Furry Magic

Title: Furry Magic, chapter 95

Disclaimer: I do not own HP...


Graeme entered the room cautiously, Kaithas right behind him, and even more cautious. Responding to physical confrontation when one of the potential combatants was the pride's powerful and intimidating second....well Kaithas did not wish to be in the way.

Graeme the primary enforcer of the king's punishment and chastisement for the pride, had no such compunction. He entered with authority, wary and watchful as was prudent, but not afraid. He was cautious simply not to give away any advantage.

What he saw gave him pause. What he smelled, made him stop in his tracks. A sound behind him diverted his attention. Ron, who he had been with when Fred appeared, was with the young red head, in the room doorway, peering in curiously and with concern.

"Stay back." Graeme growled, putting a threat in his tone. No way he wanted to risk adding Ron to this volatile mix. The kitten still smelled of unrelieved desire, they had been interrupted before Graeme had finished taking care of that.

Amrys didn't even bother to do more than snarl at his lifelong friend as he continued to stalk Severus, who was looking conflicted. Graeme could scent the human's arousal, and the odors of guilt and agitation. But outwardly the wizard appeared remarkably calm. Inwardly Graeme guessed that Severus was battling the urge to give in and have wild, passionate, driven sex. But something was wrong. Graeme sniffed, again.

Lucius called over to him. "Graeme. I need for you to divert and control Amrys. Severus and I need to consult to discover how to deal with this problem. Kaithas, I am glad to have you here. Are you unaffected?"

"I believe that I am unaffected, my king." Was the answer from the seer. "I can sense the problem very clearly, but it does not seem directed at myself."

"Very good." Lucius said, his tone flat, and with little expression. His hold on the Chosen was careful and tender, but offered not ease or comfort to the groaning youth. Harry let out a pitiful cry, and the king cradled his sweating face in one hand.

It was then that Graeme saw that Harry was in no better condition than Amrys. Writhing and desperate, he exuded an unimaginably sexy mix of scents, that immediately had Graeme fully aroused. He took an involuntary step towards the youth, who was held securely in Lucius' embrace, before he caught himself and stopped, jaw clenched. Kaithas had put a hand on his arm, and Graeme had been entirely unaware of the touch. He battled to regain his composure. Kaithas did not remove his hand. And Graeme knew why. He was trying to lend his own equilibrium to Graeme's, to strengthen him. Graeme nodded his thanks, then gently shook off the hand.

Amrys' chuffed at the air with the new scent. He growled, spinning around to face the approaching male challenger. He had to fight to maintain his rights to the luscious prize he had been stalking. He had to win in order to have the time to hold that one under him, and ride him to completion, to claim him as his own. He snarled, fangs sliding out, long and sharp. Graeme circled, relaxed, assessing the advantages and disadvantages he was becoming aware of.

Snape inched away, towards Lucius when Amrys turned his back. He had been thinking on his feet, as much as one could while driven mad by unrelieved lust, and the fear of giving in, or being caught and ravaged. He didn't much like the conclusions he'd come to.

Someone fairly powerful had cast a spell. The target of choice had been either Amrys, or Harry. He didn't know for sure which, or who had done it. He had one very strong suspicion. He had worked for years with the grandfatherly Dumbledore. Long enough to sense there were hidden depths to the man. Depths he had chosen not to investigate. Perhaps that choice had been the wrong one. In light of this happening now, it appeared he should have taken pains to find out just what had seemed wrong before. His failure to do so had allowed this situation to escalate. Of course, He might be wrong, maybe this was caused by some one else, it just seemed unlikely, not impossible.

But, if this was the Headmaster's doing...then the old man was slipping, had miscalculated badly, and was becoming too blatant, too obvious. This could not be explained away by whoever had started it. It would not lend itself to forgiveness, and a slap on the back as a forgettable blunder. This was an attack. There was no way to call it an accident. It was malicious. Intentionally harmful.

Whoever had started this, knew too little about lycanthrope culture to be one of them. Lucius would not forgive this act. He would not turn away, he would regard it as a direct challenge to himself, a threat to his people, and react accordingly. The Chosen was not a target that any wise lycanthrope or well informed wizard would chose. Better the king himself. The Chosen was cherished and protected, and elevated on a pedestal. The Chosen was the beloved, and the gift of kings. There were very formal, ritualized ways the lycanthropes permitted disagreements to be settled when the Chosen was involved. Attacks on him, well..... Some idiot had crossed the line today. And the response might prove fatal when the wizard, or witch, was found out.

Severus had managed to return to Lucius' side, moving with slow deliberation. Amrys and Graeme were still circling each other, Kaithas nearby. Nervous but steadfast, eyes glued to the other two. He would not be much help if there was trouble, but he would try.

The doorway darkened again, and Severus looked up to see a were-leopard he did not know, huge, at least the size of Mantheer and Yaji. A guardian, he diagnosed, one of the watchers, the were-leopard entered, eyes on his king after his alert sweep of the room. He was aware of the potential fight, a sense of relaxed readiness pervaded his stance. A man used to physical violence, and confrontation.

Lucius leaned forward. "You will not allow them to kill each other. I want Amrys subdued, but gently, he is not at fault in this." He told the dark man. Kaithas fell back a bit, relieved. The man, Jonas, was good, skilled, and very strong. While Yaji was Mantheer's first choice of back up, Jonas was a close second. He was also not an alpha, nor an alpha contender. He would obey. Not even the scent of sex, or the spell, would divert him from obeying his king's word and order. Lucius' will superseded his own.

As Jonas maneuvered himself into place, Graeme leapt. He flew through the air, lightning quick, fluid muscles reaching, wrapping and containing his friend and fellow ruler of the pride. Amrys growled in abject fury, lashing out, claws whistling through the air at the tips of widely splayed fingers.

There had been no warning, he was suddenly in the there, he was on top of Amrys. Arms locking around him, Jonas moved in, even faster, from further away, he was there in the same moment. Amrys almost manged to thrust the Tres from him, but Graeme refused to loosen his hold, or to be budged. And then Jonas' unbreakable grip was around the blond leopard, holding firm, but not harming him. Amrys snarled, wordlessly, enraged at the restriction, his eyes rolling madly.

His gaze frantically searched for Severus, and found him, fastening onto the human with laser-like precision, his face becoming a mask of want. Severus was very careful not to touch Lucius in any way, or to move too close and give the impression he was choosing the king over the second. He sensed that would be enough to drive Amrys into a frenzy, and agitate the captured second into a more dangerous state. Amrys was nearly foaming at the mouth as it was.

Severus kept his voice low and soothing, he tried to convey his most calming thoughts. He told Lucius of his darkest fear with his answer to the king's unspoken question...what now? How could this be fixed? The fear and jealousy caught him by surprise. It was a weakness. One he had not anticipated having. He, the one who unemotionally had expressed the need to accept the way and culture of the lycanthropes, was having trouble accepting what he believed was going to be required in order to affect a cure. He felt foolish for his mind's vehement objections. He was not feeling enlightened at the moment. He was feeling possessive.

"Lucius. I am afraid I can think of only one thing to do. Spells of this nature will typically run their course when the subject partakes of the intended activity." The wizard said, voice mild. His heart twisted as the words left him.

"You mean he should be allowed to win free? And have sex?" Lucius asked, his own displeasure transmitted equally clearly. Harry let out a cry of pure pain, and the king nuzzled him, unashamedly stroking the groin of the younger man. Long loving strokes, sexual, but also a healing touch, not one to titillate. Harry fought to push up into that hand, hips flexing wildly.

"Yes, sexual congress is the only way to remove the symptoms and disperse the spell." The sight of the suffering, both of Harry and of Amrys, made Severus fight to suppress the murderous rage that was growing within himself. The boy had suffered enough in his life. He had a loving family around him now, he did not deserve this. And the man. Severus caught his breath. The man, beautiful, noble, and honorable. The last person that should be the subject of this kind of assault. Severus ground his teeth together, jaw clenched impotently.

"You will not survive him in his current state." Lucius remarked with utter conviction, only telling Snape what he'd already concluded himself. He looked down at the sobbing kitten he held in his arms. If Amrys needed sex, then clearly Harry did as well. Lucius displayed his teeth, his fury growing. Whoever had done this would pay. He stood walking toward the furs piled on his bed. A curse on the one who had done this. He bore Harry up onto the bed. This was a breach of all that was right.

"Bring my second to me." Lucius said in a voice like ground glass, a voice that cut, and might draw blood from an incautious person who came too near. Graeme and Jonas hesitated, Graeme's eyes flying up to see the expression on the king's face, then obeyed. The king was going to gift Amrys with his Chosen. Was being forced to do it. The room fell eerily silent but for the grunts of Amrys, and Harry's whimpering.

Lucius lowered his head, his lips touching the fevered skin of his Chosen's cheek. Amrys was carried closer.

"Harry, your ease is near. I have found you what you need." Lucius' voice was the most loving and adoring that Severus had heard from any man to his beloved. It choked his own voice in his throat. He looked at Amrys, he wanted to be the one that soothed his lover's needs. Not standing here, seeing the unnatural hunger, and lust, and having to stand aside, and not answer it, not ease it.

Lucius stripped the remants of Harry's clothing from the thrashing body. The king's face was a rictus of suffering. His pale eyes glacial.

Graeme fought to control his own reaction. This was a thing, the coming together of second and Chosen, that should be done in joy. Not forced. His heart bled.

ne'ichan
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