Twisted Faerie Tales

Author's Note: Many thanks to Laurel and Shannon for beta-reading the story and for all of those who requested it and to Shannon for helping me shape it in my head. I struggled with how it would work for a bit, but her ideas set it loose. As with the faerie tales I've posted so far, this story will be vastly different from any of the originals, but my goal is to merge both the darkness and the light from both.

The Little Mermaid - Part 1

End of the year feasts were never something Harry looked forward to, and this year was no exception. In fact, with the untimely death of his Godfather, the last thing Harry wanted to do was celebrate. The food was always good of course; fragrant roasted meats, buttery vegetables and mouthwatering desserts all hovered along every House table, waiting for the students to dig in. Harry’s plate was rather meager since he didn’t have much of an appetite, Ron’s was heaping as was usual for him –even on a non-feast day- and Hermione’s plate was somewhere in between, full but manageable.

But no, it wasn’t the food that made the end of the year feasts a depressing time for Harry, nor was it the announcing of the House Cup winner that year –Gryffindor again, of course- and it certainly wasn’t the fact that Draco Malfoy was boring a hole into Harry’s skull from across the room, because Harry had barely noticed the boy’s attentions. No, it was the fact that in a couple of days’ time Harry would be back on the Hogwarts Express and back at the Dursley’s, which was so far from where he wanted to be while mourning the death of Sirius.

The banners hung above every table in red and gold to symbolize the winner of the Cup, though he was happy to have defeated Umbridge and Voldemort yet again, his heart wasn’t at ease as he felt it should have been after such trials were long behind him.

He had been so close to being free from the Dursleys. With Sirius’ name cleared, Harry could have gone to stay with his godfather instead of remaining cooped up on Privet Drive, but now that option was gone. He missed Sirius so much it often became overwhelming, and not just because of who the man was -not that Sirius Black wasn’t an amazing fellow- but because of what his godfather symbolized. Freedom. The kind he only felt when flying through the air on his broom.

It was this freedom that he was thinking about when he took his first sip of pumpkin juice, a juice that tasted more bitter than usual. Harry grimaced as he swallowed it down and almost immediately wished he had spat it out. It only took that one sip to begin the transformation, one sip to send his legs tingling and his heart racing, one sip to change the rest of his life.

“Alright, Harry?” Ron called across the table with a mouthful of food.

“There’s something wrong with my legs,” Harry exclaimed, his voice filled with panic.

Hermione ducked her head under the table and when she came back up she looked a little pale. “Harry, your legs are turning green and scaly.”

Ron’s eyes went wide and he dropped the chip he’d been about to shove into his mouth so that he could pop his head under the table as well. “Blimey, Harry!” he gasped, unreassuringly.

Harry could feel what was happening to him, he didn’t need to see it. Under the table his legs were knitting together to form a green fish tail. Slowly but surely, Harry was becoming a merman.

“Headmaster!” Hermione shrieked, trying to get Dumbledore’s attention at the vast staff table. The man looked up at her and rushed right over, gasping as he saw Harry’s new fishy state. Other students began to stare and gather around, the Slytherin’s all found Harry’s state more than just a tad humorous, while everyone else seemed either intrigued or disgusted by the transformation. Only the Headmaster and his two best friends seemed concerned about this new development.

Dumbledore summoned Snape to his side and silently issued the man an order. Begrudgingly, Snape scooped Harry up in his arms and together, followed closely by Hermione and Ron; they whisked Harry away toward the Prefects bathroom.

Snape quickly deposited the Gryffindor into the warm tub and stepped away as if being so close to Harry for such a long period of time was vastly distasteful and might have left him with some kind of contagious illness. He looked as though he was debating cleaning his hands off on his robe when Dumbledore cleared his throat, giving him a sharp look before redirecting his attention to the ailing boy.

“Harry, how did this happen?” Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes not holding their usual twinkle.

“I’m not certain, but I think someone slipped something into my pumpkin juice,” Harry complained. “It tasted bitter.”

“Mr. Weasley, go and fetch Mr. Potter’s goblet this instant and bring it here straightaway,” Dumbledore instructed and Ron took off running.

“Is there anything else you can recall, anything out of the ordinary that might have happened just before you became… aquatic?” Dumbledore asked.

“Nothing, Sir. I hadn’t even eaten yet,” Harry admitted.

Dumbledore turned away and began consulting with Snape in hushed tones while Hermione came over to the edge of the enormous tub to further inspect her friend. “Can I see it?” she asked and Harry wiggled slightly before flopping the flippery appendage up onto the tile beside where she sat.

Her fingers grazed over the scaled flesh and her mouth hung open in awe. “Harry, it’s beautiful.” And it was. It was deep emerald in color, just like his eyes, and it shined a brilliant rainbow of colors depending on how the light reflected off of it. The tail seemed wispy and faded from that deep green into a topaz blue at the tips. The flesh itself was muscled and toned, just like the rest of Harry’s body, and the green scales began to taper off just below his belly button, giving way to Harry’s taut abdomen.

Hermione had always been a bit intimidated by Harry’s looks; in fact, she’d had a crush on him since the moment they met on the train. He seemed wild to her, so unlike what he had been used to after being brought up in a house full of dentists. She knew early on that there was something different about Harry, something that would keep him from ever returning her affection, although she hadn’t figured out what it was until recently.

“Why don’t you grow a tail then if you think it’s so beautiful,” Harry muttered darkly. He didn’t like this, not one bit. He was a freak all over again, only this was so much worse than a wimpy scar on his forehead.

“I already had one in Second Year, remember?” she quipped. “Only my cat tail was nothing compared to this, Harry. This is magnificent.”

“I suppose that means I’ll be quite the love magnet now, hm?” he asked bitterly, the sarcasm in his voice unmistakable. “Only there will be no way to follow through,” he added, gesturing to his lack of sexual organs.

“Oh dear!” Hermione gasped, her eyes going wide at the implications. “Sorry, Harry. I didn’t think.”

Harry rolled his eyes and slinked back into the water, pulling the wet robes and shirt from his chest and lobbing them into the corner where they landed with a loud splat. He floated there in the warm bath water, his hair soaked, his glasses off, and his body the image of perfection, and Hermione knew what she’d be dreaming about for many months to come.

Ron was out of breath when he arrived back with two familiar shoes and some torn trousers. “The tables had been cleared, Sir, but I did grab these,” he said, trying to sound more helpful than he knew he was being.

The Potions Master sneered down at him and gave Dumbledore a knowing look. “Someone in this school is responsible for this, but they couldn’t have acted alone. Even I can’t think of a single potion or incantation that would do this to a boy.”

“Curious,” Dumbledore muttered vaguely. “Very curious. Well, Harry. I think you’ll have to stay here tonight. We’ll lock up so none of the students can get to you, but we can’t have your tail drying out. It might cause irreparable damage to your legs if we do find a cure.”

“If?” Harry squeaked, unwilling to accept that he might remain like this for the rest of his life. How would he fight Voldemort like this, how would he finish school like this, how would be become an Auror like this, and worse, how would he ever lose his virginity without a cock?

“When, My Boy. Of course, I meant when,” he muttered, unconvincingly and shuffled out with Snape following closely behind.

Harry sighed and sank beneath the water’s surface, thinking that perhaps drowning might just be the easier solution, but even that method of escape eluded him. A sharp pain laced through his neck and Harry grabbed it, pressing his fingers into the tender flesh and quickly discovering he now had gills, so he could breathe perfectly underwater.

With a roll of his eyes, he swam back up and lifted his torso out of the bath, noticing that the gills receded and allowed him to breathe oxygen normally. “This is ridiculous!” he shouted, pounding his fists into the water, causing the liquid to splash up on his friends. “Sorry,” he muttered, but Ron and Hermione both remained unfazed.

“I’m sure Snape will find something tomorrow,” Hermione assured.

“I’m sure if it were up to Snape he’d let me stay like this forever,” Harry countered.

“Well, lucky for you then, it’s up to Dumbledore, not Snape,” she bit back. She knew Harry was having a time of it, but she didn’t think he needed to be so rude to the people who were trying to help him,

“I guess,” Harry muttered darkly. “You two should go. I’m sure everyone is waiting to ambush you in the common room.”

“They’ll only want to know how you are. We can stay here with you if you’d prefer?” she asked hopefully.

“Nah,” Harry sighed. “I’d be rubbish company tonight. Maybe you can check on me before you get on the train tomorrow?”

“Of course, Harry,” Ron and Hermione replied in unison, as if leaving without seeing how Harry was doing was ever an option.

“Night then,” Harry called, waving to his friends as they disappeared through the door, locking it behind them.

“What am I going to do now?” Harry sighed to himself before drifting to the bottom of the bath where he fell into a fitful sleep.

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“Well, he can’t just sit in a bathtub all day,” Severus growled.

“I’m well aware of that, Severus,” Dumbledore shot back, Harry had never seen the elderly man so angry, not even in the throws of battle with Voldemort a few weeks back.

They had been arguing back and forth for hours over what to do with him. An entire week had passed and they were no closer to an answer now than they had been after the feast. The students were long gone, Hermione and Ron bid Harry a fond farewell and told him to write when he was back to normal and they would come and break him out of the Dursley’s.

Now, Dumbledore had to leave to spend some time at the Ministry and Snape didn’t want to be charged with looking after Harry in his current form. “If someone on their side hears of this, you know it’s just a matter of time before Death Eaters are knocking down our doors.”

“I’m aware, Severus,” Dumbledore intoned. “In fact, I’m also aware that this was probably his doing to start with. I can’t leave him here alone, the Black Lake is far too dangerous, and you haven’t found a cure yet. What is it you suggest I do?” he asked, sounding exasperated.

“I suggest we take him to Atlantis.”

The word hung in the air as Harry blinked, trying to make sure he heard the Potions Master correctly. Dumbledore was obviously not surprised at the suggestion as he sighed dramatically and said, “I suppose that’s the only option left to us, though I hate for it to come to that.”

“It will only be while I work on an antidote, and the Merpeople of Atlantis are by far the most civilized of the Mercities we have access to,” Snape reasoned.

“Atlantis really exists?” Harry asked, still unbelieving. The two men turned to him as if they’d forgotten he was there.

“Of course it does. Muggles would have found it by now if they knew where to look, it’s just off the coast of Fiji,” Snape snapped as if everyone should know that.

“Of course, Fiji,” Harry replied sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

“So, how will I get to Atlantis?” Harry asked, fearing he might be forced to swim all the way to Fiji; he didn’t even know the way.

“We can Apparate you,” Dumbledore said. “They have a dry receiving chamber.”

This was all just too much to absorb; first, turning into a merman, then the possibility he just might stay that way, add in a trip to Atlantis and Harry was more than just a little overwhelmed. Anything had to be better than sitting in this tub day in and day out, though, so Harry was ready to try anything at this point. “So, when do we leave?”

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The dry receiving chamber in Atlantis was not much more than a ten-by-ten room of thick green glass. Dumbledore had cleared their arrival beforehand and the Merpeople were ready to meet Harry. On one side of the room was what looked to be a hatch that led to an overgrown bubble, and Dumbledore led him over to it, opened the glass door and placed him inside. “This will take you directly to the palace where someone will collect you and show you where you can stay. Severus and I will be working diligently to fix this, Harry. I promise you that.”

Harry nodded, and, unsure of what else to say to the old Headmaster, shut the door behind himself. With a flick of Dumbledore’s wand, the bubble jerked to life and zipped across the ocean floor. It was quite a sight, and Harry was mesmerized by the colorful coral and fish that swam by him. He was paying such close attention to a bright orange angel fish that he didn’t see what appeared to be a sheer drop on the cliff he was navigating until he was right on it.

Harry screamed, but the bubble didn’t drop as he had expected, instead it floated down gently and, when Harry looked below him, he could see a glittering, green city looming in the distance. The bubble seemed to take forever to arrive, but Harry could see that everything was clean and beautiful as he passed through the glistening city toward the palace at the center.

They seemed to have everything; banks, markets, schools –anything one could think of in a city on dry land, Harry could see right there in Atlantis. When the bubble finally skidded to a halt on the palace stairs, a Merman drifted up and placed his hand against it, making the contraption pop like a real bubble. Harry panicked as the water rushed in on him and he struggled to breathe for a moment as his gills reformed, but he soon became used to it and was able to relax.

The Merman was tall and bulky, his skin was dark and Polynesian looking and his eyes were a deep sapphire blue like the ocean that surrounded them. He offered his hand to Harry and he shook it reluctantly, noticing how firm of a hold the man had.

“My name is Faar,” he told Harry in a deep voice, and Harry was pleasantly surprised that he could understand the man. “You, I presume are Harry Potter?”

Harry nodded and smiled, as much as he could underwater. It still felt odd to be a merman, every action seemed to be exaggerated in the water and his body was already feeling the strain of fighting the current. He supposed he’d get used to it, but he really didn’t want to be in this form long enough to do so. “I am.”

“Our King had instructed me to take you to your quarters and introduce you to some of our kind. Dumbledore wasn’t sure how long you’d be staying, so we want you to be comfortable while you’re here,” Faar told him.

His room was a pale aquamarine and everything was made of glass, making the ocean around him seem like a lively wallpaper. Fish swam up to the walls and then away again when Harry approached them, and Harry had a brief moment of thinking that he could get used to this beautiful place. His bed was a pearly white shell, the largest he’d ever seen and it was inlaid with thin membranes that he guessed were supposed to be blankets –that part he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to.

Faar hung back in the doorway while Harry inspected the room. He really didn’t have any luggage to drop off or anything, so he just turned back to his host and thanked him. “The room is lovely, just perfect.” He was nervous because he had no idea what Merpeople customs were and he didn’t want to accidentally offend anyone with his lack of knowledge.

He was brought to a large dining hall where Faar introduced him to a woman with long red hair, a boy slightly younger than him that was apparently her son, and a girl his age who leered at Harry as if he were something edible. The girl distinctly reminded him of Ginny and it gave him the creeps.

“Harry, this is Ariel and her children, Sebastian and Alana,” Faar told him. “If you need anything during your stay here, do not hesitate to ask.”

“I could show you around now if you’d like, Harry?” Alana told him, slinking over to float beside him.

Harry swallowed thickly and shook his head. “Er, I think I’m alright now.”

The girl looked disappointed but nodded. “After dinner then,” she promised.

He didn’t get a chance to respond before she pulled him over to their table and he was staring down at a plate full of some kind of slimy, green substance. “What is it?” he asked, poking it with the fork laid out beside him.

“Kelp,” she told him cheerfully before leaning in and whispering in his ear. “Don’t worry if you don’t like it, it’s only the first course.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and tasted a bite before swallowing it and vowing not to put another bite in his mouth. Beside him Alana chuckled softly. The next course was brought and Harry almost lost the bite of kelp he’d tried. There on a shiny silver platter was a spiked fish like nothing he’d ever seen before. He found the skin quite tough, and when he tried to slice into it, thick black ink oozed out.

“Here, let me help you,” Alana offered, holding her hand over Harry’s and slicing off a different piece of the fish. It was bitter and tasted terrible; it took all Harry’s willpower not to spit it out as well. He was going to starve as a Merman!

“I think,” Harry began, affecting a very tired expression, “that the trip might have worn me out more than I expected. I think I might retire if that’s okay.”

Faar nodded to him, a man of few words and Ariel smiled. “Of course, Harry. We understand how odd this all must be for you. We’ll see you tomorrow then, can you find your way back to your room?”

“I’ll take him!” Alana volunteered before Harry could answer for himself.

They swam along in silence while his thoughts drifted to what he’d be doing if he hadn’t suddenly grown a tail. He supposed this was better than the Dursley’s, though at least on Privet Drive he was able to sneak food. He glanced over at Alana who was watching him out of the corner of her eye. She really was quite lovely; none of the Merpeople looked anything like the ones in the Black Lake, they looked more like humans with tails, more like him.

“You have an exquisite tail, Harry,” the girl said when they reached his doorway.

“Er, thanks,” he whispered, not sure what else to say. “Your hair is pretty.”

The girl seemed to absorb the comment and blushed sweetly. She leaned in to kiss him on the cheek and he let her, but backed away when she gasped. “Oh dear,” she cried. “Oh dear, I’ve done it again.”

A great sigh escaped her lips and Harry looked at her quizzically. “Done what?”

“I always seem to be attracted to boys who will never like me back. You don’t like girls at all do you? I thought you were just shy, but you’re just like the other one, the one who likes boys,” she sighed.

“What!?” Harry exclaimed. “I do so like girls.”

“That’s what he said as well but when I tried to kiss him it felt off,” she pouted. “Why are all the lovely boys gay?”

“I’m not… I’m not gay,” Harry protested.

“Then kiss me back,” she challenged so Harry did. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed his lips to hers and… nothing.

She slumped in his arms and floated back a bit. “See,” she prompted.

“I’m just tired,” he corrected and she nodded in a placating manner.

“Tomorrow I can take you to shore if you’d like,” she offered. “We can try and find some food that’s more appealing to you.”

“Okay,” he replied, eager for their current uncomfortable conversation to be over.

“Sweet dreams,” she called back to him as she swam down the hall. She seemed to have found something in her words funny because he could hear her giggling as she left.

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Sleep didn’t come easy to Harry that evening because he was starving and everything seemed peculiar. The ocean, as deep down as they were, didn’t really get any lighter or darker and there was an endless stream of activity around his room. Eventually he must have drifted off, because a sharp knock on his door woke him up and he opened it to find Alana waiting for him in the hall.

“Ready to go?” she asked, far too chipper for Harry’s taste.

“I guess,” he replied, stretching and yawning widely. Her eyes were on him the entire time and she sighed like Ron would on the occasions that Harry beat him at chess.

“If only you weren’t gay,” she said and Harry shot her a look that told her to drop the subject.

They left the palace, Harry marveling at the scenery as they swam by, and then up toward a large coral reef where Alana pointed out some of the different fish and strange creatures Harry had never seen before. It was hard to imagine everything being so vibrant and colorful underwater. When he swam in the Black Lake for the tournament, the water was murky and easily lived up to its name; it was not nearly so beautifuas.

“Alana?” Harry asked, trying to catch her attention. She was ahead of him inspecting some clams when he finally reached her. “Can I ask you an odd question?”

“Sure, Harry,” she replied with a smile.

“How do your kind… well, how do you have children?” he asked. The idea was baffling to him, and he couldn’t comprehend it.

He’d never seen anyone laugh so hard in his life. “Are you asking how we have sex?”

“I guess so,” he muttered, blushing furiously.

“I could show you,” she purred seductively, rubbing her tail against his sensuously, “if you weren’t gay,” she added before swimming away in a blur of bubbles.

“I’m not gay!” Harry shouted after her and struggled to catch up.

When he did she was still snickering to herself, and he frowned at her unhappily. She seemed unbothered by his mood though, and playfully flicked her tail at him before answering his original question. “If we go on land our tails disappear, but only for an hour or so. We have to return to the water quickly after that because without water we’d die.”

“Oh,” Harry replied. “That won’t work with me.” He knew because he was perfectly dry when he got the tail.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Pretty sure,” he replied with a faint blush.

“Well, I suppose it’s good that you’re not attracted to me anyhow,” she mused, a delicate smirk on her face. “Because that would be quite tragic for both of us.”

Harry rolled his eyes and she took off again, leading the way to shore. As they swam, Harry got used to his new tail and he was mostly able to keep up with Alana, who was actually quite swift. The water grew shallower and brighter and soon Harry was able to easily touch the surface and the bottom at once. He peeked up out of the water to see a vast expanse of pearly white beach and a long dock that had a large hut at the end practically floating on the water.

Alana swam over to it and Harry followed until they reached a set of stairs that led from the ocean up to a porch attached to the thatched bungalow.

“Lover,” she called and Harry looked at her skeptically. “Don’t worry,” she whispered to Harry, “this is the boy I told you about last night, the one who likes boys.”

Harry groaned and tried to slink away, but Alana held him still. Eventually the door to the opened and a young man came out and kneeled on the deck. “Alana,” he greeted and then he got a look at Harry who was staring up at the boy in abject horror. “Potter?”

“Malfoy,” Harry hissed. He couldn’t believe his luck. Even during the summer on the other side of the globe Harry couldn’t escape his school rival. “What are you doing here?”

“Me?” Draco replied haughtily. “This is my summer home.”

“This shack?” Harry interrupted and Malfoy sneered back at him.

“No, that large manor on the hill,” he responded, pointing to a resplendent manor home that could house the entire Hogwarts student body comfortably. “Now, what are you doing here?”

“Dumbledore sent me to Atlantis,” Harry replied sullenly. He couldn’t believe he was stuck making small talk with Malfoy.

“Atlantis huh? Is it cool?” he asked, and the question seemed so casual it was like it was coming from Ron and not his worst enemy.

“Yeah, it is,” Harry replied lightly. “Grow a tail and we can take you.”

Draco laughed, and then he gaped slightly, apparently unaware of what Harry had been talking about. “You… that’s right. You have a tail. I thought for sure Severus would have fixed you by now.”

“Me too,” Harry sighed, the loss of his legs distracted him from his animosity toward the blond.

“Lover,” Alana piped in after watching their exchange. Harry watched Draco blush at the title and Harry thought for sure Alana was mad if she thought he was gay. The boy was obviously aroused. “Aren’t you good at potions?”

“Yes,” he answered hesitantly.

“Well, I think you should help Harry find a cure,” she replied, obviously proud of herself for thinking of it.

“But… isn’t Severus working on it?” he asked, directing his question to Harry.

“Wouldn’t it go faster if there were two people working to fix him?” Alana said, ignoring what Harry had to say on the matter.

A slow smirk curled his lips and he climbed down to the bottom stair so that he bare legs were in the water and his head was nearly level with Harry’s. It was odd seeing Malfoy in shorts, Harry decided. He didn’t think he ever had before, and there was certainly nothing bad about his legs, or his chest for that matter, which was only covered by a thin gray tank top.

“Do you want my help, Potter?” he asked, looking quite mischievous.

“I want my legs back,” he replied noncommittally.

“And what payment would I receive for rendering my services to you?” Draco pressed.

“He’ll have sex with you,” Alana chimed in and both boys looked at her with wide eyes, Harry’s angry and Draco’s appalled.

“Alana,” Harry hissed. “I know you like to tease me but that’s just not funny.”

“I accept,” Draco blurted, surprising them all. “If I find you your cure, I get as my own for a single night.”

“No. No way. I didn’t agree to that,” Harry protested, his cheeks a deep crimson.

“Oh come on, Harry,” Alana replied. “What’s the big deal? You’re gay, Draco’s gay, if I can’t have sex with either of you then you should at least have sex with each other,” she huffed.

“It seems your pimp has spoken, Potter,” Draco replied with a handsome smile and a deep chuckle.

“Why do you even care?” Harry asked Alana, who just shrugged and smiled.

Draco stood up and sloshed back up the stairs to his hut. “I’ll get started tonight after Father goes to sleep. Meet me back here just after sunset, okay?”

Harry stared openmouthed at the boy he hated with every fiber of his being. There was no way he was going to let that boy have something else to tease him about in school, no fucking way. He just wouldn’t come back here again and he would have to hope that Snape found a cure very, very soon.

“He’ll be here, even if I have to drag him here myself,” Alana promised and then began to pull Harry away before he could call her a liar.

“See you tonight, Potter,” Draco called, a wicked smirk on his face.

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“I’m not going,” Harry told Alana for the hundredth time that night. He was hungry and exhausted and he didn’t even want to think about a nude Draco coming after him. A shiver rolled down his spine and he looked at his new friend with deep disgust. “How could you do that to me? I hate Draco Malfoy.”

“Could have fooled me,” she teased. “I saw the way your eyes took him in like he was a glorious sunset.”

“I did no such thing,” Harry bit back scathingly.

“Oh hush, Harry. Draco’s a god among men, that hair, that skin, those eyes,” she sighed. “If I didn’t know better I would say he was half Siren.”

“No, he’s just one half arse, and the other half hole,” Harry muttered.

“And which half do you like? The arse, or the hole?” Alana taunted.

“I walked right into that one, didn’t I?” Harry sighed. He wondered if all the fish women were so promiscuous or if he’d been sidled with the only one.

“You swam into it actually,” she replied, her grin unwavering.

“You’re the funniest mermaid ever,” Harry told her sarcastically, “but I’m still not going to meet Malfoy.”

“You should at least meet him so he can bring you food,” she reasoned and his growling stomach agreed with her point.

“Fine, I’ll go, but only for the food and to tell him not to bother with an antidote. I’m in no mood to let Draco Malfoy humiliate me any further then I’m already going to have to deal with,” Harry replied firmly.

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Harry was waiting by the deck while Alana searched a pool nearby for something, what he had no idea. She tried to explain it to him but he didn’t understand. When Draco came waltzing down the dock, Harry’s breath caught. He wore a pair of black linen shorts and nothing else and the moon made his skin look phosphorescent. Their gazes met and Draco smiled softly for a moment before it slipped into his trademark smirk.

“So, I see you’re keen to go through with our little deal?” he asked, hopping into the water beside where Harry floated.

“No, I came to tell you that you needn’t bother, and to see if you maybe had any real food up here,” Harry added, hoping he didn’t sound like he was begging.

“I see,” Draco replied with a look on his face that Harry couldn’t quite discern. “I have some fruit up in the hut. I’ll be right back.”

Draco disappeared and returned into the water with an apple, which he handed over to Harry, who devoured it as if it was the most delicious thing in the world. “Thanks,” he said when he’d finished. “I guess I’ll head back now. If Snape gets me all fixed up in time, I’ll see you in school.”

“Do you know how to get back?” Draco asked.

“No, but Alana does,” Harry replied, looking puzzled; he didn’t understand why Draco would ask him that.

“I’m sure she does, but she’s left you here,” Draco told him, a faint smile on his lips.

“No, she’s just over-” he began, but he turned around to see her far away in the distance and waving at him before she dove under the water and disappeared. “I can’t believe her,” Harry sighed. “She’s got to be the most meddlesome mermaid ever.”

“She’s nice,” Draco corrected. “I’m sure she’s just having a bit of fun. She’ll come and fetch you in the morning.”

“And until then?” Harry asked, wondering what he was going to do. He didn’t trust his sense of direction in the water to get him all the way back to Atlantis.

“I’ll keep you company,” Draco offered, “if you want,” he quickly amended.

“Er, yeah, okay,” Harry replied. For some reason he couldn’t stop blushing in front of the blond. “It would be nice to hang out with someone familiar.”

There was an awkward moment of silence between them and then Draco cleared his throat. “So, I know that Alana was only teasing earlier about you and I,” Draco told him. “She’s mischievous that one. I wouldn’t mind helping you with that antidote though. I like a good challenge; besides I did some research and I think I can cure you. All the ingredients are right around here too.”

“Really?” Harry asked, suddenly excited, but that excitement quickly gave way to doubt. This helpful boy was nothing like the Malfoy he knew. “What would you want in return?” he asked skeptically.

“Amnesty for my family,” Draco replied. “We’re defecting and we already have to worry about Voldemort’s wrath. We don’t want to worry about Dumbledore and the Ministry as well.”

“What could I do?” Harry asked, confused.

“Come on, Harry. You have more pull with both of them than anyone I know. The Minister himself would get down on his knees and suck your cock if you asked him to.”

Harry grimaced at the crude imagery and tried to banish the new image that popped into his mind of the very same situation, only with a platinum blond head bobbing up and down in his lap. “I would do what I could of course, but I couldn’t promise anything,” Harry replied at last. “Although, just the report that you saved me might do you a world of good.”

“True,” Draco mused, the gears in his mind moving behind those smoldering eyes. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We still have to find the ingredients.”

“Do you really know what this is?” Harry asked, and his tone held more hope than he wanted to admit to the blond he’d just formed a reluctant alliance with.

“I think so, we really can’t be sure until we try it though,” he admitted. “So, I’ve made this list of what we’ll need,” he mentioned, handing it to Harry, who scanned it at once.

“Crown of thorns starfish, komodo dragon venom, green sea turtle eggs; how hard is this stuff going to be to find?” Harry asked. He’d only read the first three of nearly twenty ingredients on the list.

“I already have a few of them in my personal ingredients store, but the rest are going to be easier for you to find than for me,” he mentioned, “since most of them are underwater.”

“How will I know what to get?” Harry wondered allowed. The list was both impressive and intimidating. Harry had never even heard of some of these items, let alone seen a picture of them to be able to recognize any of them if he had. They seemed very exotic.

“Some of them are simple, the kelp for instance, any kelp will do so long as it’s fresh, but some of the specific ones I can help you with. I’ll take my father’s boat out and I’ll be able to join you in the water for a bit sometimes,” he informed Harry, who smiled despite himself.

“Will you have a tail?” Harry asked cheekily.

“I think I’ll leave that particular trademark to you, Potter,” he remarked with a faint smirk. “Although, I must say, it rather suits you.” Harry rolled his eyes and snapped his tail up to splash Draco in the face. As the blond sputtered and wiped the saltwater from his eyes, Harry snickered. “Oh, Potter, my mouth was open. Now my tongue is all salty,” the blond complained and Harry resisted the urge to ask the boy to prove it.

“So, are these ingredients anything we can look for tonight?” Harry asked, briskly changing the subject.

“I doubt it,” Draco replied, his lips pursed in thought. “It’s too dark.”

“So, then what do we do until Alana?” Harry asked, a deep yawn emerging through his protesting lips.

“It looks like you’re tired. Should I leave you? You can sleep here near the dock, nothing should bother you there,” Draco informed him.

Harry shook his head and adamantly denied he was at all sleepy. He motioned toward the beach, and Draco followed down the boardwalk, his pale feet sinking into soft white sand as he walked toward where Harry had swam up on shore. Just his tail was in the water, while his tanned torso was emerged, Harry had his back in the sand and his eyes staring up into the starry night.

It was so beautiful out there on an island in the middle of nowhere. Most of the lights in the nearby manor were extinguished so there was nothing to compete with the white brilliance of the stars up above, except for maybe the creamy white of Draco’s skin, or the golden luminescence of his hair.

“So, why is your family defecting?” Harry asked, trying to clear the lusty thoughts from his mind with more realistic conversation. Even if something were to happen between them out here on this island, it would be more like a dream. Once they returned to Hogwarts all would go back to normal, of this he was certain. Draco would go on in his Slytherin ways and continue to remind Harry why he asked to be placed in a different house.

“I think the Dark Lord’s madness would be something obvious to escape,” Draco muttered.

“I would have thought it an obvious reason not to join forces with him in the first place,” Harry countered, but Draco only shrugged.

“I’ve only heard stories of the man up until recently. Father used to preach about him as if he were some great messiah, at least until the Dark Lord returned. Now Father’s just afraid of him like everyone else. Whether the Dark Lord is different now than he was during his first reign, or whether my father is, I cannot say for sure,” Draco replied. Harry marveled at how eloquent the blond always seemed to be. It was something to aspire to, but Harry figured it came with high society, pureblood breeding, which he didn’t have.

Not for the first time, Harry wondered what his life would have been like had Voldemort never existed and his parents were still alive. His parents had been wealthy, enough to exceed, or at least match, the Malfoy fortune. Would his life have been made up of proper etiquette and ballroom dancing lessons? Would he and Draco have been friends growing up? Would Harry have allowed himself to be sorted into Slytherin after all?

When Harry’s attention drifted back to the blond, he noticed Draco was staring at his tail. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” Harry asked, flapping it in and out of the tide coming around his lower body.

“It’s different to see on you,” Draco agreed, “but it’s not a bad thing. It’s actually quite lovely.”

Harry felt a blush creep up his cheeks and he noted carefully that he hadn’t had the same reaction when Hermione had told him the same thing. “Lovely?” Harry scoffed, trying to cover his moment of pause. “I’m half fish. I don’t think that qualifies as lovely.”

“You’re a Merman,” Draco corrected. “It’s different.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Harry muttered, glancing at his tail and how it looked darker, almost black, in the moonlight. Only the faint rainbow of colors reflected off of it now like an oil slick. They sat in silence for a while before falling into more pleasant conversation as Harry carefully steered away from the fact that he was different.

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

Delores Umbridge was a foul creature, perhaps even more so than Voldemort himself, because at least the Dark Lord was clear on his stances and didn’t portray an exterior of sacrine sweetness while having a mind filled with bile.

The Centaurs realized this fact at once, and acted accordingly. No one ever saw Delores Umbridge again because the Centaurs took care of her the day Hermione led her blubbering form into the Forbidden Forest.

Unfortunately, they hadn’t done as thorough a job as they thought.

Deep in the black depths of the ocean she still survived, a mere shell of the woman she’d been because of the curse the Centaurs used against her. It was meant to make her wither in her own guilt, however, what the wise beasts of the wood hadn’t counted on was that Umbridge didn’t feel nearly as guilty over her deeds as she should –as a normal person would.

She did, of course, feel forlorn that her plans to dominate Hogwarts and do her Minister proud had been spoiled, but she regretted none of the actions she’d taken against the spoiled brats who were rallying behind Dumbledore. Because of this, the curse transformed her body, turning her into a tentacled creature or the sea that no creature would voluntarily look upon, but it did not destroy her as it was meant to.

Deep in her oceanic hidey-hole, Umbridge plotted her revenge against the one she saw as the cause for all her strife, the one whose lies had the Minister assign her to Hogwarts, the one who had consistently balked authority and rules. The one who brought her into the mess she was in now –Harry Potter.

It hadn’t taken much to charm the minds of dull children like Crabbe and Goyle into poisoning Potter’s pumpkin juice at the feast, and now, all she had to do was wait. If left uncured of his seemingly harmless affliction when school began again, Harry Potter would die and she would finally have her revenge.

Author's Note: So, there you have it, Part 1. Part 2 to follow soon.