Silver Claws and Cat Tails
Abby Ebon
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Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own X-Men.
Note; be wary, RemyxHarryxLogan smex (what you thought I forgot Remy?)….
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Magic-Comes-Back-Thrice
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"What the…!" Hermione delighted only a little in their startled expressions, even as she took in their appearances and differences with a tilted head. They were certainly an odd lot, one of them – a girl in a crimson coat – moved as if to defend them something like purple flames grew about her hands – at once Hermione knew what it was.
It was unfocused magic – this girl could use it, but it was as unpredictable as "accidental" magic. Dangerous, but easily dealt with when magic focused from a witch or wizard was used. No words would be needed for this; it was not a spell as such things were understood after all.
Hermione's wand flicked to the wall, a force that eyes could not see followed the movement though, plucking the girl from the ground and pressing her securely against the wall. Arms and fingers spread from her torso.
"Shit." A rugged youth, one that she had not focused on, spoke – it was a distraction. A boy had pulled a lighter from his pocket flicking it on before he could be stopped – partly curious at this point, Hermione only watched as his hand passed over the fire, encouraging it to bloom into a sphere, then with a forceful movement – as if the fire was reluctant to be parted from him – he flicked the ball of flame toward her.
"Aguamenti…" Almost eagerly, water spurted from her wand tip, extinguishing the flames.
"Most intriguing…" Hermione complimented with a smile to the red haired boy, his hair was almost brown with streaks of red – there was no mistaking him for a Weasley, he did not even have freckles. His eyes were wide with shock, mouth parting – he seemed to realize that she had not attacked them, and was only defending herself – he wanted to call out against something, but it was too late.
The rugged youth had reached out his hand, eyes rolling back in his head as the ground shook. Hermione realized only then how much she had missed surprising those around her, engaging in "adventure". Though this "adventure" was not led by Harry – he was at the heart of it.
"Levicorpus…that will do, I do not think you can use that talent when you are not connected to the earth…though it is strange…" A light had burst and faded, and only then did they see Lance hanging from his feet up in the air. It had been the right move – as the ground had ceased buckling and its attempts at twisting.
"What is?" And older gentlemen, likely the oldest in the room, asked then. Hermione turned her attention to him, frowning only a little with a thought though she was focused.
"When you use something you are born with, it does not cause pain – it can be controlled. That is the point of evolution, it would serve little reason for it to harm when it is supposed to aid in survival. When there is time, it would interest me to learn why…" Hermione explained, relieved when the man nodded thoughtfully, proving he was an intellect on some level.
"It isn't natural?" The younger ones looked between the elder man and herself, as if conflicted to what to do. It was clear he was thought to be the leader.
"Not at all…." Hermione allowed, feeling something akin to pity to the youth – not only was he hanging by his feet, but his arms were crossed over his chest with his annoyance at being spoken about and his face was becoming quite flushed.
"We are so dead…" A small crouched boy, almost reptilian looking, muttered to his larger by far companion. Unsure, another girl looked to the crimson coated one as if worried, unharmed; she rolled her eyes somewhat exasperated. Hermione had not bothered to keep her from speaking; words did little good with "accidental" magic save to give it some focus other then raw emotion. It was natural, none the less, that "accidental magic" recognizing a more focused –and therefore powerful – nature would be 'shy', like a parent catching a child with a cookie unasked for.
"Not quite." A silver haired boy promised, looking to the crimson coated girl with determination. He moved then, too fast for her to see anything but a blur. Hermione closed her eyes whispering a word focusing instead on what she had seen of his features – he was assuredly unique.
"Petrificus Totalus." A screech of panicked anger from the crimson coated girl alerted her that she had indeed been successful in locking binding his movement, for he had fallen, now prone though he breathed and his eyes glared demanding into her own.
"It can be undone….I will see it reversed…please, do not be too alarmed, I do not want you to injure yourself." Hermione promised him, knowing that he was fearful of lasting damage. He only nodded, still looking shaky.
"I assume you know who I am looking for." Hermione spoke this time to the old man and the blue skinned woman with amber eyes who had watched, rather then react. These two were not surprised, though she wondered why it was, she had other concerns for the moment.
"You won't find him." Boy-hanging-by-his-angles-suspended-in-air grumbled, his mood seemed to reflect in the others, who stood taller and looked more sure, somehow empowered by his words. He reminded her of Harry. It hurt, somewhat.
"On the contrary, I will, it will only be a while before I find him and collect him. Things have changed, he must know that…" Hermione mused softly, worrying for her oldest friend, movement caught her eyes and she looked to see the slim boy and his larger companion stirring, motivated somehow by the dark clothed girl.
"We won't let the likes of you hurt him." The girl declared soft and threatening, slipping a glove off, it was the only bit of skin – save her face – that Hermione had had the chance to see. She was aware at once the sort of power the girl had with that glimpse.
It was the sort of power a young necromancer held, to bring life and power into themselves – and then, later, that life would spill power into the dead bringing them back – if under the power of the one that had summoned them. The girl was young though – without a family of wizards or witches, she would not know what she could do now was only the beginning. She would have control, if she learned properly. It was the teaching that was important.
Hermione knew all that, focused on that, rather then the sting of pain her words brought. She could not help but react to those words.
"Hurt him? I do not want to bring harm to him – he is my brother in all but blood!" Hermione wailed, knowing her magic lifted her hair in reaction to her emotions – frazzled as they had been – cried out in sorrow to think that Harry had abandoned everything and not spoken of it. Magic rippled clothing, as if caught in a breeze – in the moment she would never know how terrifying the Brotherhood had found her. There was nothing less then awe in them, they had grasped that Harry had a certain power – they had thought it subtle, but this was anything but.
Still, they did not yet understand why she had reacted as she had. No one could understand that sort of pain, of denying a part of who they were, better then Hermione.
"They do not know where he is." A hand laid itself on her shoulder, and Hermione quelled her outburst, knowing that if she wanted answers she had to be calm – Harry would need her to think, not merely react.
"Grwy…?" Hermione knew that no one else would have dared touch her, save for a being that could equal her magic and bring it to heel. The slender woman nodded her head, something like understanding in her gaze.
"Wyrd and I found a man, one these ones might know. He is quite…disagreeable." Eyes flinched toward the opened door, even as a serpentine head pressed through the threshold. Hermione caught sight of the oddity – gapping jaws and budging throat – almost at once. Her own eyes wend wide – she knew the winged serpent was certainly capable of killing – but swallowing a man whole, well, that was…almost sickening.
"He is alive." She murmured before anyone could speak.
Wyrd opened his mouth and seemed to gag and choke, spewing out slime covered Sabartooth, who looked most disagreeable to his treatment. No one dared snicker – or smile, for his expression was gravely serious.
"We've got problems, boss." Sabartooth stood, waving slime covered hands to shake the clinging saliva off. The older mans eyes narrowed, suspecting the news would not be good.
"Where are the others?" For the first time, the blue skinned woman spoke, and Hermione – who had thought her unable to do so – flushed.
"That's the problem – it was a fucking trap, I would have died had not this blood thirty hag and her freaky pet anaconda not decided I was worth … not eating…" That last part was almost growled though there was something like gratitude in his tone. There would be no thanks between them, no acknowledgement of debt or what was due – it was not necessary.
"I and mine go to war; we will steal back what is ours by dawns light." Wyrd, for the first time, spoke while the Brotherhood and Sabartooth could hear; there was shock – and a bit of disgust on the part of Sabartooth – so Wyrd was not interrupted. Grwy tilted her head in agreement to his words – or in farewell – even so both retreated from the wooden building that was somehow unnatural to them.
"Can they really do that?" It was the silver haired boy, who had asked, and Hermione nodded absently, knowing now that they would not attack she untangled her spells with a flick of her wand the girl with her crimson coat was released.
"Liberacorpus…Finite Incantatem." There was a thump as the boy who had been held upside down landed, but Hermione knew he would be alright, as would be the boy who she had put into the Body-Bind Curse.
"Fucking snake slime, bet he enjoyed that…." Sabortooth growled, gaze on the door.
"So, not to be rude – but who the hell are you?" Hermione found herself smiling; she too thought it well past time for introductions to be made.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Harry woke to golden eyes glaring down at him, there was curiosity in them, and some alarm. Harry must have made some noise – some sign of being awake, for what he understood next was that he was looking into a blue face. At first he thought, perhaps, that this was Mystique. In the next moment it was quite obvious he had been mistaken, for the slanted features and dotted blue skin showed plainly the differences.
Harry had not jerked, neither had he spoken, he felt sick.
"It is the drugs, you have wakened – but they have not faded." There was a tilted accent that Harry thought was very much like Krum. He couldn't place it otherwise and only blinked to show he understand.
"I am Kurt Wanger – you will be able to speak soon." It was a promise, and Harry was relieved to hear it.
"Where…?" It was less a word and more of a gasp, but Kurt seemed to grasp it none the less.
"I do not know where we are – but I know although I can teleport, something they have done prevents me." A tail flicked, curling and uncurling, it reminded Harry of something like a prehensile tail alike a monkey – because it seemed to have a use other then perhaps balance.
Harry tried to reach for his magic; it seemed to slip away, as if it was water. He couldn't use it – couldn't get away with the focus enough to either will a location to Apparate to, or think of a different place around him he could Disapparate from. It clanked and jumbled unpleasantly within his mind. He was trapped.
"I do not suggest you use any ability you may possess, they gave you something – an injection, besides the sleeping drugs they pore from the vents." Kurt told flatly, Harry realized only then that he remembered the labs being filled with bright light; he doubted they would have dimmed the lighting so that he could recover.
He looked about then, searching for an answer. He found one – all the shadows, from bars to chairs or desks – every one of them, stretched toward them, enfolded them in the shadows. Kurt was not surprised with this – it seemed to him something normal, something he had, in fact, done to draw the shadows to them.
"Why…" Harry's words faded a little as he sat up, his limbs numbed but mobile.
"They likely think we know each other – they wish to see us interact, sadistic – are they not?" Kurt smiled a little, Harry tried not to be disturbed by the fanged grin, and instead he smiled back. His head ached, as if he should have a wound to bleed from. There wasn't any blood.
…blood smeared across the cage, he had tried to Disapparate, his arm had gotten 'stuck' he was bleeding out, dying – there was shouting….
Harry had tensed up, then blinked, for though he could have sworn it had happened – that he had smelt blood and heard his own whimpering and the jittering words of scientists; nothing had changed…only something had…
They stayed caged up until Harry lost track of him, they talked – sometimes – it seemed Harry could hear words that Kurt did not say, and the words he did say came out twice as often. He didn't tell Kurt that, though it was obvious the other thought something was wrong. Harry knew before Kurt did when the scientists poured strange smelling gas from the vents.
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"You smell good." Harry blinked, somewhat startled, to hear this put so matter of fact. He felt like yawning, but he didn't know how early or late in the day it might be. Though what he woke up to was becoming sadly familiar – bright white lights and caged with someone else. The voice was, at least, one he had heard before, it was lower – somehow softer with husky undertones.
"Logan?" Harry asked dazedly, he felt movement, but strangely he realized that someone had a hold of him, he was pressed against a chest, his skin was hot and he realized only then that he –and whoever had a hold on him – was very mush without clothing. His cheeks felt as if they were burning.
"That's right, I'm sorry for this – really am, but those assholes really haven't given me much of a choice." Logan moved slightly and Harry felt his lips and nose against the sensitive flesh of his neck. Only then did he realize how vulnerable he really was.
"Wolverine…let him go…" Harry almost struggled – as it was he jerked with surprise, to hear Remy. He wanted a look at him, and Logan's grip loosened, as if he knew it. Harry had to stifle his sound of distress, Remy was slumped up against the cage bars, his chest…was a mess, and they had barely bothered with stitching him up again. Logan shifted closer to Harry, and Harry felt keenly the muscles pressed to his back, and the musky smell of smokes and drink and something far more primal besides.
"Sorry, Remy – it'd be you any other day, but even I'm not stupid enough to risk those gapping scars – I can smell your blood and meat from here. If we fucked – I don't know if I could resist tearing into you…and not in the good way." Remy smiled slightly, tired, as he tilted his neck back, flaunting his prone position. Logan swallowed clearly more tempted then he liked, and then snarled slightly, breathing in Harry's scent his lips touching his ear – making Harry squirm invitingly.
"What's wrong with you…?" Harry gasped, feeling a warm hand envelop his erection; he whimpered a little and saw the red in Remy's eyes darken.
"Have you ever seen an animal come into season to mate?" Logan growled in his ear, Harry bit his lip unable to speak, he felt overwhelmed – the heat of skin against his, the smell of another, and flickers of images that he didn't quite see- but understood all the same - that made his breath come fast and eager.
"Once…" Harry admitted, flushing – he had glimpsed the Thestrals mounting each other. It had been something he hadn't let anyone else know about.
"That's about what is happening to me, only on a whole different scale." Logan rumbled, likely scenting his arousal, Harry's hands were trapped behind him, against Logan's stomach. His fingers stretched out and clenched, even knowing he was as good as trapped didn't do any good. He felt Logan's breath hitch against his ear and realized that his fingers had scraped his length. Harry flushed, and then trembled a little when warm breath washed against his neck.
"With…with, me?" Harry muttered, knowing he wasn't making much sense – Logan chuckled, though it wasn't pleasant – it was somewhat bitter.
"Afraid so….sorry kid, don't have much choice in this. I'll make it quick and dirty, we don't have time for slow and easy – it'll be fun…" Logan's fingers around his shaft quickened and Harry wanted to arch and regain some of the control he had lost. Of course – he couldn't budge Logan, which was strange for he was strong though he knew he didn't look it.
"Logan…" Remy pleaded, his voice pained – Logan growled slightly as he ignored him, the fingers that had been fisting his cock moved further between his legs; fingers probing and twitching inside him. Harry closed his eyes at the sensation trying only to think of breathing.
"Not a fucking word, Swamp Rat – not one word." It was hissed against Harry's skin, then teeth bit into his shoulder and he wasn't sure if it was pain or pleasure he felt so vividly. He was aware then, when the pain twisted pleasure faded that there was more then a finger moving in him – there were two digits, pressing and tightening and stretching until Harry couldn't say a word. He was enjoying this, as brutal as it was – he found a certain about of relaxation in letting go of the control he had had all along. Of being forced to give it up…
"Like that, huh?" Logan groaned against his hair, inhaling. Harry felt keenly the length of the other man pressing urgently against his lower back. He imagined he could feel it quivering with eagerness even as Harry was prepared and used to his advantage.
"Y-yes…" Harry tried to answer, somewhat shakily, as he could not think long enough before pleasure twisted and stretched him.
"Good boy…" Logan hissed the words, dirty and somehow kind, even as he moved Harry to straddle his waist, the fingers moving to his length again as Logan pressed his eager length into Harry. A little at a time until Harry was arching and panting for breath his thoughts fleeing, scattering to nothing – which brought a different sort of relief.
Harry cried out, even so, and Logan snarled something he couldn't make out – it may not have been words, for Harry had no way of knowing. No way of thinking around the shaft that slid in and out, sometimes fast and sometimes slow, but always controlled – Logan did not lack in that. As mush as Harry liked that, he wanted next time – if there was a next time with or without whatever had been done – to be under his own terms.
It was to the thought of taking Logan that he came, pressing against the solid weight at his back, encouraging – seducing – Logan howled as he came, gripping Harry's hips hard enough to leave bruises, biting into the soft flesh of his neck – Harry felt the blood rush eagerly from his flesh and into Logan's mouth. Logan, content and somewhat satisfied, lapped at it, the effects of whatever had been done to him less, but he was not disgusted – neither did he move away.
Sated as they were, they had all but forgotten Remy – until he made an eager half-groan. Devil like red on black eyes watched them lazily, fingers flexing and fisting his eager length. He did not expect relief, but they had forgotten – or, in Logan's case, hadn't known – that Harry was a wizard, he might have looked past his twenties, but age was funny when it came to magic, his body was reacting as if it was still caught in his teenage years – eagerly his shaft quivered hard though it leaked with his semen.
"Remy…" Logan rumbled the word, something like longing and awe mixed up within his tones. Unashamed, Remy arched invitingly, licking his lips, eyes caught with Logan – there was mischief there alongside his keen desire.
Harry crawled forward, and Logan let him go, drained – somewhat – and eager to see what his best friend and newly made lover would do together. Harry crawled between Remy's sprawled legs, licking cat-lick at the skin between his thighs and along his shaft, Remy made a soft sound, half gasping as Harry took all of him in his mouth.
His tongue trailed along the shaft from base to tip, sucking, unaware that heated eyes watched, unaware that his throat and chest rumbled with something alike a purr. Logan licked his lips, eyes narrowed to slits, his eyes trailed along his backside, lingering on Harry's ass. Remy saw, smirking only a little when his hand tangled into dark hair and Logan growled somewhat possessively.
Remy found his head cradled between powerful hands as his lips were pressed to Logan's own, a low growl could be heard as lips parted and tongue wrestled while teeth gnashed. Remy spread his legs wider, arching his lower back forcing Harry to take more – Remy's thigh pressed against Logan's aching groin.
Remy cried out in the kiss, going limp as he came down Harry's throat – green eyes glistened with lust as Harry slowly rose up a trail of saliva and come wetted his lips. The three kissed, Remy's hand still lingering in wild dark hair and Logan licking the taste of Remy and Harry from bruised lips. It was only then they noticed that Harry's hand rested on Remy's chest – it should have caused immense pain to have his ruined flesh so abused – but Remy was whole – unblemished by scars. Logan narrowed his eyes as he took in Harry's unsurprised expression.
"What the hell are you?" Harry found his lips tilting in a smile; as the question was more curious then accusing. Despite the words used his welcome was still obvious, nestled as he was against Remy and Logan. In that moment he felt safe, protected – though Remy had tensed with Logan's question – for he knew how Harry had struggled to keep his past a secret – only now did it seem it needed to be spilled out.
"Wizard, well - mostly." Logan had started to laugh – but cut himself off, for he was the only one.
"You're not kidding, are you?" There was some wonder in his tone, and Harry yawned, pausing only to nod before he curled his head against Remy's neck.
"He is what he claims…" Remy murmured, watching carefully for his friend's reaction.
"Huh, that is interesting…" Logan mused, only they saw that Harry cringed before the alarm started blaring though the room. Though he chuckled a moment later, as if he found it funny – whatever was happening, they exchanged a look – for it seemed somehow Harry knew, for his reactions were odd.
Something like a scream of wind and a howl roared through their ears and other senses, made them uneasy and raised their hair along their necks and legs, but Harry opened his eyes then, seemingly reassured, he smiled at nothing in particular.
"Beware, mortals, my sister comes to kill you like the little pigs you are." It seemed that only just outside shots rang out and a man screamed; something unseen tore into flesh as they smelt blood and the cracking of bones.
"What's coming, Harry…?" Remy asked, even as he and Logan got slowly to their feet, as if to defend themselves.
"A Wild Hunt…" Harry purred the words, as the lights went out and his eyes – like a cats would – reflected amber light. Logan curled his hand into knuckles, a soft snickt was heard as dagger-like "claws" ripped though his flesh to form weapons, and they glinted truly metallic in the dark.
The door blew inward, and though the lights had gone out they could see plainly the eerie ghost like woman who stood into the room, silver eyes fixed on Harry. She looked like death, as magic tossed about her hair and clothing – chilling the skin. Only when a soft hiss of scales gliding against stone signaled the appearance of a giant winged snake, whose tongue flicked out; it slithered into the room to the bars of the cage.
"Wyrd…" Harry had gotten up, and before either Remy or Logan could have stopped him, his hand went through the bars and touched the serpents nose. It did not attack, as they had feared – instead they saw something impossible – Harry smiled, and the serpent flicked its tongue to taste Harry.
"You've had your fun, little cousin, we must go, or the witch will bring down this mountain in her revenge." The ground shook, but neither Remy nor Logan paid it too much mind – they both stared at Wyrd, unable or unwilling to admit what they had heard with their own ears. Very faintly, the woman smiled at Harry – nodding her head to Logan and Remy her hand flinched open and the bar creaked and squealed as they were forced open by the unseen.
"It is time to go." Those were her only words, but they were quickly obeyed.
"Couldn't agree more." Logan muttered, watching with something like astonishment as the giant winged snake let Harry climb onto its back after the strange woman. Remy and Logan exchanged a long look.
"Move…" Were the snake's hissed words, with its gapping jaws, it was no wonder they both made sure that – to the annoyance of the woman – Harry sat between them. When the snake started slithering quickly – its speed allowing it to hover with tilted wings, the two ran began to accept the so-called impossible.
There was no clear memory of how they went from within the base to flying in open air – among other wing serpents and ghostly females that hovered about them, they watched the base go up in smoke, and though it stormed about them – so dark that they could have thought it night if not for the faint light of grey – the flames did not go out.
An eerie howl of victory echoed off the mountains, striking terror down into the marrow of bones. Remy and Logan shuddered, even as the woman in front of them made the same haunting cry. This was something they would remember the rest of their lives.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Note;…two more!... –bouncybouncy- wheee!
PS- Thank you goes to Elfanyan who told me the real sound Logan's claws make!