FicWad

Demon Spawn


by Draeconin


See chapter one for disclaimer and details.


Chapter Four

Harry didn't see Malfoy again until the Sorting Ceremony. When he caught the blond Slytherin looking his way, Harry subtly winked at him, and then looked away as though he'd done no such thing. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the blond's reaction: shock, then perplexed confusion, before his mask slid back into place. Granted, the reactions had been quite subtle, but Harry had been studying the blond for years.

The Sorting Ceremony was quite long, this year. When Voldemort had first been defeated and thought killed, people had again started having children, thinking it would then be safe to raise a family. That bunch would have started coming to Hogwarts about two years after he had. This batch was still from near the beginning of that period of Dark-Lord-free time. Harry suspected that the number would increase for about another nine or ten years and then slack off, as people had again become more careful about bringing children into the world after Voldemort's return. Assuming, that is, that there was still a Hogwarts and a free wizarding world by that time.

Harry carefully didn't make eye contact with Draco during the Sorting Feast, but looked at him often with his peripheral vision. He was gratified to catch the Slytherin looking at him on several occasions; occasionally with a sneer if he were talking to his housemates, but otherwise thoughtfully and, Harry thought, with a hint of curiosity.

His own attention was quite occupied by his housemates all wanting to know the secret to his transformation. They were referring, of course, to his transformation from a 'pleasant-looking' boy to 'a hot item', as one Muggle-born witch in fourth year was heard to say. Still, the first time he heard the word he'd wondered if his secret was out. He knew Crabbe and Goyle wouldn't say anything. He'd used a confusion hex on them, adding images so wild they'd be thought mad if they were to voice them to anyone. So the only one who might reveal his true status was Malfoy; and he wouldn't for reasons of his own. At least Harry was almost sure of that. So Harry was quite relieved when it turned out his friends and House mates were only speaking of his appearance.

"How are we to have a chance at the birds now, Harry?" Seamus Finnigan teased.

"Oh, that's just 'fowl', Seamus," Harry quipped. "But if you're intent on it, I suppose you might find some by the lake."

There was a general round of groans, and Seamus winced comically, then aimed a swipe at Harry's arm. "Think you earned a 'feather' in your cap for that, don't you?" Finnigan replied, joining in the game.

Harry just grinned and shook his head. "No, that would be you, Finnigan, getting 'down' with your bad self!"

Seamus clutched at his chest, miming an arrow to the heart, and let himself fall back to floor, playing dead.

"Punning - the lowest form of humour," Hermione said into the laughter.

'Most everyone who heard, ignored her. The remainder wondered what had her in such a serious mood, and then shrugged it off to return to the general festivities.

Harry found out later, but not before engineering another 'accidental' run-in with Draco as everyone was filing out of the Great Hall on the way to their dorms. He spotted his quarry, got close, and then pretended to get shoved into the blond. In the process of 'steadying' them both, Harry held Draco quite close - but only so long as it took them to regain their balance, and perhaps a second or two more.

"Sorry, Draco; got shoved. See you in lessons," Harry said with a smile. With that he was off into the crowd, not looking back, and not giving the Slytherin a chance to be snarky. And now with a quite definite smirk on his face. Harry's plan to tame the blond Slytherin had been initiated.

Draco stared after the retreating form of his rival, torn between indignant anger at being so rudely jostled and familiarly handled, and a strange new feeling that entailed, in part, a warmth in his stomach, and where Potter had touched him. He shook it off. He'd give Potter an earful tomorrow, if he didn't just hex the beautiful, sexy git. 'No! I did not just think that!'

Draco was horrified with himself. He then remembered what happened when Crabbe had tried to hex the demon spawn, and decided that hexing was off the agenda.

'Speaking of Crabbe/,' Draco thought, '/there's a matter of acting without orders to be spoken of.'

~ - - - ~

The trouble started for Harry almost as soon as he entered the Gryffindor common room. He found an empty seat and was watching the second and third years welcoming, talking, and getting to know the new first years, when Hermione came up to him. "Malfoy, Harry?" she accused.

"What about him?" he asked, continuing to watch the youngers.

"I saw you watching him out of the corner of your eye; and then that pathetic 'trip' into him as we were leaving?"

Harry still hadn't recovered from his friends grilling him at wand point on the train. This was too much. He slowly, deliberately, turned his head until he was looking her in the eye. "And what business is that of yours?" he asked, with a decided chill in his voice. "I told both of you, on the train."

"But you act like you want-" she began in a loud, outraged tone.

Harry silenced her. Not with a spell, but just from the sudden, intense need to shut up that annoying nagging. And then he stared, amazed.

Hermione tried a couple of more times to say something - probably telling him to take the spell off (which he wasn't quite ready to do, yet) - and then stomped off; likely in search of Ron. A minute or two later his guess was proved out as Hermione again appeared, this time dragging Ron.

"What's this all about, mate?" Ron asked, perplexed. This was, evidently, the wrong approach, because Hermione kicked him in the shin, causing the redhead to dance about a bit while he rubbed it and glared at her.

Harry wasn't in a mood to be amused. "Your girlfriend decided to nag me. After that debacle on the train, I am not in the mood to put up with it," he said, with a shrug.

Ron addressed Hermione. "He's a dem-"

"Ron!" Harry interrupted. When the redhead looked at Harry, shocked that the raven-haired youth would use such a harsh tone with him, Harry said, "That's just between us. If it gets out, I will know where it came from." The warning was unvoiced, but it was there.

Harry turned his attention to Hermione. "This is not fourth or fifth year, 'Mione. I don't need, nor do I want your interference or 'advice' unless I ask for it. I love you as a friend, but your 'mothering' is extremely unwelcome. Are we understood?"

During Harry's speech to Ron's girlfriend, the redhead's face had become very flushed. Ron desperately wanted to defend her, but at the same time he really wasn't involved. He had suffered from Hermione's 'mothering' complex as well, so he could sympathise. And this was a demon spawn talking! Ron had an almost superstitious awe of them from bedtime stories he'd been told as a child. That awe was a little compromised since this one was his best friend, but he wound up standing there feeling conflicted and helpless nonetheless.

Hermione was shocked that Harry would talk to her like that, but was far too angry to care right then. She glared, but nodded, then pointed to her mouth.

Harry frowned. He wasn't quite sure how he'd done it in the first place.

Ron misunderstood. "I tried 'Finite', but it didn't work," he admitted. "Would you?"

"I'm not sure how I did it," Harry admitted, in his turn. "Give me a minute?"

"Yeah, mate," the redhead conceded, helplessly. He gave Hermione an embarrassed little shrug as she stood there glaring equally, back and forth, at Harry and Ron.

Harry concentrated, willing her to be able to speak again.

"Would you hurry- Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, and then remembered she was angry with the dark-haired lad. "Don't you ever do anything like that to me again!" she ordered.

Harry was looking at her, eyes narrowed. "I don't really know what I'm capable of, /Granger/. Do you really want to push me enough to find out?"

Hermione's shocked brown eyes stared at him. Harry's use of her surname had brought home to her that she actually may have pushed him too far.

"Don't threaten her, Harry," Ron growled.

Harry's eyes closed in pain, and he reached for the strength to deal with this. When they slowly opened again, focused over the redhead's shoulder, the lights seemed dimmer. He wondered for half a second if he was absorbing the light. "I understand, Ron. She's your girlfriend, and you feel the need to protect your potential mate." Now he focused his eyes on Ron's. "But she's in the wrong, and on some level you know it."

Ron's flushed face showed that yes, he was aware of it, but the stubborn set of his jaw said that wasn't going to make a difference.

Harry sighed and stood, then very formally held his hand out to the young man who had been his best friend for so many years.

"Harry!" came Ginny's happy voice. "Why are you hiding away in a corner? Come show off that gorgeous bod!" Ginny thought Harry's hair looked darker, but then dismissed the thought. Probably just due to the dimmed lights. As the youngest Weasley joined them, she took in the expressions on their faces. "What's going on?" she asked, losing her smile, concern evident in her voice.

Harry smiled weakly at the girl. "I was just about to say a fond farewell to our brother," he said, his voice cracking on the last word, tears evident in his eyes.

That things had gone this far had never occurred to Ron, and he was shocked. "What? But... mate!"

Ginny had rounded on her brother, but Harry's hand on her shoulder forestalled her. She looked questioningly at her adored adopted brother. When he shook his head at her, she subsided, but it was apparent that it was only a temporary cease-fire.

"I won't be controlled or led around by the ear anymore, Ron - by anyone. Nor will I allow myself to be browbeaten. And... I refuse to come between you and Hermione," Harry explained.

Hermione's eyes were wide open by this time as well. "Harry?" she said tentatively, finally aware of where her controlling nature had led them.

Harry just shook his head at her and then pushed past them, heading for the common room exit. It had become too much for him. A moment later he was gone, leaving two shocked sixth-years, and a furious fifth-year who was now demanding explanations.

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

"About your actions on the train today, Vincent... " Draco drawled, when he could finally talk to his 'bodyguards' in private. "Wasn't that just a bit out of character?"

"Terribly sorry, Draco. Just a bit out of sorts. That whole 'father in Azkaban' thing, you know. I was rather surprised you weren't out for your pint of blood from him as well," the large young man replied.

Contrary to their public personae, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were not the great lumps they pretended to be. They would hardly have made it through their first year at Hogwarts if they were, let alone passed their OWLs. It amused them to conform to the 'large equals dumb' stereotype. Of course, adhering to it had led them into embarrassing situations from time to time...

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss it at this time," Draco said, hoping they'd think his lack of action was due to some plan or other from either his father or Voldemort.

"Draco, you know better," Gregory admonished. At Draco's questioning look, he embellished. "We're not as dumb as we look?" he reminded the blond. "We saw how you reacted. I think Potter may have put a confusion hex on us, because I can recall seeing a lot of things that don't seem possible, but one thing does stand out. Wings. Is Potter a vampyre? Did he hypnotise you?"

Draco laughed, bitterly. "No, Potter's not a vampyre. But if you don't remember, I think I'd prefer to leave it that way."

"Not very friendly, Draco," Vincent said, frowning. Gregory's expression was quite similar.

"It's... personal, all right?" Draco replied, defensively.

Crabbe looked bored. "We already figured that out. You fancy him."

"Don't be ridiculous!" the blond said, scornfully.

When his large friends just kept looking at him dubiously, he caved. "It's... complicated. Yes, he's very desirable; but you know as well as I do what might happen if I were to pursue that. And there are... other factors - that I will not go into," he added, in response to their quiet urgings to continue.

"You know that he's interested, then?" Vincent asked carefully.

"I'm... not sure. I think so," Draco replied. "He did say that he didn't care for my attitude," he said quietly, then blushed as he realised that he'd said that aloud.

Both young men were nodding. "Good for defence; poor for winning friends and influencing people. We accept it in public for the sake of the farce, but if you were the same way with us in private... You don't think we'd put up with the abuse?"

Draco shook his head, accepting the distinction. And yes, he did do most of it for defensive purposes. Well, almost all of it, actually. The things he'd done to get Potter and his friends in trouble had been upon orders from his father to do something - /any/thing - to force the 'Boy Who Lived' out of protected status and protected space, or face the consequences. 'Cruciatus' didn't leave any marks on the body.

Fortunately his father hadn't done it often, or for more than a few seconds when he did; and Draco had always blamed Potter for getting him in enough trouble to bring the curse upon him, although the mudblood getting higher marks than he had done so a time or two as well. With Lucius not around to influence him any longer, though, Draco had begun to question the justice of those punishments, as well as the severity. Surely an Unforgivable curse was a bit much?

"Draco?"

Draco broke from his reverie. "Just thinking," he said, defensively.

Vincent and Gregory grinned at each other, then turned to the blond. "Thinking of Potter?" Gregory inquired.

"My father, if you must know," Draco replied coolly.

"Well, our fathers are out of the way of making or causing any more trouble. And I must admit that I over-reacted on the train. Not really Potter's fault they're in Azkaban - just in the right place at the wrong time. But I was brooding, and he was a good scapegoat," Crabbe explained, then left that potentially dangerous subject behind. "But if you want to get anywhere with Potter, you might want to tone down the 'aristocratic git' image."

"Gregory?" Draco inquired, asking for that young man's input. "You're being very quiet."

Goyle shrugged. "Vince and I discussed this earlier. He's said it well enough," he stated with a little grin.

"Besides which, if I took something badly, it wouldn't be you getting hexed?" Draco guessed.

Gregory's grin grew wider, confirming the suspicion.

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

"Harry?"

'Ginny,' Harry thought, and turned. "How did you find me?"

Ginny shrugged. "It wasn't hard. You wander the halls if you can't sleep, but you come up here if you're troubled, or you need to think."

Harry stared at her. "How would you know that?"

"I used to have a crush on you, remember? I used to hide to watch you; and when you went out, I followed."

"Do you know how dangerous that was?" Harry inquired, concern making him angry.

"Hey," she said, flippantly, "I never got caught!" Ginny gave a little laugh. "Although it was close, a few times," she admitted.

"But-"

"Harry," she interrupted, "I'm not here to talk about me."

"There's nothing to talk about," Harry replied.

"Am I going to have to put you in a body bind so you'll talk to me?" Ginny said teasingly.

"It wouldn't work," Harry said with a wry grin.

Ginny laughed. "Don't tell me you've become immune to magic?" she said disbelievingly.

"Something like that - and don't try it!" he warned, as he saw a mischievous look come into her eyes. "I'll show you why, if you think you can keep it to yourself," Harry offered.

"Harry," she said patiently, "did I ever tell Ron or Hermione where they could find you?"

Harry got up and hugged his 'adoptive' sister. It was all unofficial, but it felt real. "Thanks, sis," he said, then he started taking off his robe.

"Harry! I said I was over my crush, but don't tempt me!" she said laughingly. "What are you doing?"

"I don't want to rip any more clothes, today," Harry replied enigmatically. "I still have to repair a couple of things." By now he was out of the robe. He cast a locking charm on the door, and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"If any of my brothers saw you disrobing in front of me... Not that I mind the show!" she said fervently.

Harry finished removing his shirt. "You might want to sit down," he suggested.

"Good idea," Ginny replied a bit breathlessly, as she stared.

He'd had in mind shock from seeing his wings when he'd asked her to sit, but - whatever worked. He hadn't really expected her to get aroused. After the youngest Weasley had seated herself, Harry unfolded his wings, watching her carefully.

Ginny stared. "What are you?" she asked, in awe.

Harry grinned. He should have known he wouldn't have to worry about his adoptive sister. "You're not going to accuse me of being a vampyre?" he asked.

The redheaded girl sneered at him. "They're not black," she said flatly, referring to his wings.

"Okay, okay! Turn off the attitude," he said laughingly. Then he sobered. "Have you ever heard of demon spawn?"

"Sure," she said. "Mum told Ron and me stories about them once in a while when we were wee tykes. Why?" Her eyes widened. "Harry? You're not saying... ?"

Harry nodded.

Ginny just sat there staring at him, then at his wings, with their multi-coloured shifting patterns.

Harry got self-conscious, re-absorbed his wings, and then started putting his shirt and robe back on. "It's late. We should be getting back to the dorms," he said.

"Harry," Ginny said hesitantly, "how does this tie in with what happened down there?"

"Ginny, if I weren't afraid I'd be starting something I couldn't finish, I'd kiss you. You're the first one to ask, rather than demand."

"So?" the girl said, a bit impatiently.

"I take it back," Harry teased. Then he sighed. "There are seven demon spawn in Britain, right now. The other six are mated," he said, abruptly. "And Draco Malfoy was cursed by a demon to marry a demon spawn." He watched Ginny's eyes widen. "Now, remember that you promised. I don't want anyone else to have that information. Ron and Hermione know, but they're not okay with it."

"Why not?"

"Because it's Malfoy, and because they would interfere if they knew I was working on it. I don't want to have to do something to them, if they did," he finished grimly.

"You want to marry him?" Ginny asked, in disbelief.

Harry's smile was a bit dry of humour. "I want to tame him," he replied. Then his gaze focused on Ginny again. "Although he is a bit of all right. If you want to watch, I have no qualms with that. But don't get involved, Ginny. You're precious to me."

There were layers of warnings, there. Ginny heard them all. She also heard the obvious love and caring. She nodded. Although she still loved and adored her 'brother', this was not the simple boy she thought she knew. "May I have a hug?" she asked him, feeling a bit insecure.

Harry smiled and gave her the reassurance she needed. It also reassured him - a bonus.

Ginny looked up at him, a gamine smile on her face. "I can really watch?"

Harry grinned at her. "Yes, you /may/," he corrected.

She stuck her tongue out at him, then grinned happily.

When they arrived back at the common room, it was to find Ron and Hermione waiting up for them - or for Harry, at any rate.

"What were you doing out alone, Ginny?" Ron asked, frowning.

"Does it look like I was alone, Ron?" Ginny replied, with a look that implied Ron had lost what little brains he had to begin with.

Ron's face darkened for a moment, then he let it go. Harry had never shown any interest in Ginny in that way - and what if he were? What better match? "So where were you?" he asked.

"We had quite a nice conversation, Ron; in the Astronomy Tower," Harry interjected.

Hermione had been patient long enough. "Harry, I... " She bit her lip when Harry turned his less-than-warm gaze on her. "I'm sorry, Harry!" she blurted out. "I just... "

"You just think that I can't think for myself; that I'm going to bumble into trouble, stumble over the shoelaces I don't know how to tie, and break my neck - all while reaching for a muffin at breakfast," Harry interrupted acerbically.

Hermione flushed. "All right; I deserved that," she admitted.

"No, Ron. I did," she said, as the redhead looked as though he were going to leap to her defence. She turned back to Harry.

"I... hope I haven't irreparably damaged our friendship, Harry. And I don't want to be the cause of a rift between you and Ron." She was silent a moment, but Harry had decided to let her have her say, for the sake of old times. "I know I have a tendency to want to be in control,-"

Harry snorted his agreement, renewing her blush.

"- but I truly thought I was helping! I wanted to be a help, anyway. I felt I wasn't doing enough," Hermione finished, weakly.

"Are you finished?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded.

"I'll take it under advisement," the demon spawn said, and headed for the stairs to the boys' dorms, leaving his two best friends feeling lost, and Ginny trying to keep from doing a victory leap. She had been waiting for years for him to stand up to those two.

"What now?" Hermione asked, sounding as lost as she felt. Ron looked at her helplessly, and shrugged.

"Now," Ginny stated firmly, drawing a surprised look from the other two, "you try to see him for who he /is/, rather than who you want him to be!" With a look of admonishment at the two, she headed off for bed, herself.

It had taken her a couple of years, but in those years of following Harry around and spying on him she had, herself, come to see that 'The Hero of the Wizarding World' was only a slight, bewildered, bespectacled boy who was just trying to cope with circumstances that were out of his control; not some sort of super-wizard, despite whatever power he might have. That was the time during which her infatuation had turned to compassion, and then a sisterly fondness that had deepened considerably, over time.

True, he was now any witch's wet dream (and probably a good few wizards'), but while she could appreciate his new looks, it would have felt wrong to try to do anything about it; the same as with any of her brothers. Not to mention the fact, although he hadn't actually come out and said so, that Harry just wasn't interested in 'the gentler sex'. 'Gentler/,' she thought, thinking of some of the women she knew, and knew of. '/Ha!'

Below, in the common room, Hermione turned to Ron. "Do you think she's right? Have we failed Harry?" she asked, hoping for reassurance.

Ron, still looking in the direction his sister had gone, replied. "I'm not sure any more, 'Mione." His thoughts ran over the years; memories of Harry playing out in his mind, and compared that with what he knew now. "Maybe," he admitted. It was galling to think that his best friend, someone he'd known for five years, might not be the person Ron thought he was. It was worse to realize that his ignorance might have been due to his own willful blindness.

As late as it was, and the first day of classes tomorrow, they huddled up together in front of the fire, lost in their own thoughts as each tried to garner comfort from the other.

Harry stretched out in bed, his own emotions not the happiest. But if the last month was any indication, with the loss of the curse scar, he at least would no longer be receiving visions from Voldemort, nor be taunted by him. If he had nightmares, they'd be honest ones. Harry turned over on his side and drifted off to sleep.

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