FicWad

/Demon Spawn/
by Draeconin


See chapter one for disclaimer and details.

Chapter Three

Early on August 31st, Remus Lupin dropped by to take Harry to King's Cross Station to catch the Hogwarts Express. Harry could have used the Floo system to go directly to the school, but it had been decided that it would cause less speculation and catch less attention if he followed the same routine as he'd done every year.

There were a few changes, however. For one thing, Harry's wardrobe had changed drastically. He'd spent a full week doing little more than going from shop to shop in Diagon Alley, and then some of the better Muggle clothiers, acquiring a wardrobe that fit both his tastes and his body. He always had a guard with him - one of the Order - whom he turned to for advice on matters of current wizard styles, but only used that information to augment what he himself thought looked good on him. The result was a very sophisticated, yet daring, wardrobe.

He had never let on, but being the worst dressed student at Hogwarts had been quite humiliating. Ron and Hermione didn't seem to mind - they didn't even seem to notice - but he'd have liked to have been able to present a more respectable picture when he wasn't wearing school robes. He'd spent a full evening just feeding the hated, oversized cast-offs, one at a time, into the flames of the fire in the family room fireplace. It had been quite cathartic.

For this trip to King's Cross station, and thence to Hogwarts itself, Harry had decided on a forest green satin shirt, black linen trousers, black silk stockings, and black, dragon-hide half-boots. He accessorised with a dark green dragon leather belt, gold chain necklace, and a gold ring with an onyx setting, in the midst of which resided a silver setting in the shape of a fire-breathing dragon. He wore an over-robe of the deepest green which was open at the neck and gently sloped in to meet at the waist, and which was held there with a wide dragon leather belt of the same colour, and which then swept out again. His hair was pulled back into a 'tail' with a leather thong to minimise its movement.

Although he'd wanted to, he'd decided, during his shopping, not to get his ear pierced. An earring would be too good a handle in a fight if anyone got close enough to get hold. He'd settled for ear 'studs' that clung to the skin, but would come off just before there was enough pull to cause real pain. For this outfit he was wearing a gold disc with an emerald chip in the centre.

Why the ensemble? For a couple of reasons. One was that he was tired of looking like someone from the slums, and wanted to dress to impress - shock a few people - and make a few others sit up and pay attention. He was tired of being overlooked or only stared at because of who he was. He wanted to shake the 'Gryffindor Golden Boy' image, and this would give the gawkers a different reason to stare. The other reason was that he was hunting; and he was both the weapon and the bait. Harry had come to the conclusion that if Draco was fated to marry him, then Draco was going to have to work for it. The blond was eye candy enough to cause diabetes, but that sour centre needed to change. So Harry was going to make Malfoy want to change.
"Harry?" Remus inquired, upon seeing Harry's new look.

"Hello, Remus!" Harry greeted the werewolf, enthusiastically. "What do you think of the new clothes?"

"That's not the only change! Albus mentioned it, but... " He shook his head. "I suppose it's not that much of a change. You've filled out, though. Good. You were too thin."

"I've done a lot of reading, too," Harry said, as he gathered his belongings and readied them for transportation. "You wouldn't believe some of the things I can do now. But what about the clothes? You didn't say."
"You look... quite smashing, actually," Remus replied, standing back to get a better look.

"Thank you. Now, how do we get there?"

"We're going to bypass the Muggle part of the station entirely," the werewolf decided. "You'd stand out too much, in that," he said, gesturing to Harry's outfit. "I think we'll just Floo directly to the platform."

Harry shrugged. He was bit embarrassed, actually. He'd forgotten about the process of getting to platform 9 ¾, concentrating solely on meeting his friends and the trip to Hogwarts - and, of course, a certain blond.

Remus walked to the family room, Harry following behind him, created a fire, magically, that would go out as soon as they were gone, and threw a handful of Floo powder into it. He called out "Hogwarts Express Platform nine and three-quarters," then turned to Harry. "Wait five seconds, then come through," he directed.

Harry grimaced, but nodded. Sixteen years old and a demon spawn, and he was still being treated like an ickle firstie.

Remus stepped through the green flames and disappeared, the fire returning to its normal colour as he did. Harry took a small handful of Floo powder, counting off the seconds. At five, he threw the Floo powder in. When it had turned green, he called out "King's Cross Station, platform nine and three-quarters" in his turn, and stepped through, carrying his trunk. For a wonder, he didn't feel the disorientation that usually caused him to stumble as he stepped out. Another benefit of being a demon spawn, he supposed, and thanked the fates for that.

Harry found himself in a rather large room with at least a dozen fireplaces occasionally disgorging pupils or their family members. Remus was standing close by, his hand close to where Harry knew the werewolf kept his wand, but all appeared normal. He and Remus made their way to the door out onto the platform and into the bustling crowd of people, both adults and pupils, who were mostly all passing the time by meeting and greeting old friends and acquaintances until departure time.

The two made their way to the train, weaving through the crowd, then Harry turned to the werewolf, and gave him a light hug. "Thank you, Moony. I hope to see you again, soon."

"Be careful, Harry. And stay out of trouble, eh?"

Harry grinned ruefully. "If ol' Tom will let me," he answered.
At the mention of the Dark Lord's given name, Remus automatically looked at Harry's scar. And stared. "Harry? Your scar's gone?"

Harry kept grinning. "Isn't it smashing? Dumbledore said that minor imperfections, like my sight, get corrected by the transformation. I was so used to it, I didn't notice the scar was gone until two days later!"

"No more visions, then?"

"No; and fewer nightmares, too," Harry replied, a bit more soberly.

"But you're still having nightmares? You really need to talk about them, Harry."

Harry shrugged. "They're getting better."

"You've got to stop blaming yourself, you know."

"I need to go find a good seat, Remus. It was good talking to you, again."

The werewolf's countenance reflected his sorrow as he nodded, accepting Harry's wish not to talk about the subject. "Take care, Harry."

"And you as well, Moony." Harry turned and boarded the train. He hadn't liked putting off the last of his father's friends like that, but he just wasn't ready to discuss such personal matters. He didn't know if he'd ever be.

He hadn't checked more than a dozen compartments before he found his friends. Entering the compartment, he greeted them. "Ron! 'Mione! How was your summer?" he said, with a grin.

Ron, who had been trying to interest Hermione in a little snogging, looked up. He looked at the intruder in irritation. "And who in Hades' realm... are... you?" His voice trailed off weakly as his eyes widened in recognition. "Harry?"

"That's me!" Harry said, grinning as he took a seat opposite the couple. "The summer treated me just /fine/! Of course there are a few barbs on the roses, but what do you think?" As he asked the question, Harry stood back up, and holding his arms out as far as the compartment would allow him, slowly turned until he was facing them again.

Hermione's eyes were wide and slightly glazed as she stared at her best friend. Ron's eyes narrowed and he took out his wand, pointing it at Harry. "You are not Harry Potter," Ron stated with certainty. "Yeah, sure, you resemble him, but you forgot an important detail."

Harry sat back down; his hands carefully not going anywhere near his wand. "My scar?" he asked, deliberately casual. "Well, that was a beneficial side effect of one of the larger barbs I just mentioned."

At Ron's words, Hermione had developed a small scowl on her face as well, as she looked at Harry. Now she took out her own wand to back Ron up, if necessary. "Explain," she said curtly.

Harry crossed his arms, but carefully kept his back away from the seat back. If his friends actually cast a spell at him, he didn't want his wings to be encumbered. "Ever hear of demon spawn?"

"Myth!" Ron spat out.

But Hermione shook her head. "No, not myth, but very rare. I did an extra credit report on them last year for Care of Magical Creatures."

Harry nodded. "Dumbledore said that there were only seven of them in the country."

"Six," Hermione corrected.

"Until me," Harry said, in turn.

"Demon spawn have wings. Where are yours?" Ron challenged.

"Put away, for now," Harry replied.

"Likely story," the redhead scoffed.

Harry leaned forward, which caused both of his friends to raise their wands in preparation of self-defense. Harry paused. "If you two will allow me to remove my robe and shirt?"

Both Hermione and Ron blushed. "Why?" Ron said, suspiciously.

"Because I'd rather not rip them when I extend my wings," Harry replied reasonably. He saw a little doubt enter Ron's expression.

"The shirt's satin. The robe is crushed velvet. Cost me thirty-two galleons," Harry said persuasively.

The doubt vanished from Ron's face. "Harry never had nice clothes," he stated triumphantly.

"Right. The Dursleys would have destroyed them, then accuse me of stealing, and punish me, or find out where I got the money in case there was more that they could get their hands on. Maybe both."

'This is ridiculous,' Harry thought. 'I'm being held at wand point by my best friends!'

The doubt was back in Ron's face, again. Not many people knew how bad Harry's home life was. "Then where did you get them?" the redhead asked, defiantly.

"My 'loving family' wasn't about to let me stay after my transformation, were they? Besides which, when I changed, the magic output set off the wards. When I woke up, Tonks was sitting guard by my bed, and the house was full of Order members trying to find out what had happened," Harry explained tiredly.

Ron and Hermione, though they kept hold of their wands, at least lowered them. "Just for the sake of argument, let's say you are Harry," Hermione put in. "Why don't you tell the story from the beginning?"

Harry had just reached the part where the headmaster had transformed his bedroom wall into a huge mirror (having omitted any mention of being starkers at any time), when Draco Malfoy made his annual visit.

"Well, I see you survived another summer," Draco said sneeringly, his gaze sliding insultingly over Ron and Hermione, "Pah-hah-hotter?" the blond stuttered, as his gaze settled on Harry. Draco visibly swallowed. His face having lost its mask, it now showed a mixture of confusion and shock, and was quickly developing an overtone of lust as he just stood there, staring.

Harry had wondered if Malfoy would react something like this, so the Slytherin's reaction wasn't a complete shock to him, but it was to Ron and Hermione who stared in fascination as they saw, for the first time, the Slytherin Prince as a real person. Harry felt a bit smug, really, to have so thoroughly discommoded his erstwhile rival.

It wasn't until Gregory Goyle, behind him, said, "Draco?" that the blond finally snapped out of it and resumed his mask. He saw the small smirk on Harry's face, tried desperately to find something suitably snarky to say - and failed. He blushed, turned, and pushing past Crabbe and Goyle, walked rapidly away down the corridor followed by the large Slytherins, and by Ron's raucous laughter. He couldn't face Harry - at least not right now - but he vowed the Weasel would pay for laughing at him.

Back in the Gryffindor Trio's compartment, Ron was looking suspiciously at Harry again. "Why didn't you say anything, if you're Harry? Harry hates that slimy git."

"Not really, Ron; just his attitude. But it just wouldn't do. I may have to marry him."

Ron gaped at him. Then he snorted. "So just who are you, really?"

"Still afraid of spiders, Ron?" Harry asked, tired of this game.

Ron turned an unlovely shade of red. Only Harry and his family knew of his fear of spiders - and 'Mione, of course. "Point," he said. "Okay, you're Harry."

After a moment Ron got over his mortification enough to ask, "Marry Malfoy?"
Harry shrugged. "Another one of the barbs I mentioned. Seems Lucius killed Draco's little sister, who was also a demon spawn, and Draco wound up with a curse; that he'd have to marry a demon spawn."

Hermione was shocked at the revelation of Lucius killing his own daughter, but that couldn't stop her insatiable curiosity. "Why would Draco get cursed for something his father did?" she asked.

"Yeah, mate; and you said there were seven in the country, so what're you worried about?" Ron put in. For him, the news of Lucius having committed infanticide was just proof that the whole family was corrupt.

"The other six already have their mates, Ron," Harry replied.

"And, Hermione," he said, answering her question, "the whole family got cursed. No more children. The Malfoy line is dead, despite Lucius' hopes for Malfoy to carry on the name."

Hermione looked like she was torn between being shocked, and pleased.

"It's about bloody time!" Ron crowed. "Dad always did say our family would outlive theirs!" He looked exceedingly pleased for a minute, to Harry's slight disgust, before the redhead remembered Harry's plight, and looked at his friend pityingly. "I've changed my mind, mate. I really don't want to be you," he said.

"Here, now, wait!" Ron said a moment later, perking up. "You said you have wings? Give us a look, then?"

Harry tilted his head, looking at his best friend perplexedly. "Do you believe I'm me, then?"

"Yeah, yeah, mate; but the wings?"

Harry settled back into his seat. "It'll keep. I'll show you in the dorm."
Ron's expression was a cross between a disappointed scowl and a pout. Quite amusing, really. Harry let his displeasure with his friend fade.

"What happened to your scar, Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry sighed. He loved Hermione to pieces, but when she got on a subject that interested her, she could be as stubborn as a bulldog. It could be just a bit much. "Just like my eyes, 'Mione; the magic from the transformation healed everything."

"But that was a curse scar, Harry!" she persisted. "Nothing can heal those!"
"You're an expert on demon magic, then?" Harry asked, as gently as he could.
Hermione's face flushed. "Right," she said, conceding the point. She looked out the window, with that act saying that the conversation was over.

Harry had mixed feelings about that, but was mostly relieved to have the grilling over with. He watched as Ron put a hand on Hermione's shoulder, offering silent comfort, and sighed as she put her hand over his, accepting it. Harry closed his eyes, hoping for a short nap. When he opened them again a few minutes later, having failed in that effort, he saw Hermione curled up into Ron, her head on his shoulder.

That brought home to him how lonely he was. Harry stood. "I'm going for a short walk; maybe find the refreshment cart," he said.

Ron looked up. "Yeah, mate," he said softly. Hermione nodded her head on Ron's shoulder.

Harry had no intention of looking for the cart lady. He'd merely used that as an excuse. If he came across her, he'd buy Ron and Hermione a few things, but otherwise... So he merely nodded a quick 'farewell' to them, and left. He found an empty compartment, remarkably, and decided to stay there. He'd been watching the countryside roll past for about a half-hour, when the door slid open.

"Oh, for... ! Are you everywhere, Potter?" Draco sneered. He was having 'those' reactions again, but since the original shock of seeing Potter so... changed, was over, he was able to hide them. He was happy he'd already changed into his school robes. They were just voluminous enough to hide the physical reaction.

Harry had turned to face the door as soon as it had started to open, and his wand was in hand, although hidden on his opposite side. "Couldn't find your friends, Malfoy?" Harry asked, without bite.

"Out, Potter," Crabbe said. Harry and Draco both looked at him in surprise. Neither of the large boys - young men, now - were known for speaking, except to back up Draco.

"I'm quite comfortable here, thank you, Crabbe," Harry replied, before looking again to Draco. "Losing control, Mal-?"

Crabbe had his wand in hand - standard practice for them when faced with any of the so-called 'Golden Trio', but now he decided to use it. On his own. Without prior instruction. "Rictusempra!" he incanted.

They all heard a ripping sound.

As Crabbe got out the first couple of syllables, Draco just had time to say "No!" before the spell was complete. It was a fairly harmless spell, meant to cause uncontrollable laughter, but Draco hadn't wanted any trouble, this trip. He turned to remove the laughing curse from Potter. But Potter wasn't the one laughing uncontrollably. Crabbe was. But Draco had other things to occupy his attention. Two other things. Wings. Sticking out of Potter's back.

"Damn," Harry said calmly, trying to peer over his shoulder. "I really liked this shirt, too." He looked up at Draco. "Not to mention the over-robe. I'm glad you weren't the one hit by the rebound," Harry confided.

Draco looked as though his legs were about to collapse under him. Harry moved quickly, as Crabbe and Goyle didn't appear to be aware of the situation (Crabbe laughing uncontrollably on the floor, and Goyle trying to help him), and helped Draco to the seat opposite his before taking his own again.

Draco just kept staring at the wings. Harry kept quiet until Draco's eyes finally shifted to meet his own. "Are you all right, now?" Harry asked quietly.

"Please tell me you're a vampyre?" Draco pleaded.

Harry smirked. That hadn't been the reaction he'd anticipated. Murderous rage, denial - even the accusation of being a vampyre - these, among other reactions, he'd expected. Having Malfoy prefer him to be a vampyre, and therefore possibly the death of him, hadn't been on the list. It was ironic - and funny, in a twisted sort of way.

Harry shook his head. "Sorry, no. Demon spawn. Is that close enough for you?"

To Harry's further amusement, Draco just groaned and dropped his head into his hands. It told Harry one thing, though. Draco was aware of the curse. He leant over and patted the blond on the shoulder. Draco didn't seem to notice. Draco did notice Harry next words, though.

"There, there... darling. It's not that bad, is it?" Harry was having a glorious time.

Draco jerked up and away from Harry as though he'd been stung. "Don't call me that!" he exclaimed, in an angry panic. Then his eyes widened in realization. "You know?"

"And I'm not all that thrilled with it, either," Harry said, nodding.
The Slytherin frowned; a small frown, because he didn't want to cause wrinkles in later life. "What's wrong with me?" he demanded. "I'm a Malfoy!"

"And that's what's wrong with you," Harry said. "Your attitude; not your last name," he quickly added, as Draco looked about ready to explode.
That derailed the blond, but not by much. "Nothing is wrong with my attitude!" He looked like he was debating with himself, and then, as though the words were torn from him, "Is there?"

Harry cocked his head thoughtfully at Draco. "Do the words 'superior', 'sneering', 'snarky', and 'demeaning' mean anything to you?" he asked softly.

Draco blushed. But what he said was, "I am superior!" with his nose elevated.

"What makes you so superior, Draco?" Harry asked, not noticing his use of the blond's given name.

Draco noticed, but he wouldn't mention it - yet. "I'm a pureblood," he said, proudly.

Harry had plenty of the time over this past summer, and others, to contemplate such questions. "If you were to take a vial of your blood, and a vial of Hermione's, and put them side by side, without knowing which vial was which, and without using magic to determine the difference, since that could also tell the difference between even yours and your father's blood - could you tell the difference?"

Draco opened his mouth to give a devastatingly obvious answer... and found himself without a reply. Blood was red, unless it was green.

Harry didn't leave him hanging. "Blood is just blood, Draco. What counts is here," he said, pointing to his head, "and here." Harry put his hand over his heart. At this point, Harry remembered his wings, and reabsorbed them, then made a subtle gesture towards Draco's goons with his wand.
Trying to regain the upper hand, Draco replied, "What would you know? You're not even human!"

Harry shrugged. "So it would seem. Your point?"

Draco had meant for that to be an emotionally devastating barb. That it had completely missed its mark, had left him floundering. He got to his feet, beckoned to his large satellites, who had finally managed to sort themselves out, and then turned to Harry. "Just stay out of my way, Potter," he sneered.

Harry grinned at him, in response. He watched the blond go. He didn't quite know why, but he was enjoying this. He wanted to tame that snarky blond. He wasn't going to be able to do it by pursuing him, though. He knew the Slytherin Prince too well to think that. No, he was going to have to do it in another way - make Draco come to him. He'd known that before, of course, but hadn't bothered to try to think of anything past making himself look good. Now... His grin grew wider, as a plan formed.

o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o

"Oh, my gods! Somebody catch me!"

Harry spun around to find out what had happened, only to find some anonymous girl, a fourth year from the looks of her, staring at him lustfully. And because of her outcry, and her staring at him, a lot of other people were turning to look at him, as well.

"Oh, honestly, Hortense!" came a familiar voice. "Ever since you discovered boys, you've gone absolutely ga-ga!"

Harry grinned. "Hey, Ginny!" he called.

"That absolute dream knows you?" the girl whom Harry now knew was 'Hortense' said to Ginny.

Ginny had turned to curiously study Harry, wondering how he had known who she was. Slowly her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. She raised her hand to cover her mouth before recovering enough to lower it. "Harry? Is that you?" she asked wonderingly.

"You know him?" Hortense exclaimed. "You have to introduce me!"
She was ignored.

Harry continued to grin. "Have I changed that much, Gin?" he asked the redheaded girl.

Ginny didn't answer; she just leapt at him, wrapping her arms around him.
Hortense stared, pouted, then turned and stamped off.

"Have you changed? You utter prat! You know you have!" Ginny exclaimed, stepping back to take a good look at him. "Wow! It's a good thing I'm over that crush, dear 'brother', or you'd never get rid of me," she said, grinning back at him. "What did you do to yourself?"

"Didn't do a thing, Sis," Harry replied. "It was a 'birthday gift'."

Ginny nodded knowingly. "Hidden magic in the broom closet, eh?" She grabbed his hand and started off. "Come on; let's find a carriage!"

"We need to wait for Ron and 'Mione," Harry protested, holding back. Still, he couldn't wipe the grin from his face for her enthusiasm.

Ginny snickered. "They probably don't even know the train's stopped, yet."
Harry just smiled at her, then nodded over her shoulder. Ginny turned. There, glaring at her, was Ron, Hermione standing close by.

Turning back to Harry, Ginny just grinned and shrugged. "Oops!" she said insouciantly. "Well, they're here now, so let's go!"

Ron advanced on his little sister. "Ginevra Weasley, if you think-"
Ron blinked as he found said little sister's wand poking at his nose.
"Don't you dare talk to me as though you were Mum or Da, Ronald Weasley," the youngest Weasley told him fiercely, "or I'll hex you from here to Hogsmeade and back - and you know I can!"

The expression on Ron's face was priceless. The surprise and chagrin he was showing, plus staring at the tip of Ginny's wand, which made him cross-eyed... Harry started laughing.

Ron's focus shifted to Harry. Harry's laughter slowed, then stopped as he noticed that Ron was getting angry. Why? He'd never got truly angry with their teasing before? Ah. Hermione had witnessed it. It wouldn't have mattered last year, but now that their relationship had blossomed from friendship to a closer relationship... Ron had wanted to impress Hermione with his forcefulness, and had wound up looking the fool. Well, his fault for choosing the wrong target. He should have known better. Still...
Harry held his hands up in a placating manner. "Not my fault, Ron. She's your sister!"

"Hey!" Ginny said, fake hurt on her face as she put her wand away. "Thanks ever so, Harry."

Harry gave a short laugh. "Yeah, all right," he conceded. "Mine too, by adoption."

Ginny gave him a short, sharp nod, satisfaction evident in her face. "Damn right!" she said.

"Ginny!" Ron exclaimed, protesting her language.

Ginny gave him a disgusted look. "All right, all right!" she conceded impatiently. "Now can we get a carriage before they're all taken?"

o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o