Anita Blake/Harry Potter Ficlets
TITLE: New Life I: Desperate Measures
AUTHOR: 38gnihsurc
PAIRING: Harry/Cherry, Anita/Asher
RATING: a soft en.sea.xvii
SPOILERS: Incubus Dreams for AB, nothing really for HP... maybe HBP.
He knew he should have been concerned that he was doing things he would never have considered doing in front of anyone he considered a friend---with some people he considered friends---but desperate times called for desperate measures, and Anita's ardeur rising before a very important zombie raising was definitely a desperate time.
He could see Hermione's startled, wide eyes and her flushed cheeks. Her expression was an interesting contrast to Ron's expression. His eyes were downcast and his face was so pale that his freckles stood out like tiny, dark pebbles on a white sand beach. Remus looked depressed, as if he was thinking 'the Boy Who Lived has been reduced to nothing but disposable plumbing.' Snape was the only one who looked intrigued by the events unfolding in front of him, in the graveyard of Godric's Hollow.
He dropped his head and pressed his lips to Cherry's, tasting her dark lipstick when his tongue brushed out and caressed her. Her whimper was low, sexy but still eager sounding; she had become a vessel for her Nimir-Ra's metaphysical desire and Harry had become the spoon that was stirring it.
"Close," she purred, her dark eyes turning from human eyes to her leopard eyes. "God, so close..."
Damian crawled closer to them, his free hand reaching for Cherry's hand. His other hand was busy holding onto Anita's hand; while he usually calmed her, the ardeur had raised unexpectedly, and they were too concerned with creating links back to Anita so she could feed as fully as possible.
Harry knew the plan. Asher was underneath Anita and he would bite her when their pleasure reached its apex, creating a fresh wave of pleasure with his bite. Damian would hold Cherry's hand while he fed from Harry's shoulder. They hoped, while formulating their quickly-put-together plan, that the pleasure and feeding would satisfy the metaphysical plague that she and Jean-Claude carried.
Damian's bite hurt, but it didn't bother Harry. A part of him knew that he liked a little pain mixed with pleasure; with the ardeur riding them all, a little of pain wouldn't have slowed his desire down anyway.
His cry filled the air and joined the others' pleasurable sounds.
The metaphysical warmth receded from his body. Cherry guided him down to his body and held him close while Damian lapped at the bite mark on his neck.
"You okay?" she asked, her voice still low as a quiet purr settled into her throat.
Harry nodded and kissed her jaw. "Yes... you?"
"Very," she whispered huskily.
"Ma cherie?" Asher whispered near Anita's ear. "Has it passed?"
The black-haired woman was slumped against his body, her hand still in Damian's hand. She nodded and tucked her forehead against Asher's shoulder.
"Yeah," she breathed, "I'm okay." She released Damian's hand and reached for Harry's shoulder. "Hey," she said, her dark eyes focused upon him.
He looked up into her eyes, her eyes that were asking a lot of questions. He had been Asher's pomme de sang while he was studying in St. Louis, he had been Anita's blood sacrifice for several of her Animators, Inc. zombie raisings, and he had helped out behind the scenes at Guilty Pleasures---so he had a good idea of what questions were forming in Anita's mind.
Instead of waiting for her to talk, he smiled lazily at her. "I'm fine," he assured her.
"Your friends aren't," Cherry whispered.
"You guys are my friends, too," he replied. He tried to push himself up, but he was still too drugged from the afterglow to succeed. Cherry chuckled at his antics until he nipped at the underside of her jaw. "God, I can't move," he moaned.
Asher's chuckle was deeper than the female wereleopard's laugh, and it made Harry shiver. "Ma cherie is a very passionate lover, even at a distance," he said teasingly.
Anita nudged his shoulder. "Why do I put up with you?"
"Because you love me," he reminded her.
Harry smiled at them and then he turned his attention to Cherry. She smiled at him. He thought she looked sexier than she did earlier in the evening---with her black makeup smudged around her eyes, and her dark lipstick blurred around her lips---but he didn't say anything about that.
Instead, he brushed his fingers through her short, blonde hair, and whispered, "I'm gonna lie here for another minute, and then I'm gonna look for my trousers."
She laughed and nodded. "Okay," she whispered back.
"And then... maybe we could start the ritual?" Nathaniel asked as he approached the group of people, carrying Anita's zombie raising bag.
&&&&
TITLE: New Life II: The Aftermath
AUTHOR: 38gnishurc
PAIRING: Anita/Nathaniel, no one else, really.
RATING: pea.gee.xiii
SPOILERS: New Life I.
When he heard the door open, he looked up immediately towards the sound.
Everyone else from the Wizarding World had been celebrating Lord Voldemort's demise; Number Twelve Grimmauld Place had never seen such excitement.
Harry wanted to do nothing but sleep since his nightmare was finally over. Luckily for him, Cherry, Nathaniel, and Anita had been thinking similar thoughts. So, when the vampires went to their coffins, Harry, Anita, and the wereleopards curled up in bed.
He was used to sharing a bed with Jason, since the werewolf had practically taken Harry under his wing once he moved into the space underneath the Circus of the Damned, once he had earned the trust of everyone important in St. Louis. Wolf smelled differently than leopard even though he couldn't explain with the difference was; however, it was still familiar and still very comforting. Perfect for conjuring up a deep sleep that lasted hours and hours.
Ron's eyes widened when Harry propped himself up, rising from in between Nathaniel and Cherry. No one was wearing clothes; everyone was touching. Apparently, it was too much for the redhead to process.
Harry lifted a hand and mouthed 'One minute.' Ron nodded and disappeared.
He sighed. He had had trouble accepting the weird and wonderful ways of the vampires and lycanthropes at first. But, he wanted to study magical power and he wanted to convince Anita to help him destroy Voldemort; he didn't expect that he would find a home as well.
No one accused him of being different in St. Louis. (Well, the cops did, once, when he had been with Jason and Nathaniel when a convenience store just happened to be robbed. But, Anita rescued them, and everything had been fine. Since then, he avoided law enforcement whenever he could; being at the Circus for Asher helped with that.) He had always believed that Hogwarts was his home. But, students and professors had treated him differently than the other students; he always stood out to some degree. Even Ron and Hermione contributed to that at times. In St. Louis, with his new circle of friends, no one thought he was odd because there was always someone odder. Oddness seemed to be embraced in that city. There were vampires and lycanthropes and witches and... and everything. And Anita's circle had accepted him.
He learned that sleeping naked in a group of people wasn't about sex---although he had had a few improper thoughts about Nathaniel, and feeding Anita's ardeur with Cherry had been almost like having one of his fantasies fulfilled---but about comfort. He learned that practicality could come in many forms---so what's a little blood or sex?---and he stopped worrying about what others thought about him.
"You okay?"
He looked down into Cherry's eyes. He sighed again and nodded. "Ron---"
"Needs to talk to you," she finished. "I can smell him outside the door." She rubbed her face against Harry's arm. "He smells afraid."
"Of you?"
"Of you," she murmured.
"Well... that's ridiculous."
"You raised a lot of power last night," she said, referring to the final battle, "and he's wary of that. And other things."
"Other things," Harry echoed, while motioning over the bed with one hand.
She chuckled softly. Nathaniel growled. "Be quiet," he mumbled, not opening his lilac eyes.
"Sorry," Harry whispered, reaching down and petting the top of his auburn head. "I'm leaving soon."
"Kay," the sleepy male replied as he snuggled up to Anita.
Cherry smiled at Harry. "Go talk to him," she insisted. "They'll be more awake later... to feed, and we can talk then."
Harry impulsively leaned down and kissed her forehead. He liked Cherry, especially as a friend and 'sounding board.' Once they shared another smile, he slowly made his way off of the bed and grabbed some clothes.
A few seconds later, he was stepping out into the hall and tugging a button-up shirt on over his shoulders. Ron was staring at him with serious eyes.
"What's up?"
"Just like that?" Ron asked. "'What's up?'"
Harry shrugged. "Yeah," he replied. "You want to talk?"
"We haven't seen you since we left Godric's Hollow," Ron said, shrugging, too, as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "You missed a lot of the party."
"I'm knackered," he explained. "All I want to do is sleep, Ron."
"With three other people?"
"It's comfortable," Harry said quietly. "It's not about shagging. It's about comfort. Lycanthropes sleep together and touch a lot because they like to comfort each other, because they're socially structured in packs."
"Are you... a werewolf?"
Harry smiled and shook his head. "No, but I've been around 'em enough to get used to how they do things."
"You just left... and you're like a different person," Ron said quietly, in an accusatory tone of voice. "A completely different person, Harry. We were supposed to go off together. And you just bolted. No one knew where you were. And now, you shag in public and sleep in piles and---"
"That was an emergency," Harry muttered in a dismissive tone of voice. "Anita has this thing... she got it from Jean-Claude. A vampire. And when she doesn't take care of it... it flares up. Badly."
Ron didn't say anything at first. He studied Harry carefully with his eyes for a few minutes and then he said, "You've been vampire-food. For this John Clod guy?"
"Asher."
"Merlin..." Ron breathed and shook his head. "What's wrong with you?"
"For the first time, in a long time, nothing," Harry replied, smiling and shrugging. He sighed when he saw Ron's disgusted facial expression. "Look, I can't explain my new life to you, except to say that it works for me. My magic is under control and I have a safe place to live, and... and I don't mind doing the things I'm doing. I wish I could explain to you what changed and when it changed, but... I don't have those answers for you." Any trace of a smile disappeared when he reached out to touch Ron, when Ron flinched in reaction to the contact. "I wanted to write letters to you and Hermione every day, but I didn't want anyone intercepting the owls."
"Like who? My mum?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged again. "Like... anyone. If a Death Eater got a hold of it, Voldemort would've known where I was and what I was up to. And, I don't know what would have happened if your mum or dad read the letters... but I'm afraid they would have tried to get me to leave St. Louis."
"And that would've been so bad?"
"It was Anita Blake's zombies that helped us turn the tide against them," Harry reminded his friend.
Ron ducked his head slightly. "Yeah... fair enough," the redhead admitted. He blushed as he lifted his head up. "You know... you're not wearing your kit, y'know?"
Harry looked down at what he was wearing. He saw that he had grabbed Nathaniel's clothes on his way to the bedroom door. He didn't blush or make excuses; he and Jason shared a room, their clothes, and their lives for months. Sharing clothes---except for the items that had been tailored for each of them, gifts from the vampires---was commonplace.
"Oh." He shrugged. "Oh well... I'm gonna lie down again, so they won't be on long. Nathaniel won't mind."
Ron's laugh was tight and nervous. "You hang out with a weird crew."
"I'm pretty weird, too, Ron," Harry said, smiling before he ducked back inside the bedroom.
With the door closed, he started taking the clothes off as he made his way towards the bed. Cherry opened her eyes and reached out for him, before Nathaniel opened his eyes and brushed a few long strands of hair out of his eyes.
"Purple looks good on you," Nathaniel commented. "Makes your eyes brighter or something."
Harry snorted softly and padded over to the bed, eager to slide back into his spot between the two warm bodies. Once he was settled, Nathaniel lifted one leg over both of his; Cherry draped her arm over his torso. He sighed happily and snuggled up to his friends.
"Feel better?" Cherry asked.
He nodded, keeping his eyes open to look at the wereleopard. "I don't think Ron does... but I do."
She smiled and brushed her nose and lips over his shoulder. "Go back to sleep," she whispered, "and we'll talk after everything settles in your mind."
"Thanks," Harry whispered before closing his eyes.
&&&&
TITLE: New Life III: Pleasure
AUTHOR: 38gnihsurc
PAIRING: Harry/Jason
RATING: arr
SPOILERS: New Life I, II
Asher and Jean-Claude liked to feed together. Jason and Harry preferred that; they preferred to hold hands and let the different types of pleasure wash over them as the vampires fed off of their blood.
Sometimes, Harry heard Hermione's frustrated voice in his head---before he took his emerald green robe off, before he crawled onto the large bed.
"Honestly, Harry... you can't be someone's food forever! What will you do? How are you going to support yourself? Will this Asher guy just pay for your flat until you grow old and die?"
It had been two years since Voldemort's death, since he left Number Twelve Grimmauld Place with the others on Jean-Claude's private jet. In those two years, he became Asher's permanent pomme de sang and a resident of the space under the Circus of the Damned. He was cherished; then, he was loved with his relationship with Jason developed to a point that consumed them both.
Just looking at Jason made his temperature spike. He opened his eyes during their evening feeding and felt a surge of lust that wasn't Asher's doing. It was his own for the young werewolf. He moaned and rocked against Asher; he tightened his grip on Jason's hand.
And the pleasure of it all washed over him.
&&&&
TITLE: Acceptance
AUTHOR: 38gnihsurc
PAIRING: Hermione/Richard
RATING: pea.gee.xiii
SPOILERS: Nothing really specific for either series.
Hermione looked up when she saw Richard's body shadowed against the window of her bedroom. She stifled a yawn and rolled onto her side; her quiet noises tore his attention away from the outside world and caused him to look back at her.
"Did I wake you?"
She shook her head, her chestnut curls tumbling over her shoulder. "No," she whispered, reaching out for him. "What were you doing at the window?"
"They needed help," he explained quietly, admitting more than he wanted to. Hermione knew about his part in a triumverate of power and she accepted it; she loved Richard since she walked into the lunapar and became a part of the Thronnos Rokke Clan, and she would have done anything to have him in her life.
She slid her hand over his arm and over his shoulder, savouring the feel of the muscles and raw power underneath his skin. Even since she became a lycanthrope, she knew she was no match for Richard in a fight. But, she didn't expect that they would ever have a physical fight; he tried to protect her more than anything else.
After kissing his temple, she slid her face into his hair, which was growing longer and longer, much to her approval. She inhaled deeply and smelled his wolf under his skin. Richard growled softly and pulled her against his body.
"Are you too sore?" he asked, his polite man an interesting contrast to his wild beast.
"I healed," she whispered, turning her head so she could meet his eyes. His brown eyes had bled to amber; she shivered and licked her lips. "And I always want more of you," she added in a tender voice.
"Why do you accept me so easily?" he asked, the amber fading from his eyes. "Is it just because---"
Hermione cupped his face in her hands and kissed him, effectively cutting him off. "You're Ulfric, and I respect that," she murmured as she lifted her lips from his, "but that's not why I love you."
Richard's eyes widened. "You... love me?"
She blushed. "Can't help it," she whispered, shrugging. "I love you... the man, the beast." She paused and smoothed her hands over his hair. "I'm just lucky to have these few nights with you." She smiled sadly and shrugged. "I knew the score when I accepted your first offer."
"And you still... went along with it?"
"A little bit of you is always better than none of you at all," Hermione reasoned.
His eyes softened. "Hermione..."
"Shh," she whispered, sliding her hands down over his strong neck. "Just kiss me, alright?"
Richard nodded and pressed his lips to hers.
&&&&
TITLE: Safe and Sound
AUTHOR: 38gnihsurc
PAIRING: None.
RATING: pea.gee
SPOILERS: None, really
Hermione looked up when she saw the petite, black haired woman march up to the space in front of the silver door with the small window. She could barely hear anything over the rushing of her pulse, the blood racing through her veins, the beast threatening to burst out of her body, but she could hear words like "barbaric" and "illegal" and phrases like "open the door" and "she's my responsibility."
By the time Anita stepped inside the small room of the safe house, Hermione was crying in relief. The other woman was close enough so she could wrap her arms around Anita's legs; she hugged her lower half and pressed her face into Anita's stomach.
"Thank you, Nimir-Ra," Hermione sobbed, over and over.
"Nathaniel told me what happened," she whispered, dropping down to her knees. "Are you okay?"
She shook her head. "Someone put something in my drink... and... and it made me want to shift." She shuddered as she remembered the drug coursing through her system. "The cops shot me and brought me here before I could call the coalition's hotline." She paused and added, "Thank god, Nathaniel was coming to meet me for a drink, anyway."
"It's still in your system," Anita commented.
Hermione sniffled and nodded. Anita wasn't good at giving comfort, but Hermione didn't care; it felt so good to not be isolated in the scary room with silver walls.
"Let's get you home, okay?" Anita murmured. "Micah's in the car. We'll keep you safe until you get to the house."
The brunette nodded and pushed her matted curls back off of her face as she sat back on the floor. "Thank you," she whispered.
"You're one of ours," the other woman reminded her. "No one gets left behind."
&&&&
TITLE: More Than a One Night Stand
AUTHOR: 38gnishurc
PAIRING: Hermione/Damian
RATING: arr
SPOILERS: None, really.
She laughed quietly as the red haired vampire drew his arms around her and helped her sway to the music that played in Danse Macabre, one of the hottest clubs in the Blood District. She knew the law would keep her safe; plus, something about the vampire that held her told her she would be safe. His eyes were the eyes of hunters, but they weren't ruthless; desire flared behind his green eyes, more than hunger, more than bloodlust. She slid her hands up his cold chest and rocked her body against his.
"What is your name?"
After tilting her head up so she could look at him, she smiled and murmured, "Hermione."
He smiled but didn't flash his fangs. "I am Damian."
"Nice to... dance with you," she said, leaning up to whisper in his ear over the loud, sensual music.
"You are an angel, Hermione," he told her.
"I'm many things," she said softly, "but angel isn't one of them."
"We all suffer in many ways," he told her after kissing her knuckles. "Don't think that you are any less heavenly."
He continued to treat her as if she were an angel, despite her protests that she wasn't. She had gone to America to escape, to flee her previous life and the ghosts in the halls of Hogwarts; angels didn't run away or let the demons chase them out of a country.
Even in his basement bedroom, he cradled her close. She gave him permission to feed from her neck, and then he held her quietly; she guessed he had seen things from her mind while he fed from her blood, because he seemed less jovial than he had at the club.
"You deserve to be cherished," he whispered into her unruly hair.
She sighed and turned to look at him. "I survived," she whispered, "that doesn't mean I am---"
"It does," he insisted, cupping her face in his hand which was warmer than it had been at Danse Macabre. He pressed his lips to hers and seduced her into a kiss and so much more.
She had only had sex twice---with a teenaged boyfriend whose name brought tears to her eyes---but nothing compared to the feeling of having a man holding her close as he pushed his way inside of her body. She moaned and threaded her fingers through Damian's hair; she shivered when he licked the wound on her neck.
"Take more," she whispered, looking into his eyes as she rocked her body in time with the rhythm his had initiated. "I know you want to."
"Hermione... I could not---"
"I want to make you happy," she insisted.
"And I want to make you happy," he replied, smiling sadly as he turned onto his back and pulled her on top of him without missing a beat. She shivered as she realised how strong he was, how vulnerable she was.
"So... do it," she pushed, rocking her hips in a slow circle. She pushed her hair off of her face as she sat back; slowly, her hands trailed down her body. She cupped her breasts, touched by scars from previous battles, and then slid her hands down to her stomach and to Damian's chest.
She smiled and tugged him up into a sitting position, cradling his face in her hands for another kiss. She had always avoided sliding her tongue against his fangs, but in that kiss, she took her time caressing each elongated tooth. Damian moaned into her mouth and gripped her shoulders with both of his hands.
One of his fangs nicked her lower lip; Damian growled and kissed her ferociously as he chased the spilled blood. Hermione shivered and rode him as best as she could when she could barely breathe.
When their storm receded, leaving Hermione panting for breath and Damian looking entirely too alive and relaxed, she tried to get out of bed to find her clothes. She stumbled, however, and he barely caught her before she hit the floor.
"Stay tonight," he insisted.
She shook her head and swallowed hard. Dreams turned into nightmares and she hated having anyone else around her while she dreamed. He smiled and kissed her forehead as he carried her back to the bed. "Nathaniel usually makes breakfast, and his coffee is the best... so I'm told," he murmured. "No one will mind one more in the morning."
"I shouldn't---"
"Dawn's coming," he interrupted, "and soon I'll be dead to the world. For now, let me hold you close."
Hermione managed a small smile. "Well..."
"Please."
She nodded and wrapped her arm around his perfectly chiseled body.
&&&&
TITLE: The Audition
AUTHOR: 38gnihsurc
PAIRING: None.
RATING: arr
SPOILERS: None.
"Mon chardonneret tells me you wish to audition for a role either at the Circus ou Guilty Pleasures," the vampire said, once two men escorted Harry into the private office.
The young wizard swallowed hard, nervously, and nodded. "Yes, sir," he said quietly.
The vampire smiled a little and set his pen down. He folded his hands over the smooth surface of his solid, wooden desk and Harry found himself drawn to the perfection in every movement the other male made.
"Some of my dancers are as short as you," he said, "but, I have not... examined your wares, so to speak. So I do not know if you will be précisément what we like to have upon our stage."
Harry blinked. "You want me to strip."
"Is there another way through which I can see what I am getting into?"
Fighting the urge to blush, Harry shook his head and tugged his t-shirt over his head. He dropped it on the floor to his left side and took his sandals off before he started on his pants. Left in a pair of shorts, his wand and its sheath on his right arm, and a necklace that consisted of an old relic hanging from a thin leather thong, he put his hands on his hips and let the vampire visually appraise him.
"You exercise."
Harry nodded.
"You are not exotic, mon petit agneau," the vampire said. "Guilty Pleasures is a club where leopards and wolves and vampires attract the affections of our female audience."
"You haven't seen what I can do yet," Harry pointed out.
"Oui," the vampire conceded. He raised a hand and waved it slightly. "Alors... show me," he said as he rose to his feet and walked around his desk very gracefully.
Harry took his wand out and pointed it at the floor space between them. "Serpensortia," he said quietly.
A snake appeared, with green and black scales. It slithered along the ground, looking for an escape, until Harry started speaking Parseltongue. He hissed, asking it to come closer, to slide over his body. After the snake coiled around one leg and then around his body and then around his neck, Harry asked it to travel to the vampire. He promised the snake that the vampire wouldn't hurt him, and then he asked the snake to do the same to the vampire's body.
The vampire laughed softly, a deep chuckle that made Harry shiver. "Oh, you have excellent tricks, mon petit agneau," he admitted. "And, perhaps, you will fit in nicely at Guilty Pleasures. The ladies' arousal and fear will be an intense combination."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Thanks... I think."
The vampire chuckled again. "Oui. De rien." He extended a hand. "My name is Jean-Claude."
"Harry Potter," Harry said as he shook the vampire's hand.
"Come by tomorrow evening," Jean-Claude instructed, "at the back entrance. My security guards will know to let you in. No performing yet... but, perhaps it will help you to see what we do here."
Harry nodded. "Thank you."
"Do you have an alias you'd like to use?"
"Evan. Or James."
"I like Evan," Jean-Claude said, making the decision for Harry. "The dancers use aliases to keep their private lives separate from the club."
Harry shrugged. "Makes sense."
"A demain, mon petit agneau," Jean-Claude said before he dismissed Harry and allowed him to redress.
AUTHOR: 38gnihsurc
PAIRING: Harry/Cherry, Anita/Asher
RATING: a soft en.sea.xvii
SPOILERS: Incubus Dreams for AB, nothing really for HP... maybe HBP.
He knew he should have been concerned that he was doing things he would never have considered doing in front of anyone he considered a friend---with some people he considered friends---but desperate times called for desperate measures, and Anita's ardeur rising before a very important zombie raising was definitely a desperate time.
He could see Hermione's startled, wide eyes and her flushed cheeks. Her expression was an interesting contrast to Ron's expression. His eyes were downcast and his face was so pale that his freckles stood out like tiny, dark pebbles on a white sand beach. Remus looked depressed, as if he was thinking 'the Boy Who Lived has been reduced to nothing but disposable plumbing.' Snape was the only one who looked intrigued by the events unfolding in front of him, in the graveyard of Godric's Hollow.
He dropped his head and pressed his lips to Cherry's, tasting her dark lipstick when his tongue brushed out and caressed her. Her whimper was low, sexy but still eager sounding; she had become a vessel for her Nimir-Ra's metaphysical desire and Harry had become the spoon that was stirring it.
"Close," she purred, her dark eyes turning from human eyes to her leopard eyes. "God, so close..."
Damian crawled closer to them, his free hand reaching for Cherry's hand. His other hand was busy holding onto Anita's hand; while he usually calmed her, the ardeur had raised unexpectedly, and they were too concerned with creating links back to Anita so she could feed as fully as possible.
Harry knew the plan. Asher was underneath Anita and he would bite her when their pleasure reached its apex, creating a fresh wave of pleasure with his bite. Damian would hold Cherry's hand while he fed from Harry's shoulder. They hoped, while formulating their quickly-put-together plan, that the pleasure and feeding would satisfy the metaphysical plague that she and Jean-Claude carried.
Damian's bite hurt, but it didn't bother Harry. A part of him knew that he liked a little pain mixed with pleasure; with the ardeur riding them all, a little of pain wouldn't have slowed his desire down anyway.
His cry filled the air and joined the others' pleasurable sounds.
The metaphysical warmth receded from his body. Cherry guided him down to his body and held him close while Damian lapped at the bite mark on his neck.
"You okay?" she asked, her voice still low as a quiet purr settled into her throat.
Harry nodded and kissed her jaw. "Yes... you?"
"Very," she whispered huskily.
"Ma cherie?" Asher whispered near Anita's ear. "Has it passed?"
The black-haired woman was slumped against his body, her hand still in Damian's hand. She nodded and tucked her forehead against Asher's shoulder.
"Yeah," she breathed, "I'm okay." She released Damian's hand and reached for Harry's shoulder. "Hey," she said, her dark eyes focused upon him.
He looked up into her eyes, her eyes that were asking a lot of questions. He had been Asher's pomme de sang while he was studying in St. Louis, he had been Anita's blood sacrifice for several of her Animators, Inc. zombie raisings, and he had helped out behind the scenes at Guilty Pleasures---so he had a good idea of what questions were forming in Anita's mind.
Instead of waiting for her to talk, he smiled lazily at her. "I'm fine," he assured her.
"Your friends aren't," Cherry whispered.
"You guys are my friends, too," he replied. He tried to push himself up, but he was still too drugged from the afterglow to succeed. Cherry chuckled at his antics until he nipped at the underside of her jaw. "God, I can't move," he moaned.
Asher's chuckle was deeper than the female wereleopard's laugh, and it made Harry shiver. "Ma cherie is a very passionate lover, even at a distance," he said teasingly.
Anita nudged his shoulder. "Why do I put up with you?"
"Because you love me," he reminded her.
Harry smiled at them and then he turned his attention to Cherry. She smiled at him. He thought she looked sexier than she did earlier in the evening---with her black makeup smudged around her eyes, and her dark lipstick blurred around her lips---but he didn't say anything about that.
Instead, he brushed his fingers through her short, blonde hair, and whispered, "I'm gonna lie here for another minute, and then I'm gonna look for my trousers."
She laughed and nodded. "Okay," she whispered back.
"And then... maybe we could start the ritual?" Nathaniel asked as he approached the group of people, carrying Anita's zombie raising bag.
&&&&
TITLE: New Life II: The Aftermath
AUTHOR: 38gnishurc
PAIRING: Anita/Nathaniel, no one else, really.
RATING: pea.gee.xiii
SPOILERS: New Life I.
When he heard the door open, he looked up immediately towards the sound.
Everyone else from the Wizarding World had been celebrating Lord Voldemort's demise; Number Twelve Grimmauld Place had never seen such excitement.
Harry wanted to do nothing but sleep since his nightmare was finally over. Luckily for him, Cherry, Nathaniel, and Anita had been thinking similar thoughts. So, when the vampires went to their coffins, Harry, Anita, and the wereleopards curled up in bed.
He was used to sharing a bed with Jason, since the werewolf had practically taken Harry under his wing once he moved into the space underneath the Circus of the Damned, once he had earned the trust of everyone important in St. Louis. Wolf smelled differently than leopard even though he couldn't explain with the difference was; however, it was still familiar and still very comforting. Perfect for conjuring up a deep sleep that lasted hours and hours.
Ron's eyes widened when Harry propped himself up, rising from in between Nathaniel and Cherry. No one was wearing clothes; everyone was touching. Apparently, it was too much for the redhead to process.
Harry lifted a hand and mouthed 'One minute.' Ron nodded and disappeared.
He sighed. He had had trouble accepting the weird and wonderful ways of the vampires and lycanthropes at first. But, he wanted to study magical power and he wanted to convince Anita to help him destroy Voldemort; he didn't expect that he would find a home as well.
No one accused him of being different in St. Louis. (Well, the cops did, once, when he had been with Jason and Nathaniel when a convenience store just happened to be robbed. But, Anita rescued them, and everything had been fine. Since then, he avoided law enforcement whenever he could; being at the Circus for Asher helped with that.) He had always believed that Hogwarts was his home. But, students and professors had treated him differently than the other students; he always stood out to some degree. Even Ron and Hermione contributed to that at times. In St. Louis, with his new circle of friends, no one thought he was odd because there was always someone odder. Oddness seemed to be embraced in that city. There were vampires and lycanthropes and witches and... and everything. And Anita's circle had accepted him.
He learned that sleeping naked in a group of people wasn't about sex---although he had had a few improper thoughts about Nathaniel, and feeding Anita's ardeur with Cherry had been almost like having one of his fantasies fulfilled---but about comfort. He learned that practicality could come in many forms---so what's a little blood or sex?---and he stopped worrying about what others thought about him.
"You okay?"
He looked down into Cherry's eyes. He sighed again and nodded. "Ron---"
"Needs to talk to you," she finished. "I can smell him outside the door." She rubbed her face against Harry's arm. "He smells afraid."
"Of you?"
"Of you," she murmured.
"Well... that's ridiculous."
"You raised a lot of power last night," she said, referring to the final battle, "and he's wary of that. And other things."
"Other things," Harry echoed, while motioning over the bed with one hand.
She chuckled softly. Nathaniel growled. "Be quiet," he mumbled, not opening his lilac eyes.
"Sorry," Harry whispered, reaching down and petting the top of his auburn head. "I'm leaving soon."
"Kay," the sleepy male replied as he snuggled up to Anita.
Cherry smiled at Harry. "Go talk to him," she insisted. "They'll be more awake later... to feed, and we can talk then."
Harry impulsively leaned down and kissed her forehead. He liked Cherry, especially as a friend and 'sounding board.' Once they shared another smile, he slowly made his way off of the bed and grabbed some clothes.
A few seconds later, he was stepping out into the hall and tugging a button-up shirt on over his shoulders. Ron was staring at him with serious eyes.
"What's up?"
"Just like that?" Ron asked. "'What's up?'"
Harry shrugged. "Yeah," he replied. "You want to talk?"
"We haven't seen you since we left Godric's Hollow," Ron said, shrugging, too, as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "You missed a lot of the party."
"I'm knackered," he explained. "All I want to do is sleep, Ron."
"With three other people?"
"It's comfortable," Harry said quietly. "It's not about shagging. It's about comfort. Lycanthropes sleep together and touch a lot because they like to comfort each other, because they're socially structured in packs."
"Are you... a werewolf?"
Harry smiled and shook his head. "No, but I've been around 'em enough to get used to how they do things."
"You just left... and you're like a different person," Ron said quietly, in an accusatory tone of voice. "A completely different person, Harry. We were supposed to go off together. And you just bolted. No one knew where you were. And now, you shag in public and sleep in piles and---"
"That was an emergency," Harry muttered in a dismissive tone of voice. "Anita has this thing... she got it from Jean-Claude. A vampire. And when she doesn't take care of it... it flares up. Badly."
Ron didn't say anything at first. He studied Harry carefully with his eyes for a few minutes and then he said, "You've been vampire-food. For this John Clod guy?"
"Asher."
"Merlin..." Ron breathed and shook his head. "What's wrong with you?"
"For the first time, in a long time, nothing," Harry replied, smiling and shrugging. He sighed when he saw Ron's disgusted facial expression. "Look, I can't explain my new life to you, except to say that it works for me. My magic is under control and I have a safe place to live, and... and I don't mind doing the things I'm doing. I wish I could explain to you what changed and when it changed, but... I don't have those answers for you." Any trace of a smile disappeared when he reached out to touch Ron, when Ron flinched in reaction to the contact. "I wanted to write letters to you and Hermione every day, but I didn't want anyone intercepting the owls."
"Like who? My mum?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged again. "Like... anyone. If a Death Eater got a hold of it, Voldemort would've known where I was and what I was up to. And, I don't know what would have happened if your mum or dad read the letters... but I'm afraid they would have tried to get me to leave St. Louis."
"And that would've been so bad?"
"It was Anita Blake's zombies that helped us turn the tide against them," Harry reminded his friend.
Ron ducked his head slightly. "Yeah... fair enough," the redhead admitted. He blushed as he lifted his head up. "You know... you're not wearing your kit, y'know?"
Harry looked down at what he was wearing. He saw that he had grabbed Nathaniel's clothes on his way to the bedroom door. He didn't blush or make excuses; he and Jason shared a room, their clothes, and their lives for months. Sharing clothes---except for the items that had been tailored for each of them, gifts from the vampires---was commonplace.
"Oh." He shrugged. "Oh well... I'm gonna lie down again, so they won't be on long. Nathaniel won't mind."
Ron's laugh was tight and nervous. "You hang out with a weird crew."
"I'm pretty weird, too, Ron," Harry said, smiling before he ducked back inside the bedroom.
With the door closed, he started taking the clothes off as he made his way towards the bed. Cherry opened her eyes and reached out for him, before Nathaniel opened his eyes and brushed a few long strands of hair out of his eyes.
"Purple looks good on you," Nathaniel commented. "Makes your eyes brighter or something."
Harry snorted softly and padded over to the bed, eager to slide back into his spot between the two warm bodies. Once he was settled, Nathaniel lifted one leg over both of his; Cherry draped her arm over his torso. He sighed happily and snuggled up to his friends.
"Feel better?" Cherry asked.
He nodded, keeping his eyes open to look at the wereleopard. "I don't think Ron does... but I do."
She smiled and brushed her nose and lips over his shoulder. "Go back to sleep," she whispered, "and we'll talk after everything settles in your mind."
"Thanks," Harry whispered before closing his eyes.
&&&&
TITLE: New Life III: Pleasure
AUTHOR: 38gnihsurc
PAIRING: Harry/Jason
RATING: arr
SPOILERS: New Life I, II
Asher and Jean-Claude liked to feed together. Jason and Harry preferred that; they preferred to hold hands and let the different types of pleasure wash over them as the vampires fed off of their blood.
Sometimes, Harry heard Hermione's frustrated voice in his head---before he took his emerald green robe off, before he crawled onto the large bed.
"Honestly, Harry... you can't be someone's food forever! What will you do? How are you going to support yourself? Will this Asher guy just pay for your flat until you grow old and die?"
It had been two years since Voldemort's death, since he left Number Twelve Grimmauld Place with the others on Jean-Claude's private jet. In those two years, he became Asher's permanent pomme de sang and a resident of the space under the Circus of the Damned. He was cherished; then, he was loved with his relationship with Jason developed to a point that consumed them both.
Just looking at Jason made his temperature spike. He opened his eyes during their evening feeding and felt a surge of lust that wasn't Asher's doing. It was his own for the young werewolf. He moaned and rocked against Asher; he tightened his grip on Jason's hand.
And the pleasure of it all washed over him.
&&&&
TITLE: Acceptance
AUTHOR: 38gnihsurc
PAIRING: Hermione/Richard
RATING: pea.gee.xiii
SPOILERS: Nothing really specific for either series.
Hermione looked up when she saw Richard's body shadowed against the window of her bedroom. She stifled a yawn and rolled onto her side; her quiet noises tore his attention away from the outside world and caused him to look back at her.
"Did I wake you?"
She shook her head, her chestnut curls tumbling over her shoulder. "No," she whispered, reaching out for him. "What were you doing at the window?"
"They needed help," he explained quietly, admitting more than he wanted to. Hermione knew about his part in a triumverate of power and she accepted it; she loved Richard since she walked into the lunapar and became a part of the Thronnos Rokke Clan, and she would have done anything to have him in her life.
She slid her hand over his arm and over his shoulder, savouring the feel of the muscles and raw power underneath his skin. Even since she became a lycanthrope, she knew she was no match for Richard in a fight. But, she didn't expect that they would ever have a physical fight; he tried to protect her more than anything else.
After kissing his temple, she slid her face into his hair, which was growing longer and longer, much to her approval. She inhaled deeply and smelled his wolf under his skin. Richard growled softly and pulled her against his body.
"Are you too sore?" he asked, his polite man an interesting contrast to his wild beast.
"I healed," she whispered, turning her head so she could meet his eyes. His brown eyes had bled to amber; she shivered and licked her lips. "And I always want more of you," she added in a tender voice.
"Why do you accept me so easily?" he asked, the amber fading from his eyes. "Is it just because---"
Hermione cupped his face in her hands and kissed him, effectively cutting him off. "You're Ulfric, and I respect that," she murmured as she lifted her lips from his, "but that's not why I love you."
Richard's eyes widened. "You... love me?"
She blushed. "Can't help it," she whispered, shrugging. "I love you... the man, the beast." She paused and smoothed her hands over his hair. "I'm just lucky to have these few nights with you." She smiled sadly and shrugged. "I knew the score when I accepted your first offer."
"And you still... went along with it?"
"A little bit of you is always better than none of you at all," Hermione reasoned.
His eyes softened. "Hermione..."
"Shh," she whispered, sliding her hands down over his strong neck. "Just kiss me, alright?"
Richard nodded and pressed his lips to hers.
&&&&
TITLE: Safe and Sound
AUTHOR: 38gnihsurc
PAIRING: None.
RATING: pea.gee
SPOILERS: None, really
Hermione looked up when she saw the petite, black haired woman march up to the space in front of the silver door with the small window. She could barely hear anything over the rushing of her pulse, the blood racing through her veins, the beast threatening to burst out of her body, but she could hear words like "barbaric" and "illegal" and phrases like "open the door" and "she's my responsibility."
By the time Anita stepped inside the small room of the safe house, Hermione was crying in relief. The other woman was close enough so she could wrap her arms around Anita's legs; she hugged her lower half and pressed her face into Anita's stomach.
"Thank you, Nimir-Ra," Hermione sobbed, over and over.
"Nathaniel told me what happened," she whispered, dropping down to her knees. "Are you okay?"
She shook her head. "Someone put something in my drink... and... and it made me want to shift." She shuddered as she remembered the drug coursing through her system. "The cops shot me and brought me here before I could call the coalition's hotline." She paused and added, "Thank god, Nathaniel was coming to meet me for a drink, anyway."
"It's still in your system," Anita commented.
Hermione sniffled and nodded. Anita wasn't good at giving comfort, but Hermione didn't care; it felt so good to not be isolated in the scary room with silver walls.
"Let's get you home, okay?" Anita murmured. "Micah's in the car. We'll keep you safe until you get to the house."
The brunette nodded and pushed her matted curls back off of her face as she sat back on the floor. "Thank you," she whispered.
"You're one of ours," the other woman reminded her. "No one gets left behind."
&&&&
TITLE: More Than a One Night Stand
AUTHOR: 38gnishurc
PAIRING: Hermione/Damian
RATING: arr
SPOILERS: None, really.
She laughed quietly as the red haired vampire drew his arms around her and helped her sway to the music that played in Danse Macabre, one of the hottest clubs in the Blood District. She knew the law would keep her safe; plus, something about the vampire that held her told her she would be safe. His eyes were the eyes of hunters, but they weren't ruthless; desire flared behind his green eyes, more than hunger, more than bloodlust. She slid her hands up his cold chest and rocked her body against his.
"What is your name?"
After tilting her head up so she could look at him, she smiled and murmured, "Hermione."
He smiled but didn't flash his fangs. "I am Damian."
"Nice to... dance with you," she said, leaning up to whisper in his ear over the loud, sensual music.
"You are an angel, Hermione," he told her.
"I'm many things," she said softly, "but angel isn't one of them."
"We all suffer in many ways," he told her after kissing her knuckles. "Don't think that you are any less heavenly."
He continued to treat her as if she were an angel, despite her protests that she wasn't. She had gone to America to escape, to flee her previous life and the ghosts in the halls of Hogwarts; angels didn't run away or let the demons chase them out of a country.
Even in his basement bedroom, he cradled her close. She gave him permission to feed from her neck, and then he held her quietly; she guessed he had seen things from her mind while he fed from her blood, because he seemed less jovial than he had at the club.
"You deserve to be cherished," he whispered into her unruly hair.
She sighed and turned to look at him. "I survived," she whispered, "that doesn't mean I am---"
"It does," he insisted, cupping her face in his hand which was warmer than it had been at Danse Macabre. He pressed his lips to hers and seduced her into a kiss and so much more.
She had only had sex twice---with a teenaged boyfriend whose name brought tears to her eyes---but nothing compared to the feeling of having a man holding her close as he pushed his way inside of her body. She moaned and threaded her fingers through Damian's hair; she shivered when he licked the wound on her neck.
"Take more," she whispered, looking into his eyes as she rocked her body in time with the rhythm his had initiated. "I know you want to."
"Hermione... I could not---"
"I want to make you happy," she insisted.
"And I want to make you happy," he replied, smiling sadly as he turned onto his back and pulled her on top of him without missing a beat. She shivered as she realised how strong he was, how vulnerable she was.
"So... do it," she pushed, rocking her hips in a slow circle. She pushed her hair off of her face as she sat back; slowly, her hands trailed down her body. She cupped her breasts, touched by scars from previous battles, and then slid her hands down to her stomach and to Damian's chest.
She smiled and tugged him up into a sitting position, cradling his face in her hands for another kiss. She had always avoided sliding her tongue against his fangs, but in that kiss, she took her time caressing each elongated tooth. Damian moaned into her mouth and gripped her shoulders with both of his hands.
One of his fangs nicked her lower lip; Damian growled and kissed her ferociously as he chased the spilled blood. Hermione shivered and rode him as best as she could when she could barely breathe.
When their storm receded, leaving Hermione panting for breath and Damian looking entirely too alive and relaxed, she tried to get out of bed to find her clothes. She stumbled, however, and he barely caught her before she hit the floor.
"Stay tonight," he insisted.
She shook her head and swallowed hard. Dreams turned into nightmares and she hated having anyone else around her while she dreamed. He smiled and kissed her forehead as he carried her back to the bed. "Nathaniel usually makes breakfast, and his coffee is the best... so I'm told," he murmured. "No one will mind one more in the morning."
"I shouldn't---"
"Dawn's coming," he interrupted, "and soon I'll be dead to the world. For now, let me hold you close."
Hermione managed a small smile. "Well..."
"Please."
She nodded and wrapped her arm around his perfectly chiseled body.
&&&&
TITLE: The Audition
AUTHOR: 38gnihsurc
PAIRING: None.
RATING: arr
SPOILERS: None.
"Mon chardonneret tells me you wish to audition for a role either at the Circus ou Guilty Pleasures," the vampire said, once two men escorted Harry into the private office.
The young wizard swallowed hard, nervously, and nodded. "Yes, sir," he said quietly.
The vampire smiled a little and set his pen down. He folded his hands over the smooth surface of his solid, wooden desk and Harry found himself drawn to the perfection in every movement the other male made.
"Some of my dancers are as short as you," he said, "but, I have not... examined your wares, so to speak. So I do not know if you will be précisément what we like to have upon our stage."
Harry blinked. "You want me to strip."
"Is there another way through which I can see what I am getting into?"
Fighting the urge to blush, Harry shook his head and tugged his t-shirt over his head. He dropped it on the floor to his left side and took his sandals off before he started on his pants. Left in a pair of shorts, his wand and its sheath on his right arm, and a necklace that consisted of an old relic hanging from a thin leather thong, he put his hands on his hips and let the vampire visually appraise him.
"You exercise."
Harry nodded.
"You are not exotic, mon petit agneau," the vampire said. "Guilty Pleasures is a club where leopards and wolves and vampires attract the affections of our female audience."
"You haven't seen what I can do yet," Harry pointed out.
"Oui," the vampire conceded. He raised a hand and waved it slightly. "Alors... show me," he said as he rose to his feet and walked around his desk very gracefully.
Harry took his wand out and pointed it at the floor space between them. "Serpensortia," he said quietly.
A snake appeared, with green and black scales. It slithered along the ground, looking for an escape, until Harry started speaking Parseltongue. He hissed, asking it to come closer, to slide over his body. After the snake coiled around one leg and then around his body and then around his neck, Harry asked it to travel to the vampire. He promised the snake that the vampire wouldn't hurt him, and then he asked the snake to do the same to the vampire's body.
The vampire laughed softly, a deep chuckle that made Harry shiver. "Oh, you have excellent tricks, mon petit agneau," he admitted. "And, perhaps, you will fit in nicely at Guilty Pleasures. The ladies' arousal and fear will be an intense combination."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Thanks... I think."
The vampire chuckled again. "Oui. De rien." He extended a hand. "My name is Jean-Claude."
"Harry Potter," Harry said as he shook the vampire's hand.
"Come by tomorrow evening," Jean-Claude instructed, "at the back entrance. My security guards will know to let you in. No performing yet... but, perhaps it will help you to see what we do here."
Harry nodded. "Thank you."
"Do you have an alias you'd like to use?"
"Evan. Or James."
"I like Evan," Jean-Claude said, making the decision for Harry. "The dancers use aliases to keep their private lives separate from the club."
Harry shrugged. "Makes sense."
"A demain, mon petit agneau," Jean-Claude said before he dismissed Harry and allowed him to redress.