In His Arms
Taking Professor McGonagall's advice, Harry waited until the students had gone home for the year before attempting his own Animagus transformation. He trekked out to the lake one warm summer evening, figuring that no matter what he turned into he'd find a good habitat out on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Then he stripped off his clothes, got out his wand, and put all of his magic into the words and gestures he'd been practising separately all year long.
At first nothing happened, and then Harry's whole being seemed to turn itself inside-out, and he was flopping on the shore, gasping and confused. He managed to push himself into the cool comfort of the lake, and then drifted there, peacefully, trying to figure this new self out.
As Minerva had reported, once he stopped trying to be Professor Potter of the two arms and two legs and walking upright, it was surprisingly easy to settle into his new body. He had eight shorter arms that were incredibly flexible, lined with two rows of suckers that got smaller all the way out to the delicate tips. His two longer limbs were both stronger and less versatile, made for grabbing and holding onto things, drawing them toward the hungry beak he could feel nestled at the centre of himself.
Harry blinked one huge eye and sighed. He'd managed to become the only thing more obvious in a crowd than Harry Potter: he was a giant squid.
Harry figured he'd make the best of it, regardless, so he swam further out into the lake, noting the things his new senses told him about current and temperature at the expense of most sounds. His vision was very strange indeed, wide-set and murky but very sensitive to movement. His new body was pleasantly graceful, and he did a series of slow, lazy spirals in the water.
He paused to watch a school of fish flitting by him, each silvery shape a dart of motion that his tentacles twitched to follow. He spotted a merman in the distance and gave it a wave, surprised to find it wasn't waving at him but instead pointing out the shark that had found the fish, and now Harry, to be most interesting.
Before Harry knew what he was doing, something inside him contracted and propelled him away, leaving an inky cloud obscuring the water where he'd been. He felt exhilarated, shooting through the water, high on whatever squids used for adrenaline. He knew that later on he'd be less than thrilled, but for now he felt wonderfully, perfectly alive and at one with his new form. After a bit, he headed in the general direction of shore, wondering idly if he'd turn back wet or dry, assuming he made it onto land beforehand.
It wasn't until he got to shore that he realised he had no real, clear idea of how to turn back; the books he'd read had mentioned it in passing, but suggested it would be so obvious that going into detail would simply be a waste of words.
Harry really wished they'd made the attempt as he floated near the pier and tried everything he could to change from giant squid to smallish Defence professor.
After a bit of sulking under the tethered boats, Harry felt a new vibration in the water, one that he realised was feet walking on the wooden pier being transmitted through the timbers. Perhaps it was Minerva, come to check on him, or at the very least someone Harry could get to retrieve her somehow. He lifted one big eye out of the water and peered myopically at the dark figure that crouched near the end of the pier. One long arm reached down to the water line and carefully scraped the undulating wavemoss off one of the pier supports with a small knife.
That was just wonderful. Of all the people to come upon Harry in his predicament, it had to be Snape.
Well, beggars couldn't be choosers and Harry was feeling quite desperate at this point, so he used one of his longer tentacles to pull himself into the shallow water, then waved the rest of his arms around until he got Snape's attention.
Snape was saying something, but Harry's aquatic hearing couldn't pick up more than a hint of sound through the thin air. He used one tentacle to grab Snape's outstretched wrist, an arm going to his forehead to see if the lightning bolt scar was still there, even in this form. He wasn't used to his new body yet, however, and his tug brought Snape toppling, wet and angry, into the water.
Snape's robes flared and floated around him, drifting upward until Harry, unable to resist dipping one huge eye back under the surface of the water, saw that Snape was a true traditionalist and wore nothing at all under his robes. Then Snape, too, slipped under the water, and Harry remembered why that was a bad idea and reached out to bring Snape's face back up into the air.
Harry nearly dropped Snape again in shock when he processed the information coming in from his unfamiliar limbs. Snape was warm and dense and oh so very smooth-skinned, at least to Harry's squid body. Harry couldn't help running his tentacles over the dark hairs on Snape's legs, finding them soft as a kitten's fur with silky skin beneath that felt so very fragile to his new body. His tentacles slipped upwards, curious, and Snape began to struggle again.
Harry's tentacles tightened, suckers grabbing instinctively onto whatever they could reach to keep from dropping Snape back into the cold waters. He shifted to get a better grip, and he rather enjoyed the way Snape's tender flesh clung for a moment under his suckers before letting go so they could be repositioned. Harry found himself mesmerised by the feel of it, using just one short arm to keep him anchored and letting the rest reach out to feel the thickness of wet cloth, the clinging softness of Snape's damp hair, and more of that lovely, addictive skin. Snape kept talking but, just as before, it was merely a hum when transmitted through air.
Snape went still when Harry's shifting arms explored higher, and then he relaxed as Harry curled his tentacle-tip around this newly-textured flesh. Harry nearly dropped Snape again when he realised what he was holding, until he also realised that Snape's thighs had parted invitingly and the cock under his touch was fully erect. Harry brought one of his arms up to touch Snape's cheek very gently, using only the back without any suckers, while he continued to explore Snape's hot, firm cock, the skin so very fragile but the centre of it solid in a way that nothing on Harry's new body could compare to.
Snape's free hand began to tug at his wet robes, and Harry thought it meant he wanted to restore his modesty, so he stopped his fascinating fondling and tried to help Snape pull them down, though they kept floating up no matter what he did. When Harry let go of Snape's wrist, instead of helping to right them, Snape unbuttoned his robes completely. Harry took this as an unmistakable invitation to explore, and let his arms go right back to what they'd been doing.
He'd never thought of Snape as a sexual creature before, but the way Snape was relaxing into his touches was wonderfully sensual. Harry used his big tentacles to make sure Snape's back and waist were cradled and his head kept above water, and then he let his other arms roam over Snape's hot, tender flesh. He found that his smallish suckers were perfect for pleasuring Snape's nipples, and that it felt almost as good as a blowjob when Snape used his mouth deftly on one tentacle-tip.
In fact, it seemed as though Harry had an eleventh tentacle of a sort, though he wasn't quite sure what to do with it -- much like the human counterpart, Harry's squid penis seemed to operate more on instinct than the other ten. It emerged from where it had been hidden under his mantle and sought out the warm spaces of Snape's body, slipping up between his legs at first, until Snape let go of the tentacle he'd been fellating in order to coaxing this one up into his grasp. He talked as he stroked and kissed this new, smoother part of Harry's anatomy, the words vibrating against the sensitive flesh in a way that made Harry's whole body tighten up deliciously.
Harry forced himself to concentrate on what he was doing to Snape, knowing that he was touching some very tender bits that didn't deserve accidental crushing. He couldn't resist wriggling one of his shorter arms up and up the inside of Snape's thigh, and couldn't seem to keep himself from spreading Snape's legs so he could tease and probe at the hot, tight little opening he found there. Snape didn't seem to mind one bit.
Harry kept stroking and teasing Snape's hard shaft, his smallest suckers pressing kisses all over the head, and sliding the very tip in and out of the opening. All the while Snape was enthusiastically stroking, licking and kissing Harry's strange new anatomy, the muscles more turgid and less flexible than the rest of his tentacles, its surface smoother and more thin-skinned and definitely more sensitive.
It was by far the strangest and most liberating sex that Harry had ever experienced, no that he'd really experienced much sex even as a man.
He pushes the suckers on two of his tentacles together and then worked them up into Snape's inviting arse, using the strange malleability of his body to push in narrowly and then widen the limbs until he had several inches of both arms up inside Snape's body. He felt around, pushing more of himself inside and then pulling back out over and over, fucking Snape's arse with the thicker part of his tentacles while the tips probed and explored. If he'd thought Snape's skin was soft, it was nothing compared to the texture inside him, all delicate folds of smooth, damp silk.
After a bit of self-indulgent teasing, Harry found the little nub he'd been looking for and rubbed against it, pressing from the outside as well. He curled a tentacle around and between Snape's tender bollocks, used his suckers to tug and tease Snape's hard little nipples, and let the rest of his arms roam free over Snape's soft skin. It took concentration, coordinating all his arms to pleasure Snape so thoroughly, but it was worth it when the body in his tentacles shuddered and come spilled out, hot and thick, to dissolve and dissipate into the cool water.
Harry felt that delicious tension coiling up in his own body and he gave himself over to it, wishing he could shout as he came, spending himself in the water. The sensation swept over and through him, making him forget everything in a white-gold rush of pleasure, and so he was very shocked indeed to find that, when he came back to himself, he'd come back to, well, himself.
Luckily, Harry also had excellent reflexes, and so he managed not to inhale a big lungful of lake water as he swam upwards, pulling Snape along with him. He fumbled out his wand and cast a spell to levitate them both to the pier. He then summoned Snape's dropped knife out of the lake, and sheepishly handed it over to the damp, disheveled and debauched professor.
"I suppose it's a good thing you can't take points any longer," said Harry, trying very hard not to look at Snape's pale, exposed body and wonder how it would feel under his very human hands.
"I knew it was you," said Snape.
Harry blinked and stared, though he couldn't seem to bring his eyes much above the level of Snape's collarbones. He was too distracted by the glorious love bites forming all over Snape's body, sucker-rings in all sizes turning livid pink and purple everywhere from his chest to his ankles, and even a few small ones on his now-limp cock.
"Your scar was right there; you even pointed it out," explained Snape, tetchy now.
"So you... And you still, um. Good? It was good, I mean, it was for me," babbled Harry, brain still misfiring from the best, and certainly most magical, orgasm of his short life.
"Yes, Harry, I freely consented to sexual relations with your Animagus form," said Snape, voice just as dry as if he'd been discussing shrivelfigs and not inter-species intercourse.
Harry swallowed nervously, and then tried to form a coherent thought. "And that was, erm, all right, then?"
"I enjoyed it as much as you did," he replied, voice quite wicked now. Harry braved a glance up at his face, only to find Snape looked amused and languid and not angry at all.
Harry swallowed and then found himself asking, "So, if I wanted sexual relations with you in this form?"
Snape's answering grin was slow and sensual, "All you'd have to do is ask."
Title: In His Arms