Furry Magic

Title: Furry Magic, chapter 100.

Disclaimer: HP isn't mine.

Graeme stroked the soft, dark fur of the kitten. He wanted to punish the kitten, here and now, he wanted to give him a good bat to the head, knock some sense into him. But, Blaise lay unresisting, anything but defiant, his dark brown eyes locked onto Graeme's deep blue ones, submitting completely. And Graeme could not smack him like this, not now. Not even for putting himself at risk and scaring all of them. He nuzzled his face deep into Blaise's ruff and held him close. He was safe. Naughty, disobedient, but safe. For now that was enough. Later, well they'd see about later.

Peach squirmed in Snape's grip, obviously still upset by what was going on in front of him between Graeme and Blaise. Why was Blaise, energetic, athletic, strong, just laying there, not fighting back, or defending himself? Was he hurt, had they hurt him, done something to him that Peach had missed? He wanted, needed, to find out. He tried to get free. Snape tightened his grip.

"Steady, Mr. Alexander. If you plan on knowing Blaise better you should see this. This is part of what he is, beyond being a student at Hogwarts, beyond being a student of wizardry and witchcraft. He is a lycanthrope, and this is how they do things." Snape's warm voice flowed over the boy's skin, soothing and calming. He patted Peach's stiff shoulder.

Harry sat up, shook himself, and flashed to human shape. Peach let out a squeak. "Potter! What are you doing here?" Seeming truly upset to find a Gryffindor in the enclave of the Slytherins.

"I am a were-leopard." Harry said. "Blaise is one of my pride." He came closer. His human form more graceful now than Peach recalled from the last time he'd seen Potter, the way he moved was less uncertain, his gangly form gone, now he was fluid, supple, compelling.

"But, you are a Gryffindor!" Peach burst out. As if that meant Harry could not be here, now, and a lycanthrope, too. As if it were a betrayal.

"That does not stop us belonging to the same pride," Harry told him. "Don't worry, Alexander. This is normal. I've gone through it myself. And I am fine." Peach looked less than convinced.

"Converse while we walk." Snape said, crisply, herding the two youths out into the hall after the regal cat that was Lucius Malfoy. "I don't like to leave the spy-glass unattended for too long. It is time to get back to the Quidditch rooms and see what we can discover. You may accompany us, Mr. Alexander, if I can have your word not to interfere. Interference may prove a serious problem for us all. Perhaps a deadly one."

"Yes, sir." Peach, not about to be left behind, nodded his agreement, resisting the childish urge to cross his fingers behind his back. Then he went with the unlikely group, rushing to keep up with them. His eyes never leaving the back of the subdued were-leopard walking with Graeme's fingers knotted in his fur. Blaise. Oh, Blaise.

Blaise was beautiful like this, Peach thought. Shining coat, muscles rippling under it. The way he moved, like flowing power, Peach wanted to reach out and wrap his arms around his friend, burrow into the warm, silken fur. Be close. He fought the blush that rose unbidden to his face. Damn! He was always so obvious! They had never talked about this. About being friends...and someday, more than friends, Peach hoped. Ghod, he hoped so.

^^^^^^^^^

The sphere lay exactly where they left it, in the middle of the floor of the changing room, covered by a starched, white handkerchief. Snape strode into the room, Harry right behind him. The other cats following, and Peach still held firmly against Snape's side, secured against any youthful impulses or heroics. Inside the room Severus let go of the boy, and Amrys came to stand near the youthful wizard. Peach looked askance at the large, gold furred leopard, prepared for anything from the great beast. He was holding onto his wand so tightly it was in serious danger of snapping in two. But the massive cat made no hostile moves, just watched him with deceptively peaceful, lazy, gold-brown eyes.

"Mr. Potter, with me please." Snape said, briskly, approaching the spy-glass. "A containment spell, first, I think." Harry left Lucius' side, and stepped forward. The room suddenly crackled with spine-tingling force, a rush of light and sound. Peach sucked in an astonished breath.

Harry pulled out his wand and flicked it in a perfect, iridescent green circle. The light settled over the sphere and kerchief without a ripple, Snape's wand guiding the strong barrier that Harry's vast power had created. It wavered and wove, and grew smaller and smaller, squeezing, choking down, until it coated the sphere, no space between the spell and the object, tightly, impossibly contained. The kerchief burst into flame as the ball hopped up into the air, struggling as if it were alive, skittering wildly, seeking freedom. Freedom impossible to find with the spell trapping it. Who ever cast the spy-glass originally, had not been as strong as the boy-who-lived.

Snape felt a smile, a cruelly satisfied one, spread across his face. "We have you, you bastard." He muttered. It would take time, yes, but whoever had been the master of the glass was as good as caught. With time and effort, he would be revealed. And Snape would make him pay.

^^^^^^^^^

Poppy Pomfrey jumped nearly a foot in the air and three feet backwards when Professor Dumbledore turned a bright, glowing green. She had been changing the sheets, no matter how odious the man was, she couldn't leave him in soiled, damp sheets! When all of a sudden he was green. Less than an instant from normal to shimmering, unnatural, vibrant, neon green. PFFOOOOFFF! A sulfurous odor filled the air. She clamped a hand over her nose and mouth as the rotten egg smell filled the small infirmary. Yeccch.

She pressed her second hand to her chest. More magic. More mystery. Her clever, sharp eyes narrowed. Perhaps...someone....an accomplice, was trying to help the Headmaster escape! Her lips compressed into a firm disapproving line. That was not going to be allowed! Albus Dumbledore was not going to escape, and be permitted to spy, rape and prey on children again! Not if Madame Poppy Pomfrey had anything to say about it.

She spun on the heel of her half boot, and headed for her fireplace. A quick call to St. Mungos was in order. Let his helper try to get him out of there! That place was spelled and charmed and cursed with every kind of security known. And it was too late for anyone to heal him by now. He wasn't ever going to be the man he once was.

Poppy knew just who to ask for advice. She allowed herself a smile as she dialed out for her good friend, Bertha Grimwold. The Auror would know what to do. Bertha was rarely at a loss. Her first concern would be for her son though, so to expedite things, Poppy sent for a house elf to find the child.

"Zinny! I need you to go to Slytherin house and fetch young Hansie here." Madame Pomfrey told the skinny creature who colored a darker pink at the pleasure of doing something for his very kind Mistress. He scurried off. And, satified, Poppy made her call.

^^^^^^^^^

The vibrating sphere rose into the air, the were-leopards backed off, ears flattened to their large skulls, wary of the thing. Snape guided the deadly orb with deft flicks of his wand. It floated out of the door, and they trailed after it. Now they would find out who was responsible. And extract an appropriate penalty.

Peach, seeing how everyone's attention was on the green ball, took a chance and sidled up to Blaise's side. Hesitantly he let a finger touch, just barely, the so, so soft fur. Oooohhhh. It was so wonderfully soft, so thick, plush. Blaise turned to look at him, sensing the delicate contact. Peach's eyes were rapt, shining, as the large young feline looked at him. Peach could hardly breathe, his lips parted, tongue flicking out to nervously lick them. His hand rose again, unbidden to tremble over the exquisite fur, Blaise waited, letting him.

Peach let his whole palm settle into the brown/black fur, sinking in. Blaise let out a quiet purrrrr. And Peach thought he might have fainted, if there had not been a sudden, loud yell, he might have done so out of sheer astonishment and joy. He whirled just in time to see Professor Snape flying through the air, coat flapping, after the brilliant green orb. Harry Potter was clinging grimly to one of the Professor's legs, dragged along as if they were both weightless, several feet off of the ground.

The were-leopards acted instantly, springing after the two men who were whisked along at a breakneck pace. Blaise made an urgent noise, and butted up to Peach, literally scooping him up, and onto the broad back. Peach yipped nervously, but clung tightly with hands, and legs, and even teeth as he found he had a mouthfull of fur, wishing he had more fingers on his feet instead of toes, so he could hold on even tighter, as Blaise took off after the rapidly disappearing group.

The muscles flexed and extended fluidly under him, Peach was astounded at the raw power and absolute *perfection* of the cat running under him. Blaise, an exceptional human athlete, was something far, far more in his feline form. He was pure artistry, beauty, strength, liquid agility. Every move was sure, and exact. Yet, he was also being careful of the passenger he was carrying, Peach sensed that clearly, that he was in no danger of falling or being hurt.

They flashed around a corner, Blaise's haunches bunching for a leap forward, and Peach gasped as they flew down the long, straight hallway, wind whistling through his own hair. He buried his face in the dark fur under his cheek, sensing more than seeing the walls zipping past.

Then Blaise was stopping, slowly, cautiously, so as not to abruptly unseat his passenger. There was a shriek of surprise, and Peach glanced up, heart racing. They were at Poppy Pomfrey's little hospital wing. The other leopards were standing about, catching their breath, sides moving in and out, after the frantic sprint. Madame Pomfrey was standing nearby, hand to her mouth for a startled instant, a bottle of Smell-B-Gone air freshener in her hand, then she rushed forward to bend over the two men tangled up on the floor. Peach clapped a hand over his mouth and nose, it smelled just awful in here!

Harry and Professor Snape were sprawled across the floor at the foot of one of the beds, Harry's fingers pinching the tip of his nose, making a disgusted face. In the bed Headmaster Dumbledore was a fantastic shade of green and hovering above him was the small, accusing green orb. It toook Peach a minute to figure out why that was so significant. Then he gasped in horror, bile rising in his throat.

The smell was coming from the man. Professor Dumbledore was the one who had been peeping. Peach felt his genitals shrink up in an effort to hide inside his body. A low, ominous growling had begun to fill the room as the were-leopards, coming to the same conclusion, inched towards the bed.

A shout split the air, deep and ressonant, cutting through all the movement with the sharp precision of a knife blade. Peach felt Blaise go to the floor in an instinctual reaction, spilling him to the wooden surface, and crouching over him protectively. Frantically, Peach clawed at the fur blocking his view until he was able to see....

A tiny woman, not more than five feet tall, probably and inch or two less, shorter even than himself. Behind her were three massive men, wands in hand, arms crossed, brows beetled threateningly, as they scowled at everyone and everything fiercely. It was the tiny woman who roared.

"Don't touch that man! The scoundrel is mine!" Peach blinked rapidly. The voice, grating like stone rubbing against stone, could not possibly be coming from such a dimminutive creature. Then an earsplitting screech came from the door way, and Peach again scrambled to get a look. Blaise hunching down even lower, covering even more of him.

"Momsy!" Cried out the small blond boy in the doorway. Hansie rushed to his mother, grabbing her and hugging her, towering over her, even at twelve years old.

"MMMPPPH!" She said into his shoulder. Then as she managed to rear back, feet kicking in the air as her son hefted her off the ground. "Put Momsy down, Hans. I have some business to attend to." Once her feet were back on the ground, she stalked over to the bed, and the wide eyed Dumbledore laying on his back, trapped in the containment spell. Her bared teeth, tiny in comparison to the huge fangs of the lycanthropes in the room, still made everyone in the area take a giant step backwards.

"Albus Dumbledore." She shouted, all around her the curtains shivered, and the bedsteads bounced over the flooring. "You are being taken into custody and will be transported to St. Mungos immediately. You are being detained on the charges of sexual abuse and exploitation of the children in your care."

On the bed Dumbledore gaped, then spluttered, then frowned, then shivered. No words came out of his mouth. The large, menacing Aurors stepped forward and grabbed the man, bed and all, and hefted him onto their shoulders. Then vanished in a puff of purple smoke.

There was a hiss of disappointment in the room coming from multiple throats as the thwarted lycanthropes glowered at the plume of rapidly disappearing mist.

ne'ichan
faestion1@yahoo.com