Angels and Devils

Chapter 07/10 Consequences

Opening his eyes, Harry found himself looking at a set of long sharp nails only millimetres from his face. He moved his hand to get rid of the blockage to his vision at which point his brain caught up with the fact that it was not his hand. He was suddenly very aware that he was not alone and there was another person curled up behind him with their arm thrown over his side; memories of wild, uncontrolled sex flooded into his mind. He groaned, partly because he realised that despite everyone's best efforts he and Draco, Malfoy he mentally corrected himself, had inescapably done the deed, and partly because the remembered arousal caused him to move and he discovered there were consequences to their sex marathon. Harry had aches where he had barely realised he had body parts before.

He lay still for few moments trying to figure out what to do. The urgent need to have sex and have sex now seemed to be completely gone, which was good, and he also didn't feel any more inclined to like Malfoy than he had before, which was kind of good because it meant his brain was not addled, but kind of bad because his Gryffindor sensibilities told him that you didn't have sex unless you at least liked the person. Harry was a believer that sex and love went together, but he seemed to have failed on that count all together.

Since he could not avoid looking at the hand that was in front of his face it also slowly dawned on him that the reason he had mistaken it for his own hand was that the nails really did look familiar. The annoying point his mind kept trying to make known was that he did not remember Malfoy having nails like that. Harry had memorised the Slytherin quite well and Malfoy had definitely had short, neatly manicured nails on the end of his long, aristocratic fingers. The hand he was looking at had the same fingers, but they were not Malfoy's normal nails.

That was the point where Harry began to worry and eventually he extracted himself from under the stray arm and moved away from the warm body behind him. His companion groaned once, but made no further sound and after sitting up over the edge of the bed Harry gained the courage to stand up and turn around. Malfoy was lying on his side, but tilted towards his front now that Harry had moved, and there were two iridescent ridges running down the Slytherin's back, below his shoulder blades, with small rivulets of dried blood coming from them.

Harry suddenly found it difficult to breathe and he had to sit back down and concentrate to pull enough air into his lungs. This was just so far out of what he had expected that he did not know how to deal with it.

"Potter?" the confused, sleepy enquiry came from next to him and he turned sharply.

What was he supposed to say? 'Malfoy, about your species, it just changed.' For a moment Harry panicked.

"Why do you look like someone just died?" the Slytherin propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at himself rapidly.

After a quick inspection Malfoy appeared reassured by what he saw and then glanced back at Harry.

"I'm pretty sure we escaped the five percent," Malfoy actually sounded completely unconcerned by the fact that he had just slept with his worst enemy. "Please don't tell me you're worried that I won't respect you anymore."

The Slytherin still hadn't noticed that he was not quite the same and if Malfoy was feeling anything like Harry was, he couldn't blame him for being unobservant, but that didn't change the facts and the joke fell dead.

"Tell me that I didn't manage to impregnate you," Malfoy said and a slight edge of panic threatened in his voice.

Harry shook his head quickly, but reached out and took hold of his companion's hand and pulled it up level with his face.

"We didn't create a baby," he said as calmly as he could, "but we did create another Seraphim."

Malfoy stared at his hand blankly for a moment and then he sat up properly and brought his other hand round. After that his arm snaked up behind him and touched the bottom edge of one of his wing nubs. Harry was not sure what his companion was thinking.

"You made me like you," the Slytherin's tone was half awe, half accusation.

"I didn't do it on my own," Harry said hotly, even as guilt settled firmly on his shoulders. "Think about it and I'm sure you'll remember the moment."

It was all too clear to him now, he could recall the moment their magic had reached out and joined together with perfect detail. Veela had touched Seraphim and known it was not quite what was needed. He remembered his power reaching out and changing Malfoy's magic and body until they were perfectly compatible and he remembered the Slytherin opening himself to the whole thing. When this had happened they had both wanted it, it was only now in the cold light of day that they realised what they had done.

When Malfoy looked back at him, Harry knew that the Slytherin remembered as well and they sat there in silence for a long time. This was not a simple transfiguration, this was a fundamental alteration: Malfoy was no longer Veela; he was Seraphim.

"This doesn't change anything," the Slytherin said suddenly and climbed off the bed, "I can keep this a secret as easily as I did the Veela thing. Cut my nails and make sure no one sees me without a shirt and they'll never know."

As if to illustrate his point Malfoy reached for one of the garments strewn on the floor and picked it up. After a moment he held it up so that Harry could see it and straight through it, as the large rents in it became obvious.

"We need some more clothes," Malfoy observed and Harry became suddenly uncomfortably aware that he was completely naked.

It didn't seem to bother his companion in the slightest, but now that clothes had been mentioned Harry found himself irrationally embarrassed.

"Pink is not your colour, Potter," the Slytherin said with a smirk. "I will never understand Gryffindors: after what we did you're worried about being naked."

"I wasn't thinking then, I was doing," Harry replied, but stood up anyway. "Doesn't this bother you at all?"

Malfoy grinned at him in a very superior manner.

"I had nightmares of waking up pregnant or so thoroughly warped by a magical bond that I couldn't remember my own name," the Slytherin replied. "Instead I have memories of the most incredible sex of my life; I admit to being impressed, Potter; and a significant power boost if what I've read about Seraphim is anything to go by. I will not claim that I would not have preferred to avoid the whole situation in the first place, but it's over and now we can go on with our lives. What is there to be bothered about?"

Harry had a whole list, the top of which was to do with the fact that he had just lost his virginity to a boy who didn't care for him at all, but he was not about to mention that. Right under that there was the niggling idea that maybe he didn't want to just go on with his life, but he wasn't about to mention that either. When Malfoy moved to the door and opened it so he could peer out, Harry moved to join him.

The first thing Harry noticed was that there were screens across the doorway and the second was that there were two robes hanging on their side of the screens.

"Madame Pomfrey thinks of everything," Malfoy said far more cheerfully than Harry felt there was any call for, and then his companion was through the door and reaching for the nearest robe.

What happened next rather shocked Harry as Malfoy picked up the second robe and handed it to him. It was an entirely unconscious gesture, Harry was sure of it, and he did not think the Slytherin would have done it had he been thinking. Slytherins and Gryffindors did not help each other, ever.

"Thank you," Harry said quietly, hoping not to break the truce they appeared to have.

He managed to get over his shock pretty rapidly as Malfoy then went to move one of the screens without giving him a chance to put on the robe, which was a much more normal course of events, and Harry had to hurry before his nakedness was revealed to the world. Struggling to belt the soft, warm material he padded after the confident Slytherin and prayed that there would not be a pack of spectators waiting for them.

In fact the Hospital wing was surprisingly empty until Poppy appeared from the direction of her office. She had obviously had a monitor spell on the door. Her eyes met Harry's and he could barely look at her, but she smiled at him sadly, giving him her support which helped a little.

"Good afternoon, Gentlemen," Poppy said in her usual professional tone, "welcome back. It's been three days in case you were wondering."

Malfoy appeared slightly ill-at-ease at Poppy's approach, and Harry could only assume that the Slytherin had expected at least some recriminations. That was never Poppy's way at all, so Malfoy did not know the healer as well as he thought he did, obviously.

"Well don't just stand there," Poppy said efficiently, "come and sit down so I can take a look at you. We need to make sure neither has done the other a mischief."

Harry might have laughed at her turn of phrase if what they had managed to do to Malfoy hadn't leapt to the forefront of his mind. Instead he followed the Slytherin across the room and dutifully sat on the bed that was indicated.

"What an interesting way you have of expressing yourself, Madame Pomfrey," Malfoy said, for some reason at his most charming, "so refreshing."

Then the Slytherin held out his hands so that Poppy could see his nails.

"Potter has pulled one out of the back again," Malfoy continued in the most annoyingly chatty way. "Nothing as mundane as a male pregnancy for Potter, no, he changed my sub-species for me."

"I did not do it on my own," Harry reiterated through gritted teeth, "you helped."

Right about then his human side was almost dominant enough to want to strangle the smug bastard. Malfoy really did not seem to care in the slightest; the Slytherin had woken up not pregnant and that was all that seemed important to him.

"An unusual state of affairs," Poppy said evenly, "but if you do not mind, Mr Malfoy, I would rather see for myself than take your word for it. Hold still, this may tickle a little."

Malfoy smirked, but did as he was told.

Poppy cast her spells on the Slytherin, then on Harry (they did tickle) and then moved back to Malfoy again. By the time she was satisfied, Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape had entered the room. Harry did his best to try and ignore the glare the head of Slytherin was sending in his direction; if he had not been feeling so guilty he might have done a better job.

Eventually Poppy turned slightly so that she could see everyone in the room.

"No serious injuries," she said succinctly, "and none of the expected side effects."

For a moment Harry actually saw a look of relief cross Snape's face before it was hidden with the usual glower, and Professor McGonagall looked as if someone had just told her she's won the Ministry lottery. Even the twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes seemed to brighten.

"That is wonderful news, Poppy," the headmaster said in his usual fashion, "however, I fear there may be a reason for the qualification of your diagnosis."

Poppy nodded and gave Malfoy a quick glance while Harry tried to look as inconspicuous as possible.

"Mr Malfoy has gone through a rather radical, biological change," Poppy explained calmly. "Although the alterations are not as obvious as Mr Potter's, thanks to Mr Malfoy pre-existing Veela heritage, he is now, for all intents and purposes, Seraphim."

Even Dumbledore appeared surprised.

"Well, well, Potter," Snape said, recovering first and using his most scathing tone, "it seems you have surpassed yourself."

Harry did not even bother to try and point out he did not do it alone, Snape would never have believed him anyway and he just could not find the energy. They may have only woken up minutes ago, but Harry was still tired, and he really did not want to deal with this now.

"Now, now, Severus," Dumbledore said pleasantly, "there is no point in casting blame. We shall just have to deal with the situation as it stands. I'm sure Mr Malfoy appreciates the advantages of his current change as well as the disadvantages."

Malfoy, being the epitome of a Slytherin inclined his head at this; it seemed he and the headmaster understood each other as far as Harry could tell.

"I am sure arrangement can be made to allow life to continue as before," Dumbledore continued, "and I assume, Mr Malfoy, you would prefer this information remain confidential."

"That would be satisfactory, Professor, yes, thank you," Malfoy replied.

It seemed that when the Slytherin was in control of a situation he could be very diplomatic.

"Good, good," the headmaster said with more enthusiasm than Harry thought he could ever muster up again, "then I believe we are almost back to normal. Poppy, do you require Mr Potter or Mr Malfoy to stay under your tender care this evening?"

"No, Headmaster," Poppy replied after a moment's thought. "There are some potions they should take, but once that is done they may go."

Dumbledore virtually beamed at that and Harry felt like banging his head against a wall.

"Thank you, Poppy," the headmaster confirmed with a nod before turning to look at Harry and Malfoy. "Well, boys, I asked Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape to bring you both some of your clothes when we were alerted to your return to us, so I have no doubts that everything will be shipshape in no time."

Intelligent blue eyes met Harry's for a moment and he could see the sympathy there, but Dumbledore did not voice it. Now was obviously not the time, so Harry sucked in his guilt and his anxiety and nodded as if he agreed. As Professor McGonagall pulled a small bundle from her pocket and restored it to normal size he tried to look on the bright side. At least neither of them was pregnant.

====

Harry was in a bit of a daze and he did not realise that he was not being led back to Gryffindor tower or the headmaster's office until they were in an entirely different part of the castle all together. Poppy had fussed over him for nearly an hour before she would let him go, despite what she had told Dumbledore before so he had had plenty of time to tie his mind in knots. By the time he looked up and took notice of where the headmaster was taking him he was somewhere he didn't even recognise.

"Where are we, Professor?" he asked, somewhat confused.

Several nasty possibilities about consequences and the like popped into his head, but when Dumbledore turned, the headmaster gave him a reassuring smile.

"These are the guest quarters, My Boy" Dumbledore told him in his usually light tone; "there is someone who wishes to see you."

That sent Harry's thoughts into a thousand more questioning spirals, but the way the headmaster was acting he did not think this was anything bad. Dumbledore knocked on one of the doors and was greeted by a familiar 'come in'. Harry was at once incredibly pleased and horribly nervous and it was with trepidation that he walked into the room behind the headmaster, knowing that Remus Lupin was inside. Remus would never be Sirius, but since his godfather's death Harry and the werewolf had become close, exchanging letters often, the last one being only a few days before the latest debacle in Harry's life. Harry had also spent a large part of the summer holidays in Remus' company as the ex-Professor helped him catch up on his school work.

The guest room was quite large with a double four poster, a writing desk and two large arm chairs by the fireplace. Remus was standing beside one of the chairs as if he had just climbed out of it. When Sirius had died he had left Remus a substantial amount of money; the werewolf had not touched it until after the war ended, but these days, he looked anything but the poor teacher Harry had known back in his third year.

Since Voldemort's defeat, the issue of creature rights had been at the front of Ministry policy, and Remus was now head of a special committee dealing with changing the laws. They didn't pay him, but these days he didn't need the money and Harry knew Remus was doing what he was passionate about.

"Harry," the werewolf said as soon as he laid eyes on him, "I've been so worried. How are you feeling?"

Remus crossed the room in a couple of strides and gently placed a hand on Harry's shoulder; Harry found it very difficult to look at his friend.

"Tired and hungry," Harry admitted quietly, although he really felt like running for the door so he didn't have to face this now.

He wanted to confide in Remus, he wanted to talk, but he felt so confused that he did not know how.

"Well, having delivered Harry safe and sound, I'll leave you two to yourselves," Dumbledore said brightly. "If you need anything do not hesitate to call."

And with that the headmaster was gone, leaving Harry in a quandary as to what he could possible say to Remus. What were they supposed to talk about? Last time he had seem Remus, Harry had been 5'6'', skinny boy with no wings and definitely no sex life to speak of; now he was over six foot tall and his sexual exploits were undoubtedly being published all over the school. It was all so embarrassing and difficult to deal with.

"Harry," Remus said gently and pulled his chin up so that Harry could no longer stare at the floor and had to look the werewolf in the eye.

It was with a start that Harry realised he was now taller than his companion.

"Whatever you are thinking; you have nothing to be ashamed of," Remus told him firmly.

It was what Harry needed to hear, but part of him did not believe it; this was all his fault after all. If he had not touched Malfoy none of this would have happened and the whole school wouldn't know he had slept with his worst enemy and enjoyed it. That was probably the thing that confused him the most; he was aghast at what they had done, but he couldn't say that he had hated it. Every time he let his mind wander back over his time with Malfoy part of him was filled with such joy that it was breathtaking.

"I couldn't stop it," he said quietly, not knowing how else to begin.

Remus did not hesitate and Harry found himself pulled into a warm hug.

"I know, Harry," the older wizard told him as he embraced him, "I understand."

It was only then that Harry realised Remus was one of the few people who probably did truly understand, after all, before the Wolfsbane potion Remus had been at the mercy of wolf instincts every full moon. Harry still didn't know how to express what he was feeling, but he no longer felt alone.

"Let's go and sit down," Remus said with a small smile as they separated. "The house elves will be bringing some food soon and you look as if you're about to fall down."

Harry even managed a rather wan smile back.

Fifteen minutes later he had a large mug of hot chocolate and a plate full of sandwiches in front of him, and he was so hungry that however his mind was churning, his stomach was quite ready to eat. His life just before Voldemort had died had given him the ability to fill his stomach no matter what dreadful thoughts his brain was focussing on, and he tucked in to the food now.

"Before we talk about anything else," Remus said gently but firmly, "I want to make one thing very clear; you have done nothing wrong. No matter what Snape would like you to believe this is not your fault."

"But..." Harry tried to protest.

"You saved Draco Malfoy's life," Remus was not having and of it; "that you managed to kick start a perfectly natural metabolic process in both of you has more to do with the fact that wizards and witches seem completely unable to keep their hands off humanoid magical creatures, than anything wrong anyone might think you have done."

The werewolf paused and looked Harry straight in the eye.

"It's alright to be angry," Remus told him earnestly, "it's alright to be unhappy, it's alright to be confused, but the one thing I will not let you do is blame this all on yourself. Look what happened last time when you did that."

That managed to bring a small smile to Harry's face; the fact that there had been no big final battle for the war and that Harry had gone off on his own and done exactly what the prophecy said had miffed some people and scared the hell out of others. That Remus could now joke about it showed how far they had both come. Suddenly Harry felt as though he was going to burst and the need to talk became unstoppable.

"It's so bizarre," he said honestly, "I mean before ... I'd never ... it's not like I ever..."

Words were still a little difficult to find even if he wanted to find them now.

"Malfoy was your first?" Remus enquired tactfully.

Harry nodded.

"I never even thought about boys at all until I was suddenly fixated on one," he admitted, "and the furthest I got with any girl was a kiss. In sixth year I was so mixed up that most people stayed well away from me, and this year, until the whole growth spurt thing, I know for a fact that I was relegated to brother by every single Gryffindor female. Then suddenly almost the whole school is looking at me like I'm lunch and I fixate on the one person least likely to want anything to do with me."

By this time he was gesticulating so much with his hands that a piece of tomato from his sandwich went flying across the room and landed with a splat next to the fireplace. That rather stopped him mid flow and that took his mixed up thoughts that one step further into absurdity and he was helpless to stop the snort of laughter that escaped him. Remus had also seen the humour in the event since he was wearing a rather understated smile when Harry looked at him.

"It must all have been incredibly confusing," the werewolf said sympathetically.

"Well I've thrown a couple of tantrums which helped," Harry replied causing another smile from his friend; "Hermione helped out with one and Professor McGonagall spent two hours trying to talk me out of the seventh year boy's dorm after the other. That one was the most satisfying."

"Minerva told me about that one," Remus acknowledged, "I believe her exacts words were, 'and if that boy ever decided to do anything truly bad we'd all be in very deep trouble'; she's very worried about you."

"I doubt she's very pleased that I managed to shag a Slytherin," the words sounded far more bitter than Harry had intended and he found himself staring at the fire, all good humour gone.

In the hospital wing with Slytherins present his head of House had been virtually unreadable, but Harry was almost sure she would be disappointed in him.

"Harry," Remus said patiently, "Professor McGonagall, like everyone else is not worried about anything like that. She's worried about you and how this will affect you. You've been through so much already, and this on top must be very hard."

Harry sat back in his chair contemplating his hot chocolate for a while, and his companion let him think in silence. It was difficult to explain anything when he really didn't know how he felt himself.

"He was so matter of fact about it," he found himself saying eventually, "as if it wasn't important at all. Did they tell you what happened, how we made him like me?"

Remus nodded, which Harry found a blessing.

"Professor McGonagall told me when she came to tell me you were awake," his friend explained. "It seems Albus thought I should be briefed."

For that Harry was very grateful because he knew he could not keep this secret from Remus.

"He said that what we'd done didn't change anything," he continued, "that it was great sex, but that was all. I can't think of it like that and I definitely can't feel about it like that. I know he's going to go back to Slytherin and make fun of the whole thing."

"I'm sorry, Harry," Remus said kindly, "I really am. You shouldn't have had to find out like this, but some people just see sex as a game, a way to find temporary pleasure. I know you, Harry, and you're just like your mum; you should have heard your father swear when she made him wait. You had the choice taken away from you, and it must be terribly hard, but there will be others..."

At those words Harry could not help but grimace and Remus stopped mid sentence. The shudder that ran through him at the idea of others was indescribable.

"Harry, these feelings won't last forever," Remus tried again. "I know that now you probably can't believe it, but Malfoy is not the beginning and end of the relationships you will have."

"But I can't even think about anyone else," Harry protested desperately. "The desire to pin him to the nearest available surface is gone, but I can't get him out of my head. It's like he's sitting behind my eyes."

"You feel everything deeply, Harry," Remus said supportively, "but these feelings will fade. You have overloaded Seraphim hormones to deal with as well, but eventually it will get better."

Harry wanted to believe his friend, and he realised when looking into Remus' earnest gaze that the werewolf was sure of what he was saying, but he also knew in that instant that no matter what other ways Remus might be able to empathise with him, in this the werewolf did not truly understand. Part of Harry knew that he was lost, and no matter the words or platitudes, he was lost forever. Taking another sandwich he smiled weakly at Remus and nodded slightly even though he did not agree.

End of Chapter 7