Under the skin

Disclaimer: everything I own is much less exciting than the characters I am using and I would likely fry my brain trying to think them up.

Warnings: sexual situations, rape, underage sex, violence, abuse, SLASH to the nth degree and complete bastardizing of two fantastic book series. Enjoy.

Pairings: they will become apparent besides the basics pretty quick but I leave this open for speculating and suggestions.

A/N: This is not the first story I've written in the long time I've been away from a working comp but it is one of the longest. My plan is to write on my spare time but to type up what I have now (my WiaFB included) and just get them out on the web before really hitting the paper again. I Have a LOT of stories so bear with me here. Sadly Partnership will be on a permanent hiatus for a long time unless someone wants to adopt it. I have lost my fervour for hp/dm fics. That's why Wizards in a Fruits Basket will have some minor changes to the story line but not the posted chapters. That's all I have to say for now. Reviews or complaints are welcome.

Chapter one:

Harry Potter had been dreaming all of his life. In the darkness of his cupboard, he would travel to strange lands full of fantastical creatures and people.

There were forests and fields where he found wolves and felines, larger than himself, that he could run and play with. The cubs, he would tackle and wrestle with, sometimes hunting each other in a skewed version of hide-and-seek that he had once tried to explain. The elder beasts would pull them together and teach true hunting, and the basics of survival, that had saved harry more than once when the Dursley's had forgotten him outside, locking the doors, when his chores ran late. Harry had made himself a little den in the nearby park when he was five for just those nights, sometimes praying that a wolf or tiger would find him and stay but he knew it wouldn't be the same. No animal he had met while awake could talk in his head like they could in his dreams.

In an out of the way valley, Harry had found a small herd of the most beautiful equines that he had ever set eyes on, a few weeks after his third birthday. That night he had spent his entire dream just watching their slow, graceful movements as they grazed peacefully, from a steady perch on a branch of a dead tree. He repeated this the second night and the third, keeping his distance but never actively hiding. On the fourth night, the equine Harry had decided was the leader of the herd approached him menacingly. Harry had slip off his branch to tumble to the ground, staring in shock at the spiralling ivory horn protruding from the crown of its forehead. Harry wasn't able to do anything to answer the angry voice buzzing across his mind as the enormity of actually facing a unicorn froze the toddler. Confused at the wide eyed, barely breathing, tiny human, the unicorn stallion had bowed down to nudge the mop of raven hair with his muzzle. Tears had spilled forth with the first chuff of hot breath, smelling of grass, on his flushed face. Unable to control himself, Harry had flung far too skinny arms as far around the thick, furred neck as he could and cried softly against the equines barrel chest. The unicorn himself had trembled with shock at the sudden, unexpected move, but relaxed, fully taking in the pain, sadness and joy from the boy. From that day on the stallion and the herd welcomed Harry, teaching him to ride both horses and what they called the Winds. The Winds came in different colours that got darker as they got stronger, and that a person could only ride the Wind that was the same colour, or lighter, as the stones they carried. Harry was delighted to find that they all opened for him. Welcomed him, even. In the waking world he could almost feel the Winds lacing the plain land he lived on but the noise and electricity muffled anything definitive. He was not yet willing to make a blind leap into that sweet darkness, especially if there was a chance that he would fail. He could not handle the possibility that his dreams were just that, dreams.

His most confusing friends were the spiders . They couldn't play with him like his other dream friends but they told him wonderful riddles. The smaller spiders would crawl all over him, tickling his exposed skin with their soft legs, as they taught him how to weave his own webs, how to fill them with his thought and hopes and evens his most secret wishes. Sometimes he would sit in the hidden cave below the spider's home and watch the largest golden spider, the one they called Weaver of Dreams, weave her giant web and marvel at the stories hidden in the strands. His insect friends he met when he was seven around the time his right ring finger began to blacken and ached horribly. They had taught him first about the snake tooth and the venom and how to care for them both. He gained his first real hope with the spider when, on the following morning, he woke to find the nail still black and pointed. He hid it for a while with a band-aid, citing an injury that none questioned, until he found enough change to buy a bottle of black nail polish. It was cheap and chipped easily but it covered his nails well enough. What it did not do was help dispute the reputation Petunia had been feeding the neighbours about him.

There were others, people with fey features and vicious strength, the large centaurs with their equine bodies, and a strange snake like woman whom he felt so much love for. His two favourites, though, were the young golden eyed winged boy, who wanted so badly to teach Harry how to fly, and Tersa. The older woman, with the wildly tangled black hair, always welcomed him in her disjointed way. He knew she saw things that were beyond his understanding for now but she loved him, unconditionally, and he returned that. She had cried the first time he had called her Grandma, but she had cried harder when he stopped, thinking he had upset her. He especially enjoyed the misty place that she walked with him but he was always careful to remember their path so he could lead her to the border lands again. Only once had he come to see her when she was already lost and the hunt had scared him so badly he had been openly wailing by the time he had found her. As she had comforted him in a grainy field of chattering flowers, and promised to leave markers when she walked alone. Harry accepted this only after erecting a shining beacon on the border that called to all those who wanted to find their way.

It would be years before he realized how much chaos that pillar had created.

In the waking world, when he was very young, Harry had told his relatives, his aunt specifically, about his dream world. When the blood had stopped flowing and he was allowed to crawl from the darkness of his cupboard to the bucket of dirty water waiting for him a week later, he quietly denounced his dreams to a towering uncle and accepted the list of strenuous chores that would earn him food. Upon entering school with his cousin, Harry had half entertained the idea of sharing his dreams with these new people but after a few words with his relatives the new adults would look at him with the same disgust and wariness as the rest. The students avoided him once Dudley made and example of the a little boy who talked to him on the first day, so Harry kept his dreams to himself. He grew up in two different worlds.

The day that owls surrounded their home, Harry had the burning hope that they were Kindred come to lead him home. It was replaced by a hollow disappointment when he realized that they were simply messengers attempting to deliver a copy of the letter that his relatives were trying so hard to keep from him. He had been genuinely surprised at the sight of the half giant, Hagrid, but the thought of magic re-lit his his hope at finding a way into his dreams.

Magic was fascinating and once Harry knew what to search for, he found that deep well of power embracing him so completely. The books he managed to sneak into the stack Hagrid helped him purchase, explained magic differently than what Harry felt, but the principle was the same. He had trouble with the wands, unable and unwilling to allow them to synch with his core until he was given one that felt incomplete. The holly wand easily allowed his dark power to flow through it, like a focus, but didn't try to cling to him like the others. He knew it would simply be his instrument as it waited for the day that he would complete it.

That first day of magic was also the day that he met Hedwig. Hagrid said that said that she was a gift but Harry knew that she chose to stay with him the moment his mind automatically reached out to hers like it did with all the kindred. She wasn't quite strong enough to be kindred yet but he could sense her and her feelings, finding she absolutely hated being caged. Having ignored Hagrid's warnings, Harry opened her cage and let her fly free. When she settled on his shoulder she was heavy but he wouldn't have moved her for the world.

Hogwarts, and he wondered why anyone would name a school after something so gross, was as beautiful as he knew it would be but the home of his heart would always be what Draca called The Keep. He did meet the boy Draco for the second time, who's name he liked but found the boys attitude not living up to the strength in it. Knowing he would wind up embarrassing or hurting the masculine-form-of-Draca, Harry had chosen to be in the lion's den, promising to apologize to the Keep's Seneschal later. Surrounded by new people and wonderful feats of magic, Harry felt comfortable, if not totally relaxed, for the first time in his waking life. He didn't mention his dreams to his new friends or the kindly old Headmaster, not trusting anyone fully, save Hedwig, ever since finding out they all thought he was some kind of Savior. Only two people saw him as nothing more than human and they all agreed to keep the friendship secret, due to the stupid house rivalries.

The whole first year disenchanted Harry towards the world of magic with only a few highlights in the same time period. One such highlight was the birth of Norbert. The newly hatched dragon, the first he had ever seen, had imprinted onto Hagrid as its mother but as soon as it caught sight of Harry it had crooned and preened for his approval, awkwardly crawling all over him. The teen himself could not keep from visiting the little Ridgeback every chance he got until Ron's older brother was able to come collect him in secret. There was a hair raising moment where the dragon, almost as bit as Harry by then, would not unwind himself from the teen to enter the transport crate at the top of the astronomy tower, but Harry reluctantly talked him into it. The burly red head, that had to be Ron's brother Charlie, had given him a speculative look until Norbert's mournful keening sent them all into a panicked scramble.

The second and, dare he think it, most important highlight was when he learned to fly. Supposedly his father had been a good but he couldn't really bring himself to care. All he knew was that he was finally joining his winged brother in the air.

Harry continued dreaming through the year, enjoying Winsol with both sets of his friends, and watched his dream wold continue to heal from some great cataclysm that had purged bad things from the land before his time. Just like every year he watched the grey,flat realm, below all others, regain its small population of dead. He never approached them but he watched them cope with their new existence and sympathized silently. Sometimes he would see a beautiful blonde woman walking among them, seeming like the only spot of colour in their new lives.

She had stolen his breath at his first glance at her, seeing the thin, overly frail body hide a deep well of strength that birthed a longing within him that he could not handle. Since that first night when he was nine, Harry had avoided her with a passion while still stealing glimpses when he could.

The year ended in sever disappointment for Harry, that he hid from everyone but his two secret friends. The attempted theft of the Stone, that should never have been in the school, that turned into a fight for survival was a major check on his list of unhappy experiences. It was not improved by the Headmaster's blatant favouritism during the Leaving Feast.

In the summer that followed, Harry was surprised with a new room at the Dursley home. It was given to him out of fear but the mass of locks and barred windows seemed fairly standard. Vernon ultimately displayed his anger in the usual was but he was careful not to damage Harry's face or arms. His impromptu rescue after his birthday endeared the three red-head brothers to him far more than they realized but his trust in Ron would not last past the first two moths of school. The twins, however, had won his loyalty with their own. The little house elf that had been causing so much chaos, trying to keep him in Privet Dr, had slowly grown on Harry. He just only to remember that Dobby answered best to direct, and firm, commands, which he had not known when the barrier to the train locked out him and Ron. Whatever had possessed Harry to agree to Ron's suggestion of using the flying car to get to Hogwarts, he could never figure out, not for years.

It was during the school year that he met a new woman in his dreams while he was visiting grandma Tersa. The shattered Widow had brought the white-blonde woman, with her weak legs, to teach him what she herself could not. The woman, Karla, accepted the moment he had laid eyes on him, promising to keep it between the three of them. Thus Harry began to learn Craft, though no on made a comment on the fact that he had no Jewels.

Less and less did Harry want to be in the waking world, especially when Basilisk was turning people to stone and the blame was turned on him. The twins and his true friends were his only supporters, prompting him to pull further away from the 'Golden Trio'. In the end, Harry was forced to fight beside Ron at the want point, wielded by their moronic DADA professor. Thanks to the Weasley's broken wand, he was able to save the youngest of the Weasley brood and kill both the basilisk and Tom Riddle's shade. The moment the diary flooded the ground with ink he had begun to milk the snake tooth under his nail, forcing out drop after drop as he felt the Basilisk's venom chasing his veins. He was sure it wasn't going to work, that he was going to die in agony on the dirt encrusted floor of a forgotten chamber, when he heard a soft trill and soothing drops of life fell on his torn arm. Fawkes had cried for him, inadvertently changing his venom. Once he told the Weaver of Dreams of his adventure the spiders had gone into a frenzy, testing his venom and blood, searching for any changes and, once they realized the general condition of his abused body, called in a kindred healer. He let them, touched by their concern, but would not answer any of the questions on how he sustained his injuries. In the end the results were his blood having healing properties when applied to potions, he donated some when asked if they could give it to their 'Lady', and his venom was as potent as a Basilisk's, the only antidote was to be found in his blood. This all happened during his thirteenth summer, but while still in the Chamber, he hadn't noticed Ginerva waking until he was already healed. By then there was no way to hide his nature.

They had stared at each other for a good minute in mutual awkwardness until Harry ventured first with a soft, "Don't tell, okay?" she had agreed and he had gained another loyal friend as she thankfully took more after the Twins than Ron. Only those three Weasley siblings knew about his real friends and his suspicions about the other two thirds of the 'Golden Trio', all of them agreeing to keep an eye of his 'friends'.

That summer, after his visit to the Weaver of Dreams, his Aunt Marge came to visit. For once Harry found he could no withstand the brutal taunts so he ran away, after accidentally turning the visiting waste of flesh into a human balloon of course. It was on a sidewalk, that Harry got a premonition of what his third year was going to be like. Staring into the darkness he had seen a large, mangy black dog watching his every move from across the street. Keeping eye contact to prevent bolting, Harry had dug out a baggie of sandwiches meant for Vernon's lunch the next day. He had coaxed the dog over with food and checked him over carefully. Recognizing the breed he cast a small illusion web, making it look like a black Lab instead of a Grimm. Lighting up a small ball of witchlight to study his work, Harry had been startled by a large purple bus appearing with a bang. Hedwig had taken flight, crying out that she would follow when he had decided to board. He had introduced himself and his canine friend as Cain and Able, respectively, earning a huff from the dog that sparked his suspicions but the beast just followed obediently.

On the bus, safely centred on a bed, Able splayed out across his legs, Harry had begun a simple healing web to deal with the dog's malnutrition and exhaustion. Blue-grey eyes that were so rare in a canine watched him steadily, widening when Harry began to sing and the magic took affect. The healing lasted until just moments before the bus arrived at the destination, which was fortunate as they were greeted by a pompous windbag the moment he stepped off. Cornelius Fudge would never bee Harry's favourite person. The rest of his summer was uneventful save finding out that a man, Sirius Black, had broken out of the wizarding jail, Azkaban, to kill him, which he doubted. The monster books for Care of Magical Creatures were amusing for Harry. When he stepped in the bookstore they would flock to the cage bars, vying for his attention. He would. He had helped the owner by climbing in and calming the raging paper beasts so he could sell them. Able had done his part to help by pouncing on the runaways that managed to slip out of captivity.

Harry had been saddened when able refused to get on the train, but understood once he was rudely introduced to the Dementors for the first time. The helplessness he felt as he relived his own memories terrified him. He did not question it but Able was waiting for him At Hogsmead station. Coming to school like a regular student that year, Harry was surprised to see winged skeletal horses hitched up to the carriages. He had wondered why most student were ignoring the interesting looking creatures while some, like Neville Longbottom, were casting them hesitant glances. Following the lines of students, when he approached the two closest carriages had diverted off their path, converging on him. He had laughed as they nuzzled and nudged him into petting them before he could urge them back to work. He ignored the questions spilling from his trailing Gryffindor duo while boarded a coach pulled by a pair, of what he would later know as thestrals, that were far too pleased with themselves. Able must have felt the need to be included for he had trailed him, claiming the vast majority of the coach floor.

When asked about the dog he answered 'He followed me home.' earning another huff from the dog. Through the year Harry noted that Able would not step a paw into certain areas like the potions lab or the DADA classroom. He loved scaring Trelawney, having her scream about Grimms whenever he popped up. How he got up the ladder, Harry didn't care to think about. The canine would also disappear at random times, like when Sirius Black broke into the boy dormitory or when he lost his broom to the Willow, only to receive a new and better one, but Harry accepted it all silently. Just like he accepted the fact that he could not visit Hogsmead with his friends, instead using the map from Fred and George to fully explore the castle. That was how he found the Room of Requirement and where, near the end of the year, he confronted his canine companion.

A/N: All right. So this is sort of a prologue and the next chapter will be written differently. Actual dialogue is forthcoming and the story won't be so choppy. This first chapter is mostly Harry's memories and what he deemed important in his life. The rest of the story will be more linear and me characters from both HP and the Black Jewels series. If you don't know the trilogy that I am crossing over with (and I have a few other works that are apart of that universe) then I suggest you look up Daughter of the Blood, book one of the original trilogy by Anne Bishop. I have read it so many times that I swear I could quote passages. It is beautifully dark so I do warn you that some of the concepts and situations in the books might disturb some readers. Thought if you really like my stories then it might just be your cup of tea.

This story is set after the last book so there might be some spoilers if you a re going to read the series but I will try and keep the details that don't affect Harry to a minimum.

Enjoy.