Chapter 13
“Harry, are you sure you don’t mind missing the Hogsmeade trip?” Aidan asked.
“Believe me - I’d much rather spend the day with you, love. Besides, look at this place.” Harry gestured around the beautiful clearing they’d just entered. “How many more days like this will we have before winter sets in?”
Harry absently wondered why, in all his years at Hogwarts, he’d never seen this exquisite glen before. Had they inadvertently wandered into the Forbidden Forest? He couldn’t imagine such a gorgeous place being dangerous.
The glen was almost perfectly round in shape, with an opening at one end, where the two boys now stood, just inside. The floor was covered in a lush carpet of thick, green grass, and just about every kind of tree and foliage grew around the perimeter. The trees were ancient and enormous, almost meeting at the top, creating a canopy of branches that filtered out all but the heartiest sunlight.
A ring of rowan trees, seven in number, were spaced at perfect intervals around the circle – almost as if they’d been planted this way purposely. Their brilliant red leaves, resplendent in the height of their mid-autumn glory, practically glowed against the surrounding evergreens.
Although the day had been perfectly still, inside the glen a soft, fragrant breeze stirred around, making the leaves flutter gently. It felt like a cool and refreshing caress to the boys, who realized suddenly that they’d become somewhat over-heated during the walk here.
“It’s a perfect place for a picnic, isn’t it?” Aidan sighed contentedly, setting the bulging basket he was carrying down on the forest floor. “Although it looks like Dobby doesn’t quite understand that ‘feast’ and ‘picnic’ are two very different things.”
Harry blushed. “If Hermione ever finds out I asked him to make us lunch…”
“He really does love doing things for you,” Aidan chuckled. “In fact, he just loves YOU in general…something I can completely relate to, incidentally.”
Harry looked uncomfortable. “I hope I’m not taking advantage of him.”
“Weeeeelllll - for a price, I might be persuaded to NOT tell Ms. S.P.E.W. about your dastardly deeds,” Aidan waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Hmmm….you drive a hard bargain,” Harry reached over and snagged the thick braid which hung down Aidan’s back, drawing the redhead into his arms.
Aidan smirked. Hair-pulling by his mate was always a kick, a definite harbinger of enthusiastic horseplay to come. Hopefully, today would be no exception.
Aidan had been experiencing some rather unusual impulses of his own, since entering the glen. He was feeling increasingly feisty and energetic. He had the most irresistible urge to begin banishing Harry’s clothing, one article at a time (starting with those annoying boxers), just to see how long it would take him to notice. Then, he thought it would be a great deal of fun to chase a naked Harry around the glen for a bit, before taking him down in a flying tackle and rolling him around in the grass. Definitely NOT his usual Modus Operundi!
His body seemed to be in league with his increasingly ribald state of mind. It was as though the entire atmosphere had conspired to fondle him with invisible hands. If asked to describe it, he would have likened it to being caught up in some weirdly erotic dream, in which his body was being lightly stroked by the whomping willow (or, the branches of one of those magnificent rowans), from head to toe, with the most intense activity centering on his groin.
“I’ve got news for you, Potter.” Aidan suddenly understood, for the first time in his life, from whence the ridiculous phrase ‘throbbing python of love’ had originated. “I AM a hard bargain.” He then pounced on Harry, reveling in the fact that everyone’s favorite speaker of Parseltongue was about to get a mouthful. Or, a butt-load. Or, perhaps both, if he wasn’t careful.
Somehow, creation had suddenly brought every enjoyable element, both natural and magical, together in one aphrodisiacal moment. Harry, who had never before seen quite that look in Aidan’s eyes, decided that he couldn’t wait to find out what it might mean.
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“What ARE they doing in there?” snarled the angry centaur.
“Bane, my old friend – I’d imagine that one who’d attained as many summers as you have would possess at least an elementary understanding of these things,” his companion teased good-naturedly.
Bane frowned. “You place yourself amongst these humans far too often, Firenze, and have taken on their frivolity!”
The Divination Professor elected to allow his companion’s ill-tempered grousing to pass without challenge.
“The others will be here soon!” Bane reminded him.
Firenze shrugged. “I’m not going to be the one to interrupt the consummation of the Chosen One’s life bond with his Mactus empowerer!”
“What I fail to understand is how they managed to enter the glen in the first place!” Bane lamented. “It is sacred ground, set aside for the Equinox ceremony.”
“Indeed. Supposedly invisible and unchartable to all, save the centaurs.”
“This does NOT bode well!” Bane, more agitated than Firenze had ever seen him before, stomped back and forth across the adjoining field. “This is what comes of mixing with humans.”
“Events have clearly been taken out of our hands, my brother.”
“What of the rituals?” snapped Bane.
“I challenge you to name any magic more powerful than what you see taking place here,” Firenze murmured quietly, watching as Harry Potter was thoroughly ravished by his lifemate, who was screaming uncontrollably in Latin.
“They have been over-exposed to the Suscito* vines, and are beside themselves!” Bane snorted with derision.
“You know the meaning of their conjoined aura,” Firenze stated firmly, “You can perceive these signs as clearly as I can.”
The rest of their herdmates had quietly joined them by this time.
“I’ve never before seen such colors,” gasped Lorin, a bulky young chestnut standing to the right of Bane.
“Those colors don’t exist in the physical realm,” Firenze explained. “They are not discernable by corporeal beings – save for situations such as these.”
“What say you, Lord Argent?” Bane inquired of the tall, stately, silver colored elder. “What shall we do now?”
“The only thing we CAN do,” replied the senior herdmember, “we must guard that which the Old Ones have clearly sanctioned for this moment.”
Harry and Aidan, thoroughly occupied with their enthusiastic coupling, never noticed the migration of the seven centaurs, each moving across the glen, to stand beside one of the seven enormous rowans. Once in place, they turned as one, facing outward, determined to succor with their lives the most important and necessary bonding in almost two millennium.
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“Did you two ever make it into Hogsmeade?” asked Hermione, “We didn’t see you anywhere.”
Hermione and Ron, the first ones back from the day’s excursion, found Harry and Aidan curled up together on one of the couches in the common room.
“Hey, guys,” Harry smiled up at them from his position beside Aidan. The smaller boy, lying bonelessly across Harry’s chest, murmured a greeting, not even bothering to open his eyes.
“What happened to him?” Ron asked incredulously.
Well…” Harry gazed down at his beautiful little redhead, running his hand lovingly through his mate’s hair, “let’s just say that our life bond…which wasn’t completely consummated before….now is.”
“Wicked!” Ron grinned widely.
“Ooooooo - congratulations,” Hermione gushed, “But why does Aidan look like he’s been trying to arm wrestle with the giant squid?”
“Yeah,” Ron smirked, “I thought this consummation stuff was supposed to be enjoyable.”
“Well, it was a rather….intense experience,” Harry smiled fondly, caressing the side of Aidan’s face, “Wasn’t it, love?”
Aidan snorted quietly, still not raising his head or opening his eyes. “Imagine, if you will, being shrunk down to microscopic size, and then being forced to ride a double-helix roller coaster, which is moving at supersonic speed, for an indeterminate amount of time, and you’ll be close.”
Harry and Hermione began to snicker.
Ron’s confused glance cycled around amongst his friends, making a complete circuit. “You know, I have to confess, I didn’t understand a single word he just said.”
“Yeah, but he described it perfectly,” Harry replied, hugging Aidan tightly.
“You know, Aidan, I love you like a brother,” Hermione wiped tears from her eyes. “But you truly are such a nerd.”
“My nerd,” Harry kissed Aidan’s temple. “My very own, raunchy, randy, feisty little nerd, who’s so tuckered out, he can hardly move now.”
“You’re not getting around so well yourself, Sparky,” Aidan yawned, relaxing even further into Harry.
“True,” Harry winced, and then sighed contentedly. He was clearly thinking back to their shared time in the glen. “Neither of us can move worth a shite, but for entirely different reasons.”
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Aidan, in an effort to master some aspect of wizardhood without the usual uproarious results, set about to unobtrusively read every word he could find regarding the animagus transformation.
He reasoned that, since Fawkes insisted he had “flight” inside of himself, and since he had the Rostrumnaro gift, and since he had no luck whatsoever with brooms, it stood to reason that he was some kind of bird. Given the perverse way his magic usually manifested itself, he was extremely glad that the now-extinct dodo bird had been flightless.
Once he’d read through everything twice, he began by doing as all the books had suggested – during meditation, he sought to visualize his new form. After several unsuccessful attempts, he finally had a breakthrough.
One afternoon, in the midst of deep meditation, he suddenly had the sense of moving at high speed. He opened his eyes, startled to find that he was looking down at the landscape from a great height. He could just barely make out flashes of bright red, fluttering about in his peripheral vision.
“Rogue” gasped in surprise, at which point a very tasty insect got caught in his beak. He glomped it down without missing a beat, and continued soaring over the green field below. It felt marvelous to just glide on his tired, outstretched wings, after having worked so hard to attain the previous height.
Oh, look – the human hatchlings were out, soaring around on those unusual sticks they used for flight. They were playing with that heavy round thing again, occasionally tossing it through the ring at the top of that branchless tree. My, but they were noisy, chirping and squawking at each other, and occasionally colliding in mid-air. What made them so argumentative, anyway?
All except for that one with the dark feathers, who glided around up higher than the rest. Why did he not join his fellows? Was he an outcast? He seemed to pay them no mind, eyes darting around, as though searching for something. Perhaps he was their sentinel, on the lookout for attacking hawks or eagles?
A small, yellow, winged creature darted past the dark one’s head, and he immediately gave chase. The round yellow bird always stayed just ahead of his grasping claws. Was this the anticipated danger? Perhaps Rogue should help him – or warn the others.
All at once, just as quickly as he had become airborne, Aidan was back in his dorm, face down on his bed, dizzy with excitement.
Success! Something about his magic was actually working the way it was supposed to!! For once, he might be able to perfect the casting of a spell without his usual calamities beforehand. Imagine – actually finding his true animagus form without cycling through several dozen bizarre amalgamations. Hopefully, nobody would die from the shock of it all.
For the next several days, he practiced faithfully, becoming progressively more adept at connecting to his animagus form whenever he wished to. He knew he indeed was a bird, that he was red (big surprise there!), and that his name was Rogue. He had even reached the point where he was able to remember, when connected to Rogue, that he was also a human wizard named Aidan. The only thing left to do was the actual transformation.
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Aidan finally had the dorm all to himself on the first Friday afternoon in October, at which point he decided he was ready to take this last step.
Harry, Ron and Seamus were at Quidditch practice, and Neville was attending a “Muggle Studies” lecture. Poor Dean was in detention with Snape, who did not see the humor in having a whole box of Fizzing Whizbees dumped into his freshly-brewed calming draught. No doubt about it – the man’s “Grouch Account” was completely overdrawn.
Aidan, his heart beating wildly, seated himself in a lotus-like position on the countertop facing the bathroom mirror. After taking a deep, calming breath, he closed his eyes, and visualized himself becoming Rogue.
After a few moments, it seemed to him that he could feel something happening to his body. It wasn’t painful, but it definitely felt strange. He instinctively tried to clench his fists, only to discover that his hands were gone.
Okay – I have either successfully transformed, or I have inadvertently splinched my hands away somewhere, he chirped.
Chirped…
Hmmm…..that sounds promising.
So…..open your eyes and take a look.
………….(!).
Well…come on, chicken shit – put your birdseed where your beak is!
Aidan slowly opened first one, and then the other eye.
“BRAAAWWWKKK!!!” he screeched in shock, falling over backwards into the sink.
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Harry, freshly showered and completely exhausted after Quidditch practice, wanted nothing more than to curl up in his mate’s arms and sleep for about five hours.
“Aidan?” he called, entering the dorm.
“Haven’t seen him,” Ron snarled, from half-way under his bed.
“What are you doing?” Harry asked, bemused.
“I’m trying to catch this stupid fucking bird that somebody let loose in here while we were gone!”
“SQUUUUAAAAWWWKKK!” the affronted bird replied.
“I don’t think he likes you, Ron,” Harry chuckled quietly. “Accio, bird.”
The tiniest little red bird Harry had ever seen floated out from the under Ron’s bed and landed in Harry’s outstretched hands.
“Jeeze, Ron – his poor little heart is beating a mile a minute!” Harry gently stroked the trembling creature, which relaxed in his hands, trilling quietly
“Well, excuse me, St. Francis!” Ron grumbled, “but I was pretty sure you wouldn’t want him shitting on your bed!”
“I’ve never seen a bird like this before,” Harry murmured, examining the diminutive creature, which nuzzled against his hand, warbling contentedly.
“Put him back outside,” Ron advised. “He’s probably got lice or something.”
The bird stopped nuzzling Harry, turned toward Ron, and chattered angrily.
“Look at the black around his eyes,” Harry was completely captivated by his new friend. “He looks like a tiny little bandit, doesn’t he?”
Neville, who had just returned to the dorm, joined Harry by the window.
“Where’d you get a Northern Cardinal?” Neville asked in confusion.
Harry released the bird onto the windowsill, where it began hopping up and down, squawking frantically.
“It was here when I got back from Quidditch practice,” Ron answered.
“You never find these birds anywhere except in the northern and eastern United States,” Neville supplied.
The bird, still hopping up and down, squawked even more loudly.
“Open the window for him,” Ron advised. “He wants out, I think.”
Much to everyone’s amazement, the bird shook its head vehemently, and then flitted from its place on the windowsill to Harry’s shoulder. Once settled there, it gently nibbled on Harry’s earlobe.
“Oh my gods - that tickles!” Harry exclaimed, trying his best to stand still.
The bird stopped nibbling immediately, as though understanding, and trilled softly instead.
The three boys exchanged startled glances.
“You can’t put it outside,” Neville stated, “it’ll never survive in this climate.”
After a moment, it dawned on Harry as to what this might mean. The perky little bundle of feathers resting on his shoulder wasn’t the only red-hued creature he knew that was indigenous to the northeastern United States - and the other one just happened to be strangely absent at the present time.
Harry reached for the tiny bird, who stepped trustingly into his hands. They made eye contact, regarding each other silently for a long moment, after which there was no doubt in Harry’s mind.
“You’re Aidan, aren’t you?” Harry asked, softly stroking the tiny crest on top of the bird’s head.
Rogue nodded, trilling with relief.
“Oi! THAT’S Aidan?!” Ron yelled, remembering the relentless way he’d been pursuing his feathered dorm mate.
“Sure looks that way,” Harry replied, smiling tenderly as his tiny lover nibbled affectionately on his knuckle.
“Merlin, I’m sorry, Aidan,” Ron was mortified. “I had no idea!”
Rogue turned, glaring and squawking at the other redhead, undoubtedly trying to convey something that roughly translated as “Feather-brain!”
Neville laughed at the bird’s antics.
“You found your animagus form, sweetheart!” Harry stated excitedly.
Rogue nodded, chirping happily.
“Oh, just look at you,” Harry murmured softly, kissing the red crown on top of Rogue’s head, “you’re SO beautiful, baby.”
A very relieved Rogue nibbled gently at the side of Harry’s face, returning the kiss. He’d so been hoping that his animagus form would be a phoenix, and had been devastated to discover that he was a cardinal. Harry, however, seemed absolutely delighted with Rogue.
“I’m so proud of you!” Harry beamed. “This is NOT an easy thing to do, you know.”
Rogue chirruped, basking in the praise.
“Oh, my GODS!” Harry practically squealed, “please change back, so I can snog you properly!”
Rogue ducked his head in embarrassment, twittering dejectedly.
“Uh oh – are you stuck?” Harry asked.
Rogue nodded shamefully. Being a cardinal instead of a phoenix had freaked him out so badly, he’d forgotten how to transform back into Aidan.
“Let’s go see Dumbledore.” Harry transformed the pencil holder from his desk set into a small cage for safely transporting Rogue – just in case they happened to encounter someone like Crookshanks, or Mrs. Norris. “He’ll be able to help.”
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“So, if Aidan isn’t a phoenix, then why did his tears heal my hand last month?” Harry asked, completely mystified. “It felt exactly like what happened with Fawkes, in the Chamber that time.”
“Well, as we all know, Mr. Agrandir’s Mactus powers increase your strength any time the two of you are in physical contact,” Dumbledore replied.
Harry nodded.
“I believe that strengthening covers everything about you – including your body’s own healing powers, as well as your immune system.”
“Okay, that makes sense,” Harry said.
“Sir, did the levels of Mr. Flammel’s Mactus influence ever fluctuate, depending on his emotional state?” Aidan asked.
“Oh, most definitely,” the Headmaster nodded. “Our combined powers were immeasurable any time he was experiencing strong emotions.”
“That explains a lot,” Aidan smiled shyly at Harry. “I was pretty freaked out by what happened to you.”
“We were particularly effective any time Nicholas had been quarreling with Mrs. Flammel,” Dumbledore smiled in remembrance. “Or, if Mrs. Flammel’s mother’s portrait had been visiting.”
“I wonder if it works the same way with positive emotion,” Aidan mused, mentally projecting to his mate some interesting ideas regarding the possible results of mid-orgasm spell casting.
“Gee – I don’t know,” Harry blushed, simultaneously thrilled and awed by the inner thought processes of the life partner he’d been blessed with. “But I suspect we’ll need a great deal of practice, don’t you?”
“What a tragedy that your…enthusiasm…and your power increase seems to have had no effect whatsoever on your abysmal brewing abilities,” Snape interjected snidely.
Dumbledore sighed. “Severus, please…”
Aidan smirked to himself. Just wait until he mastered this animagus gig. He would recruit Fawkes, Hedwig, and as many of the postal owls as he could. Together, they would ingest every bubotuber berry they could find, after which a certain professor would experience a “fly over” he would never forget.
That incident with the quills would seem like the mere spitting of a gnat in comparison.
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Author’s notes: For those readers unfamiliar with Northern Cardinals, visit the site listed below:
http://www.birds.cornell.edu/AllAboutBirds/BirdGuide/Northern_Cardinal.html#description
*Suscito vines: Entirely my own invention. The Latin word suscito means “excite.” I was picturing some sort of vine like Devil’s Snare that, instead of strangulation, causes sexual excitement and lust.
Author's Chapter Notes:
As always, not my characters or universe. No money, profit, or fame is being garnered by me. The only one I own is Aidan, and truthfully, he's the one who owns me!!!
Thanks to Wolfiekins and Koshweasley for their expert and thorough beta work.