Bewitching Changes

DISCLAIMER: Warning! I make no claim to any property of J.K. Rowling's, and am in no way profiting by this. I do offer her my sincerest thanks for allowing us this garden of the mind in which we play. Further Warning! This story...and likely any I ever write…are dominated by gay themes and characters. That's how it is, if this in any way makes you uncomfortable...do not read further.


Bewitching Changes Part 2: Yule Never Forget This.…by Samayel


It had been a very strange year by anyone's standards, and easily the most unusual in recent memory, at least for the staff and students of Hogwarts. Weird happenings had heralded the emergence of Draco Malfoy as a Veela, and Harry's sudden status as his mate-for-life. Things hadn't been entirely easy for the new couple, but they'd been just as hard for the rest of the school.

First, Draco possessed almost no control over his newfound powers, and even though Harry, as his mate, was almost entirely immune, the rest of the school was not. So overwhelming were Draco's impulses, that when he was in a foul mood, which was fairly often compared to most, the entire school became curt and snappish, and Snape quickly became unbearable. By the same token, when Draco was unusually cheerful, as often happened just after sex with Harry, the entire school became giddy and elated along with him, and more than one student would carry to their grave the sight of Argus Filch dancing, smiling, and singing old show tunes.

These weren't the worst problems by a long shot. The biggest problem was Draco's libido, which, being newly mated, had flowered to life quite dramatically. His power over Harry was largely limited to being able to excite lust with almost no effort, and enhance Harry's pleasure so powerfully that he would never even consider taking another lover. Veela knew how to keep their mates! The problem wasn't even that he was exceptionally needy right now, and tended to unconsciously drown Harry in pheromones that cried out for immediate action. The problem was that, in his frantically horny state, he was broadcasting his lust to the entire school at irregular intervals throughout the day, causing classes to dissolve into random chaos, and very nearly causing several members of the staff to violate the school's ethics policies.

Most of the time, no one attending a school like Hogwarts would show the slightest interest in magic that decreased lust. Until this year. Now ingredients were running short for Lust Reducing Potions, and every book that hinted at the control of sexual urges by spell had been checked out continually for weeks. Impotency Curses had suddenly become a new vogue, no longer an insult or a cruelty, but a blessing that could rescue friends from embarrassing circumstances.

Given Draco's wild moods, an average day saw students running an emotional gamut from deliriously happy to suicidal to outraged within an hour, and more than a few impromptu orgies had already transpired. Attempts to separate Draco and Harry had been met with resistance so fierce that they'd been quickly abandoned, since Draco had only just mated, and demanded almost constant reassurance and contact.

Contact, in Harry's case, almost always resulted in some form of penetration of Draco, and if it hadn't been for Draco's innate ability to excite Harry effortlessly, poor Harry would have collapsed from exhaustion long ago. It turned out that the enchantment between them was very much mutual, and Harry could excite Draco with nearly the same degree of ease.

Dumbledore had promised to research a cure for the matter, which was reaching epic proportions as more and more students began to dodge classes and let grades slip, rather than face rivals they'd wound up snogging the day before, all compliments of one of Draco's moods. Ron Weasley was still seeing a therapist because of the 'incident' on the Quidditch pitch, where he'd been arguing over a foul with Vincent Crabbe, only to be struck by a wave of lust that left them snogging in the grass, mindless, for a half hour before it passed, ending when Harry and Draco had finished, and Ron suddenly realized what he was doing. The screams were heard in Hogsmeade. Vincent Crabbe's only comment afterwards had been, "Well, at least he's got decent lips."

On the brighter side, Hermione Granger was now seeing Blaise Zabini, since any prolonged period of conversation between them had started transforming into snogging sessions that they'd both rather liked, and it just made sense at that point to call it dating, rather than hem and haw over the details.

The ever-popular Seamus Finnegan had been the cause of several fights between girls vying for the right to follow him everywhere he went, in hopes of being at his side as a 'lust wave' hit, until one finally happened, while Seamus was just out of range and slipped away, leaving four rival girls to console one another, romantically, in his wake.

On a side note, bisexuality had not only become socially acceptable, of late, it become quite popular.

As a further side note, it should be mentioned that even Neville Longbottom finally got laid…and Colin Creevey's bum was sore for two days afterwards.

Madam Pomfrey was beside herself, and threatened mayhem regularly, since contraceptive spells had become the topic of urgency in every conversation she had now, and potion supplies for the same purpose had dwindled alarmingly as the weeks passed. If things got much worse, a wave of pregnancies could sweep the school into deeper scandal than the current crisis had, and that took some imagining! Traditionally, these things were only needed by a few 'over-active' students who had matured sufficiently to make use of them. Handing them out en-masse, to every member of the student body in or beyond their third year, was most definitely NOT something she was prepared for, but it was very nearly the only way to prevent further tragedy!

Everyone, save for a dissatisfied few who had to leave new lovers behind, was relieved to see the holidays finally come, allowing a certain peace to settle back over their lives, as children left for their homes, finally safe from the overpowering aura of perpetual lust that hung over Hogwarts.

Draco could no longer return to the Malfoy estate, since his attachment to Harry meant that he was now on Voldemort's 'most wanted dead' list, coming in second only to Harry, with Dumbledore trailing a distant third. They took refuge in 12 Grimmaud Place, and though it annoyed certain members of the Order to no end (especially Snape, who would never forgive them for what happened when he was downstairs at precisely the wrong time…with Remus Lupin), at least they were fairly happy together…except when Draco felt 'testy', which was almost the only way he ever felt when he wasn't horny…but at least it was blessedly rare that he ever felt anything but the former.

Inevitably, the time away from school needed to be employed gainfully, since Harry had a war to fight against Voldemort, and the search for Horcruxes was a vital part of it. Several had already been destroyed, and Harry found two more in short order and promptly finished them off as well. One more remained to be found, and likely it was hidden in Voldemort's hideout, making it inaccessible without a full assault.

Draco had suffered through two long waits, wondering if Harry would survive, nearly climbing the walls with rising panic, until Harry returned triumphant, and spent a couple of days making up for it all…in the expected way…by giving his somewhat emotional Veela mate everything he wanted, several times over, until his own body was near collapse.

When Draco found that Harry was planning a surprise raid on Voldemort's hideout, with the Order making a bluff attack at the front gates to draw away support, while Harry snuck in and destroyed the last Horcrux, Draco went ballistic. His fit of temper had half the Order at one another's throats, and only Harry's final agreement to let him come along prevented open bloodshed in the Black estate. Unfortunely, like so many things in life, the raid didn't go quite as planned.

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"Any other bright ideas, Mr. 'Savior of The Wizarding World? Hmmm? This is what I get for letting you talk me into this!"

Draco's face was pinched with fury while he rattled the manacles that held him to the wall, just a few feet from where another set held Harry. Harry rolled his eyes with frustration.

"Hey! I? I talked you into this? You threw a bloody tantrum until you got your way! I begged you to let me do this alone! How the hell is this my fault?!"

"Duh! Veela to mate…speaking now…you're the mate…it's always your fault! Someone has to be blamed for this, and I'm already suffering enough! LOOK! These manacles don't match anything I'm wearing! If these chains chafe my wrists any more, I'll bleed, and blood stains are, like, pure protein…they're hell to get out of good material like this! And I have allergies! This basement is just full of mold. If I break out…you have NO idea how much trouble you're in!"

Harry turned red and stifled complete outrage. Then he decided to let some out after all.

"MY FAULT? BLAME ME? Draco! You are the most self-centered, insipid, air-headed, sniveling BITCH…that I have ever seen! We only got caught because you tore my pants off in the hallway, because you just couldn't even wait until we were out of here to get at my dick! I finally destroy the last Horcrux, and now we're chained to a wall, in Voldemort's headquarters, after being Stunned by a patrol that found us half naked! THIS IS NOT MY FAULT!"

Draco blanched. Harry had never raised his voice to Draco quite that way before! Draco's lower lip trembled, and his eyes began to moisten quickly. He pouted uncontrollably while he sniffled out his response to Harry's accusations.

"But…but…you know I can't help it…when…when you look at me that way! All fierce and everything! And…and you smelled so good…and I was under stress…I just needed my mate! All I get for showing my love is…is YOU…yelling at me! Stupid Gryffindor clod!"

Harry hung his head in simmering rage and shame, as Draco broke out the waterworks and bawled loudly, while Harry hated himself for the words that had just crossed his lips out of pure anger and nothing more.

-----Elsewhere in Voldemort's Lair-----

Unbeknownst to Harry and Draco. Voldemort meant to make short work of them, and gathered his inner circle about him, heading for the dungeon to end this war once and for all, with himself as the final victor. It had been a strangely pleasant day so far, and just about an hour ago, for the first time in decades, he'd actually felt quite randy! To make the afternoon even better, his guards had repulsed a brief attack by Dumbledore's pathetic Order, and then captured his two most desired enemies as well. It was all he could do to prevent himself from breaking character and skipping on the way down to the dungeon.

They were only a hundred yards from the dungeon chamber when a sudden spate of bickering broke out amongst the inner circle flanking and following the Dark Lord. A sudden wave of extreme irritation filled him. This was the moment of his final victory over the Potter brat, and the insipid fools that served him were twittering like adolescents! Insufferable!

"CRUCIO! CRUCIO! CRUCIO!…AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Three of his followers fell to the ground shrieking, another fell to the ground a cold corpse. The bickering paused for only a second or two before beginning anew.

Several Unforgivables later, the Dark Lord and a tiny cadre of his closest followers were all that remained. The march to finish off Potter and that pathetic Veela son of Lucius' continued.

--------Back In The Dungeon Chamber------

"Unsophisticated prat!"

"Spoiled tramp!"

"Pathetic Gryffindork!"

"Vicious bitch!"

"Bastard!"

"Punk!"

"Prick!"

"Slut!"

Draco was crimson with sullen outrage, and Harry was breathing heavily, bellicose and full of smoldering anger. The flushed features of Draco's face pulled Harry's attention away from the resentment and tension that had filled him only a second ago. Nostrils flaring, testosterone and adrenaline pounding through his system, Harry's anger shifted almost instantly to naked and all-encompassing lust. His voice was a heady and tantalizing whisper, and his eyes were faintly darkened by lust.

"You're so bloody beautiful when you're angry. Gods…I love you, Draco."

The intensity of Harry's gaze was more than Draco could bear. He was still irritated to no end with his mate, but Harry was just that…his mate. He had no power to resist that look from Harry, his body responded automatically, and a gnawing emptiness crept through him, an emptiness only Harry could fill.

"Salazar's Beard! Harry…Harry…I need you. Now. Right here. I don't care if we die…I need you!"

Veela had more than just one or two powers, and however poorly controlled Draco's powers were, he still possessed them. The sight of Harry struggling to free himself from manacles, unable to make his way to Draco when he was called, drove Draco into a frenzy. Metal twisted and shrieked, and stone cracked and crumbled, and Draco tore himself free from the wall he'd been hung from, marched immediately to Harry, and ripped Harry's chains right off the bolts that held them to the stone. A second frenzy of torn and shredded clothing later, Draco managed one last coherent phrase before succumbing completely to Harry's desire.

"I…want…you…in…me…NOW!!!"

There was nothing pretty, or gentle, or delicate about what came next. Previously, their lovemaking had been that of new mates, not long ago virginal, fumbling, and yet passionate in their own right. This was nothing like those encounters. It was utter savagery.

Draco bit Harry's shoulder with an unfeigned level of violence that sent Harry reeling into adrenal overload. He entered Draco swiftly, and more brutally, than either of them might ever have dared consider when rational, and Draco's sharp hiss and low growl were of muted approval nonetheless.

Orgasm was meaningless, and on a surging tide of frantic hunger and adrenaline-laced need, neither of them paid any heed to their bodies first releasing, instead just continuing as they had, only a few keening noises marking the moments of climax, before they moved on, slaking one another's wildest lusts.

----------Returning To The Hallway----------


Voldemort and his remaining cronies stopped in the hallway, only a scant dozen feet from the door that separated the Dark Lord from his final revenge, reeling in momentary confusion. Only Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy, MacNair, Mr. Nott, Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle remained. They swooned for a few seconds, as a wave of utter and absolute sexual desire rippled through their very being.

A second later, things got ugly.

A minute later, the floor of the dungeon hall was littered with black robes and other articles of clothing.

Five minutes later nothing could be heard in that dreaded hallway but the groans and gasps brought by the indulgence of orgiastic lust, and the soft, wet repetitive sounds of sex.

Like a Chihuahua mounting a Great Dane, the diminutive Mr. Nott was rooted balls deep in the hulking form of MacNair, pounding his way to glory, calling out joyously, "Take it, bitch! You know you want it! You know you love it! WHO…IS…YOUR…DADDY…NOW?!"

MacNair's baritone rumbled in response.

"MERLIN! YEAH! YEAH! RIDE ME, LITTLE MAN! TAP THAT ASS LIKE THE WHORE I AM! YES! YES! GOD YES!"

Goyle and Crabbe made scarcely a sound between them, having slipped into position for a perfect Sixty-Nine, and only periodically gasped for breath when they emerged from one another's crotches for air.

Most terrifying of all, Voldemort had Lucius Malfoy's legs high in the air, and was pounding the 'sweet spot' with all his pale and withered might, red-eyed and grinning like a feral cat in heat. Lucius moaned loudly and wantonly, finally able to offer himself up to his beloved Lord in the one way he'd never dreamed of. The Dark Lord hissed his satisfaction, even though the exertion strained the limits of his constitution.

"Yessss! Yessss! Lu-ciussss…my dearessst, darkessst, blond fantasssy! Yessss!!!"

The orgasm they shared was sublime and magnificent, the most stunning of either of their lives, and just as they paused in the aftermath, Lucius, dizzy from pleasure, drifted to slumber, and Voldemort collapsed on top of him, a look of shock and horror on his face…as his heart gave out from sheer exhaustion, fluttering its last faint beats before he breathed his last, and expired.

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Harry and Draco collapsed sometime shortly after Harry's third, and Draco's fourth, orgasm. Even in the filthy straw that lined the floor of the dungeon, they took comfort in one another's arms. Sense returned to them a little later, and they rose, scratched, bleeding, sore and sated, and whispered words of apology and adoration to one another. They gathered their clothes and dressed as best they could in the rags they'd made of them, then prepared for the hard fight ahead of them. The building was full of Death Eaters, and their escape to safety was still very much in doubt. They opened the door of their cell cautiously, and stepped into the hall with the greatest of care, only to be greeted by the debauched spectacle that awaited them.

A few hasty Accio's later, they had their wands, as well as the wands of the fallen Death Eaters…and Voldemort's own wand, to boot. The entire pack of them had collapsed, apparently after engaging in acts that would have made lonesome sailors blush. Harry stepped forward, and gingerly placed his fingers on the Dark Lord's neck. There was no pulse. Beneath the naked and cooling body of Tom Riddle, Lucius Malfoy slept as peacefully as a baby, disheveled and smiling from ear to ear. The rest were scarcely in better shape, utterly exhausted, and completely incapable of movement. Harry stepped back in complete shock.

"He's dead. Voldemort is dead. I don't understand it? I didn't even kill him! What about the 'power the Dark Lord knew not'? How could he die like this?"

Draco looked over Harry's shoulder, promising himself that the sight he'd
just endured could be dealt with through chocolate, several Obliviations, and a pricey therapist, then shrugged and gave Harry the best answer he could think of.

"Huh. Who knew? Apparently, 'the power the Dark Lord knew not', was your ability to turn me on and get me off at will. Prophecies are the sneakiest things that way. What a shame."

Draco sighed deeply, while Harry's brow furrowed with confusion.

"What do you mean? What's a shame?"

Draco smirked evilly.

"We should have brought Creevey's camera. I'd love to save a copy of this tableau for Daddy…preferably a copy of this on the front page of the Daily Prophet. I'm just sure he'd want this moment immortalized. Do you think they can pull this memory out with a Pensieve and store it?"

They started walking for the exit, chatting as they went, periodically stepping over naked, fallen, no-longer-sexually-repressed Death Eaters along the way.

"I think they could. I just can't wait to get home and tell everyone the war is over."

Draco purred relief.

"Merlin! Home! I want chocolates, Grr!, lavender bubble-bath, and a glass of wine. I can't wait to get the stink of this place off of me! Ugh! This has been such an awful day…well…except for the sex."

"Oh my God, Draco…you are such a drama queen! A little dungeon dirt and a few scratches during sex, and you're treating it like the end of the world. Do you ever stop griping-"

"Harry…I love you…shut up."

Harry sighed deep and slow as they made their way out into the sunlight.

"I love you too. Let's go home, love."

The darkness of Voldemort's lair was behind them, the crisp sunlight of winter was all about them, and with a soft kiss, and a muted pop, they Apparated home for the holidays at last.


FIN!


JOYOUS YULE TIDINGS TO ALL! Samayel