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Furry Magic

By: neichan
folder Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Lucius
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 104
Views: 136,595
Reviews: 711
Recommended: 4
Currently Reading: 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
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chapter 111 epilog

Title: Furry Magic, chapter 111

Disclaimer: HP is not mine.

A/N: This is it folks! The end of FM! (Of course it really will live on.....any time any wonderful reader reads it again.) Unless...if someone wants to write a missing chapter, or if I do... just float it by me if you have an idea you would like to try. Bless all of you who have stuck with me, and sent all the incredible FB. I loved the FB as much as writing.... You are all stars! Love, hugs and kisses.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Harry Potter, Chosen of the king of the pride, sat in the quiet of the Room of Rules and Laws. He found the room, with it's symbol-incised walls, to be relaxing and infinitely welcoming. The magic within it, the years of tradition, embraced and held him gently. Making him feel...know...he was indeed part of the were-leopard pride of Lucius Malfoy. Here, he belonged. There was no question or doubt in his mind. He felt the room enfold him, hold him gently in it's bosom.

Once he had felt rejected, once he had feared that he was not loved, that he would never truly belong to anyone or to anything, any place. Now. He had all those things. He had Ron, Draco, the other kittens. He had Lucius, a man he loved more than he thought he ever could love anyone. A man who had stood up with him and declared his love and devotion in a ceremony that skirted the line of the laws he lived by. But he had done it, for Harry.

He had Graeme, too, who took care of him fiercely, watched out for him, gave him safety and comfort. He had Blaise, the other kitten, his almost mentor and a friend. He had Draco who had become his very best friend. He was valued and loved and fulfilled. He was happy. He had the love of a strange and wonderful man, a man who was a king, and who's people loved and worshiped him. The same people who held out open arms to Harry.

Harry never thought he'd want to live like this. At first he'd believed it was all wrong, that it was worse than anything he'd endured before. That was wrong, but he hadn't know that then. The sharing, the love and the lust. The couplings. They had made him feel used, that he was going to burst, to weep and to rail against the unfairness, that Lucius was not his and his alone. But. He learned that it was just his reaction to the unknown. Fear. To being unsure and insecure. To not knowing he was well and truly loved.

How strange that now he could see Lucius with his people, even with other kittens, and feel no jealousy. Lucius was more than just Harry's, he belonged to the rest of the pride. Lucius was the king and the heart of the pride. Harry was very simply, the highest in the king's esteem, his most treasured and most beloved. He had nothing to fear any longer. Harry spent the night in Lucius' arms and his bed. Lucius broke tradition for him. Harry was the first Chosen to lay in his pride king's bed. The bed for the leaders of the pride: the king, his second and third. Never any other. Until Harry.

It had taken time, and the touch of other were-leopards, but Harry knew that he was not alone, that Lucius was not the only person who he had to rely on, depend on. Amrys, Graeme, Tanith, Draco, even the once terrifying Severus Snape...the list was long. Harry had a whole community now.

He was deeply lost in pleasant thought when a warm hand settled on his shoulder. Harry gasped and turned, caught entirely by surprise. His lycanthrope hearing and senses usually made it impossible to sneak up on him. Not so today. He flushed with happiness when he saw it was Lucius behind him.

"Why are you here, Harry?" The king asked, his face shining as he looked down at his Chosen. He stroked a finger along Harry's pink cheek, eyes lingering on the sweet lips. "This is a sacred place. I wonder...why do you come here so often?"

"It calls to me, makes me feel peaceful. Good." Harry said, leaning his cheek against the broad back of the pale skinned hand. The big, fearsome hand rotated, cupped his face. Loved him.

"It is like there is a feeling of the past, and the pride here." The young man answered, knowing that he was only able to put part of what he was experiencing from his visits here into words. He couldn't describe the incredible draw of the runic words and the stone and the walls. The feel of incredible antiquity, great age. This was a place of...forever. And it called to him. Lured and beckoned him.

"It is a place of our pride's magic. And you are of the pride. So it lays claim to you, Harry." Lucius seemed to understand, and Harry sighed happily. He leaned his head back as Lucius settled down behind him, so warm. "Would you wish to pay tribute to the pride?" The big man asked, his hand spreading out on Harry's belly, a shield, a caress.

Harry tilted his head back to look up into the so handsome face. His chest swelled with joy. Yes, he wanted.... "Tribute? How? What do you mean?"

"The Room is the most ancient part of the pride. It is the repository of our laws and our rules and our history. It is what we have been, what we are, what we will be, my Chosen. Some times we give back to it's magic for sustaining our memory, for reminding us of ourselves, our pride." Lucius slid his long, strongly muscled arms around Harry, holding tight, secure. Harry shivered in delight. There was nothing like the touch of all that power, physical and heartfelt, to send him spinning. The press of those great biceps, that firm belly, rippling against him. It was as if...Lucius was the embodiment of all that was noble and honorable, and was endowed with the primordial power of the pride. It's very essence.

Harry gulped at the burning intensity of the man's pale, silvered blue eyes. "And..." He swallowed again, his skin tingling, "Uh...how would we do that?" He half squeaked, mouth dry with longing. Lucius smiled and his head lowered towards Harry's.

"This is how....Lay with me, beloved. Give me of yourself, here, among the memories, and the dreams, the past and the future of what we are. Give yourself to me....surrender yourself, love." He murmured softly as his lips hovered over those of the slender, emerald eyed youth.

"This is how we give honor..." And they kissed, soft as a breeze, wet and warm, the feel of it seeping gloriously into Harry's bones, singing through his flesh, sighing in his heart. The air crackled, swirled and coalesced, caressing over his skin, warming him, accepting him, taking him. Harry moaned when Lucius lifted his head away. His damp, glistening lips still parted, straining up, needing the touch, the taste, and feel of his man.

"How...how many times?" He asked, blinking dazedly. But the were-leopard understood what he was asking.

"I have offered only once before. When I chose Amrys and Graeme as my second and third. I came here to offer thanks with them, leaving our seed here, our pleasure and our thanks. I have never had anything worthy of the Room of Rules and Laws since that day. Not until now. Harry." The long blond hair fell around them both as Lucius reached up and undid the knotted tie. Nearly Harry's favorite thing, that light touch of long, satin strands. Then there was the heated, skilled mouth, the vibrant skin, the magical hands, the incomparable, dominating body, the person his lover *was*, he sighed, a trembling, needing, ,joyous sound.

"Worship with me...." It was a sigh, a breath, hot and sweet caressing Harry's skin, all over, in more places than should have been possible, curling in possession, between his legs, tempting him. He shivered in joy, tingling and moaning, his hands willingly tugging at the man's thin silk trousers, pawing hungrily over the exquisite bare chest. Muscle's curved under his hungry hands, filled them to overflowing, lifted him, spread him. Adored him. With tongue and spit and and lips wandering. As Harry found and grasped the magnificent curve of buttocks, slabs of artistic perfection, driving tenderly into him. Power enough to break him...but healing him instead.

"Oh Ghod, oh Merlin!" Harry groaned into the sensual cavern of his lover's mouth. Lucius had him naked and spread out on the floor furs, that fast, open, unshielded, a sacrifice of love and lust, desire burning, too fast and hot for Harry to believe it was only moments since the other man had found him. His chest heaved up, arching into the tongue laving his taut nipple, wandering up his arched throat.

The bites were welcome, driving the fire in his ignored and empty core that much higher. He lifted himself offered...waited and wanted the fingers that found him, slid over him, his tight opening, paying homage to that part of him that brought his king such great, blinding pleasure. Then inside, long and deep, reaching, spreading gently, until Harry moaned, full, shaking begging with whispers and hips canting. Throwing his near leg over the man's hips, heel finding lodging at the small of Lucius' back, binding them together.

"Oh....more. Please more." The sigh, dizzying. Harry sobbing, hands up flung, arms wide, legs lifted up to straddle and cup, and encircle the powerful hips of his beloved. The first touch, wet, hot, straining, at the center of him, almost too much, then sliding infinitely slow, and not nearly enough, as he groaned, and the man smiled at him while he arched and begged.

And Lucius entered him. All long, steady, slow torture of the most insane sweetness. Plumbing him fully, deeply, stealing his breath, focusing all his feeling to that place, that most intense pleasure of giving, of Lucius taking and owning him. Their hips meeting, flush, no deeper penetration possible, melding and merging, Harry's body lifted by slender pelvis, his upper body flowing back and down, his dark curls tumbled around his face. A dark angel, marble skin glowing, slim erection straining, body taken and opened, thrust by thrust.

"Oh," he said, breathed, "....oh...love....you...." A sigh floating....gone.

He writhed, bent as he was, held for his beloved's pleasure, legs knotted higher around the man's waist, buttocks cleaved, his moans taking wing, sweat dewing his belly, his chest, pooling in the hollow of his throat. Lucius' hands his anchor, his fulcrum as they moved together in ancient rhythm, in pleasure, in sharing, in joy, as he was taken, as he gave and surrendered.

The slick surge, so far, dilating him. Harry moaned. Out, tight and hard, in, pressing, stroking, opening him further. Oh, ghod. Oh no. In, in. Oh yes. Like that. Harry cried out. Lucius growled, bending down again, covering the shivering, shaking kitten with kissing, sharp bites, enveloping him taking what was his. In and out, and in. Always, that was it. In.

In.

Until it was so much, too much, enough, and Harry screamed it. His pleasure, his release, shooting it up into the air, into the magic of the Room of Rule and or Law.

And it was taken, his offering, as Lucius filled him, Fingers digging into him, the slick heat of his hips, unable to resist the tight squeezing, caressing around his throbbing, blood filled member, buried deep in his Chosen's body. The air glittered and sparkled and grew golden sheened. Harry's seed turning to tiny stars, taken as the gift from the very magic of the air.

And Lucius gave to his beloved as much as had been taken, his love, his body, his devotion, his seed. His Pride. His sacrifice.

And Harry belonged.

The End!!

ne'ichan
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