Penndragonne

By Tashasaphi

Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own a gender confused Unicorn named Tasha. I am considering buying him a tutu. I do not, however, own a gender confused Dragon. I wish I did from time to time, but they would just fight.

Year 6 and all is not well at Hogwarts. After a devastating attack on the castle, the world is turned topsy turvy for the work-stressed Harry, and he finds a new light in a new companion…A story of love, friendship and abusing ones minions

WARNINGS: SLASH ON THE WAY.

A/N

CHAPTER 9! Next chapter is going to be the smut, but it'll be on this account, cause it's no worse than anything else I've seen on this site.For future reference, my adult fanfiction account is at this address:

http/adultfan. those of you at adult fanfiction- I'm Tashasaphi at I'll link to the uber smut when it comes... geddit? Whahaahaa I crack myself up. I'll try and get some misdemeanour into this chapter, myarharharhar...

Thanks for your continued support!

Halloween at Malfoy manor started with slick precision. A supremely prepared breakfast, the servants in masquerade, and beautifully crafted decorations that had appeared overnight. Harry and Ron, trudging into the hall later after an evening spent hunting the mansion for traces of the little Silver escape artist. Not only the evening, of course. Ron had retired when the clock struck midnight, but Harry had carried on. And Ron hadn't gone to bed. Hermione's letter of 'Why haven't you written and told me EVERYTHING yet!' had arrived with dinner, and he had dutifully spent the unholy hours of the morning scribbling a very messy, sleepy reply. Harry had crept all the way back up to the Malfoy corridor. He had even told the two scary Chimera that he had freed Thron. The smaller one had looked distinctly pleased. However, they didn't speak Parseltongue, so they couldn't answer any questions about Silver. Harry had departed pretty quickly from that area anyway. He was wearing his invisibility cloak, but half way through his conversation with the Chimeras a door has opened, allowing flickered faint firelight to trickle into the hall...

The Chimera froze up, glossy eyed, terrified, and the door swung shut after a glimmering figure exited. Harry couldn't really see it. It walked so gracefully to almost appeared to float. It glimmered with some unnatural glow, and it was ghostly pale, but not a ghost. Harry had seen ghosts. Lots and lots of ghosts. This wasn't even a poltergeist. This was something terrifying and wrong. It's head had rolled round lazily and started right into him with eyes like flaming coals, and he felt shivers of terror, and unnervingly of pleasure crease him under his invisibility cloak. The pale face, so soft of features the glows reduced to almost nothing, had stayed emotionless, gazing, glaring, whatever it was doing, right into him. The feelings racing through Harry felt so familiar, and so familiar to this place. However, there was no heat, no terrifying burning, only cool, complacent lunar brilliance glinting of the spectre. Harry bit his lip to suppress the moan that the gaze of those eyes could elicit. As suddenly as it had started staring, however, it stopped, and the chimeras flinched. Harry let out a silent sigh of relief, but stared curiously as the figure crossed the lush corridor. It raised a hand and gently opened a door. The house creaked wantonly. Harry noted, curiously, even through his odd, respectful terror, than one hand was dripping a suspicious white liquid. It ran in tiny rivulets over and around the slender, glimmering hand, dripping carelessly and thickly off the slim, long index finger. With a sound like rushing wind, a howling of the beams of the house, and the soft click of the door, it was gone, and the corridor was dark and still again. The little smears of white melted into the floor and walls and vanished, but the slightly musty smell of their true nature lingered a little. The Chimeras looked at Harry meekly, whimpering. Harry, in a burst of courage, ruffled the coats a little in comfort, before standing up. He jumped when the portrait behind him snored loudly, before hurrying off to new locations. That corridor... was just TOO weird.

'So no such luck, then?'

'No. Thron said that Silver can't be dead, but for all I know he could have escaped by now, or died since Thron spoke to his nephew.'

'Did you try speaking to the nephew?'

'Of course,' Harry snapped. 'He didn't speak parseltongue at all.'

'That's a bit of a problem,' Ron sighed. 'What about that lizard though?'

'Damn!' Harry gasped. 'I was supposed to go and speak to him yesterday!' The words haunted Harry's mind- his promise to go and speak to the little brass prisoner, and it's warning about the corridor on Sunday. Harry felt a chill run down his spine. From what he had seen so far, it hadn't lied to him...

'Well, go see him today. Mum and Dad have snuck off somewhere- Dad mentioned something incoherent about electrickshons...'

'Electricians.' Harry explained. 'Muggles who deal in electrical things, like machines. And I can't go and see him today. He's right up in the private wing!'

'Invisibility cloak. Duh.'

'Tried that,' Harry said. 'There are... things up there that can see through. And he told me not to go up there today. I went up there... must have been early this morning. There was something...' Harry broke up. 'We just, can't. Okay?' Ron pouted, Chudley chewing at the frayed edged of his scarf.

'I bet Silver's up there,' he mused. Harry raised an eyebrow.

'Silver is a coward at the best of times,' Harry mused. 'You said so yourself. Why would go up to the top of building, up hundreds of steps, past killer chimeras to get tangled up in the corridor from the black lagoon?' Ron smirked.

'But he's a captive of the "Bad Man", right? And the "Night Creature" we saw last night. Captives don't get to choose where they're kept. And if all you say about this corridor of doom,' Ron's voice dripped sarcasm, 'is true, then I can't think of anywhere else I'd want to lurk if I was a big scary black bed sheet.'

'It was a lot more than a bed sheet, Ron,' Harry chided. 'But you've got a point.'

'Failing that,' Ron mumbled. 'We could try that Martyn bloke aga-'

'Don't even suggest that,' Harry snapped. 'He's...' At that precise moment Martyn Crabtree entered the hallway they were walking down, face blanched, eyes a little puffy, talking rapidly in what sounded like Russian to the maid who was blubbering at his side as they rushed along, barging past Harry and Ron blindly. Harry took a moment to look around. All along this portrait gallery there were staff muttering to each other, horrified and shocked. They kept entering and exiting, and in the distance, in other halls and room and corridors there were not only the wails and cackles of the Halloween decor, but true sobs of dismay and gasps and wails of shock and terror and misery.

'Something's wrong...' Harry muttered.

'You don't say,' Ron shot back. Someone barged past them in the opposite direction.

'I want Crabtree in my office immediately! Call in the stable boys in tens. Then the guards. The Chimeras must be brought into the annexe! Now, Frida!' Lucius Malfoy's enraged tones echoed down the corridor, and a young maid scampered off with her instructions. Lucius turned off sharply and ascended the spiral stairs at the end of the way. His voice echoed out from the corridor above, calling some indescript name with rage.

'Much trouble in paradise, I see,' Ron mumbled. 'Something really bad must have happened.'

'Maybe a topiary fell over.'

'Or someone over cooked tonight's main course.'

'Or someone changed his hair tonic for whisky.'

'Who knows?'

'The world is full of wondrous mysteries.'

'Harry!' Harry wheeled around. Martyn swept towards him, looking distraught. 'I have to talk to you!'

'Lu-Lucius was looking for you... I mean Mister Malfoy... er...' Harry felt awkward. Martyn grasped his shoulders and pushed him into a room off the corridor.

'Hey!' Ron yelped as Martyn slammed the door and locked it. It was a tiny lounge, with a sofa, and arm chair and a fireplace. There was also a scary looking pot plant that wriggled from time to time and a large, stuffed phoenix in the corner, and several portraits, but it was a cramped room compared with most in this place. Harry rather liked it.

'Sit,' Martyn panted. Harry obliged quickly. Martyn slumped into the armchair, raking his hands through his hair.

'What's up?' Harry asked meekly, perching on the sofa. The fire crackled in the background. Martyn looked at it for a few moments, before swallowing hard, eyeing Harry.

'The pendant,' he finally croaked. Harry swiftly took it out form under his shirt.

'Here. They came round to get all the others, but I managed to keep it safe.'

'Good,' Martyn smiled mirthlessly. He reached out and touched it, before recoiling and hugging himself.

'We found Evelyn,' he finally said.

'That's great!' Harry said quickly. Finally, he could give back the pendant. Evelyn had put himself at great risk for Harry's mischief.

'Hmm,' Martyn managed to reply. 'Harry, I've got to speak to Lucius.'

'I know. He was yelling.'

'I... I haven't got anything to tell him.'

'What?' Martyn moved forward in his seat, grabbing Harry's knees, his watery eyes glaring into Harry's. Harry froze up.

'Listen to me,' Martyn hissed. 'This is important. This isn't any of your silly, chimera releasing games anymore.'

'You knew about that?' Harry managed to squeak. Martyn's hands were icy cold on his knees, and they were gripping hard.

'We can count,' Martyn snarled. Harry felt a shiver of what could have been fear pass through him from the ice in his tone. 'That's not important. Two chimera do not matter like this does. Malfoy... he's going to get a lot of stick for this. And that is just what he doesn't want or need.'

'Martyn-'

'Listen, brat,' Martyn snapped. 'Tell me exactly what happened. The night you came here. Evelyn gave you the pendant...' Harry didn't respond immediately. Martyn's hands were hurting him.

'Answer me!' Martyn shouted. Harry jolted.

'He left!' Harry blurted. 'The maid took me and Ron out, and he left through the door we came in through!'

'More!' Martyn snapped.

'There isn't anymore!' Harry protested, but the sound was stopped short when something came into contact with his face, knocking him backwards onto the sofa. When he looked up, Martyn was looming over him, seething, one hand raised.

'I can hit you again, boy,' Martyn snapped. 'It doesn't bother me.' He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer. 'Tell me what I need to know, or else?'

'Or else what?' Harry growled. 'I already told you what I know? You want me to describe weather conditions or something? There's nothin-' Slap. Martyn struck him again.

'Tell me,' Martyn hissed. Harry frowned. His face stung.

'Evelyn left through the door we came in through. He walked out and we left through the other door. That's it.'

'Where did he go?'

'What's up with him if you're so interested?' Harry managed to get the question out before Martyn grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and thwacked his head back onto the chair hard. Despite it being a sofa, it still made Harry's head spin.

'Listen, you,' Martyn snarled. He was a lot stronger than he looked. This angry side was really well hidden. 'I went to Durmstrang. With one wave of my wand, I've gutted Gorillas and torn horses limb from limb. Imagine what I can do to a little brat like you who's getting in my way-'

'Quit threatening me,' Harry writhed in his grip. 'I've told you, Evelyn left, and I didn't see him again!'

'Not good enough!' Martyn shouted over him, pinning Harry down. 'What's it gonna take to get more information out of you? Huh? What do you need as a stimulus...' Harry paled. Martyn's eyes were hollow, stormy and dark as he leaned closer, his weight smothering...

'CRABTREEEE!' The holler was deafening. Martyn snapped away like a bullet. He threw Harry onto the floor.

'Whatever,' he snarled, sniffing. 'He'll find out what you know anyway.' Martyn flopped onto the sofa.

'Poka,'1 he hissed, before the sofa suddenly shot straight upwards and melded through he ceiling, vanishing without a trace. Harry sat there, stunned, sickened and horrified, his heart pounding against his ribs, gulping air. He sat there in fact, for sometime, just him, the scary plant, the stuffed phoenix and the fire, until Ron's banging on the door and calling for him called him back from his repulsion, and he managed to get up, tuck the pendant away, forcibly unlock the door and escape.

Silver lay sprawled inelegantly across the bare legs of his captor. The creature, whose slim, mischievous fingers were coiling and uncoiling the penndragonne's tail and caressing their owners full, soft white lips, moved suddenly to the top of the tiny head, stroking the carved lines of the jaw, before returning to between the eyes, burning hot. Even in sleep, the penndragonne writhed, one deceptively strong hand clawing his body down onto the bare velvet skin of the long, slender legs. The penndragonne let out a yelping moan, it's eyes screwing up, it's needle like teeth bared. Eyes flared like coals, and those white lips curled into a nasty smile as the foggy path of memories opened up easily for him. The door slammed open. The penndragonne fell still and limp on the pale lap, and the hands fell into the monotonous, believable pattern of stroking the silvered skin of their captive. Narcissa Malfoy's French kitten heeled shoes clicked across the floor. The maid crouched down, unaware of the looming presence in the high backed chair. Her skirt rose as she bent, revealing the lacy tops of expensive stockings. The predator, the captor, allowed his eyes to wander hungrily. He wondered greedily how many times Lucius had seen the tops of those same stockings. How many times he'd pulled those stolen shoes from the slut's feet and thrown her across the study desk he so often sat his bastard son down to work at. The creature's eyes burned hot into the girls back, and she suppressed a gasp as her cheeks flushed, but she diligently continued in her work, blaming her own dirty mind. Her little body bobbed as she cleared the ash from the fireplace. The penndragonne flopped limply in his pliant hands. He allowed himself a small smile. The girl bent lower, her skirt hoisting further, revealing more of her pale thigh. The creature bared it's teeth. How often had Lucius' nails left marks on that soft flesh? How many times had that skirt been hoisted in this silly little study before? How glorious it would have been to have had her Ladyship wander in whilst that skirt was still flying high, and he was still pounding into her. What a malicious little scheme, the predator thought to himself. What a simply wonderful feeling of mischief...

'What are you doing in here?' Click click click. New shoes for the Lady, he noticed. These must have been the new french fashion. She spent so much time there.

'My lady!' The maid managed, hopping up. 'I was... You're...?'

'It does not matter,' Narcissa hissed cooly. 'Get out. You can finish later.'

'Very good, my Lady,' the Maid huffed, her face burning. She breezed out, and Narcissa fell into one of the chairs. The predator sat, unnoticed, hands secretly burning patterns into the Penndragonne's skin. It eyed the woman contemptuously. What a pompous woman. What a poor representative of the female race. She disgusted him. And so blind! Here he sat, what she drove herself mad to try and find, and she was too stuck up and arrogant to see him! Oh how he loathed her. How he enjoyed burning her in her sleep, driving all pleasure from her icy mind, making her life a hell. She deserved it. Her poison had to be eradicated, one way or another...

'There you are,' she said in a soft mewl as boots clapped into the room and the door swung shut. The predator tensed up.

'You should be in bed,' the voice snarled. 'Where they all think you should be. You'll arouse questions.'

'No one comes up here,' she whispered. 'They don't have to know.'

'I have opened my house!' A fist impacted with the well used study desk, rattling a vase.

'They could come here if they liked. You will go back to your hiding place and keep your head down.'

'It's dark down there,' she hissed. 'Morgana is prudent-'

'Stupid bitch!' A sound of fists colliding with flesh and a cry of pain. 'Brainless wench! Do not speak of her here as if she were a friend. Something we speak of!' A long pause.

'The walls have ears.' Grey eyes scouring white flesh hungrily. Meeting those enflamed eyes with undisguised lust. Perfect.

'Get out,' the voice finally purred, ice on his lips. 'Out of here.'

'I will visit my family.'

'Good. Out of the country.'

'Yes. Where there is sunshine and air. I am not a dungeon dweller.'

'I am aware of that,' the voice drawled nastily. 'Out of here.' And she apparated. Lucius fell on the predator, hands around his neck, throttling. the enflamed eyes rolled back, and the sweet voice cried out dryly, fingertips clawing powerlessly.

'Never do that again,' Lucius snarled. 'Never!'

'Of course, master!' he wheezed, tears pearling. Lucius snarled, watching those lips turn rose, as if paint bled into them, and those inescapable eyes lock with his and burn for his forgiveness. They dried his mouth, made his heart throb in his ears. Enraged, he threw the creature aside. It impacted with the floor and then the wall, knocking over the chair it had sat it. It lay, sprawled, it's long nightshirt keeping it's dignity as it eyed him like a forlorn puppy. Lucius bent and picked up the discarded penndragonne, running his hands over the silver runt critically. He frowned, before tossing it back to the boy-like creature.

'Put this filthy thing in a tank,' he snapped. The predator looked surprised, before smirking.

'Anything for you,' it purred, before scampering out of the door and slipping unnoticed into another chamber, just as Martyn Crabtree and several maids entered, looking uneasy. Lucius sighed, sitting behind the desk, setting up a quill.

'Sit down,' he snarled. Reluctantly, they complied.

Halloween seemed uneventful for Ron and Harry. Silver was still no where to be found, and by lunch time, they had gone to the main lounge for a light lunch. Ron sat on the floor, bonding with Chudley, but Harry sat in an ornate armchair in the corner, away from everyone. He was vaguely reading Hermione's letter, but just barely. The portraits were chattering, and with the buzzing worries in his head he could hardly concentrate. The portrait next to him depicted a man playing with two chimera pups. Harry turned in his seat.

'You're Amadeus, right?' he asked, quietly so no one noticed. The man in the painting looked up.

'I am,' he said in a soft, deep voice. If he had been corporeal, it would have been the kind of voice that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Harry frowned, an idea flooding his head.

'How many portraits have you got?' He asked.

'Where?' the young man replied. 'In the manor?'

'Yeah.'

'An unusual question,' the man pondered, before smiling. 'It's that sort of thing that keeps one feeling sprightly. I have 42 portraits in this mansion.'

'I see,' Harry said softly. 'And you can travel between them, right?'

'Of course.' Harry frowned.

'This is going to sound rude,' he said softly, the portrait listening intently. 'but... could you look for something for me?'

'I might have already seen it,' the man said with a grin.

'A penndragonne?' The man raised an eyebrow.

'There's one down there with the red headed boy.'

'No!' Harry hissed. 'Another one. My one. It's smaller and-'

'You actually lost your penndragonne?' The man said, incredulously. 'That's ridiculous, Penndragonne's stick to people like gum to paper2!'

'My penndragonne doesn't. Look, have you seen it or not?' Amadeus ignored his question.

'It must have a brain defect or something,' he wittered, scratching behind the little Chimera's ear. 'Penndragonne's are like pigeons-'

'Listen, can you-'

'in that they have crystals in their brains-'

'-just tell me if-'

'that act like the homing devices on a pigeon, except-'

'you've seen my-'

'they tie them to their owners.'

'Penndragonne!' Harry snapped. Chudley looked up, but no one else did. He was somewhat glad of that. The man in the painting frowned.

'I think I might have seen one about the place,' he finally said. 'In a tank on the second floor?'

'Been there. He's not there now.'

'Odd... '

'So you haven't seen him.'

'Can't say I have. I haven't got many portraits I frequent on the upper floors. You might like to check there.'

'I have. All i saw where Chimeras.'

'Oh dear...'

'Oh dear what!' Harry snapped, his tone attracting Ron's attention. He peered with Harry into the painting.

'Well,' Amadeus managed. 'I rather suspect, if there are Chimeras loose with your little penndragonne that it's...' he paused. 'met it's demise.' Harry paled.

'Don't listen to him,' Ron snapped. 'Silver chased of Chimeras once, right?'

'When?' Harry said, distracted. Ron frowned, then remembered the glassy tone Harry's eyes had taken as he had moved towards the carriage chimeras.

'Never mind,' he muttered. 'Thron said he wasn't dead, didn't he!'

'Well...' Amadeus considered, standing up. 'As I said, I don't have many pictures on the upper floors. From my experience, there are people who live up there exclusively. perhaps they have picked him up.' He frowned. 'Though I can't imagine them abiding him for long.'

'The Night Creature and the Bad Man,' Harry muttered. Amadeus laughed.

'Odd names for them, but yes, I suppose they fit. Though, he's not much of a man.' Harry and Ron frowned. 'Well, have to be off. Billiards is starting up. I can't miss another bout.'

'Wait!' Harry demanded, but he slipped under the frame and was gone, leaving the crooning baby chimeras whining and pouncing miserably. Ron hoisted Chudley onto his shoulder.

'We've got to find him before we go back,' Ron said decisively, 'Or you'll mope all year.' He grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him out of the room.

'Where are we going?' Harry asked weakly. Ron rolled his eyes.

'To find your wretched runt of a penndragonne, moron,' he growled. 'Come on. Let's get the cloak and pay your lizard friend a visit.'

'But he said-'

'You're supposed to be the heroic one, Harry,' Ron hissed, grinning. 'Don't make me drag you.'

Silver's eyes flickered open. He was on the floor of a room he knew. A room he had been in before. A room he didn't like. The smell of it was strong in his now sensitive nostrils. And another smell... sort of clean... coconutty, almondy, vanilla-like. Clean, but slightly too sweet. Too nice. Too good. In this way, wrong. Slowly he rolled onto his feet and stood up. His mind was fuggy. He could remember that he'd been here before, but not why, not how. He was Silver, the penndragonne. That was all that existed in his head. And it bothered him. There had been more... where had it gone?

'I suppressed it,' a voice said. Silver looked up. He knew that voice. Now he knew how he knew that smell. He hated that smell! He feared that voice! He looked hurriedly around, looking for a cavern to hide in, and crept under the dresser, hunched like an angry cat.

'I know where you are,' said the voice, words rolling off the professional tongue. Silver spied a flash of lily-white skin as the creature looked at it's reflection in a glass. A copied image of those horrid eyes bored into him and he snarled.

'Mind your tongue,' the voice chided. 'I'll not listen to your whinings. Now that I don't have to.' The white lips parted to reveal perfect teeth. Maybe a little too sharp.

'Where was I... oh yes. Your mind. You're such an open book. Maybe because I know so much about you...'

Shut up! Crawl under a rock where you belong and die!

'You'd like that, wouldn't you, brat,' the voice snarled. ' I will never do anything to please you. You deserve only my contempt. Weak. Pathetic! A tiny little runt who's arrogance outweighs his mass. What do people see in you? Why do they care? There's nothing there that isn't in someone more worthwhile. A chimera has more good points than you. I've eaten non magic folk with more potential that you. You're a wreck-'

Shut up!

'-you're pathetic. You'll let your mind be broken so easily. I've never had easier prey. You cracked like a nut under a dragon's foot. You fell apart like sand. You tore yourself open before me and let me in. Is that what you want, little one? Is that what you long for?'

Filth! Pestilence of my house! Get out! Leave me alone!

'Strong words,' the creature drawled. 'I'm almost impressed. However, since you're only a parrot repeating what your father's said it's hardly impressive. Your father...' the creature paused, getting up and sitting in a chair where his slim form was in full view. He placed fingers to his lips.

'Your father...' he repeated. 'A pool of poisonous vanity, a pride of you that is undeserved. He is weak. He puts faith in the faithless. His desire calls and his entity follows. Such weakness is almost unbearable. However... his strength gives me a place to be... a little hole to worm into... or a hole in me for him to wriggle his worm...'

Shut up! Stop talking!

'You're mind already weakens,' the creature said matter-of-factly. 'I am burning it as we speak. It will melt under my caresses, and you, the ridiculous, pompous waste of space that you are will die in that ignoble shell as a brainless crone of that silly child.' The creature smiled. 'And he, the one you follow, the one who leads you now he has been betrayed... he will forget you-'

Stop it!

'He will stop longing for you. Why should he want you? He has me.'

You're lying! Leave me alone! They'll find me!

'Oh, don't get me wrong, I do hope someone finds you.' The creature's eyes were cool.

'I'm a generous person. Share the wealth, if that's the phrase. Laughter is the very best medicine. Even that ridiculous Voldemort could heal his deep set scars laughing at a disaster like you.' The creature grinned. 'People will love me. For me, and for what I've done to you. That's what you dislike about this most. I found that in your muddled little boy head. You hate me, don't you? You hate what I can do for your father. You hate how easily I'd leave him in the gutter, steal his power and give myself whole heartedly to the arms of another. It would be that simple. He has no power over me. You know that and you hate it. It make him weak, and the pathetic little thing he has to protect weaker. Doesn't it?'

Stop...

'I was there that day. I watched you flinch under his touch. I watched you cry like the babe you are as he invaded your mind. It really is easy, you know. I watched the blood fall from your veins. Dirty blood. Blood that doesn't deserve the power it cannot control!' The creature leapt from it's seat, it's now clawed hand swiping the cowering reptile from under the chest of drawers. It held the whimpering creature up, huffing in an odd, bitonal wheeze, eyes aflame, joints in back and arm cricking horribly and claws and elongated teeth bared threateningly.

'You should have died,' it whispered. 'Saved your wretched self the trouble.' It wheezed hard, before smirking, it's body relaxing and claws and teeth receding. It set the trembling creature on a side table, eyeing it contemptuously, grinning maliciously.

'He didn't recognise you,' he whispered. 'I really thought he would. His own wretched scrawny flesh and blood, and he didn't bat an eyelid. No congratulations, son! You did it! All that I ever asked of you is done! Your finally a success!' The creature cocked it's head. 'No paternal hugs. No love. Poor little lizard.' The creature crouched down. 'You see, I'm everything he'll ever want. I'm everything he'll ever need. And with Aquilla under our control, we're unstoppable, and nothing will be beyond his reach. You... you're just a silly little tributary to our grand river. He'll forget you.' The creature bent, placing a scalding kiss upon the penndragonne's head. 'Because he doesn't need you anymore. Goodnight, Draco.' The creature got to his feet and swept from the room, satiated, as the patterns on the penndragonne's body burned red and, mindless, it collapsed sideways, quivering and whimpering, it's brain losing all sense of self.

'Right here.'

'You sure?'

'I've been here twice, Ron.'

'Were those...?'

'Ashwinders, I think.'

'That's what I thought. Maybe we should let one loose...'

'Don't be daft.'

'I wasn't. I was being mischievous- gah!'

The Chimeras eyed them curiously, before glaring at Ron.

'No killing him,' Harry growled. The chimeras seemed to frown. 'He's coming with me.' The chimeras whined, but let them through, still shrouded by the invisibility cloak.

'I warn you,' Harry whispered. 'There's something up here that can see through,' he swallowed. 'And something else... a booby trap or something... it's not deadly, just... uncomfortable.' His face was red. Ron slowly nodded.

'Ok.' They both froze up Lucius Malfoy exited one room, crossed the corridor and entered another. The lock clicked behind him.

'Bloody hell!' Ron hissed. Harry cuffed him over the head.

'Shhh!' he scolded. He and Ron padded silently down the corridor, veering over to the left where the coiling frilled saurian lay vertical against the door.

'Lizard,' Harry hissed. 'Wake up!'

'Oh not bloody parseltongue again!' Ron grumbled.

'Shh!'

'Oh Shh yourself!'

'Wake up!' Harry persisted. He prodded the hard skin of the Lizard but it didn't respond.

'Lizard!' Harry begged. 'We need to talk!'

'Can't. Not to today. Leave this place,' the Lizard commanded.

'Soon. We need to talk first.'

'You should have come yesterday, then,' The Lizard opened the whirling eye.

'We... we forgot,' Harry mumbled.

'Tough. It's not safe here. Things are afoot.' The lizard looked up at Harry. 'Not even the young master's bed chamber will provide sanctum here today.'

'That's Malfoy's room? I thought it was... after that thing in the mirror'

'That's not important!' The lizard snarled. 'Get out of here!'

'Have you seen a penndragonne, or someone with one?'

'What?' The lizard spluttered.

'That's all I need to know,' Harry begged. 'Please!'

'If it's all the way up here, it's probably a snack by now,' the Lizard pondered.

'So you haven't seen one?' Harry breathed, glancing around. The Lizard gave in and pondered for a second. Something appeared to click in it's head.

'Hang on a minute,' it said slowly. 'Maybe-'

'Who's there?' A door was flung open and a figure stepped out. Harry clapped a hand over his mouth, and Ron did likewise. The Lizard froze. Harry and Ron began to back away. A floor board creaked.

'Who's there!' The voice asked more insistently. Harry looked at it's owner, sweating. His eyes widened a little. He knew that face! It was the ash blonde boy from the hunt, wearing a pair of beige dress trousers, a loosely tucked in shirt and carrying a hefty scarlet book. There was fear in his hazel eyes. He padded forward firmly. 'I said, who's there?' A glint of ruby around his throat. A pendant. Harry took a slow step backwards, stepping firmly on Ron's foot. Ron, whimpering through his pressed shut lips, elbowed him and Harry staggered. The floorboards creaked again. The boy, tense like a hare trying to listen for the fox, stared straight at them, but through them. He stormed firmly forward and swiped out, mere millimetres from the billowing cloak. He looked surprised by his empty hands.

'I...I know you're there!' He commanded, a slight European edge to his voice. 'If this is a prank, it's not funny!' Harry and Ron looked at each other. Slowly they took a step backwards, then another, then another. As soon as they were back past the chimeras, they could make a break for it. The blonde boy drew his wand, eyes wide, darting. Ron and Harry both swallowed hard. Not good. The wand was raised, its end shooting impromptu sparks as the young man waved it to and fro. Harry shot a look at the Chimeras. They weren't looking. In fact, they were standing stock still, staring straight ahead.

'Harry, watch-' Ron hissed, before Harry's foot once again landed hard across the bridge of his, and he suppressed a whimper.

'Show yourselves!' The boy snapped, and a sudden, rushing wind shot spiralling forth from his wand. Harry staggered off Ron's foot, Ron cursing soundlessly, before the wind collided, sending them sprawling. Their feet shot from under the billowing fabric as they collapsed to the floor.

'Accio cloak,' the boy said sharply. The cloak, in a further betrayal, fluttered off them, folding back into view at their feet. The boy looked at his wand irritably, before eyeing the sorry pair as the cloak meekly slipped off the side of Ron's flushed face. The blonde's fear and rage seemed to melt into surprise.

'...' a cool familiar voice called a mumbled name. 'What's going on?' The boy looked into Harry and Ron's imploring, desperate eyes, before sighing. He pocketed his wand.

'Nothing, sir,' he drawled in his soft accent. 'The chimeras were snapping, is all.' Ron and Harry mouthed desperate thanks. The boy rolled his eyes in an aloof manner, before stooping to collect up the cloak, laying it over one arm and over his hands to Harry and Ron. They got to their feet, brushing themselves down bashfully, Harry taking back the cloack and petting it protectively and bashfully.

'Sorry about that,' Harry whispered. The boy managed a small smile.

'It's alright,' he replied in effortless softness, hazel warm eyes glinting. 'It's Halloween. You're permitted your mischief.' He rubbed the back of his head, allowing his flowing grey-blonde hair to fall into a little more disarray. It suited him. 'Although, you shouldn't be up here. This is a private place for the Malfoy family. Hence the guards...' the boy gestured to the oblivious chimeras. He smiled softly.

'Sorry,' Harry hissed. 'We were hunting for my penndragonne. We didn't...'

'Penndragonne?' the boy said airily. 'You have a penndragonne?' Chudley's head was flopping out of the shoulder bag Ron was carrying, snoring silently.

'Not that one,' Harry said. 'My one's... lost.'

'Oh... I am sorry.' The boy blinked. There was an element of concern in his face, but it was thoroughly over shadowed by complacent airiness. 'You must be upset.'

'Yeah...' Harry managed. He could see Ron's hackles rising. 'You could say that. Anyway... have you seen it?'

'Your penndragonne?'

'What else?' Ron snapped. The boy raised an eyebrow.

'Not the one in this boy's bag?' he said gently.

'No,' Harry remained patient, but the uncaring nature of the figure, who had the semblance of a Malfoy, irritated him. Ron, as always, was not keen on hiding how he felt. The boy sighed, drumming fingers on his lips.

'What would penndragonne...' he paused. 'appear like?' Ron visibly twitched. However, the blanched nature of cheeks noted how aware he was of Lucius Malfoy pacing in the next room, his footsteps echoing off the wood, and raising his voice wouldn't really help.

'Like that one,' Harry patiently pointed at Chudely. 'Except thinner and smaller.'

'It would be difficult for it fatter, bigger AND lost,' the boy mused.

'Shut up,' Ron growled. The boy eyed him emptily, before looking back at Harry.

'I cannot say I have seen any penndragonnes in this vicinity,' he said softly. 'However, that doesn't mean they're not there. Of course, I will look into for you.'

'Really?' Harry said suspiciously. The boy raised an eyebrow.

'Of course,' he said. 'That lump your unfortunately ginger friend is carrying is the first penndragonne I have seen. It would be a shame for me to miss the opportunity to see a normal sized one.'

'Watch it-' Ron began.

'Well, we'll be going then!' Harry cut in as he saw the sides of the boy's mouth twitch in a manner horrifyingly reminiscent to Malfoy. 'Thanks for not dobbing us in.' The boy batted a hand.

'Not at all,' he said, before smirking. 'Of course, I will have to play a trick on you now.'

'What?' Harry managed, half way through shoving an irate Ron out of the corridor. The boy cocked his head.

'A trick. You and your friend and invisibility cloak. I will be getting you back for that.'

'Looking forward to it,' Harry rushed. 'Goodbye now!' He and Ron bolted out of the corridor. The hazel eyes watched the go, before a slow smile crept across the porcelain facial features.

'And what a trick it will be...'

The weekend at Malfoy manor came to a head with the magnificent Halloween Ball, where the two large ballrooms and the most grand dining room were opened up, bedecked with decorations, and enchanted to provide extra spooky details. Everyone wore their best dress robes, often decorated with Halloween touches, as well as a mask. It was a masquerade ball, after all. In the dining room, tables of varying sizes were arranged, surrounded by floating chairs with no legs that hovered unnervingly. Every few minutes a ghostly stage would leap out of one of the walls and scamper through, pursued by three hounds and two headless riders, above the heads of the guests. An enormous spread of varied cuisine had been prepared, and when sitting at your table you only had to ask and it would be delivered, by ghostly apparitions, from nowhere. In the ballrooms spectral courtiers drifted through the rooms, shockingly handsome and alluring, ignoring all signs of life, and quite often each other. Live birds had been released, along with bats, which fluttered luxuriantly throughout the proceedings. It was overall a very showy affair. Harry, however, was thoroughly bored. Ron had said he was just popping to the loo, but after about half an hour Harry had spotted him traipsing after two obviously part veela girls, who were chatting amiably with each other as they wove through the room. Standing on the high, richly carpeted balcony, he was watching with what had been vague amusement, as Ron and the other followers (their numbers were steadily growing) followed meekly, tried to make a move, failed and fell back into line obediently.

'Pathetic, isn't it?' said a voice at his side. Harry looked up to espy a figure in soft grey-black, ornamented with blue, carrying a peacock mask that trailed long, obnoxious feathers. He lowered the mask a little, considering the scene with his rich, hazel eyes. 'It's the same every year. Rose and Soulange traipse around the dance floor, and hopeful, brainless youth follows like a yipping spaniel.' The boy eyed Harry, smiling. 'Veela are obnoxious creatures, aren't they?'

'I guess,' Harry said vaguely. 'I'm... sorry about earlier.' The boy seemed more relaxed.

'Not at all,' he defied blandly. 'I just... wasn't expecting anyone. Strange things walk some corridors in this place.'

'You don't say,' Harry mumbled. The boy leant on the marble, carved barrier.

'A good turn out,' he drawled dismissively. 'I'm surprised. Lucius predicted it would be poor, after recent events.' He sighed. 'My father didn't want me to attend, but I have known Draco since he was a boy... vaguely. It would have been rude not to attend. Besides,' he smiled. 'It's a routine for me.' He considered Harry. 'However, you are a new face.'

'My friend's parent's were invited,' he said blandly. The boy nodded, musing.

'I see,' he said. 'They must be rich, to afford a penndragonne for their boy.'

'It's a school project,' Harry said. The boy's face seemed to twitch.

'So...' he managed. 'The one lost... was like homework?' Harry shook his head.

'A present,' he said. The boy seemed to relax a little.

'I see,' he said. There was a silence between the boys as they observed the boys chasing Rose and Soulange. The boy suddenly perked up.

'I had nearly forgotten,' he said softly. He reached inside his dress robes and drew out a bundle wrapped in a silken handkerchief.

'Forgotten what?' Harry asked. The boy placed the parcel on the narrow banister. He pulled a pin out of the top, and the silk fell aside in a swathe of scarlet, revealing a coil of grey skin.

'S...Silver?' Harry managed, hands itching.

'Coiled up under my chaise,' the boy said softly. 'Sleeping soundly. You're lucky,' Harry was picking him up, 'with all the security animals about, I'm surprised he wasn't snapped up.' As Harry's fingers coiled around the tiny body and drew it to him, the collar around it's neck flashed yellow before displaying the words 'CONTACT RE-INGAGED...IN YOUR HANDS' Harry could hardly believe it. A weekend of sneaking, chasing up answers, being attacked by booby traps in Malfoy's bedroom, releasing Chimera, being spied by spectres, and here, in his hands, was the tiny, drooping body, pale and wan, but alive, warm and his.

'I...' Harry began. 'I don't know how to thank you!' The boy batted his hand.

'As I said,' he grinned. 'I'll get you back later.' Harry smiled weakly.

'Sure,' he said. 'You have my full permission.' The boy raised an eyebrow, observing again.

'I would have done it anyway,' he said firmly. Harry laughed, feeling Silver reflexively knot his claws into the fabric of his clothes and grumbled against him in his sleep.

'Well,' he said softly. 'I'll look forward to it.' He paused, pondering that he didn't even know this foreign boy's name. 'Erm...'

'Ryan Abarov,' the boy said sharply. 'Of course, your press is far reaching. I know you.'

'I see,' Harry said almost bashfully. 'Well, thanks, Ryan.' The boy nodded, before his eyes connected with the chain around Harry's neck.

'I see,' he said softly. 'So you do have a pendant... I did wonder how you got past the chimeras.' Harry pulled it out politely, feeling through his fingers the relaxing thrum of Silver's heartbeat, lost in a world of strange comfort. He did wake up when the chain bit into his neck.

'Hey!'

'I'm sorry,' the boy said quickly, but without feeling. 'It's only... That's Evelyn Malfoy-Rottering's pendant.'

'Yeah,' Harry said bashfully. 'I've been meaning to get it back to him.' Hazel eyes observed him coldly, before the boy turned away.

'Don't bother,' he said cruelly, stepping away. 'Unless you want it buried with him...' He turned, eyes glinting strangely. 'What's left of him.' Harry felt a weight thud through his body, knocking out his breath.

'What?' He managed airlessly. The boy, Ryan, considered Harry like the dog considers it's quarry, the hare.

'A spinal cord and some chunks of bloodstained gristle,' he said as if he were reciting a shopping list. 'His. It was found out in the woods near the gates early this morning. I believe they're shipping it to his parent's promptly.' Harry felt violently sick. When he managed to look up again, the boy was gone, and the pendant hung like an albatross around his neck.

'Sit still'

Quack. Silver wriggled in Harry's grip, sleepy, disorientated, and highly aggrieved at the scrubbing Harry was giving him.

'I said, sit still!' Harry urged. It was eleven. Ron and He were catching a carriage home at eleven thirty. He was nearly packed, the sounds of the ball below distracting him even now, but Silver, even after waking, feeding mindlessly and wandering around looked dusty and pale, and true enough the grime was sloughing off him into the sink in Harry's petite bathroom. He was back, he was still his irritable self, but there was something... changed about him. He seemed restless, confused and dazed, with no real sense of territory or identity. And even without the champagne effect of the dust, he seemed drab, worn, pale and greyed. Harry, finally consenting to scoop up the fragile creature in a soft flannel and carry him out, pondered this carefully. More than anything, he blamed it on sleepiness, as Silver's eyes never seemed to really open, merely surveying their surroundings through dipped lids and dilated pupils. He placed Silver on the bed, not bothering to confine him as he sat demurely, staring at nothing in particular. Next to him lay Harry's dress robes and a mask he had been given, coated lavishly with eagle feathers. He had deigned to keep it- give it to Hermione probably. It looked vaguely antique, and she appreciated intricate things like that. Beside them was a parchment tube. Malfoy's essay. Harry had been to Malfoy's room, but it looked unused... besides, Draco wasn't here as far as he could tell. Harry shuddered. There was no way he was going back up there, though, not even if Draco had been there. Not after the last time.

'What the hell was that?...' he pondered out loud. Silver quacked and fell over sideways on the flannel, drowsy. Harry went to touch him and he snapped, his teeth grazing Harry's knuckles. Blood pricked beneath the thinner skin, but was not shed. The slight itchy throb gave Harry a small reassurance.

'At least you haven't changed,' he said out loud. Silver blinked up at him blearily, before averting his head in disgust. Harry managed a small smile, before his eyes were inextricably drawn to the scarlet pendant that lay, discarded, beside the tube. Harry felt his throat constrict. This morning... the panic, the crying maid, Lucius's anxiety and anger, and of course Martyn's behaviour... and all the questions... it made sense now. Harry sat down on his bed, Silver rolling due to gravity into the side of his jeans clad leg, trying feverently to bite him hatefully. It really hadn't clicked. He was sure the chimera would have said something if they had eaten him... Harry felt bile rise in his throat. Yesterday he had been speaking to Ferris and Thron, when it could have been them who were responsible the remains lying out in the grounds- Harry covered his mouth and ran into the en suite, hacking and coughing, spitting and cursing. Silver watched him, aloof, from the bed, crossing his forepaws. There was a depreciative glint in his grey mist eyes. In a few moments, Harry reappeared, wiping his mouth on a towel. He caught the penndragonne's gaze.

'Don't give me that,' he snapped. Silver snarled, his teeth bared, before puffing smoke and averting his head. This human really got on his last nerve. Harry coughed into the towel, looking a little startled, before calming. Angrily, he started packing, thrusting the tube and, with only a slight pause, the pendant, into his bag. Silver observed him, contemplatively, before sniffing arrogantly when Harry caught him looking. Harry rolled his eyes. He fastened his bag before sitting on the bed, wrapping Silver in his flannel and placing him on his lap. Silver looked mortified, especially when he gauged his height from the floor.

'Oh don't be such a priss,' Harry growled playfully, trying to cheer himself up. 'You've got wings. A little fall shouldn't bother you.' Silver gave him a potently withering glare before ambling around on Harry's knees, sinking his claws him where he thought he could get good access to Harry's skin and cause the most pain. Harry rolled his eyes and coiled the tail around his finger. Hissing like an aggrieved cat, Silver turned, swiped and missed, falling over and digging his claws and teeth into the thick denim, kicking and clawing and growling. Harry couldn't help but laugh. Despite the throb of guilt in his mind, the horrible images his mind concocted of Evelyn's remains, Silver, this new bobbing light, brought him through, like a kindly will o' the wisp. Grey eyes locked with Harry's, teeth tense around denim, eyes blank and yet full, and Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion.

'I'm glad I found you,' he said. Silver stared at him, jaws still locked. The silence, the softness of the atmosphere was shattered when Ron burst in.

'Write to me, Rose! You too Soulange!' he cooed, waving, before tearing himself away. He looked daze. 'God, they were fine...'

'Glad to see you had a good time,' Harry said. Silver hissed hatefully. Chudley extracted himself from Ron's bag, chirruping.

'You found him!' Ron said cheerily, almost going to stroke the creature, before thinking better of it. 'Where was he?'

'Ryan brought him back,' Harry said. 'He found him upstairs.'

'I told you he was up there!' Ron said triumphantly. He clapped Harry on the back. 'Come on. Mum and Dad are waiting in the lobby.' Ron cringed. 'Eurgh... Double Potions in the morning.'

'Joy of joys...' Harry groaned, extracting Silver from his jeans and placing the creature on it's shoulder. It swayed, lashing it's tail around Harry's neck for support. It tickled. Harry snatched up his bags. Ron frowned.

'You look down,' he said. 'What happened, mate?' Harry sighed, swinging his bag onto his free shoulder.

'Come on,' he said, as the corridors of Malfoy manor sped by him with unnerving rapidity. 'I'll tell you about it in the carriage...' Ron frowned as they began their descent from their floor for the last time.

'From the look on your face,' he muttered. 'Seems like I'd rather not.'

With that, they made their exit, entering their tri-chimera carriage at the door, and watching as Malfoy Manor receded into blackness. Harry watched it go, almost longingly. He hadn't got to say goodbye to the lizard, or to the somewhat loveable brother of Thron and his friend up at the top corridor. He frowned as he remembered the traps, the ghostly figure, and, shockingly, the 'Night creature', just as a great swirling flap of black crossed the gleaming moon. Shuddering, Harry drew the curtain. Silver popped his head out under it, staring at the mansion. There was something... something he knew of this place... it irritated him because he couldn't detect what that something was. However, the heavy night hung on him like lead, and the odd flap of sinister leather nearby forced him to withdraw, and as Harry imparted the fate of Evelyn Malfoy-Rottering to Ron, he drifted into an uneasy, empty sleep, sinister patterns still itching invisibly against his skin.

A/N

1 Poka is Russian for 'Bye' in an informal, quick way. No, I do not speak Russian. It's pronounced somewhere between Poka and Paka.

2 That's not chewing gum I'm talking about. Amadeus is from the 1600's you know.

AND ISN'T THE CREATURE HORRIBLE! You'll find out his name in the next chapter, and what he is