Harry Potter, Chaos Queen

 

Chapter Three

 

 

 

 

Severus paced the length of the fireplace, his deep coal eyes seeming to shimmer in the firelight with a thoughtful intensity Harry couldn't imagine anyone else possessing. Finally, the pale, lank haired man turned to Draco. Hardening his gaze, and his resolve, he met the pale blonde's hopeful grey eyes. "You may meet Lokii, on the condition that I am always present. And..." He continued, cutting Malfoy off as he opened his mouth to retort or protest. "And, you'll meet her at rehearsals, not during her concert. It will be more private, and something we can watch over. Our goal is to put her at ease, is it not?" Though he phrased it as a question, in truth it was a statement. 

 

 

Draco appeared to consider his options, propping a hand to his chin, a long finger toying with his lip and tracing down to his stubborn, angular chin. Finally, after much deliberation, the younger Slytherin nodded. "This is the only way you'll help me, so I'll take it. Though, I'll need continued meetings to make myself at home in her heart." An idea appeared to strike him, as his face brightened. "It also wouldn't hurt to get a photo with Lokii... for proof that I am indeed pursuing her. After all, I wouldn't want the Dark Lord to question me, nor enter my Occlumency shields." 

 

 

He seemed defensive towards the last bit, though he was smirking slightly, and Harry fought the urge to snort in incredulity. Sure, that's what you need the photo for, Malfoy. It's not to brag to your friends that you met Lokii privately, nor to further your claim with me, is it? Harry noted his own sarcasm, and found it odd that Draco would be proving he'd met Lokii--him-- to Harry, also him. 

 

 

His mind flashed to what Severus had said, focusing on the details. Alright, so Draco couldn't be completely alone with him. He'd have a sort of chaperone. That'd be good, he trusted Sev to keep him safe. However, meeting the Slytherin on Friday, rather than Saturday set the green eyed boy on edge. It was a day sooner, the day after tomorrow. And that meant he'd only have a day to prepare himself. Could he still lose his woes in his songs if he was worried about his meeting with Draco? Harry hoped so.

 

 

While Harry mused, Severus had agreed, albeit reluctantly, and shooed the younger male to bed. When the portrait door had swung shut and Harry had waited a few extra moments for safety, he threw off his Cloak. Stalking grumpily to the couch, Harry flopped onto it and laid his head back, feeling a sense of deja vous at having done this earlier. 

 

 

"I'm sorry, Harry," Severus' silky voice spoke softly now, hesitantly. The slow drawl of his voice was calming and Harry blinked blurry eyes at the dark man, feeling a wave of tiredness hit him. It smothered him like a thick blanket, drowning him in the heat of the fire, and the comfort of the other male. " 'M tired," Harry murmured, his voice a soft slur. "I don' want to go back to the tower. An' I don' want to think about Malfoy." Harry's eyes half-lidded and he wondered if he was somehow sinking into the couch, pressing deeper into the cushions, or if it was his imagination. "Please, Sev?" 

 

 

Severus watched the beautiful boy, wondering how he had garnered such an innocent's affection. He sighed indulgently at the boy, nodding gravely. "I suppose it would  be a waste to have you fall asleep on a moving staircase and break your neck when you slid off..." The Potion's Master tried to keep the mocking scorn in his voice, but ended up sounding fond. 

 

 

"There you go," Harry mumbled, rolling onto his side on the couch, eyes already closing. 

 

 

Severus huffed, shaking his head at the Boy-who-lived and his antics. "You're lucky, brat. But you'd best tell the other two thirds of the Golden Trio something, I'll not have you spoiling my reputation." 

 

 

The boy giggled, sounding drunk on sleep, and hummed in agreement. Severus stood and tucked the boy in on his couch. Stretching him out and covering him with a few throw blankets in order to ward off the chill of the dungeon. With a flick of his wand, he lowered the fire in the hearth to embers, and cast a quick stasis to keep it burning all night. The light in the dark room dimmed without the heavy fire, and having ensured Harry would be comfortable, Severus leaned over with an irresistible urge. 

 

 

"Sweet dreams, Harry. I promise I'll protect you, even if it means my death," The ebony haired man whispered, his hair falling across his face, casting it in shadow. Harry murmured something unintelligible, but otherwise didn't stir and Severus smiled to himself. He would protect Harry, that he was certain. Very few truly saw the best of him, and yet this strange boy had. True, even now that they were on good terms, they snarked and quarreled. But that was simply in his nature, he couldn't shed his sarcastic personality. Nor did Harry expect him to. The boy was an enigma, he often reminded himself. Severus shook his head and standing, swept from the room with his dark robes billowing behind him. No one was awake to note his spectacular exit, but it was habit at this point to do so. 

 

 

Tucked into bed, the hangings drawn, Severus dreamt of green eyes, and a beautiful woman with long black hair singing with sadness and love. 

 

 

 

 

 

******** Time lapse, Friday morning********

 

 

 

 

 

Harry had made it back to Gryffindor tower the morning before, having picked up his schoolbag for class and making an excuse to his supposed friends. He'd claimed he'd been out beneath his Cloak, and fallen asleep in an unused classroom. When Hermione pushed about his emotional wellbeing, and why he hadn't come to them, he told her he wasn't upset. He was simply not used to sleeping in soft beds again. The reminder of his home life with the Dursleys had shut her up quickly enough, and she'd apologized. 

 

 

Now, Friday afternoon, Harry trudged his way through boring classes. He still had yet to learn anything new in any of them, and was, at this point, nearly sleeping through them all. To keep up his pathetic, average student facade was harder than ever this year. 

 

 

He found himself gazing longingly at the school doors as he ate his lunch, aching to jump up from his seat in the Great Hall, skip lunch and head straight to Severus' office and floo to Hogsmeade for his concert rehearsal. However, he had to avoid suspicion. When he'd finally reached the end of his patience, his leg bouncing in anxiety and annoyance beneath the table, he made his excuses. Severus would not leave yet, he would soon motion Draco to join him at the Staff table, and then escort him to his rooms to floo there after Harry. Harry, as Lokii, would arrive first to avoid any confusion with the blonde. 

 

 

Harry nearly bolted through the castle, cutting through secret passage ways and shortcuts, arriving panting at Severus' portrait with a stitch in his side. Gasping the password, he stumbled in, brushing his bangs from his eyes with a careless hand. Trying to even his breathing, and holding his side against the stitch, Harry steadied himself. Lowering his shields on his magic, and dropping his many glamours, Harry adopted a more realistic personality than that of Harry Potter, Savoir of the Wizarding World. At least, not the persona they had come to expect. 

 

 

With a deft hand, he released the enchanted tie on his hair, letting the pretty mess of black curls fall to his waist freely. He removed his glasses next, setting them on the side table for now. A quick tap of his wand against his temple and the glamour to turn his trademark Avada Kedavra green eyes into a sea blue green, albeit just as intense in color, was in place. Without the normal glamours on his features, his face appeared more feminine. Softer, with his naturally high cheekbones, and bowed soft lips. An expert wave of his wand from scalp down, had his hair fading in shades till it captured a golden honey hue-- Lokii was a blonde, though a different shade from Malfoy. 

 

 

Finally, he pointed his wand at his throat, first releasing the charm on his voice that held it lower and more masculine. The hormones had done their job, and he'd never dropped to the deep tones of most males. In fact, he was quite confident in his ability to hit high notes that most females couldn't hope to match in his songs. Another tap, and he adopted an Irish accent, overlapping and mixing slightly with his natural Surrey tones. Lokii, it turned out, was from Ireland, a pureblood homeschooled due to her inheritance of song-weaving, or magic cast through song. It was a good cover story, and secretly he thought it was another tie to his Hogwarts Head of House, McGonagall's thick Scottish broque made his heart ache. It was a sort of tribute to her, since she'd been someone he wished he could be closer to. However, she was simply to close to Dumbles. 

 

 

Discarding his clothes and wand with a flick of his hand, Harry dressed the part of a classy, teenage magical diva. A corset to set off his small breasts, and a choker hid his adam's apple. While he had originally charmed it away, he found the glamour on his slight adam's apple messed with the magic to alter his accent, and so had discarded it. 

 

 

Finished, Harry, as Lokii, stepped up to Severus' fireplace, took a handful of powder, and stated clearly, "Hog's Head Inn, Hogsmeade." 

 

 

With a whoosh, Harry appeared at the smaller in, stepping through and giving a polite nod to the Barman and Owner, Aberforth. Although he was related to Dumbledore, Harry trusted the man. Especially knowing he hated the old coot as much as Harry. This way, no one could trace Harry's floo, rather than follow the connection to Hogwarts as one would when appearing in the Three Broomsticks right off the hop. Aberforth nodded back at Harry/Lokii, and went back to wiping down tables. 

 

 

Harry made his way through Hogsmeade, and upon meeting up with the band, set up quickly. He'd just finished practicing a rather boisterous and racy song, and was moving onto the next, a traditional Irish Ballad, when he noted the presence of his 'Manager' and the youngest Malfoy. Ignoring them was hard, but Lokii continued as if she hadn't felt them. 

 

 

Dipping her head, Lokii let the opening strings of the violin mix with the dulcimer, and wash her away. Opening her eyes as the cue in the music dipped, a wash of magic gathered as she began. 

 

 

 

"I wish I were on yonder hill, 

Tis' there I'd sit and cry my fill. 

And every tear would turn a mill. 

I wish I sat on my true love's knee, 

Many a fond story told to me. 

He told me things that ne'er shall be. 

 

 

Siúil, Siúil, Siúil a Rún. 

Siúil go sochair agus 

Siúil go ciúin,

 Siúil go doras agus éalaigh liom.

 

 

His hair was black, 

His eye was blue. 

His arm was strong, 

His word was true. 

I wish in my heart I was with you ~"*

 

 

 

Harry felt the magic in the song sweep those around him into it's grasp as he continued the Gaelic chorus. Tugging at their hearts, allowing them to feel the fresh ache of loss, heartbreak, and despair. The song was about love lost to a military man, and many would weep over this song's beauty without the magic. With it, the magic, fresh and green as the hills from where it came, beat it's way into one's breast and pulled at the magical core. Enchanting images of the scene he sang of, whisking them away to the shores of Ireland, where a broken maiden sang her grief. 

 

 

A magical songstress, a songweaver, was said to have been a human version of a Siren, but more powerful. Their lure was magic, and not pheromones, their cast nearly as powerful as the Imperius. This was likely why Voldemort desired him.

 

 

 

"I'll dye my petticoat, 

I'll dye it red.

And 'round the world I'll beg my bread.

Till I find my love, 

Alive or dead..."*

 

 

 

 

Lokii finished the final repeats of the chorus, the foreign tongue slipping from her painted full lips with ease. Finally, when the song closed to a finish, she noted the two men applauding her. 

 

 

 

Her manager, Severus Snape, was smiling with a sadness in his gaze, while Draco Malfoy was applauding loudly with tears in his eyes. They moved forward, and Severus motioned to the band to take a break. Harry pouted inwardly, having barely sang two songs before his release was interrupted. His magic, like him, longed to free itself. It built up within him, like a wild animal, caged and pacing within him, eager to be free of his leash on it. 

 

 

 

However, Lokii had no such annoyance, and smiled prettily at both men. They made their way to her side, and Lokii silently flicked a counter to her 'Sonorus' with her fingertip, not noticing Malfoy's shocked gaze as he realized what she had done without the use of a wand. 

 

 

 

"Ahh, Lokii darling, wonderful as always. May I introduce to you my godson, Draco Malfoy. He is a rather huge fan of yours, and couldn't wait to meet you," Severus introduced when he reached the diva's side. His eyes scanned hers, but Lokii was unruffled, veiled in her acting persona and he couldn't read Harry's emotions. 

 

 

 

"You were... stunningly beautiful, Miss Lokii," Draco whispered, his voice near reverence, and his grey eyes shone with honesty. 

 

 

 

Inwardly, Harry raised an eyebrow. Draco was sincere, and the Gryffindor couldn't help but find that odd. However, Lokii blushed sweetly, and ducked her head. The modesty was not faked in the least. "Oh really, you're too much, Mr. Malfoy. And please, don't call me 'Miss Lokii', it makes me feel old. It's a pleasure to meet you," Her voice came out soft, nearly a whisper of husky feminine notes, a trill of Irish accent rolling and blurring the lines in her words, especially upon the vowels. 

 

 

 

Draco chuckled, straightening at her amusement and genteel nature. She had a dimple in her left cheek when she smiled, he noted, just the one. Something entirely unique to the beauty the stood before him. He was pleased to note that she was a full half a foot shorter than him, even with her booted heels. Never had Draco been so happy that he'd had that growth spurt the summers before, save for when he towered over his nemesis, Harry Bloody Potter. However, this was more of a masculine pride, and not based off another attempt at beating his rival. 

 

 

 

The blonde mentally shook out images of the sulking, green eyed Wonder Boy, focusing his attention on the sweet beauty before him. "Then please, just Draco. Mr. Malfoy reminds me a bit of my father, actually. And I'd like us to be friends," The younger Slytherin admitted. 

 

 

 

"I'll leave you two be, while I check in with the band. I'll be just over there if you need me, Lokii," Severus drawled quietly, nodding at the two teens. Harry nearly panicked and asked him to stay, but that would reveal too much. Instead, he smiled nervously, and delved straight into his Lokii form. 

 

 

 

Draco, suddenly perceptive, noted the diva's nervous attitude. "Do I frighten you? I can assure you I'm not some stalker fan. I merely hoped we could get to know each other." His head tilted to one side, and his hair fell across one eye, making him appear more boyish and charming. 

 

 

 

Harry faltered, but Lokii shook her head. "No, I... I supposed I'm just not used to dealing with a lot of people," She admitted in honesty. This was true, Harry hadn't been exposed to many people growing up. And even now, after entering the Wizarding World, he limited his contact with many people. His fame made it hard, but he just managed. 

 

 

 

Draco raised his eyebrows slightly for a moment, before a subtle frown worked it's way onto his forehead. "What do you mean, Lokii?" He asked, trying out her name and the informality. It tasted sweet on his tongue, and he nearly crowed with joy. This mission was hard, but he truly liked the girl, and hoped to know more about her. "I'm sure you see people all the time." 

 

 

 

Lokii shook her head, looking down for a moment and fiddling with the ends of her lace petticoats. "Actually, no. I grew up alone in Ireland, save for my Uncle and a few houseelves. My Uncle was not very kind, and didn't generally like to spend time with me. A witch he could understand, but he felt threatened by my songstress abilities. You could say that the less he saw of me, the better. Aside for paying the tutors for my schooling, and the rare holiday dinner, we never spoke much." 

 

 

 

Ironically, there was seeds of truth in Lokii's story, so Harry could honestly say it without a twitch to give away his lies. He had an Uncle, who didn't understand his power. And aside from providing the barest of bare necessities for Harry, he tried to pretend he didn't exist. In fact, for the past two years the whole lot of the Dursleys had been avoiding Harry as though he were a ghost in a room down the hall. If you didn't acknowledge it, it wasn't there. 

 

 

 

Draco nodded, brow growing more troubled as the lovely girl admitted her harsh upbringing. "I can relate," He admitted. "Most of my life was tutors and duty. I only saw my father at mealtimes, or during the odd weekly visits to his study to instruct me on how to be a Malfoy." For some reason, unbeknownst to Harry, Malfoy sneered at his own last name. "How we should act, and how we were better than others. It was... is, difficult, trying to make someone happy who always sees flaws in you. Most of how I act is an attempt to please him, but it's not how I want to be. I suppose that comes from my mother, she's a Black after all." Here, a hint of pride crept in. 

 

 

 

Lokii smiled, and Harry was puzzled. In a compromise, Lokii asked, "Then why do you try so hard, knowing he won't ever approve? Wouldn't you be happier, being you? After all, if he's not going to like you either way, it'd likely be easier to be yourself. Besides, people might like the change. You never know." Harry flashed to a memory of Malfoy offering his hand in friendship, first year. If the boy was truly as fake as he claimed, if the sneering snob was not his true self, what would it be like to be friends with him?

 

 

 

Malfoy shrugged his shoulders and sighed. "I'm not sure... but I suppose I could give it a shot. If it fails, I could always say I was hit by a Cheering Charm gone wrong, hm?" A smirk tugged at his lips when Lokii laughed, a tinkling sound like bells. "You know... I didn't expect to be this relaxed around you. I've told you things I never thought I would have. Is that a part of your magic?" 

 

 

Lokii smiled, and Harry thought it was genuine. "No, unless I'm singing or plucking the sounds of spells through the air, I have no way to coerce or beguile people. This is all natural chemistry." Here, she blushed again, biting her bottom lip habitually. "Actually, I'm quite surprised myself. I didn't expect to enjoy our conversation this much."

 

 

 

Draco smiled, then looked confused, his grey eyes fixed on her full lip, caught seductively between her straight white teeth. Whoa, down boy. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Plucking the sounds of spells? What's that?"

 

 

 

Lokii grinned sheepishly. "Ah, I keep forgetting that most Wizards and Witches don't know magic like I do." Here she went on to explain. "When someone casts a spell, I hear notes in the magic. While most see mere colors, I see colors and hear sound. By unraveling the sound, I can repel most magic sent at me, or destroy curses, hexes, and charms. Even wards, although I've never tried unraveling the Unforgiveables, so I'm sure there are limits."

 

 

 

This, was actually a bold-faced lie. After progressing past advanced spells, Harry had Severus (after many protests), cast the Killing Curse at him. It was difficult, and at first, he'd had to dodge it. But he'd found with a little effort he could unravel the spellwork. Crucio and Imperio were just as easy once he'd mastered it, and now Harry felt confident in his abilities. However, Draco did not need to know that, he'd report enough back to the Dark Lord as it was. That thought was like a bucket of cold water, and Harry's warm feelings melted, his ease dissolving quickly. Right, the Dark Lord was Draco's master. Even if he removed his fake mask, he'd still be an enemy. He had to remember that. 

 

 

 

The blonde Slytherin was unaware of Harry's troubling thoughts, and continued on, addressing Lokii. "So, you can cast with song, and unravel magic with song notes only you can hear? Wow, you're truly powerful. And you truthfully don't desire more? To be more than a diva? I'm sure many people would love to have your power on hand, even the Ministry of Magic." 

 

 

 

Ah, there it was. Harry felt cold ice slip into his stomach and gnaw at his gut, but Lokii remained amused and charmed. "The Ministry of magic has actually requested that I help them, but I politely declined with Severus' help. I have no desire to be powerful and important in such a way. Actually, I don't want the fame of being a diva, I just want people to listen to me sing, to feel. But it does pay nicely, I suppose. Not that I've a need for that."

 

 

 

Draco seemed to take a minute to scan her features, right down to her small pixie nose, wondering if the girl was serious. When he was certain, he nodded. "That's unusual, not desiring more with the power you possess. But I suppose if you are as powerful as you claim, you wouldn't need more." 

 

 

 

Their time was running short, and Severus returned to her side. After making a few excuses, and promising to return again, Severus escorted Draco back to the Three Broomstick's floo. Harry returned to his music, sinking into the throb of the magic pulse and relished in finishing rehearsal. Hopefully, it'd be a while before he'd next have to meet Draco Malfoy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

 

* 'Siúil a Rún', traditional Irish song

 

@ Pandagaara : I'm thinking of multiple pairings, though I haven't quite settled on who it'll be. Generally, I write better when I let it flow and don't plan too much ahead. Otherwise, I lose interest. I'm bad, I know.

 

 

@ jujukitty : Thank you kindly, I appreciate comments and reviews. Actually, this is my first real attempt at a fanfic. Normally, I don't bother, and peruse AFF for stories, preferring to read rather than write. 

 

 

 

@ Lady_Laran : He could, true. But I painted him as enjoying the magic of song far too much. Plus, he still trusts Severus to keep him safe. As for why Severus agreed to it, Draco does not know of his duplicity as a spy. So, unable to respond honestly for fear of giving himself away, he simply tries to put himself between the two, in an effort to protect Harry. He ensures his position as a spy this way, and keeps Harry/Lokii out of Voldemort's clutches. At least, that's how I see it.