On the Fly
Lying flat on his back, Harry abruptly awoke to the agitated hum of his own magic buzzing furiously in his ears. The rapid beating of his heart and feeling of his magic expanding, partially on his subconscious command, forced him to assess his predicament.
He felt drowsy and immediately uncomfortable.
Several terrible situations flew through his mind, and he was on his guard before he even opened his eyes to take in his surroundings.
What the fuck happened?
As he opened his eyes, white lights instantly blinded him.
"The magical outburst… overload… to them..." The ping of a soft voice reached him as he adjusted to waking up.
"Absolutely destroyed… utterly… nothing heard… confounded." A deep male voice followed.
"Magical signatures… two disappeared… seen and registered." Another male added.
Harry strained to hear their conversation. Everything was a chirr that composed of whispering, as Harry assumed the individuals were doing, and odd small sounds that he could not place.
Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped in his head, Harry heard nothing. He felt as if something should be registering in his ears, but with was nothing. His magic shuddered as if it were trying to fix his hearing, and Harry involuntarily mimicked the motion physically.
"Did you see that? Merlin's stave, I think he just moved." Another voice, this one also belonging to a man, said. "You said he wouldn't wake for at least a few days due to the physical and magical exhaustion."
Harry immediately closed his eyes and steadied his breath. If there was one thing he was good at, it was trying to fool people. He had to do it to guards and inmates at Sirkins. As if a mild wind breezed through him, his mind cleared, his magic calmed, and his breathing slowed.
He could feel the pulse of foreign magic around him. It reminded him of something that he saw in a movie once, a disturbance in the force. His magic and mind both went in panic mode.
It was obvious to him that wizards surrounded him.
He went cold.
Malfoy? He called out mentally. Memories of Draco's famished and thirsty frame filled his mind. He felt a disgusting urge to get up, find, and assist the boy, but managed to push those down and merely called out to the blond mentally.
He repeated that several times with no avail.
He knew that Draco should be able to respond, but he was sure that there was nothing else that he could do.
He could feel Draco's magic, a perk of the magic they performed together he assumed, but his magic could not pick up Marner or Marcius.
Harry felt ridiculous for a moment, as if he were a radar or location device.
Someone approached the side of his bed. Harry willed his magic to make him appear to be asleep. He felt himself instantly relax as magic pulsed slowly through him, steadying his blood and breathing, as well as removing his ability to move.
There was a whoosh as the person above him waved something, most likely their wand, over his head. Harry desperately wanted to rip his eyes open and catch the person in the act, but he decided it would be in his best interest to summon his magic and allow it to heal him. He needed to be fit and prepared to attack if necessary.
There was a moment of silence around him where the foreign magic, like a thin sheet of silky fabric, settled slowly on his body after the person said some weird words. Simultaneously, he felt his multitasking magic instinctively fire up around his body to protect it, pulse inside his body to heal him, and prepare to strike if anything happened.
Harry was nervous for the first time in a long time. Though he had managed successfully, and with laughable ease, to overpower Malfoy, he decided not to try his luck with four adult wizards. He was not sure if he was at that level yet.
"Well, is he asleep?" The gruff, almost familiar male voice asked.
The woman standing above him responded, "My wand-readings say that he is indeed asleep… At least his body is, but his internal magical activity is off the roof."
A calming, grandfather-like voice came suddenly from the other side of where Harry lay. "That, I believe, is a natural side-effect to removing a Magical Band. His magic is unbound and testing its limits. It is mostly likely searching for Mr. Malfoy."
"Albus, wouldn't it be wise to put another band on him then? It would be a small precaution to ensure his safety and that of those around him." The woman next to Harry said. "Depending on the nature and strength of their bond, his magic could be aggressive with anyone in its way to Mr. Malfoy."
Harry heard her and Albus, who Harry instantly deemed was Albus Dumbledore, move away from his bed. He ended his sleep-act and attempted to assess the condition of his body.
He could wiggle his fingertips and toes.
"Harry has accomplished the unimaginable by destroying not just one band, but harnessing his magic while wearing another. I do not believe it would be effective, or necessary."
"The boy is a danger, Albus," The gruff man said. "He's maimed, killed - he's a criminal. You never give a criminal the chance to get free."
"Alastor, I could not disagree more. You do not know the details of his past transgressions."
The man, Alastor, huffed.
"What about young Malfoy? Their bond surely must have increased his magical abilities," another woman said. "His magic would most likely be in a similar state."
"That is an assumption only time can verify."
Harry only half listened to the conversation that followed. There was talk of a Wizagemot and a Ministry/Minister of Magic that Harry could not decipher, but nevertheless stored for later reflection, hopefully with Marcius or Malfoy. He learned that he and Malfoy were located in a secure section of a Wizarding hospital, St. Mungos. He stopped listening altogether when the conversation turned to the topic of some organization called the Order.
His body was in fair condition. He felt no pain anywhere, though there was a slight numbness in his stomach. He assumed that those in charge had done something to take care of his hunger and thirst.
Harry was jolted back into the conversation by the mention of illegal activity.
"Albus, that could be misconstrued as kidnapping!" His magic registered two people hovering near Malfoy's bed. Dumbledore and the other woman stood in between the two beds.
"Minerva, it's necessary to keep Harry and Mr. Malfoy together because of their bond and also to have them under the surveillance of the Order, now that his historic return is plastered on the front page of most newspapers. The story of his childhood will be national controversy as well within a week."
"Albus, Hogwarts reopened two days ago," the woman said, "do you honestly believe that Lucius Malfoy will accept that his son disappeared without a trace, only to return to the Wizarding World, to Hogwarts, weeks after its reopening without contacting him? Sorry, but I do not take him for green!"
Dumbledore sighed. "We have no other choice. You know that by international law both boys must attend the magical institution designated by their guardians until they have taken their OWLs. Technically they should be in the infirmary at Hogwarts right now, but the situation necessitated the expertise of the Healers here."
Harry followed along to the best of his ability, but he was completely at lost. Owls? My guardian? Isn't Marner my guardian? I'm sure he did not agree to send me anywhere. Where is he? I have to find him too, before they do.
"Malfoy will bring the full force of the Ministry, the Wizagemot, and the Board of Governors upon you. You already are on thin ice as it is, what with that toad Umbridge." The man with the rough voice growled.
Someone coughed politely.
"They will be moved to headquarters as soon as they awaken," Dumbledore said with such firmness that Harry nearly believed in the indisputability of the event.
Harry grew impatient after he called for Malfoy again. A possible reason for Malfoy's lack of response came to him suddenly. He must be sleeping, the bastard! With that in mind, he angrily sent out his magic to wake the blond up.
A subtle sensation rolled through him this time as his magic returned back to him, almost like a sonar response.
He frowned. He sent his magic out again and felt something blocking his path to the blond. His magic reacted before he could think twice, and tore to shreds whatever was obstructing his passage to Draco.
Potter!? Harry heard Malfoy's voice ring with uncertainty in his mind.
It's about fucking time you wake up! I've been calling to you for half an hour.
I wasn't sleeping, you bloody dunce! I couldn't respond, Draco snapped. They put a spell on us to damper the bond.
Before he could respond, the people in the room hurriedly went away from Harry towards, what he assumed was, Malfoy's bed.
Harry took the opportunity to open his eyes and look around. The blinding, burning feeling in his eyes left almost as quickly as it came. His magic assisted his vision and the stiffness of his limbs. He slowly sat up.
There was no one around him, and a sheet separated his side of the room from Malfoy's.
Malfoy, they are headed your way. Pretend like you are asleep! They won't be able to tell.
Potter! They have spells to figure such things out, if you haven't noticed.
Harry wanted to strangle the idiot.
"Mr. Malfoy, there is no need to try to fool us into thinking that you are resting. We know that you are indeed awake."
Bloody Fuck, they both growled mentally.
Harry silently slid out of his hospital bed. He was in hospital clothes and quickly spotted his proper clothes on a bedside table. He used his magic to switch them with his hospital clothes instantly. He noted briefly that his clothes had been cleaned before he summoned his magic to him. The candles around him blew out, and the light that seemed to come out of the walls flickered.
"Unhand me, you ape! My father will hear about this, Dumbledore!" Draco yelled. His voice was brittle from lack of use.
"This is for your own -."
"Silencio, Immobulus."
…
Harry paused. He did not know what they did to Malfoy, but he was no longer screaming in his girly, high-pitched voice, and that was a cause for celebration and worry.
"Alastor, was that necessary?" Dumbledore asked.
Malfoy, are you okay? Is there any way to just leave this room? Malfoy!
I'm fine, you bloody idiot. And no, we can't leave, they have wards everywhere.
Wards, what are wards?
Malfoy tried to explain, but Harry was impatient and frustrated. He needed the information that very instant. His magic responded in a rush.
Information from books and conversations pertaining to wards crashed through his mind as his magic gathered the information Malfoy had pertaining to wards. The tidal wave of info rammed his mind like a bull- a group of bulls. Harry was stunned that he was able to see information that Malfoy without having to ask for it.
Harry shook off his surprise and formed a quick plan in his head as he noticed the window at the end of the long room.
Potter, hurry! They are making a Portkey!
Harry had no clue what a Portkey was, and it did not sound good to him at all, but he had no interest in figuring out what it was. With his head pounding slightly from the last rush of information, he decided against pulling information from the blond's mind again.
He used his magic to toss everything out of his path. Beds, equipment, bottles flew with the utmost speed. There were only two beds separating him from Draco.
He came up with a plan as he went. Step one; he needed to cause a brief distraction.
Four people, in various ages had their wands pointed at him as he marched purposely through his own path of destruction towards them. His magic flared at the item the oldest person, Dumbledore held in his hand... a sock? Harry's magic could sense that it was not just a normal sock.
There was a miniature explosion from which Dumbledore was barely able to escape.
"Harry!" Dumbledore exclaimed while clutching and healing his bleeding hand.
"Albus!" The older woman cried rushing over to him, her wand still trained on Harry.
"Mr. Potter, please get back in bed!" A middle-aged brunette in an old-fashioned nursing outfit said nervously, coming towards him as if to subdue him.
Harry advanced without stopping, though wounding Dumbledore struck him as oddly pleasing.
He threw magic at Draco, reversing whatever done to him by the others.
Get my wand, Potter!
Harry called Malfoy's wand to him. In a blink of an eye, it ripped away from a facially deformed man and flew into Harry's hands.
Harry's magic and body dodged the beams of colors that were now being sent at him.
He swiped his hand at his opponents and sent literally every item in the room at them, including a screaming Malfoy.
This better work, he thought as he looked the windows.
He called the thrown Malfoy to him as he ran towards the window jumping over and dodging spells.
He removed the glass pane of the window, looked down briefly at the ant-sized cars on the street. He turned back as a multitude of spells passed him and flew through the window. He felt the cold autumn air on his back as he stepped backwards towards the window. He never noticed the window frame enlarging itself from floor to ceiling to let him through.
Time seemed to slow down. Malfoy rammed into him, knocking them both slightly backwards through the window frame. Harry wrapped an arm around the blond and balanced them both on the window ledge. The look of panic that flashed across the faces of the wizards was pleasing.
What? Did they expect me to go easily?
He shoved Malfoy's wand into the boy's hands and called his magic forth immediately to handle the final spells sent at him. A bright gold shimmer appeared in front of him. The four spells hit the glowing shell with such force that Harry and Malfoy toppled backwards out of the window as Harry's magic returned the window to its original state with glass and all.
Falling from such a height had to be the most frighteningly exhilarating thing Harry had ever done. He had never felt so free, so unrestrained, and yet so much in danger.
As the ground rapidly neared, his magic swelled around both him and the screaming blond. Take us somewhere safe. For the first time, his magic was confused. Harry felt it waver before it struck Malfoy. Harry saw a picture of a blonde woman enter his mind as his magic struck surrounded them.
Suddenly, the warm, hard ground was beneath him. He realized moments later that he was not on the sidewalk but a dark marble floor. There had been no contact with the ground that they had just been heading toward a deadly speed.
He was still in one piece and obviously alive. He had one moment of peace before he fell in pain.
He jumped up quickly into a sitting position. His suddenly whole body felt as if it were on fire. He groaned. His magic flared up dangerously, furiously attacking whatever was hurting him.
The candle flames above him on the walls were flickering. He could see Malfoy shouting in the background. He saw the blond get up with difficulty, take a few steps forward, and then fall forward before he closed his eyes in pain.
His magic did not manage to stop whatever was hurting him. It numbed him all over, but Harry could tell that it was tiring and quickly.
He heard Malfoy shout once again as he slowly opened his eyes.
An eloquent voice, like the falling of pearls, called back to Malfoy. "Draco, is that you, my dear?"
Harry watched, astonished, as the most beautiful woman he had ever seen came gliding- yet running- down the grandiose hallway. She took his breath away. Moving so quickly caused her robes to fly behind her and exposed the breathtaking outfit beneath. She wore the tightest form fitting, yet appropriate, white bodice with dress that showed every single curve of her perfect figure. Harry watched the bounce of her chest, knowing that his pants were growing tighter even if he could not feel them or his erection.
She stopped a few feet away from them, one eyebrow elegantly raised at Harry. He automatically raised one back; he could feel a challenge anywhere.
"Draco?" She asked looking at his son, but never letting her eyes leave Harry.
"The wards, mother. Hurts!" Draco pleaded without looking at back at Harry. The agony in his voice made Harry look at him
Beauty, as Harry adequately named her, immediately did something with her wand- a wand Harry had not noticed until then. His raunchy, pain-filled mind wandered briefly again, taking in her tasteful outfit.
She had on white heels. Harry was sure that diamonds laced her dress and ears, pearls graced her cleavage and hand, while her shoes seemed to be a mixture of both.
Damn. He knew he could never hope to afford any part of her. He shook himself slightly as the thought of her being a pricey call girl entered his mind. Malfoy's mother, damn.
The woman waved her wand, and Harry felt his magic relax. Harry released a relieved sigh as it retreated, something it never did. Normally it lingered to make sure everything remained in good condition. It must be tired. He felt physically what his magic felt.
Draco slumped forward. His mother quickly but gracefully bent down to help him. Harry bit his lip as he felt his penis twitch.
"Dobby!" She yelled suddenly. Harry jumped as the oddest, goggle-eyed creature appeared out of thin air with a loud CRACK. He felt his magic stir languidly, but it remained in its resting state.
The creature looked at Harry, his eyes flickering up to Harry's scar, before it gave an audible gasp. Harry shook his head to clear it. Yoda? Does he actually exist?
"Dobby, take Draco to the medical wing and care for him while I assist our guest." Harry did not like the manner in which she spat the word. It was as if something foul were on her tongue.
The creature nodded vigorously. Harry felt a slight dizziness come upon him as Dobby disappeared with the blond.
Harry quickly detached himself from the floor and steadied himself, all of which was done under the watchful gaze of Draco's mother.
She held a calm and graceful expression on her face. She reminded Harry of the dolls he had seen as a kid on the telly advertisements.
There was a moment where they looked at each other in silence. Harry could hear some rustling around them, but he did not dare to break the important staring contest that they were having.
With a blink and tilt of her head, the woman broke eye contact and murmured something slightly under her breath, which to Harry sounded like "impossible".
Harry noticed then that her wand was not pointed at him.
Before he could stop himself a question flew out of his mouth. "Why don't you have your wand thing pointed at me? As Dumbledore and the others did..."
Her eyebrow arched slightly at the mention of 'Dumbledore', but besides that there were no signs that his question had even registered in his mind.
"This manor has more protections than the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry combined." She smirked. "I feel as comfortable as a basilisk in a unicorn clearing."
Harry blinked. He wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean but also realized quickly that he didn't care. She is truly gorgeous with her confidence.
"Lord Potter, may I show you to your guest rooms?" She said in a sickeningly sweet voice that sent a chill up Harry's spine and distracted him immediately from the pull of her charm.
"Lord Potter?" He asked, distancing himself from her slightly as she passed him with a swish of her robes.
She paused and turned around quickly, abandoning all suaveness. "Pardon me? Lord Potter, you mean to tell me that you do not know of you-" Her eyes flashed slightly, prompting Harry to take a step back. "So it is true? The Daily Prophet…"
Harry leaned slightly on his back leg, putting more striking distance between him and the crazy woman. I should have known that she was too pretty to be sane.
She paused, seeming to recognize how awkward the situation appeared. She shook her head slightly.
"I suppose no one has ever told you of your family, your seats of power, or your status within our world in the muggle prison." She said this as she were talking about the weather, and beckoned to him to follow her.
She led him down a smartly lit and magnificent grand staircase. It was dripping with affluence. Harry felt absurdly out of place.
"Your family, Lord Potter, is of Ancient and Noble blood, as is ours." The clicking of her heels against the marble staircase annoyed him now to no end.
"I was told that there would be people desperate to have me under their influence for political reasons." He stated.
She tilted her head back slightly and the easiest bell of laughter slid from her throat. "I'm sure they included the name of our family on that list."
Harry didn't answer, which was an answer in itself.
She turned to him her bosom lifted slightly, on purpose. "Just between you and me, Lord Potter, I wouldn't trust anyone in the Wizarding World. Those who you trust are most likely planning your downfall; your blood kin are most likely trying to steal from you, kill you, or both; and those you think you love are merely using you." She was growling by the end of her little monologue.
Damn, she must be having some deep marital issues.
Harry grinned at her. "I don't even trust myself."
"Good man." She said patting him lightly on the arm. The twitch in his pants returned.
She turned and led him down a hallway with oak flooring that was not as decorated as the previous ones but held a regality to it that did not necessitate glitz and glamor of polish white marble.
Harry noticed for the first time the gold-framed paintings with moving figures and animals on the wall. He stopped to look at a familiar-looking one. It can't be!
Draco's mother noticed the lack of his following footsteps. She observed briefly the painting that had captured his attention so completely.
"Yes, that would be your great-great-great grandfather Patrick Potter. The Potter men generally look very much alike; I believe there is some sort of blood enchantment on the lineage."
"Why is he hanging up in your house?" Harry murmured.
To his surprise, it was the painting, not Draco's mother, who responded. "I was considered too dark for the likes of the Family Counsel to hang in the Potter Manor, merely for my marrying of a young woman of the Malfoy line."
Harry absorbed that information, swallowed his shock, and nodded to the man in the painting who looked like his mirror-image with a few differences in their bone structures and eye-colors.
"Most of the pureblooded families in Britain share some blood kinship. Not that many of the 'light' families will admit to this, especially with regards to us 'dark' families."
Sounds like some weird form of racism.
"Come, Lord Potter, you may speak with your relations after I've shown you your chambers and before we dine together."
She led Harry to a hardwood door that had to be twice as large as he was tall. On an impulse, he reached out and touched the door.
He pulled back as the door suddenly moved, and his mouth hit the polished floor as he took in his chambers.
"You are more than welcome, just as our common ancestor, to reside in the manor for as long as the Lord of the manor offers his hospitality." Her voice strained ever so slightly. "Due to pressing engagements, my lord cannot personally welcome you, but I do, as his lady, on his behalf."
It all sounded like the dialogue of a really proper, and dry, Victorian novel. It must be some weird welcoming ceremony in their Wizarding culture.
"Do you, Lord Potter, accept these chambers?" Harry tore his eyes from the magnificent crystal chandelier that did not hang from a chain but floated several feet above the expensive and exquisite looking furniture.
"Yes, I do… Lady Malfoy." He blinked as a flash of light surrounded them and disappeared just as quickly as it came.
He raised an eyebrow.
"It is tradition amongst the Ancient and Noble Houses to insure the safety and enjoyment of guests. There was once a time when each manor was its own fortress and all of the Houses were at war. Should a member of one House visit another, the host offered hospitality and also demanded a treaty to insure that the guest did not harm their family. The guest was also granted the same safety from any malicious intent the family might have." She wrinkled her nose.
Harry made a small noise of understanding.
"Should I or Draco visit the Potter Manor, it is tradition that you do so as well." She stated as if warning a child not to run with scissors.
Wait, what?
Harry was filled suddenly with questions. He managed to gain control over his mouth before anything unfiltered slipped out. He considered his next words wisely; they had to cover many of the previous questions that flew through his mind.
"Potter Manor? Forgive me, but I was not even aware this magical community existed a few weeks ago, let alone the fact that I belong to it. Where exactly is this manor?" He faced her completely.
His demeanor spoke volumes on calmness and composure. He used that pose and tone at Sirkins, when dealing with people who wanted to get a rise out of him, especially the guards.
"Gringotts, our Wizarding bank, should be able to assist you with claiming rights and privileges bestowed on you from the Last testaments of your parents."
Donning on his most pretentious voice, a la the tone that he remembered Malfoy using all of the time with him, he asked, "Would you be willing, Lady Malfoy, to accompany me? It would be a great assistance to me."
She appeared lightly surprised, for the time exhibiting a genuine emotion in front of Harry. "I'm sure I can fit that into my schedule for tomorrow-."
"Are they closed today?" He asked slowly, not knowing what day of the week it was or what types of business hours offices in the Wizarding world had.
"No, but dinner shall be served so-." She attempted to regain her composure, but Harry was not having any of that.
He had a very simple plan running through his mind. It began with throwing her off balance, followed by sleeping with her, and finally uses her fornication as blackmail should she or her family try to do to him.
"How soon?" He drawled, taking a slightly exaggerated step in her direction ended mere inches from touching her.
Her breath hitched slightly. He looked down at her legs, working his eyes slowly up her body.
"In an hour's time." She murmured.
Harry closed the door soundlessly with his magic before stepping away from the woman, her tensed body instantly relaxed since he no longer invaded her space.
He took a seat on a velvety Victorian chair and beckoned her to the seat next to his. Eluding confidence in every motion and every syllable, he spoke as she walked to him with uncertain tainting her attempt at composure.
"My knowledge of the Wizarding world is limited. Maybe you could fill in some of the gaps in the next hour?" Harry saw a flash of power, lust, and acceptance of his challenge in her eyes.
She sat slowly, leaning forward slightly and showing off her bosom. Her robe disappeared suddenly, reappearing on a hook near the door. She slowly crossed one leg over the other, showing off her flawless, ivory skin.
Harry wasn't sure how long he ogled her, but he regained his senses as she confidently and softly laid one hand on his thigh, a gleam seductive in her eye.
"Dinner might have to wait another hour; there is a lot to cover." Harry's penis twitched erect.
She thinks she has me wrapped up in her power! She squeezed his thigh slightly forcing him to shift. Her hand managed to reach his inner thigh; she squeezed again forcing Harry to bite back a moan.
"The oldest of the Ancient and Noble houses trace their lineages back more than a millennium. The Potters were one of the first, descending directly from the bloodline of King Arthur in the 6th century. Rumor states that the Potters call his unplottable and legendary Tintagel Castle home…" She said as she removed her hand and straightened out her dress as if nothing had happened. "No Malfoy has ever crossed its threshold to confirm the rumors. And those who have, find themselves unable to recall it because of the secrecy charms and enchantments."
Harry absorbed what she said while mentally taking every single item of her clothing off slowly.
Letting her have control this once won't hurt. I'll get the upper hand after she's in my bed.
.
.