Furry Magic

Title: Furry Magic, chapter 7

Disclaimer: Not mine, all those great characters, they belong to JK Rowling.


It was a shame, Kaithas thought, that Draco was not going to be following in his father\'s footsteps. When the boy had been born, looking so much like his father, Kaithas had thought for sure that the boy would be turned once he came of age.

It had not happened. Draco had inherited his mother\'s resistance to lycanthropy. He could not become one of them. The pride had mourned at Lucius\' disappointment, grieving with their king.

The discovery had devastated Lucius. And had been the first step in alienating him from his human wife. Narcissa. She who had lied, when she said she had no reason she could not wed the lycanthrope king. She had known of her resistance. But she wanted him, the beautiful, so masculine king. Wanted him to love and desire her, wanted to wield his power with him, to do it she\'d lied. So the son, Draco, he who should have been the heir was not. Lucius had never forgiven her the deception. Kaithas shook his head sadly.

Now the sudden gathering. All the pride called together. With a new member for the first time in a year. Potter. His turning had not been announced, no celebration held, because it had not been planned.

The new kitten sat at Lucius\' feet. He had been brought here into the arena naked by the rest of the young-lings. No one gave him clothes, the king had not said he should have them. So the young-lings did not provide him any. His state of undress caused a ripple of sharpened interest to move throughout the vast room. The heat-scent wafted through the air.

Lucius gave no sign of noticing the boy was the only nude pride member. He\'d tugged and the youth went down, his watcher, Blaise, at his back, cradling the thin boy in front of himself. Both young-lings sat on the furs piled to one side of the flat topped stone Lucius sat upon. Potter instantly pulled a part of the fur up over his lap.

Both the young-lings heads rested on the king\'s sacred body. The Potter boy\'s on his knee. Blaise\'s on Lucius\' strong left thigh. Absently, Lucius stroked one dark head, then the other one. Waiting for the arena to be filled. Using them like touchstones to calm himself. Center himself. His rage was a tang in the air, causing the assembled to shift in place nervously.

Amrys and Graeme, Lucius\' Tres, entered the arena together. Two men with the same long, loping stride. Amrys\' short dark blond colored hair standing out against Graeme\'s long, wavy brown-red locks. The thick, loosed hair of the Tres brushed the backs of his knees, kept away from his fine featured face by twists of hair at his temples held in silver clasps.

Graeme\'s skin was a dozen shades paler than Amrys\', the milky white of the northern reaches and the peoples who\'d evolved there for millennia, adapting to the rays of the weaker sun. His blue eyes were dark blue, cobalt, like precious jewels. Amrys, while blond, had a darker skin, a skin that tanned easily, to a true golden brown.

Amrys lifted his head as he came closer, leaving Graeme to stand with some others. Amrys moved to Kaithas\' side. His eyes traveling unerringly to the tableau at the king\'s rock. He scented the air, nostrils flaring. More and more heads were going up, smelling the semen of the king on the air. Zeroing in, and finding who wore the telling scent. The sulky, new, green eyed kitten.

Graeme finished his conversation, and went to stand next to Lucius\' right side, avoiding the young-lings. He went to one knee in greeting, bending his neck to his king. Lucius sank his hands into all that hair, pulling Graeme in closer, rubbing their faces together, then freeing the other were-leopard. Graeme stood, moving around to sit at Lucius\' back, on the throne\'s edge. Silence fell in fits and starts. Attention focused on the throne.

Lucius waited for the eyes of his pride to fasten onto his face. He bared his fangs. His growl filled the arena. As one the pride went to the floor. Dropping to hands and knees, pressing their faces to the ground, abasing themselves before their angry king. Lucius looked out over them. His next growl had them sitting back on their heels, watchful. Every eye trained on him.

Lucius then transferred his gaze to the boy sitting next to him, stiff under the gaze of so many. He patted his thigh. The boy stared at him. Then frowned stubbornly. Shaking his head. The Potter boy\'s face was mulish.

\"No. I won\'t. I\'m naked. You can\'t make me.\" He hissed defiantly through gritted teeth, hands clutching at the fur that was all that covered him. Kaithas raised his brows in amazement. Foolish but spirited. Soon to be corrected.

Lucius\' brows shot up and the look he gave the kitten was incredulous. The little one had not learned that challenging him was an unwise endeavor. He would learn soon.

Lucius reached down, knotting one hand in the hair at the back of the kitten\'s head, and locked the other one around the frail throat. He hauled the slim form up as if it were weightless. Drawing the bowed, struggling body across his lap, like a pieta, displaying all the writhing young one\'s charms.

Silken skin, so fresh, the marks of the assault all but gone, the pink blush tantalizing. The scent of the king, marking the youth, so tempting, making hundreds of mouths water with need. Hundreds of throats whine.

Both of the young one\'s hands were at the king\'s wrist, clawing at the hold. Lucius held him firm, biceps bulging, more with anger than with effort. He spoke, tossing his long hair back from his face. His eyes hot.

\"Look on this one.\" He said low. And the all the prides\' eyes looked down at the kitten. Saw his fighting, drawing them to the struggle, to the desire to fight, and subdue the little one. To earn his submission.

\"He is new, brand new. Turned by someone who did not seek my leave.\" Lucius\' incandescent gaze went from face to face. His rage was growing, filling the arena with the quivering anticipation of violence.

\"Who among you turned him against my wishes? If it was one of you, one of my pride, I will discover you. Come forward now, and I will kill you quickly. If I must seek you out, the death will not be and easy one.\" He waited. His thumb moved over the kitten\'s cheek, caressingly.

There was no answering call. He looked around again. Measured each one he saw in silence. All of them met his gaze. None flinched. They knew he did not punish without reason, nor did he punish the obedient, or those innocent of crimes. They obeyed him, followed him, knelt to him. But did not fear him.

\"Very well. We will find out who has done this. Each of you will hunt this dead one until he is caught. There will be no exceptions. All the attacks have happened on the grounds of Hogwarts. But no matter where you are you will remain vigilant. Report everything to the Des or the Tres.\" Lucius shook Harry hard, still across his thighs.

\"This one, by rights I should kill. He was made without sanction. He is an insult to me. I will accept no other insults. This one,\" he lifted Harry straight up in the air by the grip on his throat and hair, feet dangling, eyes wide with unconcealed terror.

\"This one is mine. No one shall touch him without my leave. No one shall permit another to touch him without my leave. You will all defend him. He is the belonging of your king.\" Lucius growled lowering the choking boy to his lap. Harry sagged, gasping to fill his starved lungs with fresh oxygen. Lucius petted him soothingly. A sound carried in from outside the arena.

Kaithas turned his head away from the display on the rock throne. There was a ripple of movement at the entrance to the arena. Amrys was moving that way, fast. The bitch was here, in the arena, uninvited. Worse, she had brought one of the young-lings with her, the one that had been turned last year at the request of his brothers. The bitch had collared him.

He followed her with the graceful stride of the young athlete he was. His hips swaying in unconscious seduction, clad in tight bronze shorts, his mouth was full, pink, succulent. He honestly had no awareness of his allure. He held his head chin high, the tall collar forcing that, as she stopped in the entry way, knowing all eyes were moving to her. His cheeks were lit fiery red with humiliation. She had commandeered him, and he was too young to defy her.

She smiled at them all, showing her human teeth. Even the king paused to look in her direction, as did the boy draped down over his lap, head hanging so that he looked in the direction of the bitch, head upside down, face flushed with blood, chest heaving. The great emerald eyes blinked once, twice in disbelief, then he croaked out one word.

\"Ron?\"

And the collared young-ling saw him. Turned a darker red.

\"Harry!\" He cried in horror. \"What are you doing here?\"


ne\'ichan
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