraphing ecstasy, joy,
wanton needs met, unmet, and wild abandon. Release. Orgasm. And...Severus
Snape. An odd combination, in his mind.... Remus Lupin leaped in the direction
from which the sounds came. Springing, supple and swift as a gazelle. Or a wolf
in the cat's house...
He ran, hearing without registering consciously, that feet followed him, rapid
and deadly, hunter's tread. He knew in his primitive brain hands were reaching
out, to stop him, to grasp him, and he wriggled left then right, evading the
power in those hands. A wolf in a man's skin. They could smell him, his
difference, and not for the first time Remus cursed his wolf's curse. If they
stopped him because of it, then Severus.... it would be too late for Severus.
He raced on. All the while heading for the gasping moans. Voices shouted, and
suddenly he ran into a wall. His breath slamming out of his lungs, dizzying. A
vise fastened around his waist, lifting him high. And he knew why they hadn't
caught him, they had been letting him head this way, until he was captured in
their trap. He groaned.
His feet were high up off the ground, dangling and kicking as the message he
was no longer running, no longer able to sprint towards his colleague and help,
registered more slowly. He squirmed, was lifted to face a frowning, grim face.
He recognized it, he had seen it before, if he could but remember.....he patted
those lean, strong cheeks with nervous hands. Pat, pat, pat. What was this
man's name?
"Help, help, help." Remus Lupin said. "Help, help, help."
"What is this all about?" The deep voice asked. And the voice was the last key.
"Mantheer!" He gasped, panting for breath, finding more words. It was Draco's
Mantheer. He could help. "It's Severus!" He gulped as the expression changed to
concern, not to promised retribution.
"What about Severus?" Rumbled the voice, Lupin felt it vibrate in that deep
chest against his torso.
"Mani?" It was Draco, coming up behind the big man. Remus almost fainted. He
turned his pleading gaze onto the boy.
"He drank a potion by accident. S-s-p-p-p-pilled into his t-t-t-tea. Please, I
must do a counter spell to protect him. It will drive him mad until he is-s-s-
s-s-s....." Remus abruptly stared at all the openly curious faces gathered
around. So many. All listening. Glittering eyes of every color, none fully
human, all feline. Severus would not be pleased to hear his business bandied
about like this. "Please, I need to get to him, soon!" Remus ended lamely.
"Who, drank what?" Draco asked, taking a step closer, stopping only when the
guardian, Mantheer, growled a warning to him to stay back. Draco didn't believe
he was in any danger from Professor Lupin, but he heeded Mani and stopped. He
asked again. "Who? What did he drink?"
"Snape. Severus. Professor Snape." He gasped, wondering why he couldn't catch
his breath.
"Snape is in trouble?" Draco asked, alarm painting his beautiful pale, pale
features. "What did he drink?"
"The whole vial. The whole vial! Into his tea! It is dosed in drops, not vials
full! I need to get to him, to find out how much he drank, Peeves didn't know
how much...."
"Peeves?" Draco puzzled. He couldn't think how the ghost fit into the
conversation, but he knew Lupin was seriously concerned. He looked up at the
frowning face of his guardian leopard. "We need to find Snape." He said, his
light blue eyes wide.
Mantheer was well versed in real versus imagined emergencies. He had seen this
professor calmly deal with enraged were-wolves and leopards and keep his cool.
Whatever the problem was, it was a real problem. And add to that, Draco was
worried. It was more than enough. He nodded, tucking Remus under one arm and
heading off towards the screams. His long legs eating up the distance.
^^^^^^^^^^^^
The fire was not going out. His skin felt like it was peeling off, Severus
needed to be touched, licked, caressed, to be filled, to be taken, long and
hard. The momentary relief achieved with his last orgasm was gone, and now he
moaned, clawing at Amrys, trying to draw the man closer, deeper into his body.
Amrys was talking to him, asking things, and Severus wanted to answer, he
really did, but he could not. He didn't understand a word of it, any of it.
"No." He said. "No, more, please. No." He was babbling to his unending horror.
He never babbled, never tripped over his tongue, words coming too fast to
escape his mouth in clarity.
"Sev," Amrys called out to the sweating, writhing man. He smoothed the tangled
locks out of the way, so he could see the dark, nearly black eyes, glazed with
lust, not his Severus, not him at all. Amrys tried to soothe him, tried to get
through to him, murmuring his name, over and over. Snape wrapped his legs
around the wereleopard's hips, squeezed tight.
"No, no, no...." It went on and on, and he thrashed, even as he grabbed Amrys,
held him, tried to ride that long thickness still inside of him. Not moving.
Why wasn't it moving? He had to have it. Had to feel it doing what he needed it
to do. He had to be filled to overflowing. Maybe that would be enough. He
reared up, screaming into the horrified face bending over him. "Why did you
stop?!"
***** Chapter 108 *****
Chapter 108
 
Severus was propped up against a mountain of pillows and furs. Amrys was seated
at his side, expression worried. He held the pale hand of his adored human
lover, Snape's hand was convulsed around that of the wereleopard, clinging
tightly. Severus was a bit shy about being touched in front of others, but
Amrys was working on getting him used to it. And given what had just happened,
Sev was just going to have to put up with a hovering and concerned lover.
Amrys had been absolutely panicked, a very unusual state for him, when faced
with the insatiable Severus. It had quickly turned from a fun romp and roll in
the furs to him being afraid for the wizard's mind and safety. Love and lust he
could take, but being unable to alleviate the need in Severus had been
frightening. Draco and Remus showing up when they did had been Merlin sent.
Amrys had run out of ideas.
"Where on earth did such a potion come from?" Lucius growled angrily, standing
next to the bed that held the resting wizard. Harry sat beside his former
professor, looking over the paler than normal features with continuing concern.
He dabbed at the sweat beaded brow with a square of cool toweling, marveling
that the older man was allowing himself to be fussed over at all.
"Did you mix it up?" Harry was more direct than the king of the leopards.
Though he couldn't imagine Snape mixing up a potion with the actions of the one
he'd taken. Remus Lupin had outlined the contents of the small vial and Harry
had blanched, thinking of how horrible it would be to feel that degree of need
wash over him. Of having to turn to many, many men to slake his lust. It had
nearly happened to Snape. If Lupin had not apparated in with an effective
counter spell.....Harry shivered. There was no dignity in the vision that
Harry's mind came up with. He took a deep breath. It hadn't turned out that
way. Professor Lupin had come to the rescue soon enough.
"It was from Albus' personal potions. I found it in his office and I kept it,
meaning to have it analyzed, until that was possible, I put it in my quarters
for safe keeping. High up on a shelf. Entirely out of reach. It should have
been far out of harm's way." Severus held his aching skull in his hands. Harry
dabbed at the beads of sweat. "Obviously I was mistaken."
Snape shook his head and Remus took the towel from Harry, re-wet it and pressed
the cool, damp towel to his forehead. Snape instead of objecting to the
pampering, allowed the other teacher to hold the cloth in place. It was the
clearest testament yet, on how horrible Snape was feeling. He hated being
fussed over. But now he lay on his back enduring the care of others with nary a
scowl or glare.
"I just don't understand how it could have gotten into my tea." The black
haired man murmured. "I didn't take anything off of the shelf, didn't bump into
it...." He shook his head gingerly. His dark eyes glittering with fever. Amrys
sat next to him, looping an arm around the white shoulders.
Amrys looked up at Lupin when that man made a small noise of distress. It
alerted him to a situation he might not like. He cast a suspicious look at the
Hogwarts' teacher.
"Promise you will control your temper, Severus." Remus said, quietly. Amrys
stood, realizing the other man knew something about how his lover had been
poisoned. He loomed over the slender werewolf, flexing and glowering. Lucius
waved him back from the wary Professor. Harry put a hand out but Lucius would
not allow Harry to touch the other wereleopard. Using his own body he moved
Amrys back, placed his hands on the gold-skinned waist.
"A reasonable request." Lucius said, mildly. "Upset will not aid your
condition." He said to the recumbent man, as he kept his hands on his second,
who was still glowering. They all heard the grinding of Severus' molars as he
gave a curt nod, then pressed a hand to his forehead. Even that small movement
was unwelcome in his current condition.
"Very well. It was Peeves. He tipped it accidentally into your tea." Remus
explained quietly. "He did not intend to do you any harm.
"Who is Peeves?" Amrys growled and was promptly ignored as Snape's gaze
sharpened, then he shut them, the pain too much.
"What exactly was he doing in my personal rooms?" Snape asked with both eyes
closed. As the silence lingered he opened one eye, fixing Remus with its
harpoon-like glare. Lupin cleared his throat. "I really don't feel quite well
enough to drag it out of you Lupin. Please take pity on my condition and just
explain it to me."
"He was watching you." Remus said gently.
"Watching me?" Snape sounded utterly confused. "Why on earth would that little
pipsqueak want to watch me?" The complaint held none of the usual sharpness.
"He has found you increasingly compelling of late, he says. Apparently he finds
you quite beautiful." Lupin found he could not stop the faint pink flush from
rising in his own cheeks, even as he saw a darker hue rise in Severus'.
Snape appeared to digest this new and very unexpected information. Then both
eyes flew open. "This has been going on for a time?"
"Oh, most certainly, yes." Remus admitted. "He was going on and on about how
wonderful you were."
"How long would you say?" Snape asked pointedly, cutting through the rest of
Remus' statement."
"Peeves admitted to several months." Lupin shrugged. "He did not say, not
exactly."
"During which time he has watched me. Doing what exactly?" Snape inquired more
sharply than before. "Only when I was alone, or...perhaps when others were with
me?"
Lupin's cheeks pinked. The others in the room stirred at the question every one
of them knowing what Snape was thinking. Amrys let out a low growl. Coming so
soon an the heels of Dumbledore's discovered activities, they were all
uncomfortable with the idea of being spied on. "Well, he seemed to like to
watch you doing anything at all, as frequently as possible. If I am to
interpret his statement."
"I was afraid of that." Snape let his head fall back onto the pillows. Almost
without a doubt the meddlesome ghost had watched him at some very intimate
moments. The legacy of Dumbledore had allowed the spirits residing at Hogwarts
to develop some reprehensible habits. No doubt they had seen him doing his full
range of activities. Snape would not allow himself to dwell on those times and
just what the ghost had seen. He would put a stop to it. There was nothing he
could do about the past infractions. But he fully intended to set a firm new
standard.
"That is not all I am afraid." Lupin said hesitantly. Everyone looked at him
again, with growing alarm. "Uhm, I found Albus' potion's manual. The wards
protecting his books were negated on his imprisonment. I thought it worth
consulting, given the severity of your reaction. It was one of the compulsion
mixtures he'd composed."
"Yes. I deduced as much." Snape said with pained patience. "What other bad news
have you discovered? I am sure you would not have mentioned it if it weren't
bad news."
"Well, Albus never dared use it on his...victims. It was everything he wanted,
except it had a side effect he could not eliminate. One that negated it's
usefulness. He spent countless hours trying to eliminate it."
"Again, I am left wondering what the bad news is going to be." Snape said into
the charged silence. Amrys freed himself from his king and went to Severus'
side, he lay a hand over his chest. Snape put his own on top. Amrys lifted it
to his mouth and kissed it. Snape pretended he didn't notice, but his insides
warmed with pleasure.
"The one side effect he could not get rid of...it increased fertility as well
as libido. All the subjects inevitably became pregnant. Regaurdless of gender."
Lupin said after a short pause. At first the new Headmaster of Hogwarts' found
it impossible to comprehend. He blinked.
Amrys froze, his mouth warm on the palm of his lover's hand. Then very slowly
he lowered the hand to his lap and stared at the werewolf.
Severus Snape sat bolt upright. "I am PREGNANT?!" He roared, long hanks of
pitch black hair flying around his face.
***** Chapter 109 *****
Chapter 109
 
Severus had collapsed back on the bed furs through sheer frustration, Harry
decided. All the ranting and raving, very atypical of his former professor, had
led to nothing much more than the wizard snatching his wand from Remus, who
then snatched it back, telling Snape in no uncertain terms that magic might not
be the best thing for him to be doing in his assumed to be gravid state.
Severus had reacted by snatching his wand back a second time and using the
long, slender bit of wood to scan his belly and pelvis. No one in the room had
missed the unmistakable results. The glow was in precisely the right spot.
Severus glared at Amrys, who regarded him much more placidly. Almost with a
pleased expression. Smug. Snape was outraged, sputtering as the lycanthrope
took his hand and stroked it, adoringly. He probably would have patted Snape on
the belly over the glow...but Severus bared his teeth at him. Wisely Amrys
restricted his attentions to the wizard's hand.
Severus Snape, the new Headmaster of Hogwarts was indeed irreversibly pregnant.
Harry let out a nervous giggle then clapped a hand over his mouth eyes big as
saucers when the professor frowned darkly at him. Draco shushed him and sat on
the bed next to his former Head of House, now the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Soon
to be mother.
"You know more than just about anyone about male pregnancy, Severus. There is
nothing to worry about....Everything will go perfectly well. It will be over in
no time and you will have a lovely baby for all your trouble." Draco reached
back and took Yaji's hand in his own. The huge man bent and ran careful fingers
over the pale blond hair feathering around Draco's face. Their affection for
each other was very clear. Snape narrowed his eyes.
^^^^^^^^^^^^
Now a good eight months and three weeks later Severus Snape was as
uncomfortable and snappish as he had ever been. His belly was huge, a massive
testimonial to the fact that Amrys apparently could not father anything less
than twins. And apparently hefty ones at that.
Severus stood to stretch out his aching back. His ankles were puffed up to
twice their normal slender size. Bony, he corrected himself. His ankles were
normally bony, not slender. Now they were anything but. Add to that insult...he
had not seen his genitals in months, hidden as they were under his vast
abdomen. He couldn't even reach them any longer, no matter how he tried to
contort his body. Perhaps they were no longer there at all, he thought
irritably.
He had been reduced to sitting to do all his toileting, a humiliating thing. He
should not be so troubled by it. But he was. It made him feel less than a man
and more like a pregnant woman. Amrys tried to be sympathetic as he helped him
wash. Severus wouldn't hear a word of it. He was utterly miserable.
He hadn't even been able to enjoy sex with his lover. He was too uncomfortable.
He wondered if Amrys was off enjoying himself with others, supple and handsome
young kittens of the pride to take the edge off. He stubbornly refused himself
permission to ask. If Amrys no longer wanted him or found him horribly
unattractive...well Severus could hardly blame him. He sniffled. Must be a
draft in here, he told himself. He was aching and stiff and his eyes were
watering, his nose dripping.
He was miserable. Except for the times he dreamed about the two babies wedged
tightly into his belly. With any luck at all they'd have their father's good
looks. The idea of two beautiful babies who would grow to look like Amrys made
Snape's knees weak. He made sure he concealed it from his lover. No need to
swell the man's head further. One look at Draco's babies was enough to take
anyone's breath away. The idea that soon Amrys would have four to brag
about...Snape allowed himself a secret smile.
He resumed his seat. Wishing the deep ache in his back would go away long
enough for him to review the admission records pertaining to the new students
in the upcoming classes. He sighed adjusting his chair as best he could,
placing his feet up on the cushioned stool Lucius and Harry had brought to his
office last month. Harry had stared at him, eyes locked onto the mountainous
belly Severus was sporting. He'd griped at them, but the stool really did seem
to help a little.
His back spasmed. Damn. It was getting worse, not better at all. He stood
again, feeling restless, wanting to move. To pace. He managed a cumbersome
shuffle. Like a waddling hippograf. He snarled at that image. To make things
worse he had to pee again. He was shocked he had been reduced to such appalling
verbiage. Pee indeed. He needed to urinate, to void his bladder. He shuffled in
the direction of his private lavatory. It seemed too far away for his desperate
bladder.
"Oh for...Merlin's....sake." He groused. He was awkward. He had never been
anything but elegant in his movement. Now he was a lumbering, teetering,
unbalanced...moose. He snarled, planting both hands on the back of his hips and
leaning what weight he could into them. Trying to force some sort of pressure
into the muscles that seized up so fiercely. Trying to hasten his progress.
Finally he arrived at his destination. Thankfully without an accident. He
gingerly lowered himself onto the seat. Blessed relief. He was annoyed at the
tiny amount he produced. It had felt like he was holding a veritable flood
inside his compressed bladder. He struggled up to his feet. Let his robes fall
into place, and started the shuffle back to his desk.
A gush of fluid flooded his legs and filled his slippers. He stopped moving,
blinking at the puddle he was suddenly standing in the middle of. Back pains.
Irritability. Restlessness. Cramping. He was in labor. And he had missed it
entirely.
Snape made an effort to recall when the pains had started. Then he was seized
by the mother of all cramping pains. In his back, his pelvis and between his
legs. And he realized he was still in his male form. He would have smacked
himself right between the eyes if he wasn't afraid of knocking himself off of
his feet. The wave of discomfort passed and he shuffled quickly to his desk. He
didn't dare sit, he bent forward, resting his elbows on the desk and sent out a
call for Remus and Amrys, then after a second for Draco as well.
Then he waited, hoping they would be quick. Because he didn't want to try to
deliver the babies without all the help he could get. How on Earth had the much
more delicate Draco managed to push out the huge creatures inhabiting his
belly? Snape felt like a boulder was straining to make it's way out.
Someone was pounding on his door. He lifted his head. He did not want any
company. Not now.
"Go away." He said, firmly.
"Severus?" It was Remus. "Severus? You must take down the wards so we can
enter." The werewolf's voice was even, the tone completely reasonable. Snape
flushed. He had forgotten the wards. He struggled for his wand. Awkwardly he
swished and flicked as unpracticed a move as any first year's. But it got the
job done. And Remus was inside, followed by Draco rubbing his eyes, obviously
having just wakened.
They helped him to the rooms behind the office. Stopping every few feet for a
contraction to pass. The three of them wobbled unsteadily. Snape puckered his
lips in frustration. The bed was still on the far side of the room. They would
never make it at this rate. He opened his mouth to tell them he was ready to
deliver on the floor rather than try for the bed....when powerful arms
encircled him and lifted him.
He blinked up into Amrys' face, as he was carried the rest of the way to the
bed. He sighed when the mattress was under him, his aching back pleased to no
longer be upright. Amrys smiled back at him. Snape opened his mouth to thank
his beloved, when a contraction hit. He crushed the wereleopard's fingers in
his own.
Severus Snape did something completely out of character. He started swearing.
***** Chapter 110 *****
Chapter 110
 
Severus Snape was convinced that his body had been turned inside out. He hoped
that Remus Lupin had remembered to stuff all the essential parts back inside
before changing his gender from female for the birth, back to blessedly male
for the rest of his natural life. It wouldn't do to stumble over a forgotten
spleen, uterus or some-such when he finally got up from this damn bed.
Severus sighed, wincing at the incredible lingering soreness that inflicted his
pelvis, much like his bones had been prised apart with a dull chisel. Once
again he wondered how the slender, far more delicate Draco had managed to push
out two babies from his slim hips, while he, felt he'd been split asunder.
Snape would never again minimize what the boy had done. Severus had sworn,
cursed, snarled and kicked like a madwoman. Lupin had dodged and cajoled, Draco
alternately scolding and praising him, darting out of Snape's reach when
necessary, Amrys holding his hand and not wincing a whit despite Snape's death
grip.
Now Severus Snape lay panting, having delivered two unbelievably tiny babies,
bundled snugly in the double wide bassinet next to his bed. He was shocked to
his core to see how small they were. It had not felt so small, as they pushed
out of his shocked and entirely unprepared body, now that he could see them,
they looked so fragile, helpless. His heart squeezed painfully.
Amrys was hovering over the two babies with an expression of pride and wonder.
His eyes shone when he raised his head and looked at his mate. His face was
beatific. It was also rather fierce, as he telegraphed his intention of
protecting them from any and every possible risk. Real or imagined. Snape felt
his own previously unknown maternal instincts stir.
Severus was momentarily breathless at that look from the golden beauty who,
with him, had made these babes. Amrys was gazing on him as if he had performed
miracles unheard of before. His smile was radiant and tremulous. Filled with
uncontainable joy. Severus had not paid all that much attention to Amrys when
Draco's children had been born. But he thought that Amrys was even more
attentive now than he had been then. His heart thumped and turned over in his
chest.
Snape raised himself up on one elbow. His first attempt at speech was little
more than a croak, his throat raw and dry. Small wonder considering the shouts
and roared obscenities he'd let out during his many hours of labor. The
combination preventing anything near comprehensible from emerging from his
mouth.
"Thirsty?" Draco asked as he spun on his chair parked to Snape's right and
retrieved a glass of cool, watered fruit juice. Draco held the glass to his
mouth. The tart juice filled his mouth, seeming to soak right into his parched
tissues like a balm. He swallowed gratefully, his eyes drifting shut to
appreciate the wonder of wetness and sweetness flowing over his tongue and down
his sandpapered throat. Utter bliss.
"Are...." Still a croak, but one that it was possible to comprehend. He cleared
his throat yet again. "Are the children alright?" It was the first and only
thing on his mind. Were they...his two little, dark haired daughters, OK?
Amrys gazed at them, touching them with terribly gentle fingers. Handling them
with reverence and fierce, joyous care. Snape felt a suspicious tickle rise in
his throat, lodging in the back of his sinuses. He sniffled. Dust, again. The
whole pace would have to be cleaned. All the dust that was flying about. It
could make a man's eyes water.
Remus answered, with crisp efficiency, still doing something down there between
Snape's legs, his wand rising and falling. His tone was absentminded, his
concentration elsewhere. "They are fine, Severus, no need to worry..."
Snape favored the man with one of his patented glares, scandalized at the
offhanded reply. He momentarily thought of closing his legs on the impertinent
man's head and squeezing quite hard. Remus Lupin could not possibly understand
the import of this moment. he could not know the intensity of the bond that
Severus felt with the tiny lives inches away under Amrys' careful watch. He
also couldn't know that his patient was contemplating kicking him in the head
for his insensitivity.
Amrys looked up again, smiling widely, tears swimming in his eyes. "They
are...perfect. As beautiful and perfect as any child could ever be, my love."
His voice was deeper even than usual, filled with affection and adoration, with
love. Snape swallowed the tears that threatened to choke him.
Amrys left the children's side, stepping over to the man who had borne his
children, had given him two beautiful daughters to go with the radiant sons
Draco had given him and the pride. Not so long ago, Amrys had been a free and
independent man. Second only to Lucius in the pride.
Then he had met a man who was truly different from any other he had
encountered. A man who was both querulous and noble. Who paid little attention
to his physical appearance, yet had something indefinable that drew Amrys to
him. A sharp tongue, a stern view on life. A man who had principles and stuck
to them. A man who had more than once saved Harry from death and injury. The
champion of his pride's Chosen. Of Lucius' husband. The king proclaimed his
thanks. Amrys had slowly fallen in love.
The lust had been almost instantaneous. It had been so hot and fast it nearly
burned him with it's intensity. He had wanted the tall, slim man. He had wanted
him in his bed, Amrys set about getting him. It had all come to this. The day
when Peeves had spilled the potion into Severus' cup and Severus had gone wild
with lust...the day these miracles had been conceived. The day Severus, only
partly recovered, had insisted on attending Harry and Lucius' bonding ceremony,
sleeping through most of it, snoring loudly while doing so, the entire cadre of
kittens grinning behind their hands. It had all led to now. The babies,
Severus. Love.
Amrys had always been surrounded by love. Love of friends, of the body, of king
and pride. Love of family. Now he had it all. He had husband, partner,
children, pride....all of it. He sank to his knees at the side of his lover's
child-bed. He took the long, graceful, pale fingers in his own, darker,
stronger, squarer ones. He gazed lovingly on the sweating features, the lank
hair stuck to the sharp featured face. He pressed his lips to those fingers,
his eyes locked on the obsidian ones of his mate.
"Severus, my beloved, my mate, will you join with me in the way of the leopards
of my pride? Will you agree to be recognized as my mate, my personal chosen and
be changed? To become one with me and my pride?" His voice was heavy with
emotion. Thrumming with the power of his desire for the other man, the only man
he had even wanted to ask this.
Severus Snape gaped, unable to credit what he was hearing. Draco gave out a
little hoot of joy. He shook his former professor's shoulder.
"For god's sake man! Wake up! He's asked you to marry him!" He squealed at the
poleaxed man. He bounced in his chair, excited, shaking Snape repeatedly.
"Aren't you going to say anything?!" The young blond squealed his demand,
continuing to bounce in agitated happiness.
"Gaaahhhh?" The Headmaster of Hogwarts, supreme Potion's Master, skilled
practitioner of DADA, protector of the boy who lived, swordsman, and most
importantly, mate of Amrys and brand new mother, at last, managed to utter.
"Gahh-hah!" He repeated, emphatically. Not quite living up to his reputation as
a man who was never at a loss for words.
Amrys kissed him, beaming. He had no trouble understanding the answer
perfectly.
***** Chapter 111 *****
Chapter 111: the Epilogue.
 
Harry Potter, Chosen of the king of the pride, sat in the quiet of the Room of
Rules and Laws. He found the room, with its symbol-incised walls, to be
relaxing and infinitely welcoming. The magic within it, the years of tradition,
embraced and held him gently. Making him feel...know...he was indeed part of
the were-leopard pride of Lucius Malfoy. Here, he belonged. There was no
question or doubt in his mind. He felt the room enfold him, hold him gently in
it's bosom.
Once he had felt rejected, once he had feared that he was not loved, that he
would never truly belong to anyone or to anything, any place. Now. He had all
those things. He had Ron, Draco, the other kittens. He had Lucius, a man he
loved more than he thought he ever could love anyone. A man who had stood up
with him and declared his love and devotion in a ceremony that skirted the line
of the laws he lived by. But he had done it, for Harry.
He had Graeme, too, who took care of him fiercely, watched out for him, gave
him safety and comfort. He had Blaise, the other kitten his almost mentor and a
friend. He had Draco who had become his very best friend. He was valued and
loved and fulfilled. He was happy. He had the love of a strange and wonderful
man, a man who was a king, who's people loved and worshiped him. The same
people who held out open arms to Harry.
Harry never thought he'd want to live like this. At first he'd believed it was
all wrong, that it was worse than anything he'd endured before. That was wrong,
but he hadn't know that then. The sharing, the love and the lust. The
couplings. They had made him feel used, that he was going to burst, to weep and
to rail against the unfairness, that Lucius was not his and his alone. But. He
learned that it was just his reaction to the unknown. Fear. To being unsure and
insecure. To not knowing he was well and truly loved.
How strange that now he could see Lucius with his people, even with other
kittens and feel no jealousy. Lucius was more than just Harry's, he belonged to
the rest of the pride. Lucius was the king and the heart of the pride. Harry
was very simply, the highest in the king's esteem, his most treasured and most
beloved. He had nothing to fear any longer. Harry spent the night in Lucius'
arms and his bed. Lucius broke tradition for him. Harry was the first Chosen to
lay in his pride king's bed. The bed for the leaders of the pride: the king,
his second and third. Never any other. Until Harry.
It had taken time and the touch of other were-leopards, but Harry knew that he
was not alone, that Lucius was not the only person who he had to rely on,
depend on. Amrys, Graeme, Tanith, Draco, even the once terrifying Severus
Snape...the list was long. Harry had a whole community now.
He was deeply lost in pleasant thought when a warm hand settled on his
shoulder. Harry gasped and turned, caught entirely by surprise. His lycanthrope
hearing and senses usually made it impossible to sneak up on him. Not so today.
He flushed with happiness when he saw it was Lucius behind him.
"Why are you here, Harry?" The king asked, his face shining as he looked down
at his Chosen. He stroked a finger along Harry's pink cheek, eyes lingering on
the sweet lips. "This is a sacred place. I wonder...why do you come here so
often?"
"It calls to me, makes me feel peaceful. Good." Harry said, leaning his cheek
against the broad back of the pale skinned hand. The big, fearsome hand
rotated, cupped his face. Loved him.
"It is like there is a feeling of the past and the pride here." The young man
answered, knowing that he was only able to put part of what he was experiencing
from his visits here into words. He couldn't describe the incredible draw of
the runic words and the stone and the walls. The feel of incredible antiquity,
great age. This was a place of...forever. And it called to him. Lured and
beckoned him.
"It is a place of our pride's magic. And you are of the pride. So it lays claim
to you, Harry." Lucius seemed to understand, and Harry sighed happily. He
leaned his head back as Lucius settled down behind him, so warm. "Would you
wish to pay tribute to the pride?" The big man asked, his hand spreading out on
Harry's belly, a shield, a caress.
Harry tilted his head back to look up into the so handsome face. His chest
swelled with joy. Yes, he wanted.... "Tribute? How? What do you mean?"
"The Room is the most ancient part of the pride. It is our laws and our rules
and our history. It is what we have been, what we are, what we will be, my
Chosen. Some times we give back to its magic for sustaining our memory, for
reminding us of ourselves, our pride." Lucius slid his long, strongly muscled
arms around Harry, holding tight, secure. Harry shivered in delight. There was
nothing like the touch of all that power, physical and heartfelt, to send him
spinning. The press of those great biceps, that firm belly, rippling against
him. It was as if...Lucius was the embodiment of all that was noble and
honorable, was endowed with the primordial power of the pride. Its very
essence.
Harry gulped at the burning intensity of the man's pale, silvered blue eyes.
"And..." He swallowed again, his skin tingling, "Uh...how would we do that?" He
half squeaked, mouth dry with longing. Lucius smiled and his head lowered
towards Harry's.
"This is how....Lay with me, beloved. Give me of yourself, here, among the
memories and the dreams, the past and the future of what we are. Give yourself
to me....surrender yourself, love." He murmured softly as his lips hovered over
those of the slender, emerald eyed youth.
"This is how we give honor..." And they kissed, soft as a breeze, wet and warm,
the feel of it seeping gloriously into Harry's bones, singing through his
flesh, sighing in his heart. The air crackled, swirled and coalesced, caressing
over his skin, warming him, accepting him, taking him. Harry moaned when Lucius
lifted his head away. His damp, glistening lips still parted, straining up,
needing the touch, the taste, and feel of his man.
"How...how many times?" He asked, blinking dazedly. But the were-leopard
understood what he was asking.
"I have offered only once before. When I chose Amrys and Graeme as my second
and third. I came here to offer thanks with them, leaving our seed here, our
pleasure and our thanks. I have never had anything worthy of the Room of Rules
and Laws since that day. Not until now. Harry." The long blond hair fell around
them both as Lucius reached up and undid the knotted tie. Nearly Harry's
favorite thing, that light touch of long, satin strands. Then there was the
heated, skilled mouth, the vibrant skin, the magical hands, the incomparable,
dominating body, the person his lover *was*, he sighed, a trembling, needing,
,joyous sound.
"Worship with me...." It was a sigh, a breath, hot and sweet caressing Harry's
skin, all over, in more places than should have been possible, curling in
possession, between his legs, tempting him. He shivered in joy, tingling and
moaning, his hands willingly tugging at the man's thin silk trousers, pawing
hungrily over the exquisite bare chest. Muscle's curved under his hungry hands,
filled them to overflowing, lifted him, spread him. Adored him. With tongue and
spit and and lips wandering. As Harry found and grasped the magnificent curve
of buttocks, slabs of artistic perfection, driving tenderly into him. Power
enough to break him...but healing him instead.
"Oh Gods, oh Merlin!" Harry groaned into the sensual cavern of his lover's
mouth. Lucius had him naked and spread out on the floor furs, that fast, open,
unshielded, a sacrifice of love and lust, desire burning, too fast and hot for
Harry to believe it was only moments since the other man had found him. His
chest heaved up, arching into the tongue laving his taut nipple, wandering up
his arched throat.
The bites were welcome, driving the fire in his ignored and empty core that
much higher. He lifted himself, offered...waited and wanted the fingers that
found him, slid over him, his tight opening, paying homage to that part of him
that brought his king such great, blinding pleasure. Then inside, long and
deep, reaching, spreading gently, until Harry moaned, full, shaking begging
with whispers and hips canting. Throwing his near leg over the man's hips, heel
finding lodging at the small of Lucius' back, binding them together.
"Oh....more. Please more." The sigh, dizzying. Harry sobbing, hands up flung,
arms wide, legs lifted up to straddle and cup, to encircle the powerful hips of
his beloved. The first touch, wet, hot, straining, at the center of him, almost
too much, then sliding infinitely slow, and not nearly enough, as he groaned
the man smiled at him while he arched and begged.
And Lucius entered him. All long, steady, slow torture of the most insane
sweetness. Plumbing him fully, deeply, stealing his breath, focusing all his
feeling to that place, that most intense pleasure of giving, of Lucius taking
and owning him. Their hips meeting, flush, no deeper penetration possible,
melding and merging, Harry's body lifted by slender pelvis, his upper body
flowing back and down, his dark curls tumbled around his face. A dark angel,
marble skin glowing, slim erection straining, body taken and opened, thrust by
thrust.
"Oh," he said, breathed, "....oh...love....you...." A sigh floating....gone.
He writhed, bent as he was, held for his beloved's pleasure, legs knotted
higher around the man's waist, buttocks cleaved, his moans taking wing, sweat
dewing his belly, his chest, pooling in the hollow of his throat. Lucius' hands
his anchor, his fulcrum as they moved together in ancient rhythm, in pleasure,
in sharing, in joy, as he was taken, as he gave and surrendered.
The slick surge, so far, dilating him. Harry moaned. Out, tight and hard, in,
pressing, stroking, opening him further. Oh, god. Oh no. In, in. Oh yes. Like
that. Harry cried out. Lucius growled, bending down again, covering the
shivering, shaking kitten with kissing, sharp bites, enveloping him, taking
what was his. In and out, and in. Always, that was it. In.
In.
Until it was so much, too much, enough and Harry screamed it. His pleasure, his
release up into the air, into the magic of the Room of Rule and or Law.
And it was taken, his offering, as Lucius filled him. Fingers digging into him,
the slick heat of his hips, unable to resist the tight squeezing, caressing
around his throbbing, blood filled member, buried deep in his Chosen's body.
The air glittered and sparkled and grew gold sheened. Harry's seed turning to
tiny stars, taken as the gift from the very magic of the air.
And Lucius gave to his beloved as much as had been taken, his love, his body,
his devotion, his seed. His Pride. His sacrifice.
And Harry belonged.
The End!!
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