Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12152937.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Original_Female_Character(s)
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Original_Female_Character(s), Mermaid_-_Character
  Additional Tags:
      Mythical_Beings_&_Creatures, Monstergirl, Interspecies_Relationship(s),
      Interspecies_Sex, Smut, Underwater, Merpeople, PWP, Fluff, Gillyweed
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-09-21 Completed: 2017-09-27 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 11630
****** Under the Lake ******
by dirtyuncle
Summary
     Harry makes a new friend during the second task of the Triwizard
     Tournament. Harry/mermaid.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Harry's elongated feet propelled him through the cool water with ease as he
craned his neck in search for any sign of the hostages. The murky twilight was
no obstacle for his keen eyes, his ears sensed the slightest fluctuations in
the surroundings, and he moved with the grace of an experienced swimmer. He was
anything but, of course—it was all thanks to gillyweed, a truly miraculous
plant that Dobby had provided at the very last minute. It transformed him into
someone who was right at home a hundred feet underwater. He was powerful, self-
assured, and his body seemed to know what to do better than his mind did.
It was not at all strange, then, that when his tongue tasted a metallic tang he
somehow knew to be blood, he used his webbed palms to turn smoothly to the
direction the odor was coming from. While he doubted Dumbledore would have
allowed Ron and the others to come to any real harm, Harry still had to make
certain it wasn't his friend who was hurt.
The silty lakebed below was gradually concealed by tangled weeds, growing
taller and taller until they almost brushed his stomach, rippling gently at his
passing. His heart beat faster, not so much from exertion as from some primal
emotion he couldn't name. The taste of blood was stronger now, as revolting as
it was electrifying, and his hand inched towards the wand in his trouser
pocket.
There was a muted, squelching sort of sound coming from his left, followed by a
short-lived current he felt with his entire skin. Changing course deftly, he
darted upwards, then froze as an unexpected sight opened up before him.
There was a clearing in the thicket below, an irregular circle where the
twisting weeds had been flattened, and at its bottom was a mermaid surrounded
by a swarm of grindylows. She clutched an obsidian blade in her dainty hand as
she twirled her tail to spin on the spot, glaring at the water demons darting
to and fro, their tentacles billowing, and their maws baring hundreds of
needle-like teeth.
Without warning, a grindylow behind her back extended its spindly fingers and
swooped down. The mermaid whirled to meet it, and her gleaming dagger sliced
open its belly, staining the water crimson. The creature was immediately set
upon by its own pack, its fellows sinking their fangs into its greenish flesh,
and the mermaid beat her tail mightily to escape through the momentary gap in
their encirclement. The remaining grindylows screeched and lunged after her,
and Harry, finally regaining his faculties, pulled out his wand and aimed it at
the pursuers.
As though sensing his movement, the mermaid rounded on him and froze, her
startlingly purple eyes widening, and her long violet hair spreading out like a
halo at her abrupt halt. The grindylows pounced. Their crooked claws scrabbled
at her lustrous blue scales to no effect, but her humanoid upper half wasn't
equipped with such protection, and one of the critters tore at her arm, leaving
a red slash across her pale blue skin. She let out a pained trill and beat her
tail again, knocking several grindylows aside and swinging her blade wildly at
the rest.
"Relashio!" Harry cried, hearing a deep and vibrating voice quite unlike his
usual escape his throat. The spell also underwent a change, shooting out from
his wand as a jet of boiling water—yet it was no less potent, knocking away a
grindylow that had latched onto the poor mermaid's tail fin. "Relashio,
Relashio!"
Noticing a new threat, the grindylows swooped towards his extended wand hand.
Harry yanked it back and instead punched with his left, and the critter he hit
floated away in a daze, its numerous tentacles roiling haphazardly. He thrust
his wand at another, snapping its neck backwards with a point-blank Depulso.
There was a sharp pain in his ankle, and he ducked his head to find a grindylow
sinking its teeth into his flesh. Snarling, he kicked at its skull, and
grimaced when it crunched under his heel. Swimming upwards, he frantically
looked around for more enemies, but the grindylows seemed to have had enough;
with hateful screeches, the remnants of the pack retreated into the forest of
weeds.
He trained his wand downwards, watching for movement between the swaying
plants, then released a shaky breath which came out in a trail of bubbles. His
ankle stung and his heart was thumping in his chest, but he couldn't help his
lips curling into a triumphant grin. He didn't know what had riled up the
supposedly cowardly creatures enough to attack an armed opponent, but he'd
given them a fight they wouldn't soon forget.
Satisfied that he was safe for the time being, Harry raised his head. The
mermaid was watching him warily and inching away as she clutched her injured
arm. The water around her wound was clouded crimson.
"You're hurt!" He kicked towards her. "Here, let me—"
Screeching sharply, she brandished her blade in his direction with her
undamaged hand. He stilled, momentum continuing to carry him forward, and
racked his brain for a method to explain his intentions. Then he slapped his
forehead and bent his knee to raise his ankle, getting a first look at the
myriad of tiny punctures on his skin which oozed blood. Making sure he had her
attention, he aimed his wand at his wounds.
"Episkey."
A subdued golden light erupted from the wandtip, and a wave of heat washed over
his foot. Harry watched with satisfaction as the punctures mended before his
very eyes. Straightening up, he rotated his ankle experimentally, and grinned
when he felt no pain.
"See?" he said, smiling. "I can do the same for you, if you just let me."
Peering at him cautiously, the mermaid fluttered her fin to stop in place, and
lowered her weapon a fraction. Taking that as an invitation, Harry slowly swam
closer, raising his hands to show he meant peace. As he approached, he was
struck by how young she looked; due to her long, lissome tail putting her above
his height, he had pegged her as an adult, but he could now see she was a girl
about his own age, all lanky limbs and large fearful eyes. Were it not for her
unusual coloring, she might have passed for a Hogwarts student above the waist.
Only several feet separated them now, and the taste of her blood was becoming
oppressive. Eager to heal her, Harry aimed his wand at the arm she was cradling
to her chest. She twitched at his motion and, bending at the waist, sprung
forward to press her dagger to his neck. Her lips drew back to bare her teeth,
revealing slightly elongated fangs.
"Whoa!" Harry gulped, feeling the cold edge graze his skin. "C-calm down. It's
okay. It's okay..."
He felt as though he was trying to tame a feral beast, and had to suppress a
hysterical giggle at the less-than-favorable comparison. Gripping his wand,
which had nearly slipped from his fingers at her sudden lunge, he ever so
carefully lowered its tip to her still-bleeding wound. She warbled something
that sounded like a warning, and he felt the pressure against his neck
increase.
"Episkey," he murmured, barely moving his lips.
There was a flash of gold, and the water between them warmed. The mermaid drew
back with a cry and, holding the dagger before her, scrutinized her arm. The
apprehension on her face was replaced by wonder as she prodded her now-healthy
skin. She lifted her head to stare at him, lowering her weapon at last.
"See? Nothing to it," he said with a grin. His gaze inadvertently flicked to
her modest chest, no longer covered by her arm, and it took an almost physical
effort to wrench his eyes away. "Uh... It was nice meeting you. Gotta go
now—bye!"
Grimacing at his awkward farewell and trying futilely to get the image of her
naked form out of his mind, Harry pivoted and zoomed off in a random direction.
As his legs kicked a steady rhythm, he struggled to focus on the immediate
task: namely, finding his best mate and getting back to the surface. There
would be time to daydream about pretty mermaids later.
Glancing around, he found that he'd covered some distance during his
disgraceful retreat, and the mass of weeds below was thinning out again.
Realizing too late that he didn't know which direction he was heading, he
groaned and slowed down, squinting at the bottom where the plants were being
progressively replaced by rocks. Lacking a better plan, he figured he'd simply
follow the slope of the lakebed, as Hermione had told him that the merpeople
village was located at the deepest part.
Preoccupied as he was, even his preternaturally acute senses took a while to
notify his brain of the currents produced by a rapidly approaching object. He
turned to look and gaped.
Breasts. Glorious pale mounds, perky and smooth, with small nipples pointing
straight at him—
A lilting tune startled him out of his reverie, and he tilted his head to meet
the mermaid's purple eyes. She spoke in her melodious tongue again, her tone
full of curiosity and perhaps a hint of concern. Harry snapped his jaw shut and
schooled his expression, unintentionally picking up speed. She matched him
effortlessly, swimming alongside as she continued to stare.
He cleared his throat. "Look, if you wanted to thank me, there's no need. It's
my fault you got hurt in the first place."
She frowned, showing no sign of understanding. He kicked the speed up another
notch. His thighs were beginning to burn and he doubted he could keep this pace
up for long.
Gliding closer, she grasped his shoulder, and the unexpected contact made him
stop in his tracks. She then reached for his hand with both of hers and pulled
him towards herself. Finding himself in such proximity to her bare body, Harry
didn't know where to look, so he settled for her eyes.
She peered back, then chirped something at him.
"I'm busy right now," he said, attempting to liberate his hand without being
too forceful. "My friend's been taken."
She spoke more insistently and yanked him again, reinforcing the motion with a
sweep of her tail which sent both of them sailing. Finally comprehending her
intention, Harry looked down at the lakebed, then back at her. The direction
she was pulling him in was at best perpendicular to the slope.
"I'm supposed to go to the middle of the lake," he said.
The mermaid scrunched her brows, then brightened up. "Fol-low," she spoke in a
deliberate, drawn-out manner.
He blinked. "You know English?"
"Follow," she repeated, tugging his arm.
He glanced at the deepening waters he had been heading towards, then at the
mermaid's guileless expression. "Oh, what the hell," he muttered, and gestured
with his hand. "Lead the way."
Her face lit up with a smile that did funny things to his insides, and she
turned around and set off. He powered after her, hoping he wasn't making a huge
mistake.
They swam in silence. The mermaid stayed ahead and glanced over her shoulder
occasionally to make sure he was still following. Her body undulated
harmoniously, slipping through the water with nary an effort, and leaving
Harry's earlier confidence about his own skill in shambles. He trailed her with
dogged strength, feeling like a clumsy oaf in comparison.
A colossal dark shape loomed ahead, and it quickly became apparent that it was
their destination. As they approached, it resolved into a craggy rock
formation, coated with algae and riddled with cracks and crevices. His guide
dived towards a shadowy cave mouth at its base before beckoning him closer.
Harry descended, eyeing the dark entrance suspiciously. When the mermaid darted
inside, he made no move to follow, and she emerged again in half a minute,
warbling at him with obvious exasperation. Her eyes followed his wary gaze to
her dagger, now tied to her forearm with a twine, and she threw her head back
to let out a musical laugh, startling him with how human-like it sounded.
Untying the blade, she darted forward and, before he could even draw his wand,
shoved it into his hand hilt-first.
"Follow," she said, smiling at him toothily before heading back down.
Harry glanced at the vicious weapon in his hand, then sighed and did as asked.
He did draw his wand—for light, not because he was afraid of her—and whispered
a Lumos as he entered the cave. The mermaid's blue scales glinted ahead, and as
he followed her gingerly, his sideways glances revealed nothing but greenish
walls and an occasional crack, too small for a person to slip through. Some
tension left his body, and he shortened the distance between them, feeling the
eddies spawned by the strokes of her tail swirl around him.
As they traveled through the narrow passage, the water gradually grew brighter.
Harry extinguished his wand and squinted curiously. The light was given off by
countless tiny motes, almost too small to be made out individually, their faint
glow merging together. The flavor of the water was also changing; what it
tasted of, he wasn't certain, but he intuitively knew that there was life
ahead, and lots of it. His fingers tightened on his wand as some of his
wariness returned.
The mermaid glanced over her shoulder and chirped right before they navigated a
sharp bend and were bathed in bright light. Shielding his eyes, he glanced
around and couldn't help the gasp that escaped his lips. Appearing pleased with
his reaction, the mermaid swept her arm in a grand gesture and sang out what
had to be the name of the place: Nereithys, as was the closest Harry could get
to its true pronunciation.
Perched high upon the rock they had emerged on, they were overlooking an
underwater valley and the hundreds of round stone buildings scattered therein.
They tended to be taller than they were wide, and had oval openings covered by
curtains of braided yarn and iridescent beads. The place teemed with activity
that would've put Hogsmeade to shame; some merfolk tended to what appeared to
be gardens, others frolicked through the labyrinthine streets, and others
still, he was surprised to see, were feeding grindylows—tamed ones, presumably.
And everything around was awash in light which would've undoubtedly looked
lackluster to a human, but was as brilliant as that of a midday sun to his
hypersensitive eyes.
He was startled out of his examination by the dulcet tones of his guide, and
pivoted to find her pointing a clawed finger towards the periphery of the
village. Squinting in that direction, he discovered an ornamental column
surrounded by a gaggle of merfolk. His heart leapt in his chest when he spied
Ron's mop of red hair in their midst, and he beamed at the mermaid who'd led
him here.
"Thank you," he said, trying to convey his gratitude through his tone. "I
s'ppose—well, I suppose this is it." He turned to take off, then wheeled about
on an impulse. It seemed a shame to leave just like that. "Hey, what's your
name?"
She tilted her head, making her hair sway.
"Of course, you wouldn't understand," he said, irritated with his own
stupidity. "Er, how about this..." Pointing his thumb at himself, he
articulated, "Harry."
The mermaid blinked under his intense stare, then pointed hesitantly at him.
"Har-ree," she sang.
Harry pumped his arm. "Yes! What about you?" He jabbed his finger at her in a
manner that would've been considered rude on land, but he was too caught up in
the moment to care.
She parted her lips to let out a short sequence of sounds that evoked images of
cold, crystal-clear water, and he knew that he had no hope of replicating it
with his tongue.
He tried anyway. "Maira?"
She cocked her head, something between a nod and a shrug, and repeated the
word.
"Maira." He scowled in frustration at how woefully crude his imitation sounded.
She giggled and came closer, and the infectious smile on her face cleared his
frown. "Har-ree," she sang again, and there was something in her voice that
made his heart skip a beat. His tongue darted out to taste the water
instinctively, and her heady scent made his breath catch in his gills.
Closing the distance between them, Maira pressed her lips to his, and Harry's
mind went blank. He barely registered how soft and warm she felt before it was
all over and she drew back, giving him a bashful smile. Her fingertips brushed
the gills on his neck, making him shiver; then she whirled around and took off,
a vigorous swipe of her tail sending him several feet backwards.
Gobsmacked in more ways than one, Harry stared at her swiftly retreating form
until she passed the illuminated area and disappeared into the gloomy waters
beyond. His hand rose to touch his lips, and he realized with a start that he
was grinning like a loon.
Coming to his senses, he shook his head furiously and turned his attention back
to the village below, where his best friend was still held hostage. He had a
task to finish.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The Black Lake didn't live up to its name in summer, Harry mused as he watched
its smooth surface glimmer under the balmy May sun. It certainly looked more
inviting than during that dreary February last year, and without the pressure
of the Triwizard Tournament, another jaunt into its depths didn't seem quite as
daunting.
Walking up to a gnarled alder growing near the shoreline, he faced his two
companions. "Here's as good as any."
"You're still coming back, right?" Ron asked.
Hermione slapped his shoulder. "Of course he is! Don't even joke about
something like that."
Ron raised his hands defensively. "I just figure with Umbridge running
Hogwarts, the bloke might decide that living with the merfolk is a more
pleasant prospect, is all."
Harry chuckled, patting the bag of gillyweed in his pocket. "Not that you're
wrong, mate, but I can stay five hours tops. Don't wait for me out here,
alright?"
"You know we will," Hermione said, wringing her hands. "What if something goes
wrong?"
"It won't. I have it all planned out, remember?" It had taken him weeks to
convince her that visiting the merpeople was a good idea; he didn't recall
whether it was the argument about finding potential allies, or fostering
relations with other Beings that finally did it. He couldn't resent her for
worrying about him, however, no matter how annoying it was sometimes. "Er,
excuse me, then."
He shuffled behind the tree self-consciously and started undressing, snorting
when Ron hastened to cover Hermione's eyes as though protecting her chastity.
His shirt and trousers followed his robes to a messy pile on the ground, at
which Hermione tutted disapprovingly, leaving him in nothing but a pair of
swimming trunks. He'd learned from his last outing that clothes would only
encumber him, and this time he came prepared.
Emerging from behind the alder, he squeezed a palmful of gillyweed from the bag
before sealing it back up and stuffing it into a pocket on his trunks. He
raised his head to meet the eyes of his friends, who were watching him
intently. "See you soon, yeah?"
"Oh, Harry, do be careful!" Hermione cried. She rushed forward—probably to give
him a hug—but seemed to change her mind at the last moment and shook his hand
instead, her cheeks pink.
Ron winked and gave him a shove. "Have fun," he whispered, making Harry wonder
just how much of his true motivations his best mate had deduced.
Shivering in a slight breeze, Harry waded into the lake, treading carefully to
avoid slipping on the slimy rocks. When he was up to his waist in water, he
turned to wave at Ron and Hermione, then stuffed the gob of gillyweed into his
mouth and chewed—as much as it was possible to chew a mass of mucous cords,
anyway. When he felt he'd done as good a job as he could, he swallowed and
tensed up in anticipation.
The transformation was swift and unrelenting. His ears rang, his pulse sped up,
and his lungs wheezed, pumping air in and out yet failing to provide oxygen.
His fingers and toes tingling as they grew webbings, Harry bent his knees and
dived underwater.
To his transformed body, it felt like coming home. Foreign, half-forgotten
smells and sounds assaulted his senses, which had acquired a distinctly inhuman
quality. He could hear a crayfish crawling at the bottom through minuscule
vibrations it created in the water, as much with his ears as his entire skin,
and he could smell—and taste, to his intense disgust—the rotting reeds clogging
the shoreline. He kicked off with barely a thought, seeking deeper waters that
would let him breathe more freely.
A school of fish darted out of his way as he zoomed forward. The visibility was
great due to the sunlight filtering through the water overhead, and he felt
warm and comfortable despite his state of undress. Best of all, without the
drag of sodden clothes, he found he could move faster and with less effort. It
was almost as exhilarating as flying his Firebolt.
When even his enhanced eyes couldn't make out the lakebed anymore, he paused to
get his bearings and reached back to pat his ankle. Satisfied that the obsidian
dagger was tied securely, he flexed his body and nosedived in a manner that he
reckoned wouldn't have embarrassed a merperson.
While he told his friends that the goal of his visit was returning the blade,
that was nothing but a pretext—it was its owner he longed to see. Throughout
the mayhem of the Tournament, he had focused on simply surviving, but later, in
the lazy solitude of Privet Drive, he spent many a night contemplating the kiss
he had shared with Maira. Was it just a prank for her, or did it mean
something? Could it mean something, considering they were of different species?
Would she laugh at him, having come all the way down there to return a trinket
she didn't want?
He shook his head in disgust at his own timidness, and leveled out before
continuing onward. A fetid odor told him that the brownish plants swaying far
below were infested with grindylows, and while he was certain his improved
arsenal of spells would decimate the nasty critters, he'd rather not waste the
little time he had.
He waited until the vegetation was replaced by yellowish silt before venturing
lower. This deep, even his superior eyesight struggled with the lack of light,
but that was what he was counting on: when he saw a faint glow to his right, he
knew exactly where he needed to go.
So eager was Harry to arrive at his destination, that he underestimated the
distance he had to surmount. When he finally approached the vast illuminated
area where the merfolk dwelled, his muscles were burning with strain. His heart
racing as much from exertion as from nervousness, he advanced towards the town,
squinting at the inhabitants darting gracefully between their domed houses.
To say that his approach didn't go unnoticed would have been an understatement.
It started with a single merman at the outskirts of the settlement, who upon
spying him opened his mouth and released a cry so loud, its faint echo even
carried to Harry's ears. The nearby merfolk quickly gathered to gawk, pointing
and speaking to each other excitedly, and by the time he neared the town
proper, their numbers grew to at least a hundred.
He gulped as he eyed the rows of merpeople, most floating upright, yet some
sideways or upside-down, naked as the day they were born save for an occasional
beaded bracelet or a shellfish necklace, their hair forming halos of grey,
teal, purple. Despite the commotion, they seemed more curious than angry, and
most appeared unarmed—save for three muscular men at the front who clutched
bone-tipped spears.
Harry inched closer under the watchful gazes of the warriors. "Er, hi," he
croaked, raising his empty hands. "I've come to—"
As soon as he crossed some invisible line, the warriors moved like lightning,
surrounding Harry and pressing their spears against his neck, breastbone, and
ribs. He gasped, releasing a trail of bubbles as his ears were filled with the
merpeople's warbling—alarmed and upset, yet still oddly musical. The two
younger warriors remained silent at Harry's sides, while the third, a towering
man with grey eyes and a thick scar across his throat, spoke.
"You're trespassing, human." His voice was rough and grating, and held no
warmth.
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but to his shame, only a whimper escaped his
lips. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "I've come to meet Maira!"
The warrior shook his head, making his white ponytail sway. "I don't know
anyone by that name. And what would a human even want with one of our people?"
"I have something of hers—" Harry reached for the dagger, only to wince and
straighten up when a spear-tip dug into his side. "You have to listen!"
"Humans don't come here unless it's to steal from our lake," the warrior said.
"They never ask for permission. They see us as animals."
"I don't," Harry said with indignation. He racked his brain for a way to
convince them. "Dumbledore! You speak to him, right? I bet he treats you as
equals!"
A shadow of a smile crossed the old warrior's lips. "Dumbledore is...
different."
He felt a surge of hope. "Maybe I'm different too, eh? Just give me a chance."
The merman lowered the spear from Harry's neck to point it at his side, where
his wand was tied to the waistband of his trunks. "If you were, you would not
bring a wand into our home. It is an insult and a threat to our people."
Despite being hundreds of feet underwater, Harry could've sworn his mouth had
gone completely dry. His fingers twitched as he suppressed an insane impulse to
grab the eleven inches of holly and fight his way out. "Please—I didn't know—"
The warrior opened his mouth, but what he would've said Harry would never know,
because at that instant, a lilting note pierced the water, and it was the most
beautiful sound he had ever heard. Maira.
He tilted his head back to stare upwards, and there she was, arms outstretched,
beating her lustrous tail mightily and descending like an angel from
heaven—surely, given the situation, he could be forgiven the sappiness. Parting
her lips to release an entirely human-like squeal of happiness, she barreled
down at full tilt until she crashed into him, knocking him back and
simultaneously dislodging any thoughts of her not wanting to see him from his
head.
"Har-ree," she said, nuzzling her cheek against his and filling his vision with
her floating violet mane.
"Maira." He grinned broadly and wrapped his arms around her, so elated to see
her he didn't even get flustered at the skin contact.
The grizzled warrior spoke up in the tongue of merfolk, and Maira straightened
up to round on him. Shaking her little fist, she lilted and warbled while the
towering merman listened stoically. When she finally ran out of steam, he
turned his grey eyes upon Harry, who was still huddling on the gravelly bottom.
"The chieftainess's daughter vouches for you," he rumbled. "You may stay."
He gestured to the other warriors, who drew back their spears immediately, then
swam into the village, the onlookers parting reverently before him. The two
armed mermen hastened to follow, one shooting a suspicious glare at Harry over
his shoulder.
Maira watched them depart with an almost imperious expression, her hands
resting on the curves of her tail where a woman's hips would be. After they
were gone, she made a shooing gesture at the rest of the crowd and unleashed
another tirade. At her urging, the gawkers began to disperse, many pausing to
give Harry one last curious look. Once they were left in relative privacy,
Maira finally faced him, and any sign of haughtiness vanished from her youthful
face.
"Har-ree," she said, smiling brilliantly. "I—miss—you."
He goggled at her. "You learned English?"
She furrowed her brows. "A little. Is hard. But want... talk. To you."
Harry's heart skipped a beat. The thought that this charming maiden went
through all that trouble for him was immensely gratifying, and his mind went in
dangerous directions, whispering that perhaps she too was interested in him in
that way... He shook his head.
Oblivious to his inner struggle, Maira mouthed more words in rehearsal before
actually voicing them. "Why you... not come so long?"
"I was busy with school, and I can't leave my house during summer..." He
shrugged at her confused look. "Sorry. It's complicated."
There was an awkward silence as Harry tried to think of a way to explain the
Dursley situation before giving up the idea as futile. Then, recalling his
alleged purpose for coming here, he perked up and reached for the rope
fastening the obsidian blade to his ankle.
"I brought your dagger back," he said, extending it handle-first.
Maira accepted the weapon, ran her fingertip over the flat of the blade, and
laughed musically. Beaming, she handed it back. "Gift."
"Are you sure?" he asked, clutching its cool handle. Maira nodded, and he
smiled back at her. "Thank you."
In truth, he was relieved he'd get to keep the blade, both because it reminded
him of her, and because it had as good as saved his life when he was disarmed
during the third task. His only regret was that he hadn't thought to bring a
gift of his own, and he resolved to do it next time. That there would be a next
time was already a foregone conclusion.
Maira looked around, scowling at the merfolk peeking at them from behind the
houses in the distance. She wrapped her smaller hand around his and yanked him
to an upright position. "Follow," she said, filling him with a sense of déjà
vu.
He didn't hesitate this time, paddling after her at the leisurely pace she set.
When he tried to snatch his hand back, she merely strengthened her grip, so he
squeezed back gently and caught up. Being so close, he could feel water skim
off her with every dexterous motion. He glanced her way surreptitiously, found
her peering at him with a joyful smile, and looked away, feeling heat rise in
his cheeks. Swimming side by side like this felt oddly intimate, and the way
her slender body flexed and straightened was downright mesmerizing. A
treasonous part of his mind whispered that she had filled out slightly since
he'd seen her last, and he hoped his blush wasn't getting too evident.
He forced his attention back to the scenery. They had left the village behind,
but not the illuminated area, which continued for quite a ways still. Below
them were orderly patches of vegetation—from long, brownish weeds which wobbled
in the currents, to green, round-leaved plants. The occasional merperson they
saw unfailingly stopped whatever they were doing in order to gape at their
passing.
The vegetation was gradually replaced by stone and gravel, and Harry craned up
his neck to find that they were approaching a rock formation, scraggy and
irregular, and different from the one they'd passed during the second task.
Something brushed against his senses, and without conscious input, his tongue
darted out to taste the water. He shivered, trying not to fixate on Maira's
scent for it did wicked things to his body, and instead honed in on the weaker
ones. Unless he was mistaken, there were merpeople ahead.
He fell back slightly, but Maira tugged on his hand and trilled soothingly.
Together, they rose higher and swam between the jagged pillars jutting out of
the bedrock below. The ghost lights were more sparse here, and the overgrown
columns cast shadows all around, giving the place a somewhat sinister ambience.
He glanced at Maira uncertainly, but she was looking around, her small pink
tongue darting out between her lips. She swiftly changed directions, pulling
him alongside, then came to a halt besides a towering crag.
Harry let go of her hand and edged closer. There were two merpeople nearby, so
preoccupied that they remained oblivious to his presence. One was a teal-haired
boy about Harry's age, although his brawny upper body put his own to shame. In
his hand was a bone-tipped spear, the kind that Harry had the misfortune of
familiarizing himself with, which he wielded with great proficiency as he
darted between the stone pillars herding schools of panicked fish. The second
was a mermaid with mauve hair and skin of pastel turquoise; she observed the
boy, her hands clasped over her chest.
As he watched, the boy chased his prey up to a wall of rock and struck,
extending his weapon more than his body-length ahead in an eyeblink. Once the
fish scattered, it became apparent that one of them hadn't been quick enough,
now wobbling feebly on his spear. The boy approached the girl with obvious
pride and offered it to her.
The mermaid rubbed her hands, then unceremoniously ripped the small fish off
the spear-tip and gobbled it down, squeezing her eyes shut in satisfaction.
Harry's human mind was vaguely disgusted, but his stomach growled at the whiff
of blood he caught in the water. Maira giggled at his side, and the two
strangers looked their way at last, their eyes widening.
For a minute, the water rang as the three merfolk conversed in their song-like
language. Harry scrutinized the appearance of the newcomers with interest just
as they did the same to him. Then Maira waved her hand at each of them in turn,
warbling out a note, before pointing at him.
"Har-ree. Friends!"
Harry smiled at them uncertainly. "Harry," he said, pointing at himself. Then,
at the girl and the boy, "Vivi. Naab."
Naab scowled at the undoubtedly shoddy imitation, but Vivi just giggled,
fluttering her pale eyelashes. Harry looked away in discomfort; she was better
endowed than Maira, and her breasts jiggled slightly with her movements. He was
still getting used to seeing so much bare skin.
The youngsters continued to converse as they came closer and circled Harry.
Naab was content to stare, but Vivi came up to touch him curiously: the frames
of his glasses, the gills on the sides of his neck, the smooth synthetic fabric
of his trunks. He froze up until Maira swatted her hand away, trilling
chidingly. A moment later, the two girls dissolved into peals of laughter.
Naab's gaze lingered on the wand tied to his waist, and he extended a clawed
finger, speaking demandingly. Maira turned Harry's way and scrunched up her
brows.
"Show... magic?"
Harry retrieved his wand, regarding the merfolk who seemed to be watching with
bated breath as he tried to think of a good spell. He settled for summoning the
bluebell flames, deliberately pointing his wand away as he had no clue how the
charm was going to react underwater.
It came out as a fiery floating sphere, and the merfolk exclaimed in delight as
it tinted the surroundings in radiant azure. Harry poked it experimentally,
noting that just like ordinary bluebell flames, it didn't burn his flesh, and
the merpeople followed his example after some hesitation. Naab was the last to
touch it, brushing his fingertips against the flames ever so carefully; there
was an expression of wonder on his face, but at Harry's amused glance, he
crossed his arms and huffed.
Maira clutched his forearm and wiggled her tail. "More, more!"
He was only too happy to oblige. Recalling Naab's prowess in hunting, he sought
out another school of fish with his eyes, and focused on a small specimen at
its edge. "Accio!"
The fish struggled but the spell was stronger, pulling it unrelentingly towards
Harry. Once it was an arms reach away, he swiped at it with his hand, only to
have it slip out of his fingers. He groaned in disappointment, but then Naab's
clawed hand shot out and seized it before it could get away. Giving Harry a
smug look, he gulped the squirming critter down.
"Show-off," Harry muttered, eliciting giggles from the girls.
Naab sized Harry up, then warbled. He swam down to lay his spear atop a
flattened boulder before returning and speaking again.
Maira clapped her hands. "Play! Harry, play?"
"Sure," he said, grinning at her enthusiasm. "What are we going to play?"
She tapped her fingernail against her lips before pointing at herself. "I
catch." She patted his shoulder. "You catch!"
He nodded, then swam over to poke Vivi's upper arm. "Now, Vivi catch?"
"Vivi catch!" Maira exclaimed and zoomed off, Naab following suit.
Harry wasted a second simply gawking, and another few tying his wand back to
its improvised holster. Vivi, meanwhile, was twirling her tail to spin on the
spot, her eyes covered with her palm. She was still doing it as he kicked off,
but when he glanced over his shoulder moments later, she had stopped, her eyes
zeroing in on him and her lips stretching into a smirk. Gulping, he put on
speed.
He barreled towards an algae-covered pillar, then bent at the waist to
circumnavigate it. Zigzagging left and right, he avoided crashing into more
rocks by a hair's breadth; then, suddenly, he found himself in open water. His
skin tingled with the sense of impending danger, and he corkscrewed
instinctively, avoiding Vivi's charge by inches.
She made a long curve before advancing at him again, her gleaming fangs giving
her a predatory look. Harry's heart beat faster as he raced back to hide in the
labyrinthine rocks. He quickly realized he wasn't going to make it, so when his
keen senses warned him that Vivi was at his heels, he curled into a ball before
kicking upwards, hoping the sharp change in direction would throw her off.
Alas, her slender yet strong fingers wrapped around his ankle, and he yelped as
he was brought to an abrupt halt. She leered at him before sweeping him back
with her flipper as she took off. There was a glimmer of turquoise scales
between the jagged columns, then everything was still.
Despite his chagrin at being caught so quickly, he found himself grinning. He
was getting the hang of this fascinating world, of hurtling through three-
dimensional space, of his marvelously heightened senses. He adjusted his
glasses absentmindedly, then reached for his wand and stuck them to his nose
with a charm. Perhaps he wasn't going to win, but he would at least give these
merfolk a decent fight. With that thought, he set off, tasting the water for
his quarry.
The ensuing game would rank up there with his most memorable Quidditch
victories. While an impostor like him was no match for the inherent finesse of
someone who called the lake home, to his pleasant surprise, Harry discovered
that he could give almost as good as he got. It just required an equal mix of
agility and tactics.
Naab was a powerhouse, hurtling through the water like a torpedo, the
turbulence left in his wake alone knocking Harry off course. The way to avoid
getting tagged by him, Harry found, was sticking close to the rocks and
exploiting the fact that the merman couldn't turn very quickly while moving at
his impressive speed.
Maira was all dexterity and lissome grace, dancing in and out from cover and
practically running circles around him if he made the mistake of huddling in
place. In open water, however, he was capable of a short burst of speed that
was more than her match. Recalling the surprised look on her face the first
time he caught up to her made him smile every time.
The last of the trio was neither as swift nor as agile as the others, yet she
was the one whom Harry had the most trouble with. She would match his motions
as she stalked him, remaining invisible to his senses. She would lie in wait,
deathly still so as not to disturb the water, until pouncing at him from
behind. And, once she discovered how easily he was embarrassed by her
nakedness, she exploited his weakness for all it was worth. The hand he
extended towards her shoulder would instead brush her supple breast, and as he
drew back and stammered, she would tag him right back, cackling at his
stupefied expression. It was mortifying, but he was having the time of his life
nevertheless.
Once their movements grew sluggish and their attempts less spirited, the
quartet gathered in the middle of the labyrinthine rock formation, their gills
pulsing with exertion, but their faces shining with contentment. Naab recovered
his spear and went off to hunt, whereas the other three rested.
Harry surreptitiously swallowed a single cord of gillyweed from his bag,
watching Vivi drift past lazily. Noticing his attention, she shimmied her
shoulders coquettishly, making her breasts sway, and he wrenched his gaze away.
Her laughter rang in his ears.
Maira seemed to have noticed too, for she trilled at her friend indignantly.
The two girls had a short argument, which ended with Maira glancing down at her
own chest, then at Harry, and crossing her arms with a huff.
"Harry, stupid," she said.
This sent Vivi into another fit of laughter, and left Harry scratching his head
as to what exactly he'd done to offend her.
Naab returned, the four large fish impaled on his spear trailing crimson, and
the girls perked up. He yanked the fish off, handing one to each of them,
before proceeding to gut the fourth one with the tip of his weapon.
"Cheers," Harry said dubiously, pinching it by the fin. Naab gave him an
amiable nod before returning to his work.
Vivi sliced the belly of her fish using a sharpened bit of bone on her bracelet
and scooped out the innards before digging in. Harry watched her crunch on it
with relish, until a pat on his shoulder shook him out of his queasy
fascination. Turning, he jerked back a little when he saw Maira's face inches
away from his.
She pouted at his reaction, then pointed at the dagger on his ankle. "Borrow?"
"Be my guest." He handed it over.
Harry half-expected her to devour the fish whole like her friends did, but her
actions, while possessing the same brutal efficiency, were almost refined. She
gutted it, discarded the bowels, and scraped off the scales before slicing its
flesh into neat strips and placing them one by one into her mouth. Swallowing,
Harry glanced at his own supposed meal and tried fruitlessly to recall any
cooking spell that would be applicable.
A slight disturbance washed over his skin as Maira approached again. She
regarded him thoughtfully, then snatched the fish from his hands and proceeded
to prepare it like she had hers. The odor of blood grew thicker, and his
stomach rumbled traitorously. Maira looked up with a grin, then extended a
morsel of pink flesh between her delicate claws.
"I'm—I'm good," he yelped.
Frowning, she brought the morsel up to his lips, but he turned his head aside.
She trilled in amusement and popped it into her own mouth, humming in
contentment before swallowing and licking her lips. Despite himself, Harry
followed her every movement hungrily.
She sliced off another strip and offered it to him, her eyes glinting with
mischief. Harry's resistance was crumbling; it was raw, it had bits of skin
dangling off its sides, but man, did it smell good.
"At least let me cook it," he said weakly.
She brought the piece to his lips, and the tang of what his body knew to be a
fresh meal tickled his nose. "Harry. Aah," she sang into his ear, making him
shiver.
"Oh, Merlin," he muttered, staring cross-eyed at her hand. Squeezing his eyes
shut, he opened his mouth.
The tips of her fingers dipped in, placing something soft and juicy on his
tongue. He bit down reflexively, and his eyes flew open at the explosion of
flavor. The flesh was tender, fatty, almost sweet—the skin chewy and more
savory, but no less delectable. He swallowed, then ran his tongue over his
teeth, feeling an urge to sink them into the flesh of live prey.
"You like?" Maira asked, bending down to cut another bit.
"Mm. I definitely do," he said. Before she fully raised her hand, he leaned
down and captured her outstretched fingers with his lips, deftly snatching the
morsel from between them.
Maira squeaked in surprise, then giggled. Her laughter was echoed a second
later, and the two turned to find Naab and Vivi regarding them with wide grins.
His cheeks heating up, Harry scooted away from Maira as she did the same.
Vivi jabbed her fingers into the remains of her fish and clawed out an
irregular lump of flesh, which she extended to Naab. Looking amused, the young
hunter mimicked Harry's example, which, judging from Vivi's titters, pleased
her greatly.
Harry snorted at their antics, then shifted restlessly. As reluctant as he'd
been, that first taste made him realize just how hungry he was. Maira was only
too happy to help him out, appearing delighted at his sudden appetite, and the
two polished off their meal in companionable silence.
Sated at last, Harry burped then covered his mouth in embarrassment as Maira
giggled at his side. He sheepishly accepted the knife back, and cleaned it with
magic before tying it back to his ankle. Noticing Maira's fingers glisten with
fat, he waved his wand over them with a muttered Tergeo; she rubbed her
fingertips curiously before giving him a grateful smile.
A soft moan made him look over. Naab held Vivi in a one-armed embrace, kissing
her as he brazenly groped her breasts. Harry gawked openly for a few long
moments until his mind caught up with what he was seeing and he ducked his
head, his face burning. He strongly considered fleeing, but the decision was
made for him when Vivi chirped something. Glancing up warily, he saw the two
lovers whisk off, flapping their tails in unison. Naab glanced back to give
Harry a quick signal he didn't understand.
Motionless as a statue, Harry stared at the way they had left, his mind
providing salacious and entirely unhelpful speculations of what the two were
doing right now. He was acutely aware of Maira floating a few feet to his
right. The silence between them was laden with tension, and when he gave her a
sideways glance, he saw that for once, she appeared as abashed as he was.
He put away his wand, then fidgeted with his gillyweed bag just to have
something to do. When he glanced at Maira again, he caught her peeking at him,
and she averted her eyes, her cheeks tinged lavender. That made him even more
embarrassed, but he felt it was somehow his duty to defuse the awkwardness. He
opened his mouth to speak. Trouble was, he didn't know what to say, so all he
achieved was imbibing a mouthful of water.
A jolt went through his body as his tongue interpreted the bouquet of smells
without being told to. There was a remainder of their meal, a whiff of life
that called these rocks home, yet it was dominated by something he knew very
well at this point. Maira's scent, but subtly different. Heavier, more vivid,
almost... carnal.
His nostrils flared as he faced her. She was frozen in place, and her eyes
darted side to side avoiding his. He kicked his right leg to drift closer,
until they were inches apart, and stopped, vacillating, awaiting any sign that
she was feeling—well, this—too.
Her tongue darted out and her breathing seemed to hitch. She met his gaze,
peering at him with deep purple eyes, then shoved him in the chest, hard. He
didn't even have the time to feel dismay at her apparent rejection before her
lips quirked into a smile.
"Catch," she said huskily, then pivoted on the spot and scampered off, nearly
smacking him with her tail.
His knees flexed, then straightened, propelling him after her before his
rational mind had a chance to assess the situation. Her sleek body glided
through the water ahead, and as clumsy as he was in comparison, he managed to
close in on her through sheer power; then she swung her limber tail to maneuver
around a pillar, and regained her lead. Harry barreled towards the rocky column
and kicked off its slick surface for a burst of speed, but it did little to
help him for Maira switched directions, bending nimbly to dive through a stone
arch.
Harry dashed over it, barely feeling his knee scrape against an extruding shard
of rock, his eyes narrowing at the willowy form of his quarry. She didn't waste
time glancing back; that she recognized his strength, his capacity to match
her, was gratifying indeed. He went higher still, passing over the jutting-out
rocks as she zigzagged between them; he would allow her to exhaust her stamina,
then swoop down from above.
The glimmer of her blue scales vanished under a crag, and Harry veered left,
circling overhead like a shark. Hiding wasn't going to work—her scent drew him
like a beacon. He dived.
The water in the alcove roiled with sediment, obscuring his vision for an
instant, and he felt more than saw her pass by. He gave chase as she tried to
take refuge between the rocky outcroppings again, finding that despite her
superior agility, he wasn't falling back too badly.
His lips twisted into a grin. As exhilarating as the tag game had been, this
hunt—spurred by something primal, something he couldn't yet name—was on an
entirely different level. His legs pumped furiously, his lungs heaved like
bellows, yet he didn't feel a hint of fatigue as his eyes tracked the
tantalizing glimpses of his prize. Her flowing movements, the billowing cloud
of her violet hair, the gleam of her scales—he wanted to capture her, embrace
her, and... he didn't know what, exactly, but his body, hunter's blood singing
in its veins, certainly seemed to have a few ideas.
A shadowy cliff loomed in their path, and Harry kicked harder, daring to hope
he had cornered her. Yet upon reaching it, Maira curved upwards sharply, nearly
skimming the algae-covered rock. At its top, she arched her body and dived to
the other side with grace that would've put his best Wronski feint to shame.
Harry surmounted the cliff just in time to see her disappear down a shadowy
hole at its base with a whisk of her tail. He plunged in without hesitation.
Darkness swallowed him, and his outstretched palms hit rough stone painfully.
He scrabbled around, then squeezed through a narrow bend that was perilously
located right past the cavern's mouth. If Maira thought this cramped cave would
slow him, she was sorely mistaken; he could taste her weariness, and knew his
victory was imminent.
The passage expanded into a circular grotto, lit faintly by a crevice in its
roof, and he threw out his webbed palms to halt at its entrance. Maira had her
back pressed against the far wall, the gills on her slender neck pulsing
rapidly. There was no other way out as far as he could see, and he knew he had
her cornered at last. A part of his mind questioned why she would lead him to a
dead-end, but he discarded the thought as irrelevant.
He approached cautiously, almost expecting her to dodge past him, but she
merely peered at him with wide eyes, her lips parted and revealing her slightly
elongated fangs. Traversing the last few feet, he planted his palms against the
wall on either side of her slim shoulders and ran his eyes up and down. Her
violet hair glinted in the feeble rays of light from above, her pale skin was
flushed, and her chest heaved, her perky breasts rising and falling. This
close, her musk was downright intoxicating, and he didn't think he could fight
the frenzy it drove his body into for long.
So he didn't. Bending down, he did the only thing that made sense and kissed
her, claiming the spoils of his victory.
Her lips were plush and tender, but the ardor she responded with was anything
but; her nails dug into his shoulders, yanking him closer and making him gasp.
Her tongue took that as an invitation into his mouth, and after a split-second
of stunned disbelief, he decided that felt quite lovely and reciprocated in
kind. Their movements were as tentative as they were greedy, charged with
passion unlike the peck they shared last year, and neither of them seemed to be
able to stop. It was a wonderful thing that possessing a pair of gills meant
not having to come up for air.
As she leaned in to capture his lower lip between hers, her nipples brushed his
chest, reminding him that there was so much of her nubile body to explore. His
palms skimmed down her shoulders to her breasts, cupping them lightly before
giving them a tentative squeeze.
The little noise she made in response was more erotic than anything he'd heard
in his life, and he was eager to elicit more. He met her smoldering eyes before
peppering kisses down to her breasts, feeling her shiver under his touch. His
tongue looped a languid spiral around one of her perky mounds, gliding against
her silky skin until ending its journey by flicking her hardened nub.
Another sensual mewl escaped her throat, and she sank her fingers into his
hair, arching her back and pushing her chest into his face. Encouraged, he
lavished her breasts with attention. She squirmed under his ministrations, the
slight motions of her flipper sending her drifting. He growled, more in
frustration at losing contact than the pain of her pulling on his hair, and
squeezed her tail between his knees to keep her still. Her scales were firm and
smooth, and he could feel the rippling muscles underneath. Overtaken by
curiosity, he slid his palms down her sides, marveling at how soft skin gave
way to scales as he moved below her slender waist.
"Is... weird?" Maira asked quietly.
Startled, he looked up to find her staring. "No. You're beautiful." It came as
a surprise to himself, how certain he sounded.
Beaming, she snaked her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. Her body
glided against his, and he groaned into her mouth as his erection was
sandwiched between them. Maira drew back and glanced down, her eyes widening at
the obvious tent in his trunks. She reached out hesitantly, caressing him with
her fingertips, and even that feathery contact made him shiver.
She bared her fangs mischievously. "I make you like this."
A laugh bubbled up in his throat at how smug she sounded, but it changed into a
hiss when her hands resumed their exploration, tracing the contours of his cock
through the thin fabric. She crooked one finger behind the waistband and pulled
before letting it snap back, then gave him a bewildered glance.
"No buttons?"
This time, he did laugh. She frowned cutely, and when he patted her head, it
merely seemed to confuse her more.
"Clothes. Stupid," she complained.
He was inclined to agree, for any barrier separating them was a travesty. "You
just pull them down," he said, gesturing. "Want to give it a try?"
She nodded and bent lower, making his heart race. Hooking her fingers
underneath the waistband, she tugged down. His cock sprang up, bobbing
slightly, and Maira's mouth formed a small 'O'.
"Yours is..."
"Yes?" he asked, a little apprehensive. No girl had ever seen him naked, after
all.
She turned her doe eyes up at him. "Big. Very, very."
"Oh." A grin stretched across his cheeks as he kicked his trunks off. He
doubted his size bore special mention, but perhaps there were differences
between mermen and humans in this area.
"I... touch?" she asked.
His member twitched at her words, and he groaned, "Please."
She smiled, appearing to regain some of her earlier audacity, and traced his
length with her fingertips. His breath quickened at the contact, and he
twitched again. There was an expression of wonder on her face as she glanced at
him before returning to her careful investigation. Her movements gradually grew
bolder, and he unwittingly thrust his hips forward in search for more of that
sweet stimulation.
She met his eyes and snaked her right arm under his armpit to pull herself
closer. Her left hand tightened around his shaft as she snuggled up to him,
before they drifted apart again. Mewling in frustration, she embraced him with
both arms, planting her hands on his shoulder blades and squishing her breasts
against his chest. Her tail flicked, sending her lower body towards his and
trapping his erection between their bellies before she floated an inch away
once more.
"Hold me," she urged.
He wrapped his hands around her waist, then went lower. Warm skin was replaced
by hard scales, but he could feel pliant flesh underneath; he gave it an
experimental squeeze, eliciting a shiver from Maira.
Steadied by his arms, she repeated her earlier motion, gently sliding up and
down his body. Her tail flexed, its fin slipping between his ankles and its
upper half rubbing his thighs. She whined impatiently, her movements becoming
more urgent.
Harry grimaced as her scales chafed his privates; while not exactly painful, it
wasn't pleasant either. "What are you—oh."
His breath hitched as the crown of his member was suddenly engulfed by
something snug and hot. Maira froze mid-motion and whimpered, arching her back,
and he stared down at where their bodies were joined. A little below her
humanoid half was a cleft, unnoticed previously among the glitter of her
scales; he glimpsed pale pink walls and smaller inner lips, parted slightly by
his cock.
She writhed impatiently, and that was all the encouragement he needed. Holding
on to her behind, he worked his hips to push in little by little. Maira mewled
and clutched his shoulders at his every motion, and a groan escaped his own
lips once he was fully sheathed within her. Her wet heat, her scent which
seemed to have intensified tenfold, her warm body in his arms; the sensations
overwhelmed his mind, and primal instincts prevailed.
Gripping the hip-like curves of her tail, he drew back a fraction, then thrust
in, barely suppressing another groan. Maira's half-lidded eyes shot open, and
she gasped.
"You alright?" he whispered.
"Slow," she said. "Slow."
He gently repeated his earlier motion, then again, struggling to maintain the
torturously slow pace when all he longed for was to fuck her with abandon.
"Harry... fill me..." She hugged him tighter, her hair floating in a cloud
before his face.
Feeling tension leave her body, he squeezed her tail between his legs for
additional leverage and moved faster. The delicious friction of her walls was
driving him crazy. "Like—like that?"
"Yes... yes!" she breathed in his ear.
Plunging in and out of her, he gritted his teeth; how one was supposed to last
in such a situation was a mystery. He just hoped he was making her feel as good
as she him.
She nuzzled his neck, trilling something that he fancied he could almost
comprehend. The pleasure of her slick heat was becoming unbearable, and he felt
himself approach the point of no return. His will crumbled and he let loose,
pumping into her with frantic need. Her hands tightened around his shoulders as
she whimpered her approval.
One last thrust buried him to the hilt, and he groaned as he spent himself
inside her. When he could think again, he withdrew gingerly, panting for breath
despite his gills working overtime.
Maira let go, a perplexed expression on her flushed face. She glanced down and
gasped softly at a stray glob of cum in the water. "You... finish?" she asked
in a breathless tone.
He winced. "Er, yeah. It wasn't—it wasn't, um, good for you?"
She trilled throatily. "Was good. Very."
"Oh. That's... good." He ducked to retrieve a handful of gillyweed, then
resealed the bag before reclining to scarf the slimy strings down. Despite
being at the top of the world moments earlier, all he felt now was a vague
sense of shame. "Sorry. You felt so amazing I couldn't hold back."
Maira swam up to him and nestled his arm between her breasts. "A-ma-zing? Not
weird?"
"After all that, do you really need to ask?" Seeing the confusion on her face,
he added, "No, not weird. What about me?"
Her brows drew together. "Weird, a little."
"Hey!"
"Two legs. Weird!" she insisted. "But, swim good. I try very much, but you
catch."
Grinning wryly, he held up a cord of gillyweed. "I doubt I'd be as good without
this, but thanks."
Maira extended her neck to sniff the coiling plant, then wrinkled her nose.
He chuckled before slurping it down like a noodle. "Yeah, it's nasty, but it's
what allows me to stay here."
She rested her head on his chest. "You stay?"
"A while longer, yeah," he said, glancing towards his dwindling supply.
"Then..." She glanced at him with upturned eyes. "Make me feel good, more?"
He blinked—of course, if he didn't get it right the first time, he could just
try again. What a novel and utterly delightful idea. "Absolutely. Just, er,
give me a couple of minutes." He glanced down sheepishly.
She followed his gaze, then perked up and chirped, "I help!"
"Help?"
Maira wriggled down his body, resting her palms on his thighs and peering at
his half-limp member with undisguised interest. "I see Vivi do with Naab."
His eyebrows rose. "You spied on them?"
"Not spy! Accident!"
"Okay, okay. Do what, exactly?" His mind ran wild even as he spoke the words.
She ignored him, inching closer to his cock with a look of intense
concentration; her proximity alone made him stiffen. Then she lowered her lips
and kissed it, her tongue skimming his sensitive skin. Harry jerked, making her
look up.
"Was bad?"
"Not bad," he assured, and his voice must've betrayed the effect she had on
him, for she smiled toothily and returned to her ministrations.
She was timid at first, peeking at him to gauge his reaction, but her movements
soon grew bolder. Her tongue darted out, poking him, licking up and down his
length, trailing the ridge of his crown. In no time at all, he was raring to
go. Maira didn't seem to care; parting her lips, she bent down to take the head
of his cock into her hot mouth.
"Enough," he grunted, and when she didn't react, reached out to stroke her
hair.
Her eyes were glazed over as she let go of him with a soft pop. "Our scent...
mix together..."
The sight made him growl. "C'mhere," he said gruffly. "I want to make you feel
good too."
There was less fumbling this time as they embraced and she guided him inside
her. He grunted as he was enveloped by her welcoming heat, and had to pause and
take a breath before he felt capable of moving.
He started slow, gentle, but Maira had other ideas. Her tail flexed under his
palms as she made little back-and-forth bounces, spurring him on. His teeth
gritted as he increased his pace, trying to match her; the sensation of her
folds wrapped around his sensitive cock was breathtaking.
Sweet whimpers were his reward as she hugged him tighter, her erect nipples
pressing against his chest. Her gills pulsed with her breath, sending her
violet locks aflutter.
"Maira," he gasped, "you feel so good."
She tossed her head back. "Harry, too..."
Her fin fluttered back and forth, urging him on; he didn't know if he could
keep up, but damned if he wasn't going to give it his best shot. He paused to
hook his ankles behind the lower end of her tail.
"No stop," she moaned, wriggling.
He backed an inch before driving into her, and her lips parted in a gasp. With
the additional leverage, he could go harder, and from the way she mewled every
time the tip of his cock kissed her deepest spot, she rather enjoyed it.
"Yes, yes... yes!" she sang, her voice jumping an octave higher with each word.
Her fingers scrabbled along his shoulder blades, then dug into them, and she
began bouncing against him again.
It took a minute for them to match their rhythm, but once they had, it was as
if their bodies had joined in a blissful dance. No longer braced against the
floor, they were sent drifting in the twilit grotto, but Harry barely noticed;
the gorgeous creature in his arms had become the center of his world.
Her whimpers were like music to his ears, and the way her pussy clenched around
him with every stroke, as if not wanting to let go, tested the limits of his
endurance. He bowed his head to rest his forehead against hers. Her lashes
fluttered as her hazy gaze met his, and she let out a trill that was neither
English nor merfolk tongue, but a more universal language. Seeing her so
overtaken by pleasure was incredibly gratifying.
Maira's bounces were becoming erratic, irregular, and he grabbed onto her
pliant behind to steady her as he continued thrusting. The way her inner
muscles kept squeezing him threatened to undo him at any second, but he willed
himself to hold off.
Their flesh slapped together in several more frantic thrusts, and Maira cried
out, arching her back to engulf his entire length. He barely registered her
nails raking his back as she clamped around his cock, driving any lucid thought
from his mind.
"Oh, fuck," he grunted in astonishment, before he went over the edge. Her pussy
contracted and relaxed rapidly, sucking him in, and there was little he could
do but hold on for the ride, groaning in mindless pleasure.
Even after he was spent completely, he felt her continue to clench as if intent
on milking him for every last drop. He raised a hand to brush her hair away
from her face and stared at her dazed expression with wonder and no small
amount of pride. There would be no need for questions of whether it was good
for her this time.
Gradually, her slender body ceased trembling in his arms, and her purple eyes
regained focus. He gazed at her adoringly, trying to communicate something
which mere words seemed insufficient for.
"Har-ree," she spoke haltingly. "That was... was..." She warbled softly.
"I rather agree," he said languidly, and planted a kiss on her forehead.
They separated, and Maira snuggled into his side, crooning something which
sounded vaguely like a song. He hugged her around the shoulders, watching her
with lazy contentment.
Her nostrils flared, and she glanced around before zeroing in on his shoulder.
She caressed his skin carefully, then turned her wide eyes at him.
"Sorry... hurt?"
He tilted his head in bewilderment before realizing she was talking about the
scratches on his back. Chuckling heartily, he stroked her silky hair. "Don't
worry about it." If anything, it was a trophy—proof that he'd managed to make
her lose control. Admittedly, explaining the nature of his wounds to his
friends might take some effort.
Lifting his hand from her head, he took a gander at the webbing between his
fingers and sighed; it was time to renew the transformation. While he wanted to
do nothing but fall asleep with her in his arms, he couldn't forget that he was
but a guest in this world. Reluctantly leaving her embrace, he went for his bag
and squeezed the last of the gillyweed out. He swallowed it before retrieving
his swimming trunks and returning to Maira.
"I have to go soon," he said apologetically.
"No," she moaned, dismay practically written on her face. "Come, when?"
He contemplated his schedule. Lessons, detention, homework... being banned from
Quidditch almost seemed like a blessing now. "Friday next week—that's in six
days." She pouted at his words, and he added quickly, "Sorry. I really can't
make it during any other weekday, and I'm out of gillyweed to boot."
"Then... I come?" she asked.
"You?" He stared at her. Unless the merfolk had discovered the opposite of
gillyweed, he couldn't see how that was possible.
She nodded vigorously. "I swim!"
"Er..."
"Swim, to castle," she said, gesticulating. "Dark cave, smell of mold. Wall,
iron hooks. Little humans float on dead wood, every year."
He furrowed his brows as she watched him expectantly, then exclaimed, "The
dock!" Having no reason to come there since his first year, he'd forgotten it
existed.
"Dock," she repeated, rolling the word around her mouth. "I come? Tomorrow?"
"Yeah," he found himself answering. It looked like he had a way to meet
Maira—his lover—regularly. His mind was already devising a plan involving his
invisibility cloak and creative excuses to his friends. "Once it gets dark,
alright?"
Chapter End Notes
     What am I doing with my life...
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