Stability in This Life of Ours
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All recognizable people, places, things or plots belong to J.K. Rowling who doesn't not believe in Slash as much as she should.
Summary: When Harry's magic turns on him, it takes a very special type of bond to keep him alive. But not just one bond, oh no, five. RL/SS/HP/DM/CW.
AN: Basically this story is an exploration of my favorite characters, character interactions, magic, bonds and sex. It should be fun. It's also very much about writing smut and learning to write sex- I haven't really written much, so I could truly use feedback.
Warnings: Fivesome. There is four other bond members, and the sexual pairings will go up through fivesomes between all of them. Their will also be pairing between the other bond members not including Harry. There will be some Dom/Sub stuff- though I'm not completely decided on how much.
Explicit content(I'm warning you now- so please don't read it if that's going to bother you, and talk to me before you report me) Magical theory, magical bonding, AUness. Irregular updates.
Chapter One: Mage
It was a beautiful summer's day, and Harry Potter desperately wished he could be astride his broomstick high in the air. It was not to be however, because today was his sixteenth birthday. As a Wizard with a magical grade above six, today was his transition day. Because he had more power than the average witch or wizard (yet another thing to set him apart, fate obviously had it out for him) his body couldn't carry the full load of his magic until it was fully mature. During his sixteenth birthday the magic would rise up from where the body kept it at the very depths of his soul and join the rest in his magical system. So, however much Harry Potter wanted to be outside playing Quidditch, he was stuck inside a locked, magically protected room waiting for a rare and exhausting magical process.
Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore waited outside, the wall spelled clear so they could monitor his progress. As the clock struck noon on July 31st, Harry's magical transitioning began. At first, everything seemed to be proceeding as Professor Dumbledore had told him it would. His hands and feet tingled and he felt unbearably warm. Harry shifted on the bed he was lying on. The tingles spread up his arms and legs. For an hour, or more, he couldn't really tell, his body tingled with fiercer and fiercer intensity while he sweat through his clothes, eventually causing him to strip to his boxers and accept the cup of ice that appeared on his bedside table.
At the point when his magic was supposed to be spreading into his blood stream, his chest began to ache. Bloody hell, it hurt... he groaned, and clutched his chest.
"Some--thing-something's gone wrong." He called through clenched teeth. "Ahh!" He called. The pain was spreading, coursing though his veins. He felt as though he were on fire, burning from the inside out. Magic was swirling under his skin making it bubble as though he had taken Polyjuice. The fire spread into his throat, and his shouts of agony ceased, descending into muted whimpers. He tossed and turned. In places, the bubbles of magic burst and blood poured out. Finally the pain turned to his head. It was torture, pure and simple. It felt...it felt as though.... oh he had nothing to compare it to. He was bleeding and he itched all over... and the fire...and the pain...
It seemed like forever, but the pain in his head faded away. The agony in the rest of his body, in fact it seemed to be growing, but Harry somehow knew exactly what to do. Only half-aware of the blood running down his body, Harry pushed himself up and stumbled to the door. His boiling magic pushed it out of the way with ease.
"Get me out of here," He coughed to Madam Pomfrey. To his horror, blood came up with the words. "Muggle. No magic. No touch 'bove grade one."
"Harry!" Madam Pomfrey called anxiously, as Harry doubled over and heaved up his breakfast.
"Portkey." Harry murmured.
"What, Harry?" Came Dumbledore's anxious voice. "What was that?"
"Portkey," Harry said louder. "To H-He- 'Mione's. No magic after. No magic... No magic..." Harry couched again, and more blood came up.
Harry heard a muttered, "Portus" but didn't see who cast it, as he was getting dizzy. He felt someone's arm come around his middle, burning hot with magic.
"No..." He muttered, "No magic...no magic touch... no...."
There was a hook behind his navel, and his magic went crazy. He was in a room without any magic, but more of the magic blisters were bursting, sending blood everywhere. He was dizzy. He heard screams.
"Harry!" There was more magic touching him.
"Don't touch him, Ms. Granger. Apparently he cannot stand to be touched by those with magic."
"What happened?" Mione's voice sobbed. Harry tried to find her, but everything was so confusing...so much pain…it hurt…oh God, it hurt….
"Lord," A male voice Harry didn't recognize said. "How can we help?" Blood ran into his eyes as he doubled over, coughing. More of the magical bubbles were bursting, though they had slowed now that he was out of a purely magical atmosphere. Painpainpainpain…
"Move him up on the couch. Could we get some hot water with honey?" There were heavy footsteps coming towards him, and another lighter pair running off and then strong arms lifted him up. They didn't burn, instead they were freezing, but that was a reprieve from the way his blood was boiling.
"He's burning up." The male voice said. Harry had a fleeting impression of straight white teeth, kind brown eyes and curly hair.
"Ice?" Madam Pomfrey ordered.
"What's going on?" Mione shrieked.
"We don't rightly know, Ms. Granger." Dumbledore said. Another blister popped, and the pain came surging back.
"Goin' to be sick..." He managed.
"No magic." Dumbledore said warningly, and then there was a large bin in front of him. Blood poured out his mouth as his stomach cramped.
"What's going on?" Mione frantically asked as Harry heaved again.
"He was transitioning...."
"He's a grade seven?" Hermione asked, shocked out of her fear.
"Yes. Everything was going well...and then...I can't say what went wrong."
"Know." Harry whispered.
"Harry? Harry? No what?"
"Know what happened."
"You do?" Madam Pomfrey gasped.
Harry nodded, which was a stupid idea, as it set off another wave of nausea. A magical hand touched him, and Harry screamed.
It was replaced quickly by a soothing Muggle hand.
"Can you tell us, Harry? Can you tell us what happened?"
"Too much magic..." Harry gasped. "Can't...can't control...breaks magical channels. Magic everywhere..."
"Harry, that's not possible." Hermione stated softly. "Magical channels can't be broken."
"Can." Harry said. The dizzy feeling was clearing, but the pain was still just as intense. A pale white hand held a glass of water up to his lips. Harry took a sip.
"Lemon?" He asked weakly when he tasted the honey.
"Of course, darling. One moment. "
"What do you know Harry, can you tell us?" Dumbledore asked.
"Grade eight." Harry whimpered through the pain. "Grade eight. More magic... rumor...mage."
There were gasps.
"You're a mage, Harry?" Dumbledore questioned frantically.
"Mage." He agreed before spitting up some more blood. "Magic out of control...need magical compliments...Firmitudo bond." Harry was in too much pain to blush, but he could see the blush on Madam Pomfrey's face, and thankfully, only confusion on Hermione's.
"What's the..." She started.
"Later." Madam Pomfrey said softly.
"Do you know who, Harry?"
Harry nodded. He didn't know where all this information was coming from, but he knew what he had to do to survive, and that he would understand everything later.
"Need..." Harry gasped as several blisters burst at once.
"First need no magic 'viroment. Mione live here..."
"Right you are child." Dumbledore said soothingly, even as the others looked confused. It was probably a grade seven thing. "What else can we get you?"
"Need salve...Pr'fessor Snape. No magic...no magic..."
"Poppy, contact Severus at once, tell him we need a non-magical healing salve."
"Citrus." Harry whispered. He was in so much pain...he hurt... "Ahh!" He yelled as a spasm shot through his body.
"In the salve, Harry?" Madam Pomfrey asked anxiously, desperately. Harry shook his head. His throat was burning again.
"Drinks, Harry? Citrus drinks?" Hermione latched on. Harry nodded.
"Anything else?" Harry shook his head again. All at once, the dizzy feeling swept up again with a vengeance and everything went black.
* * * * *
When he awoke again, the pain had lessened minutely. He was in a comfortable bed, covered with a light sheet and wearing a pair of cotton pajama pants. Carefully, Harry pushed himself up. His muscles shook though, and he dropped down a moment later.
"Harry!" Hermione's voice called, and she rushed over. She reached out to touch him. Harry frantically shook his head.
"No!" He voice came out in a weak gasp. She withdrew immediately.
"Harry?" The man who had taken care of him earlier came into view. "I'm Nathan Granger- Hermione's father."
"N-nice to meet you, sir." Harry gasped out. Dumbledore and Poppy came into view on the other side of the bed.
"Where are we?" He asked.
"A muggle hotel." Dumbledore answered. "How are you, my dear boy?"
"I've got an hour." Eyes widened.
"Same thing as before." Harry answered. "Magic's down for now. How long have I been asleep?"
"Five hours." Madam Pomfrey answered. She had worry written all over her face and was obviously straining not to check him over with a diagnostic charm.
"Why don't I help you to the bathroom and you can shower," Mr. Granger said. "Then we can all talk."
Harry nodded. That sounded nice. His bladder was near bursting and he was covered in dry, crusty blood. A shower sounded really nice.
Harry blushed as Mr. Granger helped him to his feet. His legs wouldn't hold up his weight even with the man's support though, and Mr. Granger ended up having to carry him into the restroom. Mr. Granger was very kind as he helped Harry relieve his bladder and take a bath.
Harry was covered with half healed scabs where his skin had burst from the pressure of the magic within him, he noticed as Mr. Granger assisted Harry in getting dressed in a pair of too large pajamas.
Once Harry was settled back in bed, set with fresh sheets, a glass of orange juice cradled in hishands, the interrogation came.
Harry's mind was still cloudy and tired, and all he knew were the things he had to do to survive.
"Can you explain to us what happened, Harry?"
Harry nodded and took a sip of the orange juice. Man he had missed orange juice. "It's really rare, but some people are born as grade eights. They're given the title 'mage'."
Seeing Mr. and Mrs. Granger's confusion, Harry explained further. "All people are broken up into a grade system of how magically powerful they are. Muggles fall in grades zero and one, squibs are two and three. 'Average' Wizards split between grades four, five and six. Then grade sevens are normally considered the most magically powerful humans. Magical creatures have there own grading system. Mages are basically myths."
Harry coughed. A tingling was starting up in his extremities.
"What happens to mages when they transition?" Hermione ask.
"The magic breaks out of the magical system. It breaks into the normal bodily systems." Harry explained. He tossed off the upper blanket. It was hot.
"Let's move on to what's important." Dumbledore said swiftly. "You need the Firmitudo bond." Now that he wasn't in excruciating pain, Harry did blush.
"What is the Firmitudo bond?" Hermione pressed.
Harry blushed hotter. The Firmitudo bond had a somewhat…mixed reputation in the Wizarding world. He knew this only through the information flowing through his mind right now- he needed a Firmitudo bond, so he knew what it was.
"The Firmitudo bond is a stabilizing bond," Dumbledore began, "Normally used on those with unstable magic. It's based off magical resonances and compatibility."
"Okay…that doesn't explain why Harry blushes every time it's mentioned."
Dumbledore pinked a little himself, which made Harry feel a little better. However, the tingles were all the way up his arms and to his knees and he was burning up again.
"Can we hurry this up?" He pressed, sipping down more of the cold orange juice,
"Of course, my boy. The Firmitudo bond primarily stabilizes magic through sexual intercourse."
"Oh." Hermione said primly, her face turning Weasley red. This, of course, turned Harry's mind to…
"Who do you need, Harry? We'll get them for you."
"Them?" Hermione asked with wide eyes.
"The Firmitudo bond primarily has five members."
Hermione's blush grew darker. Pomfrey and Mrs. Granger were also blushing hotly.
"I'm not sure they'll agree…" Harry whispered, despair crawling in. If he did not have this bond, he would die. He could not survive without it.
"You would die if you did not have them." Dumbledore said quietly, so the others would not hear. Harry nodded. "Please leave us alone for a moment." Dumbledore said aloud.
Reluctantly, the others filed out. All, that is, except Mr. Granger.
"Hermione doesn't know," Mr. Granger said with a smile, "But I got up to some pretty crazy things in University."
Harry's eyes widened.
"And I get the picture you wouldn't survive long without these people, Harry."
Harry ducked his head.
"Let me help all I can."
Harry nodded, even as the first tingles of pain started in his feet. He gasped.
"Tell us in order of who is most likely to agree, child." Dumbledore said a sense of urgency in his words.
"He will certainly agree, Harry. Who else?"
"Remus." Harry whimpered as the pain shot through his knees and elbows simultaneously.
"Snape. Pr'fessor Snape."
"And who last my child." Dumbledore didn't sound worried. Harry was worried. Snape would not agree. Then in a sudden flash of insight, he wondered how much Dumbledore knew about the bond, how much he would have to tell them. The insight was gone a moment later as hot knives descended into his stomach.
"Who last, Harry? Who else?" Dumbledore pressed.
"D-Draco Malfoy." Harry managed before the pain grew too much and magic started bursting his skin open again. The world spun into blood and pain.