Familiar

Please read the A/Ns below, skip the review replies if ya want.


To my wonderful reviewers…

Heksy…I was beginning to think I’d fallen off the face of the planet myself. This was the longest I’ve gone without updating and I’m sorry about that. But I’d just written a literature review as well as a four assignments (very long winded essays and powerpoint presentations) and took five 2hr exams (the exams in four days) all in the space of two weeks. So my head was completely dead and lifeless, I didn’t even read (which is quite serious for me) and just wrote a note saying which of the stories I’ve been reading had been updated. So I’m very sorry everyone but I couldn’t face writing after that.

So that’s the reason for the long wait last chapter and the quick update this time, wanted to make it up to you guys.

Angelkitty7888…Lol. It might be an ‘Oh my god I should’ve known that’, I’ve done that quite a few times myself. And I know its annoying when it seems to be at the back of your mind and you just cant get it. And I think our Harry’ll definitely be a predator, cant see him as a cute n cuddly bunny myself. Not when I know what bloods running through his veins, lol.

Rainstorm…Lol it may happen and thank you for liking my story

V.M… I like the abbreviation, short for a good combination. I agree with you completely and unless I feel justified in doing so Harry’s animal will be un-magical. He’s special enough.

AmaRae…I’m jealous too! I’ve always wanted really, really long hair, but 1: I’d look an idiot and 2: my hairs so damn fine (which equals messy) it wouldn’t lay half as nice. But we can dream . And no I won’t respond to your comment . A phoenix would piss Dumble’s off, but your right it is a bit too goody goody.

Chrys…A basilisk may be a ‘cliché’ but its as valid as any other idea . A lot of people seem to be suggesting a black panther, I may use that but I have seen it a lot in fics and I like to be as original as I can. Still undecided at the mo. Same goes for the two or more forms thing, I think it’d be great to have a water animal and a flying one, but I don’t think its been mentioned that more than one is even possible (in the books). I think I’ll only do two if I come up with something that I just have to have.


A/N1…Thank you to everyone who reviewed, a couple of people are slightly on the right track with the bloodlines, it depends on the image in their heads. But I’m glad I got loads of different answers. It’d be no fun if I couldn’t keep you guessing for a while.

And as to the Animagus transformations, wow some very good ideas there. I’m a bit torn though and will continue to listen to suggestions for now. It’ll be a few chappies before we find out what he is.


A/N2…Also want input on a few other things (call this ‘readers say’).

What about other characters?
Should they have an animagus form?
And what should they be?
Also what should their patronus’s be?
Any ideas for any of the other characters?

Let me know in a review, just make sure you put the name of the person before the creature n tell me if its animagus/patronus?

Does anyone have a good idea for Ron’s patronus in particular, it wasn’t mentioned in the books (mione’s an otter). Either that or my memories failing me, (which could be a problem).


Chapter 14: The Hogwarts Express


The following morning Harry awoke bright and early with Krai lying curled on his stomach, his tongue flicking in and out while he slept. It was early, too early to be up. He looked around to see if one of the elves had popped in and left something, but nothing came to his mind as he perused the room. He put it out of his mind and drifted back to sleep, but it would be something that would remain in the back of his mind all day, along with the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was almost like he was waiting for something. A bit like apprehension, no… anticipation, that was it.

When he awoke later to Krai’s gentle hissing in his ear, he put the feeling out of his mind and finished packing his trunk. Without the Weasley’s scurrying around and forgetting their things he managed to get to the station at half ten, which gave him plenty of time to find a compartment. It was strange but he found himself looking for someone as he wound himself around the platform. He ignored the whispers that followed him and the cats that wound around his legs. He was keeping his eyes open for Malfoy, for once in his life he wanted to see the git.

***

Draco hadn’t felt this queasy since his first train ride. He’d hid it from his father then, just as he hid it from his mother now. His father had got out of Azkaban on a technicality and was now having to repair his ‘public image’, since then his mother had taken over running his life. But she wasn’t as subtle as father. But she wasn’t as subtle as father. She had less interest in him, than in her social standing. He knew why that was of course. He was his father’s heir, but to his mother, he was the child she birthed to fulfil her obligation under the marriage contract.

There was nothing in the contract that said she had to take an interest in her offspring. But mother dearest wasn’t dumb either, she knew if daddies little DE in training went to pot, she’d be blamed and her bank card would be tossed out of the window. He couldn’t bring himself to care about his mother though, he had something more important to worry about. School!

Draco Malfoy had changed and he didn’t like to admit it. But he had to really. He’d learnt something over the summer and it hadn’t cost him anything to learn it (unlike most of the other lessons learnt in his life), no money, none of his blood, only silent tears shed in the privacy of his chambers.

Something had snapped in Draco that day, the letter had hit him hard but he didn’t let it show. He hadn’t spent all these years erecting a mask to lose it when he needed it the most. Draco was grieving, actually grieving, he couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t something a Malfoy did. But did he want to be a Malfoy? There it went again, his thoughts running away too fast and ending up in areas he couldn’t bring himself to contemplate yet. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to think about those things.

He’d done some re-evaluating over the summer since he’d met Aidan. The boy had got him thinking that first day in Knockturn Alley. He didn’t really know what about him had caught his attention, he was average looking, totally unmemorable, not particularly powerful, smart or witty and he definitely wasn’t someone a Pureblooded Malfoy heir should associate with. Privately, maybe more subconsciously, he knew that the reason he had almost latched onto the boy as his own personal lifeline, was because for a moment, he’d sounded like Potter. And that thought was too alien for Draco to think about at the moment, so odd it just didn’t enter his mind. Much anyway.

Writing to Aidan had loosed a knot on the noose he didn’t know was around his throat. He’d never even noticed it before. Not when his father had pushed him to ride his first broom, not when his father had hit him when he fell off and cried. And he definitely hadn’t felt it closing around him when his father, guilted him into believing that the whole thing was his fault and that three year olds were perfectly capable of riding adult brooms. No, he’d never noticed the noose, but now that he knew it was there he wanted nothing more to cut it, or at least loosen it before the sudden drop he knew was coming.

You see he knew that this was it. This was the year. His Mother was in the Dark Lord’s bed, while his father screamed in Azkaban (he couldn’t help smiling at that) and because of that, he knew that the Dark Lord was going to try and end it all this year. He didn’t know when the attack would come, he knew where though…Hogwarts. And he expected Draco to join him on the front line, with all his Slytherin year mates lined up in front of him as Voldemorts own personal shield wall.

Draco didn’t want that to happen, he didn’t want to die, wasn’t ready for it in the slightest. But he knew he’d either have to be ready by the end of the year or not, the bastard was so bloody predictable, he’d attack at the end of the year, like he had done every time before.

But even if the prospect of death hadn’t been enough to turn him away from Voldermorts path (which it wasn’t because he could just as easily die for the light), the fact that Voldemort liked Malfoys in his bed was. His grandfather had been first and when he’d become too old for Voldemorts tastes, his son, Draco’s father had taken his old mans place and with Lucius away his wife would play. Draco had no intention of joining up as well.

His mother took great pleasure in the fact that she was so favoured and that he would follow her, she often told him of her and times together, the pain mixed with the pleasure. And he knew she was looking forward to seeing him there instead of herself, even his mother didn’t want to stay in that bed. And that was where she seemed to spend most of her time, never mind the man or woman she was with. As long as she gained something from it, that was fine. That was why she had married Lucius in the first place, for status, and to cultivate the Dark Lords taste for lithe blondes. Draco shuddered, he wouldn’t live with that. He couldn’t.

Those thoughts had already been going through his mind when Aidan had shown up. On that first day he’d felt like he could even love Aidan, but in the letters he felt nothing more than a camaraderie and shared pain. Aidan was a friend, nothing more and Draco had dismissed that first day feeling as pure fancy. When he’d received that first letter though, his heart had been in his throat, he didn’t know what to expect. He’d opened that letter slower than any other. And when he’d read it, he’d been thankful that those words made him think of nothing but friendship. The prospect of loving someone was as alien to the young Malfoy as defying his father’s wishes. Malfoy’s don’t love.

After that first reply the words had been formed easily by Draco’s quill, he wrote as smooth and as quick as he ever had when corresponding with his family while away. Which left him in no doubt that he meant the words. The writing had changed him. He’d re-evaluated his life and so far had found nothing he was proud of. Apart from getting on the Slytherin team, but that had been short-lived when he had realised that his Father had bought his way onto the team, just like the mud…granger had said. That word, the ‘m’ word was still a reflex he was struggling to avoid.

He then went onto what he wanted from life and none of it was what a Malfoy should want. He wanted a lover…maybe a husband, not a wife (he’d figured that out too) and a child, hell he wanted a lot of children. Why were all purebloods restricted to only having one child anyway? What did he want to be when he left school, a deatheater? Voldemorts whore? Hell no! Did he want to be an auror, fight the dark? Not really. Where did that leave him? Stuck in limbo that’s where, but it was better than being the Dark Lord’s whore/errand boy.

After figuring all that out and realising if it wasn’t for Voldemort and the war, he’d probably be quite a normal teenager, one who either knew what he wanted to do or didn’t, but would figure it out eventually. It was possible however to be on the light side and fight in the war and maybe if they won…when they won (they had Potter) he could teach flying at Hogwarts. Now that was almost a dream. A dream he’d never dared voice.

When he was young and Voldemort wasn’t around, he’d been groomed for an un-official position in the ministry like his father. He definitely didn’t want that. He wanted the wind in his face. He did entertain the possibility of being a professional quidditch player, but very few people actually made it. He was more realistic than that. And he didn’t believe for one moment that if he did fight, he’d come out of the war fit enough to survive a match. He knew what the deatheaters could do, after all he’d been trained to be one.

He was straying…the point was Aidan had helped all those thoughts out of his head and now he was gone. Killed by that ugly, snakelike bastard in that stupid raid on Beauxbatons.

Draco could just imagine it, he’d been there once. The walls of the small castle blown apart, the bodies on the floor, the broken wands of the crest. Just like if Hogwarts was destroyed, the crest would split apart and the animals would die bloody deaths and soak the fabric the black of old blood ‘till nothing remained. The castle would fall to ruins, just as it appeared to any muggle who strayed too close. He didn’t want to think of Aidan there, wondering whether or not the boy’s father had gone for his body, whether there was a body or whether it had been burned in the mass pyre, one of those faceless and now nameless individuals.

Aidan had given him something with his death though, the need to not end up like him. Dead, never having broken away from his father and the life he didn’t want to lead. He didn’t want to end up like that and he was damned if he would. He would change his life and he would go about it in his own way.

The first thing was to sound out the other Slytherins and see if anyone intended to join him. He could do it discreetly enough and he’d obliviate anyone he wasn’t sure of. He could count on Blaise, he knew that. Maybe Pansy. Crabbe and Goyle were too dumb to make a decision themselves, they’d follow him but they’d also tell their fathers every damn word he said. He’d have to tread carefully with those two. But tread he will. He had to. They were as trapped as he was.

***

Time passed quite quickly for Harry. His friends were around him, joking and laughing at things they’d done over the summer. For once Harry didn’t feel left out, he found that he had some things to tell them this year. Whereas before, every fun thing he had done had been with the people around him now. But this year he could tell them what he had done without them knowing it all already.

He told them how he had spent time learning to swim, running around the grounds, exploring his home, he told them about his muggle shopping trip and his suspicions of Hedwig finding a boyfriend, well mate, and disappearing for days on end. He noticed his owl looked a bit sheepish at this, if it was possible for an owl to look sheepish that is. He smirked at her, she just gave him one of those sideways looks and promptly turned around on her perch to face the wall.

It was a bit later when Harry found himself needing the bathroom, he left the compartment and headed in the necessary direction, lost in his thoughts. He didn’t realise that heads were turning and that people were opening their compartment doors and staring after him as he passed. He didn’t notice this, instead he was thinking of something that was puzzling him.

He hadn’t seen Draco that morning, he was usually about on the platform somewhere, his goons in tow. And for once Harry had been early, he hadn’t arrived with only a few minutes to spare like he had in first year, or every year thereafter when he waited while the Weasleys got organised. He’d expected to see him there. Add to that the fact that it was almost fully dark now, the train would be arriving within the next half hour and Malfoy and his goons hadn’t come looking for him. It seemed another train tradition had been broken.


***

Krai had slipped out of the compartment after his master. He wanted to see if Harry spoke to anyone, observing a short conversation between his master and another, would tell him more about his masters feelings for that person, than what his master told him. He saw all the heads turn and the compartment doors open. In fact he had to slither almost under Harry’s feet a few time to avoid eager girls with spiky heeled shoes from stepping on him. He was a familiar, he wasn’t indestructible.


***

He met no one on the way to the bathroom, which he was quite thankful for. The platform had been enough of a drain.

He locked the cubicle door, took care of business, washed his hands in the lone little sink that had to serve three different cubicles and was just about to leave when the door opened so fast he was sure someone had kicked it and a body smashed into him. They fell to the ground and Harry, after shaking his dazed head a bit found that he liked the position he was in. The others head was on his chest, one arm was trapped between them and the other seemed to rest lightly on his shoulder. The man’s (for man it had to be they were in the boys toilets after all) right leg was between his own pressed against a slightly ‘interested’ area and his other was bent at the knee. Only the harsh breathing of the one on top of him revealed the position was ‘accidental’. Although the slight bulge in the other man’s trousers could tell a different story.

‘You know, as comfortable as I think your chest is Potter, do you think you could let go of me so that I could get off this floor.’ Hearing the drawling voice of Draco Malfoy, Harry was almost so happy he did not want to let him go. He realised then that he was clutching the blondes hair with one hand and the other was clutching his shirt, Draco couldn’t move without leaving some of his hair between Harry’s fingers. Harry loosed his vice grip almost reluctantly (so not gonna think about that yet) and Draco slowly got up to his hands and knees. Unfortunately for Harry, Draco’s knee rubbed Harry’s erection in the process, causing him to gasp.

Draco’s eyes shot to his startled for a moment, before a slow smile, one he’d never seen before graced his lips.
‘So… you like that Potter?’ Pressing his knee forward slightly. Harry had to bite his lip from moaning. Malfoy smirked at that, looking very proud. But somehow this smirk didn’t make Harry want to punch him in the face, instead he was sure that if he’d been standing his legs would’ve gone weak. After a moment where they just stared Draco moved.




Now aren’t I evil for ending there, hhhhmmmm? Gotta do it, sorry. You’ll have to wait until next chapter to find out what happens next.

Please if you’ve read, review.

P.S. I know I’m gonna be ducking a few metaphorical bats when you all read this, but I’ve finally given you a bit of H/D so be nice n remember that when you swing.

N I know Harry’s supposed to be the dom (that refers as much to his nature as the sex) but Draco’s allowed to take the initiative (isn’t he?).