Silver Claws and Cat Tails
Abby Ebon
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own X-Men.
Note; I so did not forget Nightcrawler (even though no one has mentioned him, I feel this must be stated) …-feels guilty for what's been done to him-…
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Magic-Does-Not-Make-Thee-Right
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Harry shut his eyes against the wind, as it tugged at his hair and seemed to pry at his closed lids. It was hard to think it to be day break with the sky as overcast and the wind as wild as it was, it seemed that the weather was affected by the Wild Hunt. Harry had known the Wild Hunt to be both ancient and primal in its methods, so it was just as well that the Hunt affected nature so vividly.
"What the hell is this Harry?" Logan had tried to keep his voice hushed; he likely thought that the movement of air kept his voice from being heard. Harry knew otherwise, though he knew also that he could not pretend not to have heard. Logan was, after all, right behind him, the warmth of his bare thighs and groin straddling Harry's back. He had almost forgotten they wore nothing save their own flesh, with the pleasant fire side like warmth of Wyrd's silk-like skin.
"Fundamentally, a rescue, though also…revenge." The answer came from Grwy, hearing her, Logan jerked only a little.
"This revenge…is for what?" Remy asked in undertone, making no mistake of knowing that Grwy – and Wyrd – overheard him. It was a good question, despite the obvious answer of his having been captured; Harry didn't truly know the reasoning of the Wild Hunt, it was something one did not dare often to guess at.
"Too long have the ways of the wizards and witches been against the nature of magic, they seek a leader, yet renounce those born to lead. They quarrel with all kinds and breeds, seeking domination. They have forgotten the old ways – they have forgotten the Wild Hunt. Forgotten that being gifted with magic does not mean gifted to rule." Wyrd answered this time, his voice like a howl in the wind.
"I'd love to know how you know Harry." Logan murmured softly somewhat doubtful in his sarcasm – which was, indeed, a first. Harry had shivered only a little, as his words whispered against the sensitive skin of his shoulder and neck. Harry bit his lip to keep from making a sound, his eyes seeking a distraction in the changing land beneath them. He couldn't afford a distraction. Things had changed since the Wild Hunt slept, and now they had woken once more, things would change – hopefully – to how they were supposed to be.
Just as the nature of the weather was reflected by nature of the Wild Hunt, so too was his own magic; buzzing in his mind filling him with potential. If he used it – if he only reached to manipulate it – he feared what he might do.
Using wild magic could kill – he would die, eventually, likely young as the wild magic flowed through him like blood, but wild magic also – its use – the feel of it, the taste of what was about him being so affected by his will, it was all too addicting.
He had known what wild magic might do to him; he had – after all – spent time among the Wild Hunt, learning to kill and control his magic that had bubbled and twisted like a spring of fresh flowing water – it had seemed to him useless to control . When Hermione had told him he could use wild magic – and was, by some twist – a mutant. He knew he would be –not might be, but would be -manipulated once more, it was how wizards and witches did things – though it was not supposed to be that way, they could have the greatest of intentions – it would still be abuse of his magic. That was if things had stayed the way they had been.
Harry had known also that among the "noise" of magic and wand waving done in magical communities would drown out the Wild Hunt's ability to find him. He had wanted to be found, and had known that –eventually – they would come to call upon him. Then he would have allies – as powerful a tool as the wild magic was, without the net of the Wild Hunt with its connected ties between banshee and sky weavers, he would be alone. It would have been very dangerous for him to be so alone without someone that knew what to watch for – the signs that wild magic tainted – and act to prevent them.
He could trust the Wild Hunt to do just that.
"He sought us out. There are ways to find us; he merely looked to find a way to kill an enemy no matter what is done in retaliation. You may imagine this challenge – brought forth by a boy – stirred the Wild Hunt to renewal." Grwy answered softly, though they could hear her well.
Harry knew that Remy and Logan only knew part of his story – they would learn more – he only hoped that until then they trusted him still. It was, he knew, a hard thing to do with the changes quickening about them.
"You mentioned a 'little witch'…?" Remy spoke thoughtfully; Grwy chuckled harshly, though it was Wyrd who answered. Harry stirred then, made curious by their amusement. It was not a good thing, though it was neither bad that they be so amused.
"Yes, one who calls herself Hermione; she sought out the star watchers with the spider kin… naturally, they called out to us." Wyrd murmured softly, Harry tensed, worried then for his friend – both Remy and Logan noticed the reaction though they were not the only ones.
"Worry not, she is well." Grwy muttered fondly to him, Harry relaxed only a little – for below them the camp came into sight; waiting for them were others who he had grown fond of, how they reacted to his return – he knew very well – might make or break him.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
"Well, it is about time!" Those were the first words of greeting Harry received from his best friend, followed swiftly by a fierce hug. He couldn't help the smile he was sure split his features. He hadn't realized how very much he had missed her.
"Apologizes, there was a…updraft." It was a poor excuse at best, or an outright lie, depending on how it seemed.
Wyrd had, after all, settled easily onto the ground, it had been a quiet decent, the storm winds oddly smooth. He tilted his head to the side, wise eyes on those that fidgeted a respectful distance away from the slender dragon. Grwy had settled against her partners' neck, watching those who watched them with equal parts amusement and a wary sort-of trust.
Hermione balanced easily on her toes, 'bouncing' in this way in place, grinning in a way that told Harry that for years after, this was going to be brought up when Harry didn't expect it, at drunken parties, maybe. An ice breaker – if only to prove the "boy who lived to be a hero" was human too.
Logan though, made no mistake of his presence, or his feelings to those that – for the most part- surrounded them. His glare was especially dark for Sabertooth and Mystique, for he seemed to avoid Magneto's gaze all together. Remy stood, only bemused, beside Harry his red on black eyes upon Hermione; Logan had lagged a little bit behind – but both kept themselves between Harry and Grwy (who they did not seem to at all trust) with Wyrd the further back, though that –Harry well knew - would make little difference in the long run.
"Not that I'm displeased that you're here, Hermione – but why are you here?" It was, after all, the thing he had been puzzled by all along. Bringer of the Wild Hunt or not, they could – he was sure – have found him all on their own. They did not need to bring Hermione to him, unless they knew something he needed to. With information especially, the Wild Hunt was strange, knowing that an individual needed to find something out was – to them – far different then plainly telling what was what.
"It's all a mess, Harry – when they found out, and when you left…it…went wrong. If you saw it, you'd hardly recognize it I…I almost think there isn't hope…" Hermione had stilled, so suddenly he had known the moment her excitement in seeing him had passed and when something too much like fear had seeped into his dearest of friends.
"Ron's changed too, they've made muggle born and half bloods worse then second class, we are – in the eyes of the Council and Ministry, barely better then magical creatures, I think." Hermione confessed, voice barely above a hushed whisper though it did no good with those that surrounded them. Harry stood with her in that moment, not sure what to think – what to say. He had been sure that with his leaving things would cool off and calm down. It was, apparently, not to be so easy.
Grwy moved, it was only a little – hardly enough to catch attention, but he looked to her. He knew then, looking at her, that this was the reason she had brought Hermione to him. So he could see the truth of what had happened with his absence. What was – apparently - happening, even now…he swallowed, and it felt bitter.
"It's bad then, huh?" Harry managed to say the words, to choke them out. Hermione managed a weak smile in return. They knew how bad things had gone, while the others could only guess. It was how he preferred it, though he knew it would not remain that way. They would know, soon enough.
"Worse then either of you know." Harry was reminded then, as Grwy spoke, of earlier words. She had told him while flying, that things in the wizarding world needed to be put right. He had always known that. He had thought there would always be time. Not any more though. If the Wild Hunt had woken – not only because of him, but because of the magical community – then things would change. Quickly. The survivors would ensure that.
Another name for the Wild Hunt had been, in the ancient days, the "Oncoming Storm". That which could not be swayed, if they woke to set the magical world to right – then things were very bad off – worse then ever before; it might be the end of the magical community, and Harry was caught in the midst of it. He looked to Hermione, who saw something in him, for she shared a pained look with him.
"I don't get it, what the hell is going on?" Harry wondered if Lance would get his answer, or if it would sooner be showed to him.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
"That's…pretty bad." It was Fred that spoke first, Harry had left them to think over what he had explained what might happen. To people he had grown up with and beside. Who he had learned to use magic with, this was something Harry cared about, that much was clear.
The Brotherhood had always been close nit – they had each other, and for so long it was all that they had needed. Harry had had a taste of being a part of a world; he had had his own notch hollowed out before he had left. Now his people needed him again. It was understandably upsetting that the ones who had taught him to protect that world might be the ones to destroy it. That too, was a part of the nature of the Wild Hunt, so far as the Brotherhood understood it.
Harry had wandered out with Hermione beside him, her arm folded in his. They looked like they belonged beside each other – though not quite as lovers, but that they were close was obvious. It partly had reminded Fred of a pack of dogs when Pyro and Lance had followed Harry out, without as much as a glance between each other. Remy had followed, as had the man – Logan – who Sabertooth had growled at. Pietro had tagged along after them, looking a bit skittish – but determined – Wanda had almost seemed proud of her twin.
Magneto and Mystique had, of course, left a little after them, Sabertooth had gone with them. It left Fred with Mortimer, and the girls – Rogue and Wanda. They were Harry's friends – they belonged with the group, but they weren't as…close to Harry as the other boys were – or his scary "best friend". Still it was clear enough that the girls approved of Hermione.
"A whole community – world, rather – is about to meet the four horsemen – and all you can say is "pretty bad"…pathetic." Wanda muttered, her eyes not meeting Fred. She was clearly worried of what would become of the Brotherhood. Rogue sighed softly, attracting the attention of the other three.
"Well, it's not like we know these people – what if they deserve what's coming to them? They seemed to have screwed what they had up nicely all on their own." She did not look anyone in the eyes after saying it. It was shameful, but it was something they had all thought. Was Harry's world really worth saving, after all, they had been the ones to outcast him.
"They're strangers." Fred agreed, glancing to the so far silent Mortimer for his opinion.
"Not to Harry – not to her – its like, I think, something alike Armageddon for them." Mortimer's voice was hushed, haunted. Fred was reminded that the Wild Hunt would strike in Europe and though it might be accidental, there would likely be collateral damage.
"So…what do we do?" Fred asked of them, frowning then only a little when Mortimer did not have an answer. For a while they sat in silence, thoughts staying and buzzing uncertainly.
"That isn't what we should be asking." Wanda spoke then, straitening, her gaze on the doors their friends had left through only a little while ago. Fred and Mortimer glanced uncertainly to each other, only then turning to Wanda. Mortimer was only a little worried for his crush.
"What is then?" Rogue had only quirked an eyebrow, though it told Wanda more then her words did.
"What will he do…and will we follow him?" Wanda asked them, Rogue nodded slowly, knowing Wanda – for now – had the right of it. She pressed her lips together, for until now they had not thought – yet – of how to get involved with that was going to happen. They had distanced themselves – but what was going to happen would affect them all.
"Of course we will…right?" Fred spoke looking first to the wiry Mortimer; he only shrugged a shoulder – seemingly relieved at Fred's words – even as if the answer was obvious. It was clear Mortimer had not been sure Fred would agree and had not wanted to go his only friend so had waited to hear what Fred would do.
"Right…." Rogue agreed then, her smile was not entirely pleasant. It promised a certain amount of danger for those that crossed her. It was a strangely comforting gesture.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
"Did you expect something like this, Magneto?" If one did not know to look for it, the lurking danger in Mystique's tone would not have been heard. Luckily, the three she stood with knew her very well. Sabertooth smirked only a little when Magneto raised an eyebrow at her, for she did not sound merely questioning – she sounded accusing.
"When I told you to take the boy in?" Magneto mused, eyes distant as he seemed to consider his own motives. He was playing though, and both knew it. Mystique pressed her lips, narrowing her eyes at the reminder that Magneto usually considered everything before doing something. He was good at chess for that reason – and he took risks others would not consider.
"Yes." Mystique did not hiss the word, but the impression of her ire was not to be easily ignored – certainly never dismissed. Magneto was not a fool, of that no one would accuse him. He did not ignore Mystique or her worries.
"No." Magneto's answer stilled them. It was somewhat shocking to hear him admit his own weakness when it came to certain knowledge. Yet he had. That above all told them how serious the situation was.
"What will you do?" Sabertooth asked boldly, and Magneto's fingers tapped a rhythm on his desk. Mystique tensed only a little. Whatever Magneto chose would change things. It was only a question of if – after this – Mystique could work with Magneto without doubting him. That was something Magneto could not afford. It was both Mystique – and to some extent – Sabertooth, knew.
"We will, for now, stand by one of our own – no matter rivalries - is that understood, Sabertooth?" A tilt of the head was all the answer that Magneto needed. It was what Mystique needed as well; to know that – for now, while it suited him – Magneto stood with her and the children. He would not give them up. They were not merely pawns to be sacrificed, as Charles' had once warned her to the nature of Magneto. It had now proved to be a lie.
"Yes sir." Sabertooth murmured with a sly smile, smelling the blood that would be spilled and revealing in it. They would stand their ground. The children, after all, had to be protected. It was the future of the Brotherhood and Magneto's mission they gambled now. There was no choice but to have victory.
"Very good – for now, we have only to wait and see." Magneto spoke, reminding both to be patient in bidding their time with preparations – but they would be ready, come what may.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
"You should get some sleep." Harry looked up, unable to help showing his surprise at who had come to visit him. He had expected Remy – or perhaps Logan, or even Pyro and Lance, but not who had walked though the door. A hand moved awkwardly though the fall of silver hair. An uneasy smile crossed his lips, though his eyes were steady. Pietro had pulled off his shirt before coming into the cabin, though his boxers left little to the imagination clinging to his hips as the bit of cloth did.
"What are you doing, Pietro?" A slight pout greeted his question, though Harry found he was more amused then left feeling guilty by it. A slanting of lips showed that a goal had somehow been accomplished. Harry flushed, looking aside wondering all the while what exactly Pietro was thinking.
"Helping you sleep." Harry could not help the slight snort of amusement the others 'answer' brought.
"Somehow, I don't think that is what is on your mind." Harry explained his disbelief, feeling slightly uncomfortable in his own t-shirt and low slung boxers. Pietro chuckled then, somehow sensing his unease and seeing the flush over his cheeks. I make this too easy for him. Harry thought, pressing his lips together. Harry did not like to be manipulated. It was something small, though it lingered all the same between them like an unpleasant aftertaste.
"Perhaps… I had something else in mind." Pietro grinned widely, hinting at things unsaid. Harry glanced upward, having mimicked the movement he saw Pyro give more then once. It was habit forming.
"I want to talk is all; seriously, I mean… do you think the others or your witchy friend would have let me wander in if I was going to ravage you?" It was part confession, though Harry could not help but notice the easy familiarity Pietro held with him. Or the fact that he was unbothered by the intimacy the lack of clothing provided, which was – for him – more then a little distracting.
"What do you want then?" Harry asked of him, ignoring for the moment Pietro's other question.
"The others are worried, you know? They think they've made you think they didn't enjoy it. Or that it was some warped rape. Or that you think their jealous of each other and won't touch them – which, I have to say, I'm surprised their taking the multiple lovers thing alright. You know what they say about too many alphas, well, maybe you don't…" Pietro trailed off, somewhat awkwardly seeing that Harry had closed off his expression.
"Who…?" Harry didn't finish his sentence, he didn't need to.
"Remy asked me to look in on you, which I don't mind, you're a stand up guy – really can't blame you for the sex either." Pietro remembered what Harry had done on the obstacle challenge from hell.
"You and Remy…?" Harry had flushed, not looking Pietro in the eye as he spoke.
"Yeah, but it was never anything, you know …so, no hard feelings, eh?" Pietro rambled, flushed, for talking about Remy and he hadn't been the reason he'd gone and spoken with Harry.
"Yeah…" Harry mumbled weakly.
"Can I ask you something?" Wary, Harry nodded, Pietro grinned, and though Harry thought he meant to be reassuring there was some mischief in Pietro.
"Why haven't I gotten even a kiss?" Pietro tilted his head to the side, smirking.
"You…I…" Harry couldn't be blamed for being taken by surprise by Pietro's words, his eyes wide.
"Yeah?" Pietro leaned in close, their breath mingling – close enough to brush lips if one of them moved only slightly.
"Aw, screw it." Harry blurted out, bringing his hand to the back of Pietro's head and pulling him in for a rough kiss.
They saw more then stars.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Men cloaked in black stood to either side, his hands were chained – so too were his feet and tail for they had learned that lesson early. They whispered of his strangeness. Of the danger of mutants, they had bled him until blue fur was coated in dried blood. They did not use weapons to hurt him, but strange sticks that sputtered to life with a word and colored lights.
With ginger hair, one of his captures – pale skin fevered and freckled - leaned in close to look at his eyes. His bland expression shifted, becoming menacing.
"Harry…we've got one of your precious mutants, come collect him or his blood is on your hands."
Ron…
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Note; my newest reading addiction is a long time favorite of mine by D. J. MacHale; his ten book series (pending the 'last' book, it will be ten in truth) is Pendragon. Why does it have me cooing over it? The "bad guy" is absolutely brilliant, not as great as Doctor Who's 'Master', but most assuredly awesome in his own way. I can not wrap my mind around the plot, too many twists and turns and each time you read it you uncover something new. Do you know how bloody rare it is for me to find that kind of challenge? Doesn't hurt that it has world upon world to get a taste of, well, only ten worlds (ten worlds/ten books, get it?), but each so very richly written about that its impossible not to love them each a little bit. Most assuredly my favorite parts of the books are the worlds, so perhaps that is why I don't mind not knowing or guessing for sure of the final outcome….
My long winded way of saying nah-nah, one chapter left….-evil laugh-
…there might be a sequel…
As to lateness, it is called work. As in, a job.
Me dislikes it. Yet it pays rent and bills and gets food…-sighs- Yay?