At Last...

Claimed by Loui

************************************************************************
The Portkey dumped them in a dark and dirty alleyway and Harry Potter breathed in a
much-needed breath of fresh air. The air in the dungeons underneath Stewarton Abbey
had been dank and musty and, considering the reason they had been there, every breath
had also seemed like it would be their last. Still, he and Remus had achieved the first part
of their unsanctioned mission, and had rescued Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy from
the clutches of Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

From the sounds of the city and the sirens in the distance, it was still early enough for
people to be coming out of pubs and clubs, boisterous and unruly. Gazing over at his
partner in crime, Harry softly said “What next?” while gently shifting the unconscious
blond in his arms to rest in a slightly more comfortable position for them both.

Remus – whose arms were similarly occupied with the unconscious dark-haired form of
Severus Snape – said, “This is where we split up. I’ll take Severus to a safe place – one
that only Sirius and I ever knew about. You do the same with young Draco. Somewhere
not even I know about… somewhere I can’t betray.

“I’ll leave a message for you in our alternate emergency drop box exactly one week from
today. You only come in from hiding if the message says it’s safe. If not, go to the main
emergency drop box the following week for the next message. No matter what, you are
not to come in until Severus and I have managed to identify the traitor.”

Harry nodded his understanding to his mentor and gathered his unconscious companion
closer to his body as he prepared to Apparate them both. His last words to Remus Lupin
were, “Stay safe.”

************************************************************************
It was mid-afternoon, two days after he and Remus had retrieved the Order’s betrayed
spies from the clutches of Voldemort and the Death Eaters that Draco Malfoy finally
began to stir. By that point, Harry had been operating on too much coffee and sheer
strength of will for far too long. He managed to get some broth down a confused but
conscious Draco’s throat, and impressed upon him the necessity of staying where they
were.

Once satisfied that Draco clearly understood what had happened, and how many orders
he and Remus had broken in order to save both Draco and Severus, Harry calmly
announced to the blond that he was going to go crash in the other bedroom and to help
himself to stuff in the kitchen if he woke first. That done, Harry did indeed stagger into
the other bedroom and strip himself to his boxers, before collapsing onto the bed and
dragging up the quilt from the bottom of the bed.

************************************************************************
Draco Malfoy looked out the window of the living room of the small cottage that was his
temporary home, long fingers wrapped securely round the mug of tea that he was
drinking. He didn’t really take in much of the scenery; his mind was too busy trying to
wrap its way round the dizzying events of the past few days.

Someone had betrayed them. Two hours away from taking the Dark Mark at the behest of
Dumbledore and the thrice-damned Order of the Phoenix – with Snape as his sponsor
since Lucius was still the star resident of Azkaban – a hooded figure had interrupted the
Death Eater meeting that was to be his initiation and had approached Voldemort. The
result of the murmured conversation the hooded stranger had with the Dark Lord was not
established until after the stranger had gone again. Voldemort had cursed them for the
traitors that they both were to the cause and put them both under Crucio.

The next two days had not been pleasant. Draco had lost count of the number of pain
curses and beatings they had experienced. Rape had been next on the agenda so he could
only thank God that they had been rescued in time to spare them that at least.

What Draco could not get his head round was the fact that it was Lupin and Potter that
had rescued them. He had reluctantly come to the conclusion over the last year and a half
of his silent service with the Order that Potter really wasn’t some sort of attention-seeking
hero. Trouble found him with ridiculous regularity but Potter was no glory hound. Lupin
and Snape had a relationship that he didn’t even make pretence at trying to understand…
it was a relationship that was profoundly personal to the two men.

Potter had reluctantly worked with him on the occasions when Dumbledore had ordered
them to do so, and they had worked well together. Distant politeness and forced
camaraderie were the best they had managed. On a few occasions Draco thought that
Potter might have been willing to try for true friendship, but that was where the sticking
point in their relationship was for Draco.

At Dumbledore’s order – and because of Potter’s refusal to act – Draco took the accursed
stabilising potion that was the only thing that was keeping nature from taking its true
course. It was like experiencing life through a dull grey blanket and Draco could not
forgive the other man for that. Not that it would matter for long anyway. If Potter
continued to refuse, time would take its toll… the potion would only work for so long.

After that, Potter agreed or he died a slow death or went mad… neither of the latter
options were particularly appealing. Draco could not consider friendship to anyone who
put someone else through all that if it could at all be avoided. Camaraderie and politeness
were the best he could manage for his fellow soldier of the Light.

************************************************************************
Five days later, when Potter had returned from his essential trip to find out if it was safe
for them to come in from the cold, Draco listened as Potter announced the bad news.
Lupin’s message was concise in its gloominess. Lupin was considered a security risk and
had a containment order against his name, he and Snape were to be Stupefied on sight
and brought before the Order Council, and Harry was… well, Harry was in trouble but
they couldn’t really list a containment order for their boy wonder, now could they?
Dumbledore was fuming over the unsanctioned rescue and was apparently more focused
on finding them than seriously looking for the supposed traitor who had betrayed them.
Lupin had left some emergency potions and two Portkeys for them: one would take them
to where he and Snape were hiding – to be used as a last resort; the other, would take
them to Order Headquarters – to be used when even the last resort was no longer an
option.

The only other thing that had been included in the drop box was a sealed parchment for
Draco from Snape. He’d half-dreaded that the message would contain what it had… in
the unnamed hiding place that Snape and Lupin were sharing they had no access to
potions ingredients, let alone a potions lab. There would be no stabilising potion. Draco
had spent the last thirty-six hours surviving on strength of will and iron determination but
he was now out of options. There would be no miraculous source of new potion in time.

Sighing, Draco crumpled the parchment in his hand as it unconsciously clenched into a
fist and looked into Potter’s confused yet steady gaze. “We need to talk.”

Potter clearly realised something was up because he sat down on the chair nearest to
Draco and said, “What about?”

“Snape can’t make the stabilising potion for me and in a matter of hours – a day at most –
I’m not going to be able to control my nature any more. I know you don’t want it so you
need to let me go.”

Draco was surprised to see confusion on Potter’s face rather than disgusted
understanding. An idea emerged and was reinforced when instead of an order to leave
immediately, Potter said, “I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about,
Malfoy.”

“Now is not the time to be circumspect, Potter. The potion.”

“What potion?!”

Draco restrained the growl that he wanted to let loose and instead said in a soft monotone
and using simple words like he was talking to a child, “The stabilising potion… the one I
have to take… the one Dumbledore ordered me to take… because you refused the bond.”

Draco tensed ready to fight when Potter sprang to his feet but all the other did was move
to clear off a space on the stout wooden coffee table and sit on that, knees practically
touching his, saying, “I’m sorry, Malfoy. I really don’t understand what you are talking
about.

“What potion? What bond? What do I have to do with any of this?”

For a long moment Draco said nothing. The one thing he had never considered in any of
this was that Potter truly might not know. Was it possible that the old bastard
Dumbledore had never told Potter? Draco had informed his Head of House at the end of
Seventh Year, as soon as he’d felt the pull… the bond overrode any petty jealousies or
rivalries. Tradition demanded it, as did survival.

Eventually, Draco said, “Potter what do you know about male Veelas?”

“Only what was covered in class at school, why?”

“Wonderful,” muttered Draco. “In other words, you know only what the Ministry deemed
suitable for the curriculum.”

“Malfoy, I don’t want to annoy you any further because you clearly feel you have cause
for grievance, but I have no clue what you’re talking about here.”

Draco allowed a wry smile to grace his face as he looked at the genuinely bewildered
young man in front of him – this should be fun. “Do you want the long-winded
explanation or the basic facts that I’m beginning to put together based on your reaction?”

Face set, Potter said, “I think you better go with whatever version is shorter.”

“Short factual version it is then.” Potter grinned briefly at him and Draco added, “No
interruptions ‘till I’m done.” Potter nodded at him.

“The Veela gene does not become active in every male that carries the genetic heritage. If
it does, it’s on or around their eighteenth birthday. I carried the potential and just before
Seventh Year ended I came into my heritage.

“Male Veelas are attracted to one mate – irrespective of gender – and they are attracted
by the scent of their one true mate. They can procreate with either gender and are fiercely
devoted to their mate.

“One in a thousand refuses to bond with a Veela male. There is a stabilising potion that
can be used to keep the Veela stable and prevent them from going mad or dying… but it
only works for so long. Many male Veela choose to die rather than facing a short potion-
dependent life without their mate.

“I sensed my mate at Hogwarts and approached my Head of House because I knew it was
going to cause issues. The next day I was called to the headmaster’s office and informed
that my mate had been informed about – and refused – the bond; I was ordered to take the
potion. I was too valuable to the Order to be allowed to contemplate suicide. I’ve taken it
twice a month ever since.”

Draco had no idea what to make of the torrent of emotions running through Potter’s green
eyes so he waited patiently for him to make a response.

“It’s me, isn’t it?”

Draco nodded.

“Dumbledore told you I said no and ordered you to take the potion? He paired you with
me on all our fucking missions knowing full well that you were taking a potion to extend
a life you wouldn’t necessarily choose to live, because you thought your mate didn’t want
you?” Draco nodded again.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.” The calm tone that the sentence was uttered in convinced
Draco of the complete sincerity behind the statement and he couldn’t hold back the hitch
in his breath as he heard it… it had been so long since he’d had hope in his life.

Eyes worried, Potter said, “What happens to you without the potion after so long?”

Draco shut his eyes and leaned his head back against the chair he was sitting on. “The
potion is almost out of my system, by this time tomorrow it will be gone. The urge is too
strong now and I will not go back to the half-life of living under its effects – even were I
to survive withdrawal and not completing the bond.

“Basically Pot- Harry… I claim you or I go mad and die.”

There was a long, long moment of silence and then Harry said to him, “Can you open
your eyes, please? I need to see them to see how serious this is… there is more to the
claiming than just sex, that’s the impression I’m getting?”

Draco locked his gaze with his mate and nodded wordlessly and sighed at the soft “tell
me” directed at him by Harry.

“Normally, the bond is allowed to grow and progress at a natural pace. Intercourse is
worked up to over a period of time, as it is enough for the Veela to be with his mate and
know that the bond is accepted. At a later point of the pair’s own choosing, they will
instigate the second stage of the bond and the Veela’s body will secrete a special fluid
with their semen. That acts within the body of the Veela’s mate to allow them to conceive
a child and the bond becomes a true life-bond then.

“The innate magic of the mate reacts with the fluid secreted. It doesn’t matter if the mate
is male or female. The second-stage bonding triggers all necessary changes within the
mate’s body for safe conception of the child. Once the bonding is set, if one dies, so does
the other… what one pain one feels, so does the other… what joy one feels, so does the
other… you get the idea.”

“This wouldn’t be normal, I take it?”

Draco shook his head and said, “Not even close. By the time the potion leaves my body
I’ll want you with every fibre of my being. I love you Harry, but I can’t promise that our
first sexual encounters would be very joyful experiences. The urge to mate and reproduce
is strong… to say I would dominate the encounter would be putting it mildly.”
Harry excused himself for a moment and returned carrying a glass of firewhiskey for
each of them, saying, “Would it help any if I said that I’ve had a crush on you since the
start of Seventh Year?”

Draco pressed the glass of firewhiskey to his temple with a sigh before downing it in a
single gulp and saying, “It helps immeasurably to know that what I feel is not one-sided,
but it is worse in a way because I can’t see how what might follow could possibly be
what you want.”

Harry – who had resumed his seat on the coffee table – pressed a gentle hand to Draco’s
knee and a clearly visible shudder passed through both of their frames when he did so.

“When we get back to civilisation I am going to call Dumbledore on his meddling in my

– our – lives… he told me last time that it was the last time he would do anything like
that.

“I’ve wanted to be with you for years and I’ve longed for someone to love and have a
family with. Fate has flung us together and given us the opportunity to have what we both
want. I say we go for it.”

“You will be my mate?” Draco’s question was desperately hopeful.

“I will be your mate.” Harry’s response was resolute.

With a quick tug, Draco had Harry cradled in his lap and tasted the kisses of his mate for
the first time. The ecstatic whimper that escaped Harry’s mouth and his efforts to get
even closer to him began to heal the hurts of his still-wounded heart and Draco began to
believe in hope again.

When Harry’s dark head rested against his shoulder and his mate softly admitted that he
was a virgin with either sex, Draco felt his heart swell with delight… his mate was
unspoiled and would be his always now.

The rest of the afternoon was spent exchanging gentle kisses and caresses. Draco said
that he believed his system should be cleansed of the accursed stabilising potion by
nightfall and each man knew what the night and following days entailed for them.

************************************************************************
Draco served Harry breakfast in bed the following morning. The urge to procreate was
strong in his blood and soul but he had managed to restrain the call of his nature for a
little longer. He had introduced Harry to the wonders of sex last night and wrung several
orgasms out of his exquisite body, Harry’s body had welcomed Draco deep and the
experience had been transcendent for both the Veela and Harry.

At five feet eight inches, his mate was considerably shorter than his own six foot two
frame and Harry had a lithe physique that was built for speed and endurance that fitted
perfectly with his own more sculpted and muscled body. Sliding home inside Harry’s
body had been like finding true contentment, they were whole at last.

Draco made sure that his mate ate all of his light meal and drank plenty of fluids. Harry
was allowed out of the bed only long enough to take care of some necessities in the
bathroom before being carried back to the bed and lovingly placed back down onto the
mattress.

From the point when the second-stage bonding started their bodies would feel no urges
other than for sex and replenishment of fluids.

The next ten minutes was spent in foreplay, teasing and caressing Harry into an eager and
wanton creature in his arms. When Harry desperately cried out for Draco to enter him,
Draco knew that it was time. Two pillows were hastily placed under his mate’s hips to
raise him up and Draco used his wand to create a jar of lubrication on the bed beside him.

Eagerly but carefully, Draco prepared Harry’s passage for his entry and slicked up his
erection. When he could withstand the call of his soul no longer, Draco pushed steadily
into Harry’s body until he was seated deep. Harry’s channel was tight and Draco knew
that his push in caused pain to his mate, he leaned forward to lick away the tears of pain
he’d caused and kiss the eyelids of his beautiful, beautiful mate.

Draco withdrew his penis past the tight silken walls of Harry’s channel and whimpered a
little himself at the friction. He withdrew almost completely out of Harry’s body before
slamming home again. Draco repeated this process again and again until Harry’s channel
loosened around him and then changed his angle to thrust at Harry’s prostate. He
pounded the pleasure spot deep inside his lover and mate until Harry orgasmed around
him without any external prompting from him – there would be very little of that for the
next while – this was for procreation, pleasure was an added bonus.

The walls of Harry’s channel rippled endlessly around him as Harry orgasmed and they
milked the first orgasm from Draco’s body. Draco felt his semen leave his penis in
repeated jets and called out his triumph. Harry’s joyous cry mingled with his own and
Draco bit gently at the juncture of Harry’s shoulder and neck, marking his mate as his
own.

Last night, when resting in the dark between their bouts of lovemaking, Draco had – at
Harry’s request – clinically explained what would follow when the second stage started.
Draco would conjure glasses of water to them to replenish fluids during the mating, but,
from the point when the process started, they wouldn’t leave the bed for the next two
days… and from the point when Draco’s penis entered Harry’s body, it wouldn’t leave it
for that time frame either.

Draco’s erection would never soften completely though it would soften enough from time
to time that they could lie on their sides and rest – though Draco would still need to be
intimately buried in Harry while they slept.

For the two days of the second stage process, Draco would claim and mount his mate
twisting him from position to position to suit their needs – he could partially withdraw
from Harry’s body to make movement easier, but he could never completely leave it.
Each time Draco came, Harry’s body would absorb the semen and the special fluid used
to aid with male procreation into the tissues of his body. The semen and the fluid would
build up and build up until the saturation point had been reached.

The next orgasm the Veela released into his mate’s body after saturation point was
reached would trigger the change. The combined magic of the bound pair – along with
the semen and fluid absorbed by the submissive mate of the Veela – would result in the
creation of a temporary womb in the mate’s body and the first spark of life, which was
the child of the bonding.

The pregnancy would last for nine months and the baby would be birthed out of the
mate’s back passage, which would expand when labour commenced to allow the child to
be born. From the moment that the baby was conceived, breasts would slowly develop on
the Veela’s mate and, once the baby was born, both the child and the Veela would feed
from them once a day for the first four months after the baby was born.

Draco focused his full attention on the incredible sight of his mate’s face in the afterglow
of bliss and began thrusting deep again. He fully intended to make the creation of their
child something neither of them would ever forget. Spurting deep into Harry again, Draco
could swear that he could literally feel the tissues of Harry’s passage absorbing the semen
he had pumped so deep into Harry’s arse.

His penis softened slightly so Draco gently manoeuvered them so that Harry was lying
nestled on top of his chest and indulged them both with some lazy kisses and caressed
him. He wanted to thank his mate for the astonishing gift of love that Harry had bestowed
on him… and show his humble appreciation for Harry’s eager willingness to honour their
bond and carry their child. They had a long way to go yet in this second stage bonding
and Draco wanted to show Harry that he was loved.

************************************************************************
Five days later, Draco accompanied Harry to the site of his and Lupin’s main emergency
drop box to see the message it contained. There was no way he would let his pregnant
mate go anywhere now without his own presence, (or someone else he trusted implicitly),
to guard Harry and protect him from harm.

The message said that Snape and Lupin had made progress in identifying the traitor and
instructed Harry to rendezvous at a pre-arranged point in the surprisingly Slytherin
emergency plan that Harry and Lupin had concocted between them.

The complete astonishment on the faces of Lupin and Snape when both he and Harry
Apparated to the flat in Wizarding Paris was rather amusing. The utter relief in Severus’
eyes had Draco hugging his godfather even before he realised he was moving.

At the chuckles of the two former Gryffindors, Draco released his godfather to allow him
to once again don the mask of a true Slytherin. To his complete surprise, Severus didn’t
do that. Instead, Snape put his hands on either side of his face and gazed deep into his
eyes – it felt like Severus was searching his soul.

Draco felt his jaw drop in surprise when his godfather smiled a bright smile of joy… and
felt the world tilt on its axis when Severus approached Harry and extended his hand
towards his mate’s stomach with an almost timid, “May I?”

Lupin moved the hand that had been resting on his surrogate godson’s stomach and
allowed the fearsome and fabled Potions master of Hogwarts to do the same. “I’m not
sure how this came about Pot- Harry, but I am very, very pleased for you both.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Severus. We are delighted too.”

After a lengthy explanation and dinner, Draco got down to business. Hand clasped in
Harry’s as they sat side by side on the couch, Draco asked the question that both he and
his mate were eager to know, “Who is the traitor?”

************************************************************************
Severus and Remus looked at each other with an expression that spoke volumes but did
not answer Draco’s question about the identity of the traitor. A sinking feeling settled in
Harry’s heart as he realised that the traitor’s identity was probably going to affect him on
a profoundly personal level. The revelation about Dumbledore’s unconscionable
manipulation had been bad enough… he hadn’t really wanted to face the fact that this
was going to be another betrayal by someone he trusted.

Hanging onto Draco’s hand like the lifeline it had become in this sea of intrigue, Harry
repeated his mate’s question: “Who is the traitor?”

The two older men exchanged another look and Remus indicated with a small hand
gesture for Severus to say the words that Harry was dreading to hear.

“I’m sorry, boys, more sorry than I can possibly say. Remus and I may be cut off from
Order resources right now but that doesn’t mean we don’t have access to our own sources
of information – in both camps. My source gave the name and Remus verified it through
one of his own.”

“Who?” whispered Harry.

“Ginny Weasley.”

“No, no, no, no, no…” The strong chest of his mate muffled Harry’s anguished protest as
Draco pulled him into a comforting embrace. The sitting room of their Parisian hideout
settled into an uneasy silence as the two younger men came to terms with a personal
betrayal from someone they had gone to school with… Draco sorrier about the affect it
had on his distraught mate, Harry feeling his heart break at the betrayal of his soul-
sibling. Ginny had become as dear to him as Ron had over the years.

“Why?” was the next anguished question from Harry as he rested his head on his mate’s
shoulder, soaking up the silent support and love being offered by Draco’s embrace.

It was Remus that responded this time. With a snort that clearly expressed his own
thoughts on the matter, the werewolf said, “Bitterness and jealousy about you spurning
her advances.”

“But she’s my sister!”

“Harry,” said Severus gently – a tone Harry was still not used to hearing coming out of
the other man’s mouth, “she may have publicly shown you the acceptance of being the
‘sister’ that loved you but that is not what she really wanted of you, nor was it what her
addle-brained mother wanted.

“It’s been an unspoken bit of rumour in the Order for months that Molly and her family
wanted you married off to their youngest daughter to cement their own ties within the
Order hierarchy and present a positive hope to the Wizarding community in general – or
some other such drivel – about the romance and marriage of the Wizarding world’s hero
and his childhood sweetheart.”

Harry shook his head in sad disbelief as he rested in the embrace of his mate and didn’t
see the assessing gaze that Draco gave to his godfather. He felt the rumble of Draco’s
chest though as his mate asked another question, “What else aren’t you saying, Uncle
Severus?”

Harry closed his eyes to shut out the world. Dumbledore had betrayed him… as had
Ginny Weasley, and, by the sounds of things, her mother… what else could possibly go
wrong in his life?

He heard the reluctant voice of Severus Snape saying, “Remus and I managed to confirm
something else. The entire Order apart from Remus knew – and forgive me for being
indelicate – that you had sniffed Harry out as your mate.

“Remus and Harry were told nothing, you and I were told Dumbledore’s lie… the rest of
the Order – with the backing of those in the Ministry that support the fight – approved the
deception and it was ratified as Order policy in a secret meeting of the Council.”

Harry felt a slow burning anger begin to boil in his blood and unbeknownst to him, the
picture frames and ornaments in the living room began to shake. Strong hands pulled his
face up to his mate’s face and Draco’s lips whispered against his own, “Calm down, love.
Calm thoughts.

“They’ll pay… I promise you they’ll pay.”

Harry opened his eyes and glanced around the room noticing the visible affects of his
anger for the first time. He pressed his lips to Draco’s and inwardly tried to calm his
thoughts, using the love and concern expressed in Draco’s kiss back to him as an anchor.
Slowly, the room’s fixings stopped shaking and a pregnant silence fell.

Harry looked over at the two older men that were eyeing him with some concern and
smiled tiredly at them. “Sorry about that, gentlemen. I know we need to decide on a plan
of action but would you mind terribly if I go lie down for a bit first?”

Remus smiled reassuringly at him and the loving concern in his surrogate godfather’s
gaze eased some of the tension out of Harry’s body. “Of course not, Harry. The bedrooms
are through that corridor. Severus and I are in the one on the first left. We had planned on
you and Draco - if he was able to come – taking one of the other two rooms. Feel free
now to pick either one that you both want to use.”

Harry blushed slightly at that but rose to his feet and extended his hand to his mate
silently asking Draco to accompany him. They excused themselves and soon settled on
the third bedroom along the corridor, situated on the right hand side.

Harry kicked off his shoes and socks and pulled off the pullover he was wearing and his
trousers. Leaving his boxers on for now, he climbed into the bed and curled on his side
and gazed up into the concerned silver eyes of his mate as Draco crouched down next to
the bed. “I’m sorry, Draco. I just… I need to lie down and clear my head for a bit. Do you
mind?”

A gentle hand caressing his hair was his response and Harry sighed happily at the gesture.
“Of course I don’t mind, you silly git. It’s more of a blow for you than it is for me I know
that. Take all the time you need, love.

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

Harry shook his head and smiled at his mate. “Thanks for offering, but no. Go do some
strategising with the others, you know you want to.”

Draco grinned at him and Harry chuckled. A quick kiss was pressed to his forehead and
Harry replied with a soft “love you too”.

Draco had got as far as the doorway before Harry thought of one more thing. He called
out, “Draco, wait a sec.”

His mate turned with a slightly confused expression on his face so Harry grinned to
reassure him. “While you’re plotting with them, see if you can figure out how long
they’ve been an item.”

Draco chuckled in response and nodded his agreement, switching off the lights and
closing the door behind him as he left.
Harry rolled over onto his back and shut his eyes as he tried to block out the world.
Pictures of past and happy memories from Hogwarts swam through his mind but they
kept being overlaid with the memory of the two crumpled and unconscious forms that he
and Remus had rescued from Stewarton Abbey. Hand resting on his flat stomach and
over where his baby would grow inside him, Harry Potter settled into an uneasy sleep.

************************************************************************
That evening, after having shared dinner with his mate and their other two, (and
seemingly only two), true companions in the quagmire of betrayal and double-crossing
that they found themselves in, Harry listened to his mate explain the thoughts of the three
‘plotters’ about what they’d discussed that afternoon. Draco had been appointed
spokesman for their thoughts.

“The way the three of us see it, Harry love, is that we have several distinct areas of
concern. The first being that – betrayal aside – the Order’s goal is still the same as ours…
to prevent Voldemort coming to power.

“This is an issue because with our responses to some of the other concerns that I’m going
to cover, we could conceivably cripple or destroy the Order as an effective force – and
would be within our legal rights to do so.”

Draco raised a hand to forestall the questions that Harry was about to ask and said,
“There’s a lot more, Harry, wait till I’m done.” Harry shut his mouth and nodded his
understanding.

“Fact two: we have a traitor in the Order… one that Dumbledore seems to be ignoring in
a classic ‘cut his nose off to spite his face’ type of thing. He’s so focused on bringing the
four of us to heel that he’s ignoring a potential disaster.

“Fact three: what you don’t know – because the school curriculum has always been
ridiculously biased in favour of what the Ministry thinks a person should and should not
know, never mind whether things are glossed over or clearly misinterpreted – is that what
Dumbledore did to me – and you – is not only morally repugnant, it is illegal.

“To deliberately subvert a Veela bonding or try to prevent it has been illegal for
centuries. The only person that can block a bond is the person that the Veela needs to
mate with – if they choose to refuse. The penalty for anyone else interfering is severe…
the old punishments were much more appropriate but the current legal statutes say that, if
found guilty of such a crime, the person responsible can face up to ten years in Azkaban.

“Fact four, we can’t be entirely sure that Dumbledore won’t find it in the best interests of
his war to get his weapon – you – back on track and under control by either threatening
any of the three of us with harm, or worse, killing or containing us and aborting the baby
you carry.”

The contents of the living room began to shake again so Draco paused his recounting of
the afternoon’s plotting and waited until Harry managed to get himself under control.
Harry nodded when he was calmer, both hands resting protectively on his stomach, and
Draco nodded his acknowledgement and continued with their shopping list of problems.

“Fact five, though this is a blessing and not just a problem, you are with child. As the
pregnancy progresses and your magic levels fluctuate you will become increasingly more
vulnerable. We have to look to your protection – both during the pregnancy and in the
first few months after the birth. With a Dark Lord fixated on finding and killing you that
is not exactly going to be easy.

“We’re sure there will be more, but I’m sure you’ll agree that this is enough to be going
on with.”

Harry’s response to the list of woes facing them was a heartfelt, “What a fucking mess.”

The other three men in the room choked on the laughter they tried to repress but the
situation overwhelmed their restraint and a brief bout of hysterical laughter followed for
all of them.

Draco sat on one of the huge armchairs and held open his arms in invitation to his mate.
Harry needed no further prompting and moved from his own seat to the comfort of his
mate’s embrace. To Harry’s great delight, Severus raised one arm and Remus moved
from his own seat to rest nestled against Severus’ body on the couch that they were now
sharing.

For the remainder of the evening the two couples discussed their situation and tried to
figure out what they could possibly do to extricate themselves from the web of betrayal
they found themselves in – without crippling the opposition to Lord Voldemort. Yawning
as he rested in Draco’s arms, Harry said, “It’s a pity we can’t find a way to arrange a
temporary ceasefire with Voldemort and be sure he would stick to it.

“It’d give us the time we need to deal with our own problems and let Draco and I have
the baby in relative peace and safety. Of course, after the ceasefire, the murderous bastard
would need to be taken down quick because there’s no way we’re having a psychopath
after our baby as well as us.”

The gobsmacked expressions on the faces of the other men caused Harry to laugh heartily
and he said, “Don’t freak out on me, guys. It’s a pipe dream. There’s no way to approach
Voldemort about a ceasefire and how the hell could we ever make sure it could be trusted
that he’d keep it? It was just frustration talking.”

Harry retired to bed at just after ten p.m. and left the ‘plotters’ to their plotting. The highs
and lows of the last days were beginning to catch up with him and he needed to rest. The
potential threat to his health and well-being - from the good guys and the bad guys -
would have to wait until morning. If his body told him it needed rest it would get rest. He
wasn’t just thinking about himself now; he had another life to look after.

Harry roused briefly at around one a.m. when Draco slipped into bed beside him. A soft
kiss to his bare shoulder reassured him that all was well and he fell asleep again as he felt
his mate spooning up behind him, a possessive and loving hand resting on his bare hip.
Draco’s presence soothed him and he fell into a deeper level of sleep than he had
managed before.

************************************************************************
Over breakfast the next morning, Harry thought he showed incredible restraint in
managing not to choke on the orange juice he had just swallowed when Severus
announced that, “We think we’ve come up with a way to get Voldemort to agree to a
ceasefire and not break it.”

****************************
“You’re kidding me, aren’t you?”

The three solemn faces staring at him negated that thought before Remus said, “No,
Harry, we are not.”

“It was just a crazy idea that I had!”

Harry didn’t know whether to glare or laugh at Severus when he muttered something
about only the insane offspring of James Potter being able to come up with an idea so
crazy that it might just possibly work, so he settled for an inquiring frown.

Remus clearly opted to be the voice of reason. “Harry,” he said, “your ‘crazy’ idea as
Severus has colourfully put it, is not without merit. There are a few things on this earth
that scare even Voldemort – we can use that.”

Harry shook his head in disbelief but Remus continued, “Voldemort knows a lot about
the Dark Arts, Harry, but there are other groups out there that do too… and not all of
them look favourably on him. Remember, many of the spells that are considered ‘dark’
are not inherently evil.

“Think of them like a Muggle gun, which is an instrument capable of maiming or killing
if used for that purpose, but, in the hands of a person like a soldier or a police officer
defending an innocent life, its purpose can be for the greater good. Intent is the key.

“From research and old intelligence gathered by the Order, we know that a couple of
those groups of Dark Arts practitioners turned down Voldemort and would not teach him.
They knew his intent was evil. More to the point, however reluctantly, Voldemort did not
press the issue with them.

“He’s been learning about the Dark Arts for decades, these groups have been doing so for
centuries or, in some cases, over a millennium. Voldemort knows full well that while he
may have more raw power, they have the knowledge. Enough of them working together
can contain him - so he goes out of his way not to cause them offence.”

Fascinated by the story, Harry demanded of Remus, “Then why have the Order or the
Ministry never approached these groups for aid before?”

Pouring out another cup of tea for them all from the teapot that had been sitting warming
on the table, Remus gently told him to: “Think, Harry. Dark Arts groups… do you really
think Dumbledore or the Ministry would ever be willing to approach them?”

Harry sighed and nodded his understanding. It had been a stupid question to ask when
you considered whom he was talking about. Instead, he asked, “So which group do you
want to approach and why would they help us?”

Severus took over the explanation at that point. “All three of us have talked over the
options and agree that it would be best to start with the most powerful of the groups, and
the one that Voldemort would be least likely to want to cross… the Council of the
Necromancers.”

Harry knew his eyes had probably widened in astonishment to comic book proportions,
but felt it was an understandable and restrained reaction. “Necromancers?”

Severus almost smiled. “They don’t go about resurrecting people willy-nilly, Pot- Harry.
Nor do they ever do so for evil perverted purposes.

“The methodology behind how they do what they do is a secret that no necromancer has
ever betrayed and, because it couldn’t be explained, labeled or categorised - and more to
the point, because they wouldn’t tell the power hungry who asked how to do it - the
practice was labeled Dark over a millennium ago and the practitioners have been treated
as ‘evil’ ever since.”

“Why would they even consider helping us then? More to the point, guys, what possible
reason would make Voldemort agree to a ceasefire monitored by the necromancers –
which is, I presume, what you are suggesting?”

Draco – who had been silently watchful up till now – took his turn with the explanation
for the strategy that had been developed while Harry slept.

He said, “We think the necromancers will agree because it will annoy the hell out of
Dumbledore, the Order and the Ministry, as well as giving them a chance to affect a
change for the better in their perception by the magical races in our community.

“We know there are no guarantees that they will say yes, and, if they do, they’ll probably
demand a payment of some type… and it’s entirely possible that it will be a payment that
we aren’t willing to pay. They are the first group we will approach but they certainly
aren’t the only option we have.”

Harry smiled at his mate – he couldn’t help it. They hadn’t even been together for two
weeks, yet he could no longer imagine his life without Draco’s presence in it beside him.
His smile was at odds with the seriousness of his question as he said, “And Voldemort,
why would he agree?”

All three of the men that were now his chosen family grew sombre. It was Severus who
took up the explanation of their strategy again. “Contacting the necromancers and asking
for aid has not been tried in centuries. Even so, that seems simpler than what we’re
asking you to consider with regard to Voldemort, Harry.”

Harry placed down his teacup and said resolutely said, “Tell me the worst.”

“A factor in our favour will be if we can get the necromancers. The fact that we
approached them and got them to agree will undoubtedly surprise the Dark Lord - at the
very least. If we are lucky it will do even better and actually unnerve him.

“The thing all three of us consider the plus factor is that fact that you – and it will be an
approach directly on your behalf – are asking for the ceasefire so you can take
Dumbledore, the Order and the Ministry to task. Not even Voldemort has ever tried to
subvert a Veela bonding the way they have done, so he’ll watch with glee as you go after
them and make them pay.”

“There’s no way that will be enough, though,” protested Harry.

Severus simply said, “You’re right, of course. We think that would be enough to get him
to initially agree and perhaps keep a ceasefire for a couple of months but we’ll need to do
more if we want it kept for the eighteen months that we think we should ask for.”

“Define more?” demanded Harry warily.

Draco took up the responsibility for the next bit of the strategy explanation. “We think
it’s going to take a demonstration of good will and a gift. The demonstration will have to
be big… we’re thinking that arranging the release of my father from Azkaban ought to do
it.

“Lucius was definitely his brightest lieutenant and, more importantly, a source of a lot of
money and resources. Some will undoubtedly have been left open to the Dark Lord but
most will have dried up with my father’s incarceration. We’ll give him back his money
man.”

“But--"

“Don’t worry, love. My father is an evil bastard but an eminently practical man. He’d
keep to the ceasefire too. More importantly, my father is a logical man too. I’m beyond
his reach and, more to the point; I will no longer be wanted if I am mated to you.

“On the other hand, you are carrying his first and only grandchild. Voldemort wins and
we die, father will simply have to create another heir. You win and he dies, the Malfoy
succession is already assured. It is a win-win situation from his point of view. He’ll sign
over the monies held in trust for his first grandchild and he can’t touch my own trust
funds. For all I care, he can give Voldemort the rest to dance naked on.

“He’ll see the sense in covering the family’s bases.”

Harry gaped at his mate and then chuckled helplessly. It was such a Malfoy way of
looking at things. “You are the Malfoy here, Draco; I’ll take your word on that.

“What gift were you three madmen thinking of offering to the psychopath if the good will
gesture is getting Lucius released?”

“We tell Voldemort the full prophecy.”

Harry opened his mouth but then he found himself to be at a loss for words. It had been
ingrained into his mind for so long that Sirius had died because of the damn prophecy and
that it had to be kept secret from Voldemort, for so long… he had honestly not thought to
think about the damn thing any other way.

What exactly did it matter though if Voldemort did learn its secret? It wouldn’t exactly
change anything. Voldemort would simply be more intent on killing him – nothing new
there. He knew that to be free of the madman that they would have to have it out one day.
With a mate and a child in his life now, Harry had something worth fighting for now,
something he would die for and, far more importantly, something he would kill for.

If they got this ceasefire then he’d have a relative space of time to breathe, to live, to
love, and to have his child. After that, all that would happen is that the fight would be
back on and the gloves would be off. Eighteen months of relative peace for him and the
wider Wizarding community for the price of telling Voldemort something that wouldn’t
really change that much anyway… was it worth it? Yes.

Harry smiled at the only three people alive that he trusted with his life and said, “How do
we contact the necromancers?”

Explosive sighs were released by Severus, Remus and Draco when they realised that
Harry was willing to consider their rather daring strategy, and the planning session was
moved from the breakfast table to the living room as they began to talk through the
details of trying the almost impossible.

************************************************************************
At ten p.m. that night, Harry was walking through the corridors of their Parisian
hideaway as silently as he could. He wanted a glass of milk before bed. Draco had teased
him gently about it being too early for food cravings and had been gifted with a brief
tickling charm as a result, something that was justified, felt Harry. He was thirsty, that
was all. If his body told him it needed anything it would get it. He would never hurt his
child.

The doorway to the living room was open and it was softly lit and not dark so Harry’s
eyes were drawn to look inside. The sight that greeted them was a new one to him but no
longer a surprise, and no longer one that was unwelcome as it probably would have been
a few months ago.

Sprawled on the couch in the living room, Severus and Remus were entwined in the
middle of a heated embrace. One of Remus’ hands clutched at Severus’ back and the
other was buried in Severus’ dark hair as he lay over the werewolf, devouring Remus’
lips in a heated embrace.

Blushing slightly, Harry averted his eyes and made his trip to and from the kitchen as
quickly and quietly as he could. Remus was his surrogate godfather and it was akin to
watching his dad snogging. It was wonderful that Remus was so clearly happy with
Severus and vice versa, they were both long overdue for some happiness in their lives.

When he returned to the bedroom he shared with Draco, Harry silently stripped out of his
clothes and climbed into bed beside his Veela mate. Draco had gently asked him earlier if
he felt in any way unhappy with their new relationship and Harry had been quick to
reassure his mate.

Yes, he was new to sex… and yes, he’d become pregnant on the second day of his sexual
life. He was completely and utterly happy with the way things were between them
though, and had unreservedly told Draco so. It was nice to be coddled and protected and
humbling to be so loved.

Draco, for all that he was dominant in their bonding, wasn’t treating him like a girl or a
sissy though. He knew that Harry would have to have the lead in the fight against
Voldemort, newly bonded and currently pregnant or not. Draco would stand beside him
and support him always, and that gift would do more to help Harry find the courage to
fight than any dozen rousing speeches from Dumbledore, or outright demands from a
Wizarding public too lazy and cosseted to do anything in aid of their well-being.

When under the covers, Harry quickly curled up into the waiting and welcoming arms of
his mate and asked Draco to continue his instruction of what to expect in carrying the
child of his Veela mate. Harry was startled to hear a few of the things that Draco knew
from his own lessons about Veelas and their mates from when he was younger… startled
and excited.

Eventually though, Draco decided lesson time was over for the night and gently
manoeuvered him onto his back and began to make love to him with single-minded
devotion, ever careful of the tiny spark of life now cradled in the magic womb created in
his stomach by their bonding.

With infinite patience, his mate wrung the first orgasm of the night out of him and
swallowed down the essence of the pleasure he released, and then Harry was gently
prepared for entry and Draco proceeded to love him to the very point of ecstasy and over
the other side, wringing the second orgasm of the night out of him and inundating him
with the heated pleasure of his Veela love in the very centre of his being.
Draco rested in his body afterwards and began to ever so gently move his softened penis
in Harry’s smooth channel. Draco’s thrusts were infinitesimally small and Harry felt his
body spark to each gentle thrust, passion rising slowly in his blood again as Draco gently
worked himself to a full erection again without ever leaving his body, releasing another
orgasm deep within him. As seemed to be the case with nearly every encounter, Harry
felt himself orgasm at the same time as his mate did, his penis releasing more come at the
same time as Draco filled him again.

Harry released a sigh of profound loss when Draco eventually withdrew from his body. It
was a sigh of complete contentment that he released a few moments later when he felt a
warm washcloth cleansing his stomach, penis and lower body of excess come. Draco
preferred to use a warm washcloth if possible and Harry agreed with Draco’s assessment
that it was far more intimate to be taken care of by his lover than to simply have a
cleansing charm spoken over his skin.

Draco drew him into his arms afterwards and softly told him to go to sleep. Safe, content
and completely loved, Harry did so.

************************************************************************
Two days later, Severus returned from his trip to the Council of Necromancers with a
representative of the Council in tow. It was a tense silence that the pair entered into,
which lasted until Harry actually saw the fearsome necromancer that he had built up a
picture of in his mind.

While his head told him that the man in front of him knew enough Dark Arts that he
probably scared Voldemort, his heart told him that the man in question was the ‘height of
nonsense’ as Aunt Petunia had called him before he had grown – she’d meant it derisorily
of course.

The fearsome necromancer was lucky if he was over five feet in height, looked to be
older than dirt and wore his white hair in a ponytail, which was reminiscent of the way
Bill Weasley had used to wear his hair last year. Harry acted instinctively and offered the
old man a cup of tea.

Severus, Remus and Draco goggled at him after he made his offer but the old man just
smiled and said, “Yes, please” to the tea. It got better as far as Harry was concerned. He
realised the man had probably been chosen as the representative of the necromancers
specifically because of his unassuming appearance, but he couldn’t find it in himself to
be scared of a man called Lionel, he just couldn’t.

After tea the serious business of talking got under way. After all, if they couldn’t reach an
agreement on what payment the necromancers wanted for their services in being the third
party observers in ensuring that a ceasefire was achieved and not breached, then no
progress would be made at all and another Dark Arts group would need to be approached.

Things did not go well because tentative promises of changes in legislation or offers of
assistance if called upon by the necromancers were not what Lionel said they wanted, he
also politely declined monetary remuneration saying they were who the Gringotts goblins
approached if they needed a loan. Foregoing all the delicate verbal dancing his other
three companions were doing, Harry flat-out asked Lionel what the necromancers wanted
and why.

None of the four of them were prepared for the answer Lionel gave them.

The necromancers – as Lionel explained it – took the business of their chosen role very
seriously. They maintained stringent security precautions and had meticulously kept
records of every ‘body’ raised and every response to every question that the ‘body’ had
been asked. The necromancers considered themselves the true history keepers of the
magical races.

Disaster had occurred almost a hundred years ago when a proportion of one of their
British record archives had been lost to fire. It had taken to the present day to reconstruct
half of what had been lost. They had mapped out a plan to restore the knowledge and it
would take another six decades to bring the archive back up to what had once been –
minus one entry.

Lionel refused to say anything about the potions they used to sanctify the areas they
worked in – or how they could communicate with the spirit of someone whose body had
long since turned to dust – he only assured them it was possible. He said that he had been
permitted to reveal only two pieces of information. If the body was still accessible, blood
from a descendant became a key ingredient in the sanctifying potion. If the body was
inaccessible then blood alone would not suffice… blood needed to be combined with
another component willingly donated by the descendant.

The missing entry in the archive was from Godric Gryffindor and Harry Potter was his
last descendant. They wanted a donation of two vials of his blood and the afterbirth from
the birth of the child he now carried. There was one very rare, very ancient potion they
could make with the help of those ingredients that would summon Gryffindor for a brief
enough time for them to restore their archive.

Harry had calmly risen from his seat, extended his hand to his astounded mate and asked
Lionel to excuse them while they discussed the matter privately.

Two hours later, they returned to the living room. This time, Draco pulled Harry to sit on
his lap rather than having him sit in the chair he had been using previously. Harry sat, his
mate’s hands clearly visible as they protectively cradled his stomach, and said that they
agreed to the terms on the proviso that the Council of Necromancers signed a binding
Wizarding contract to say that was all that the blood and afterbirth would be used for, and
that it would only be used once… and that Lionel stipulated to the Council that if
Voldemort didn’t agree to the ceasefire - or if he broke it in the nine months leading up to
the birth of the child through necromancer negligence in curtailing his actions - then all
agreements would be null and void.
Lionel took his leave and informed them that he would contact them once the Council
had deliberated fully on the terms that Harry Potter had specified.

************************************************************************
Two days later, Lionel sent an owl asking for a conference and informed them that the
Council agreed to the terms and awaited the contract they needed to sign.

Within a week, the agreement was in place, and the Council of Necromancers made the
first overture to the first Death Eater they found to inform the Dark Lord that they wished
a meeting.

Forty-eight hours later, Lionel, their new liaison with the Council, informed them that
Voldemort had agreed to a meeting on neutral ground between himself and three
lieutenants and Harry Potter and his three chosen representatives. The Council of
Necromancers guaranteed the safety of all parties.

Two days later, all four men were dressed in black combat gear adapted from Muggle
designs and concepts, and ready and waiting on Lionel to escort them to the meeting.

When Lionel appeared, Harry nodded his head in polite greeting, hugged both Severus
and Remus and kissed his mate softly. Draco ensured the kiss was far more passionate
before releasing his lips and Harry saw out of the corner his eye that Severus released
Remus’ lips a short moment thereafter.

Harry took a deep breath and addressed Lionel saying, “We’re ready. Take us to
Voldemort.”

************************************************************************
Lionel took them by way of Portkey, which dropped them into the middle of nowhere – it
was a scenic and incredibly beautiful nowhere, but nowhere nonetheless. Harry cast a
curious eye in the necromancer’s direction and Lionel said, “A nice secluded little valley
in the north of Wales. Muggle family members of the necromancers live in every house,
farm and cottage in the valley. Nothing happens here without us knowing about it.”

Looking around, Remus beat Harry to the question he was going to ask next and said,
“Where are we meeting them?”

“There is a Wizarding marquee set up in a meadow about ten minutes walk from here.
My colleague Nigel will be escorting Voldemort’s party. We will meet them there.”

Harry gave Lionel an incredulous look at the revelation of his compatriot’s name and the
older man simply smiled and winked, eyes twinkling in a manner reminiscent of the first
and second years at Hogwarts and when Dumbledore looked at him with a twinkle in his
eyes that expressed approval. The difference being… Harry knew Lionel knew that he
knew what Lionel was doing and that he was not manipulating him. The simple fact that
Lionel treated him with even that minor bit of courtesy put him far ahead of the way
Dumbledore had treated him lately.
Lionel led the way and Harry walked at his side, Draco walking slightly behind and to
Harry’s right, ever watchful of his mate. Severus and Remus walked a couple of paces
behind them, instinctively guarding the rear.

All too soon, they reached the huge marquee that was their meeting place. The flap was
raised and Lionel said that Nigel and his party would already be waiting inside. Harry
took a deep breath, sent a reassuring smile to his mate and to the two men that
accompanied him, and he then motioned Lionel to enter the marquee first. It was show
time.

************************************************************************
Ten minutes later, Harry had never been so proud to know Draco, Remus or Severus.
Lionel and Nigel had re-emphasised the neutrality of this meeting about the proposed
truce, stressing to “Thomas” and “Harry” not to breach the pre-agreed terms of the
meeting.

Harry recognised all three of the Death Eaters that accompanied Voldemort from his
many visions and nightmares of the madman’s activities; he fought silently to restrain
himself at the sight of the scowling Bellatrix Lestrange. He wordlessly commended
Remus for not ripping her limb from limb the moment he spotted her. Draco and Severus
remained silent and prepared for anything in the face of the initial taunting offered by the
other two Death Eaters with Voldemort.

Actually surprising him, it was Voldemort that asked the first sensible question of the
meeting. He thought he’d have to endure a series of speeches on both sides before
Voldemort actually deigned to speak to him. Harry actually began to believe then that his
own crazy idea might work.

“Why are we here, Potter?”

“I want a truce for eighteen months, guaranteed by us both.”

“I know that, boy. What I want to know is why you’d ever even entertain the idea that I
would agree to such a truce?”

Harry buffed his nails lightly over the thigh of the combat trousers he was wearing and
then looked up into the red-veined eyes of the Dark Lord (and the madman that had been
trying to kill him as long as he had been alive) and said,

“Oh, let’s see… Maybe because during those eighteen months that I want you to agree to,
I’ll be going after Dumbledore, The Order and the Ministry of Magic?”

Now there was sight you didn’t see every day of the week, Lord Voldemort… speechless.

“What?!” Harry thought that was a quite restrained response on the part of the Dark Lord
considering the circumstances.
“Are you changing sides, Potter?” Now that question was just stupid.

Harry could see that Voldemort hadn’t really believed it as a possibility but he made sure
his own feelings were clear with a hard gaze into the other man’s red eyed gaze and said,
“Not a chance in hell. After the truce I fully intend on taking you down for good.”

Voldemort moved to the table of refreshments that the necromancers had obviously set
up for them and poured two glasses of wine for them. It was a momentous gesture for
him to offer one of them to Harry so he was respectful when he refused it and said, “I
thank you for the gesture, truly. I am not presently able to drink alcohol though, so I must
decline.”

Voldemort inclined his head in acknowledgement and returned the second glass to the
table and poured a new glass, this time of water. This one Harry accepted with thanks and
Voldemort said to him, “All right, you have my attention. Explain why I should agree to
a truce if you fully intend to oppose me as soon as it ends – and why are you going after
your own people?”

Harry sipped briefly at his water and then looked over to his mate and with a simple gaze,
wordlessly requested his presence. Draco moved to stand behind him and slightly to the
right again, guarding… watchful.

Harry took a step closer to his mate and leaned back against Draco’s chest, pulling one of
the blonde’s hands to rest on his stomach. Instinctively, Draco held him cradled close and
safe.

Voldemort’s slight eyebrows were threatening to take up residence in what was left of his
hairline so Harry patted gently at Draco’s hand to release him and thanked his mate with
a smile. He then answered the question burning in Voldemort’s red eyes.

Allowing his own still-burning rage over what had happened to Draco and, as a
consequence, to him, to shine through, Harry said, “There are two main reasons for the
truce that I want from you. The first I’m sure you won’t like; the second – I have been
assured by my own advisors, is something that any pure-blood wizard - or those that
champion the rights of the pure-blood wizard - would feel honour-bound to support.

“Firstly the Order… particularly the Weasley’s, as well as the highest levels of the
Ministry, and most of all, Dumbledore – have over-stepped their bounds and wronged
people on their own side in doing so, and all for purely selfish reasons. I want the
opportunity to put my own house in order. They will be held accountable and they will
make restitution or pay the full consequences.

“I make no secret of the fact that after the truce I intend that we end things between us
once and for all. I just don’t want to have to face you and be worried about betrayal from
my own side at the same time.”
Voldemort said nothing though Harry could see that he was thinking hard on what he had
said. It was time to put the cat truly among the pigeons.

“The reason I refused the wine earlier is an indirect result of the second reason I want the
truce. The wrong done by my own side was done to me and to Draco. Knowing full-well
what they were doing, Dumbledore and the others interfered with a Veela bonding.”

“They did what?!”

Eyes showing his rage, Harry said, “Draco sensed me out as his mate at the end of our
seventh year at Hogwarts. He knew it was going to present difficulties so he approached
Severus as his Head of House first of all to try and figure out how best to proceed. He
was summoned to Dumbledore’s office the next day and told that I had refused the bond
and was ordered to take the stabilising potion.

“I have been informed that Dumbledore made the initial decision, but both the Order
Council and the Ministry fully endorsed the decision and ordered the secret kept. Severus
made the potions Draco required believing I had refused the bond, but Remus and I were
never told. Everyone else on the side of the almighty Light knew about it though.”

“Outrageous!” Voldemort was actually incensed on his behalf and Harry found the entire
concept too bizarre to contemplate. The other Death Eaters – except for Bellatrix, who
was still apparently in a strop about a possible truce – seemed equally as annoyed, Lionel
and Nigel didn’t look best pleased either.

“When we rescued Draco and Severus from Stewarton Abbey, we did it on an

unsanctioned mission. We split up immediately afterwards for their protection. While
Draco and I were secluded together the truth came out.

“I accepted the bonding, of course. I am now Draco’s mate… and more, I carry our
child.”

Voldemort’s gaze ran over all four of them and the gaze was a mixture of stunned and
extremely speculative. “In accordance with tradition, Potter, I offer you congratulations
on your bonding and the impending birth of your child.

“It is highly tempting to agree to this truce, if for no other reason than to imagine that old
meddling bastard’s face when he finds out. However, I still don’t see what is in it for me.
This seems to benefit you and give you time to prepare and regroup and come after my
own forces all the stronger.”

Harry smiled at the Dark Lord and he could see that it was not something that Voldemort
often saw directed his way. “I’m prepared to offer three things to you in return for your
agreement to the truce and to allow me to deal with Dumbledore and the others in my
own way.”
“I’m listening.”

There was minute shifting in the stances of Remus, Severus and Draco when he said three
things, Harry could hear them behind him. Even so, he kept his full gaze on the wizard in
front of him who was actually beginning to see him as an equal in this meeting and not
just putting a show on for the watching necromancers.

“In return for your agreement to a truce monitored and enforced by the necromancers –
on both our sides – I will give you three things.

“I will give you the full version of the prophecy that binds us together. I will give you
enough respect to honour your choice and address you as Voldemort rather than your
childhood name, and, I will give you Lucius Malfoy free and clear of Azkaban.

“The last I will probably not be able to do until after I deal with Dumbledore and the
others, but I give my word of honour that it will be done. Draco requests a private
meeting on neutral territory with his father in order to settle some family matters
pertaining to his first grandchild but, after that, Lucius will be free to return to your side
with all the money at his disposal.”

Voldemort locked gazes with him and silence fell in the marquee. Voldemort didn’t blink
and neither did Harry. The tension levels rose as the seconds and minutes passed but
neither of them backed down. Eventually, Voldemort gave what was possibly his first
genuine attempt at a smile in god alone knew how long.

“Let us hammer out the details over the lunch that the Council of Necromancers has so
thoughtfully provided for us. There are things that need to be clarified on both sides but I
agree in principle to the idea. Before we leave this place we will have a signed agreement
witnessed by the necromancers.”

Harry let out the breath that he had been holding and moved over to the dining table that
was in the back left corner of the marquee, everyone else quickly following suit.

If they lived to be five hundred none of them (on either side) would ever be fully able to
describe the atmosphere of that lunch between Harry Potter, Voldemort, the
necromancers and the advisors/guards that had accompanied them to that place. How did
one describe amicable hatred in a tea-party atmosphere between two implacable foes?

Over lunch the details were indeed hammered out. Voldemort even offered one or two
suggestions on laws or legal loopholes that could be used to ensure that the maximum
amount of retribution could be levied against those that had tried to subvert a Veela
bonding. The details of the prophecy were revealed over the after-lunch coffee and tea.
Voldemort stared long and hard at Harry Potter then and eventually gave a nod of
acknowledgement and respect to his prophesied foe, Harry returned the gesture.

By the end of the afternoon the agreement was in place, written and witnessed by all
present, including the two necromancer representatives.

Voldemort, his party and Nigel left first. The truce took effect from a minute past
midnight but in a sign of good faith, Voldemort had given assurances that he would
cancel the raid that was scheduled for tonight and invited Nigel along as witness until the
Council ratified the choices of the three necromancers that would work in shifts to
monitor his forces.

Harry had no reciprocal gesture he could make, as he was currently absent without leave
from the Order, so he simply offered his thanks for that and for the best wishes that
Voldemort offered both he and Draco for the birth of their child.

Lionel distributed the Portkeys that took them all back to the Parisian flat that was their
temporary refuge. Once safely at home, Harry swayed on his feet, exhausted, nerves shot
and said, “Draco, I--”

Draco caught him in his arms as Harry felt his bones give up the fight to hold him up and
he wept softly into his mate’s shoulder. It had needed to be done and it had gone even
better than they had dared to hope… he’d had an amicable - even friendly - lunch with
the wizard that had murdered his parents and helped to cause his godfather’s death. He
felt somehow sullied.

He must have murmured that last bit because the next thing he heard was Draco making
their excuses and saying that they’d be back out later that evening, but they needed some
time alone now. Draco then used some of his Veela strength to sweep Harry up into his
arms and he turned his face to his mate’s chest to block out the world.

Draco bypassed their bedroom and took them to the main bathroom in the flat – the
others were clearly going to have to make do with the smaller ‘visitor’ bathroom at the
opposite end of the flat.

Inside the bathroom, Draco silently stripped them both of their clothes and moved them
into the shower. Harry was instructed with a quiet whisper and a quick kiss to his lips to
just relax and let Draco look after him. He was expertly, gently and thoroughly lathered
up, and his mate cleansed his body from head to toe for him.

Draco wrapped him in a fluffy bath towel and then – after quickly drying himself off –
Draco did the same to Harry. Draco used his wand to clean the two towels and then
transfigured them into bathrobes, which they wore as they made their way to their
bedroom.

When in their bed, Harry let a few more tears fall – tears his mate kissed away – and they
slept for a couple of hours with Harry wrapped securely in Draco’s arms.

It was nearly nine o’clock that night when Draco roused Harry and they dressed in
silence. They walked through the flat hand-in-hand and made their way out to where
Severus and Remus sat talking in the living room. Lionel had gone to report to the
Council of Necromancers and had informed the other two men before he had left that he
expected he would be one of the three necromancers supervising them during the truce;
he intended to volunteer for the duty, which was what Severus told them when they sat
curled up together in one of the big armchairs in the room.

Their second major strategy session began that night. Step one had gone easier than they
had ever dared to imagine possible. Step two was not exactly going to be easy either.
They had right on their side but they would be going up against friends of long-standing,
and had to remember that they needed an effective fighting force to be left intact for after
the truce ended.

It was after midnight before they went to bed and even then they had not fully finalised
their plan of attack.

************************************************************************
As they were sitting down to breakfast the next morning, their first representative from
the necromancers arrived. As expected, it was Lionel. The old man said he would be with
them all day and night for this first full day of the truce and, by then, the other two
representatives that would share monitoring duties with him would have been selected
and briefed.

He apologetically explained his sole selection so far as their representative by pointing

out that the Council of Necromancers – while they fully intended to remain neutral
arbiters of the truce – had deemed it more prudent to make sure a full team headed by
Nigel was briefed and in place with Voldemort to start their assigned role the minute the
truce had gone into affect at one minute past midnight. They’d had a junior necromancer
stationed in observation last night over the flat but had not expected the Potter party to
breach the truce, especially since they were the party that had asked for it. It was an
apology that was readily accepted by all four of the younger men as they clearly saw the
logic in making sure that Voldemort’s observers were in place from moment one of the
truce.

Breakfast was more than adequate to spread to five people so the meal passed in easy
companionship. Lionel did stress that he would need to remain in the room with them at
all times. If they gave their oath that they would not try anything to breach the truce while
in the bathroom or in the privacy of their bedroom then the necromancers would accept
this oath and those areas could remain sacrosanct. The first hint that they broke that oath
from either of those specified locations would result in them being deemed to have
breached the truce. All four men quickly agreed. They had already talked over the loss of
privacy that they expected with constant observation and were grateful for the
compromise Lionel suggested.

Over the second round of tea that they all shared Lionel also reminded them that he was a
third party, as would be the other two necromancers assigned to their party. They were
neutral observers. They could be approached for information but only if it was
understood that any information divulged to their party would be revealed also to
Voldemort and his people and vice versa. The necromancers could not arbitrate the truce
as a true third party if they did anything else. That was agreed to a bit more reluctantly,
but again the four other men acknowledged the sense in the statement.

Severus broke the silence after that by saying, “Well, the sooner we ignore Lionel’s
presence and get back to our strategy session, the better. Remus and I talked things over
last night after we retired to bed and we have some thoughts we’d like to share.

“Shall we all move to the living room?”

There was an awkward shuffle from the kitchen dining area to the living room as the
younger two wizards self-consciously walked ahead of the necromancer that trailed their
party into the living room. Lionel made it slightly easier on them by pulling a huge book
out of the Muggle rucksack he had brought with him, and a parchment, quill and bottle of
ink, saying, “I’ll be sitting over here getting some work done. Pretend I’m not here.”

That, of course, was easier said than done. Severus seemed most okay with the
monitoring but then again he had been a spy much longer than Draco had, Remus and
Harry continued to fidget nervously and remained silent. Sighing, Severus looked at the
two former Gryffindors in their midst and then hit upon a solution. With a wordless
glance, he conveyed his intent to his godson who was gently trying to persuade his mate
to look up from his fidgeting fingers.

Confusion was apparent in Draco’s silver gaze for a brief second before he cottoned on to
what his godfather was telling him to do and Severus waited until he got a nod of
acknowledgement before acting. He pulled his werewolf lover into his arms, pulling him
close to him on the couch that they were sharing, sealing his lips to Remus’s own. Out of
the corner of his eye, he saw Draco gently turn Harry’s head round to seal his lips to his
mate’s as they sat side by side on the chair that Draco had automatically transfigured to a
loveseat the minute they had entered the room.

When Severus was absolutely certain that Remus’s every thought was focused totally on
him Severus released his lover’s teasing and soft mouth with a whispered promise of,
“Later.” It took Draco a few minutes longer to relax Harry from his nervousness about
Lionel’s presence but he did it. Severus overlooked the fact that it meant that their
strategy session was going to be conducted with Harry settled firmly on Draco’s lap.
Harry’s attention was off the fact that Lionel was in the room, as was Remus’s attention,
he would take what he could get.

“As I said earlier, Remus and I were discussing our situation last night and we do have a
few ideas that we’d like to bring to the table.” He was pleased to see that he had Draco
and Harry’s full attention, taking a deep breath, Severus continued to speak.

“Remus and I know that it is urgent that we deal with the situation with our own people
but we believe it is of paramount importance that we make sure our own position is
unassailable first.
“There needs to be something that is legal and binding – beyond what we all know in our
hearts to be true – that binds us together. Godfather and surrogate godfather to you both
will not suffice, particularly not since I am a former Death Eater and Remus is a
werewolf. If Dumbledore and The Order disavow knowledge of us as being on the side of
Light then your word – particularly considering your own problems – simply won’t
suffice. There needs to be something more.”

Harry gave a soft sigh in response to that depressing announcement and said, “Is there
anything realistically that we can do, Severus?”

Severus gave one of his patented evil grins and that perked Harry up considerably, even
Draco looked much happier. That was, of course, because they knew him well enough to
know that he only ever used that grin when he was absolutely certain of getting his way.

“You both are mated and Harry is with child, which is an excellent start. It could be
better. If you were magically bound as heart-mates by being given the Paternus Blessing
then the ties that bound you together could never be undone.”

“Can’t that only be done by our fathers, Uncle Severus?”

Severus shook his head and said, “No, Draco. The couple’s fathers do normally do the
blessing but there have been a couple of exceptions in our history. For one reason or
another, the fathers in question were not available at the time and substitutes were used.

“The couple had to choose two substitutes that they trusted above all others and instigate
an amicus oath between them, a one-on-one bond, which bound them to their alternate
and granted them the privilege of performing the blessing. Once done, the alternates
became recognised as ‘second-fathers’, they took a recognised place as a paternal figure
in their amicus-son’s life but did not supplant the true father from their paternal rights.

“In addition, in the eyes of Wizarding law, the amicus oath is considered a family tie.
Being chosen to perform a Paternus Blessing would only strengthen that tie in the eyes of
the law.”

“I’d get a dad?”

Harry’s tone was both wistful and hopeful at the same time so Severus released his lover
from his embrace and Draco did the same to Harry and let the two of them meet in the
middle of the room. Remus opened his arms to his surrogate godson and Harry clasped
onto him with a death-grip hug that he showed no sign of wanting to end. Draco had a
sad smile on his face as he watched his mate cling to his one remaining paternal role
model and then wordlessly mouthed, ‘thank you’ at Severus. Severus nodded his head in
acknowledgement.

Draco moved to embrace Harry from behind and Severus mirrored the action with
Remus. Murmuring softly enough for the other three to hear him, Severus said, “Remus
and I believe that our next step after completing the oaths and blessing should be to
contact another ruling council, the Veela Council.

“It is past time the Veela authorities were informed of the actions of Dumbledore and his
conspirators. Legislation covering Veelas has been worldwide since the time of the
Muggle Dark Ages. Every magical nation and community is bound by those laws. No one
person, Ministry or even an entire magical community has the right to subvert a bonding
for what they perceive to be the greater good… and the Veelas are the most powerful
group of magical creatures that can affect the power bases of a lot of Wizarding
politicians and companies.

“It does not pay to make an enemy of the Veela Clans.”

Draco gently disengaged Harry’s arms from around Remus’s waist and wrapped them
round his own instead. Severus watched and waited with Remus’s back still cradled
against his chest as the two young wizards stood forehead-to-forehead murmuring softly
to each other.

When they were done, Draco gave a bloodthirsty smile to both of them and said, “Harry
and I would be honoured to have you carry out the Paternus Blessing. Contact the
Council.

“We’ll leave the necessary preparation in your hands if you don’t mind, both for the
blessing and contacting the Council. We need to spend a little time alone.

“Shall we reconvene for the blessing at seven p.m.? That should give you enough time,
yes?”

Severus and Remus both nodded and Draco acknowledged them with a nod of his own
before taking Harry’s hand in his own and leading him from the living room.

Severus turned Remus in his arms so that he could hug his lover close. Harry may have
been more open and vocal about his need for a father but Remus longed to have a family
too. Another aspect of a Paternus Blessing – one he was sure Draco would explain to
Harry – was that it would in effect in the eyes of the law bind both he and Remus
together also. Werewolves could not marry and Remus had resigned himself to the fact
that they would never be recognised as a couple. The blessing would legally make them
second-parents to the Veela couple and a legally recognised couple in their own right.

Remus would gain a husband and two sons by the end of the night and heaven help
Dumbledore and his people then. A werewolf in full protect-his-family mode was not
something anyone with a grain of sense wanted to mess with.

Severus took Remus’s hand in his and they headed off to begin preparations, Lionel
accompanying them. Neutral though the man was, they accepted with a smile of thanks
his softly spoken, “Nicely done, gentlemen” for the approval that it was.
************************************************************************
At seven thirty p.m. precisely, Lionel stood outside in the hallway that looked on into the
living room and at the group of men inside. The room had been ritually purified by both
Severus and Remus and no-one outside the four of them could enter until after the
Paternus Blessing was complete.

Slightly earlier, Lionel had volunteered his services as an impartial witness to sign a
statement that Severus and Draco had performed an amicus oath, as had Remus and
Harry. He had earlier contacted his superiors to advise them of the evening’s planned
activities and they agreed with Lionel’s assessment that it did not come under the terms
of granting unfavourable aid to the Potter party. They could easily have summoned the
concierge that worked in the Wizarding apartment building in Paris and had him sign a
binding contract of silence and had him witness the oaths. Lionel would not be
performing a function that it would have been impossible or even difficult to get
elsewhere. It was permitted of him.

Inside the living room, the four men stripped off the shirts that they were wearing. The
blessing necessitated that they be bare-chested. Gentle smiles were exchanged at the sight
of the love-bites that adorned the chests and necks of Harry and Remus, but there was no
teasing. This was not the time and place for teasing.

Remus picked up the gold loving cup that he had transfigured from a strand of his hair
and Severus’ hair that had been braided together and poured water into it from a jug that
had been set aside for that purpose, he placed a hand over top of the cup and softly
murmured an ancient blessing. The cup was then passed round all four men who drank
from its contents.

Next, Severus gently removed one strand of hair from each of the four participant’s head
and used his wand to elongate the hairs and then twisted them together. Once that was
done, both he and Remus laid a hand on the twisted hair and simultaneously murmured a
charm to turn the combined hair into a golden rope. The rope was used to bind the
clasped hands of Draco and Harry together, the golden rope dangling over their wrists
after joining them together.

Severus laid his hand on top of the young men’s joined hands; Remus placed his
underneath so that the hands of those receiving the blessing were encompassed between
the hands of the two men performing the blessing. Remus’s free hand was placed over
Harry’s heart and Severus’ over Draco’s.

The blessing was an ancient one and therefore did not suffer from over-effusive
nonsense. Severus spoke first and then, when he was done, Remus repeated his words,
saying, “Before heaven and the wonders of creation itself, by the gift of love freely given
by my chosen son, I give my blessing on their union and call it true and good. Let no
person tear it asunder.

“To protect this union I and my partner pledge our lifelong support, love and
protection… now let heaven judge our blessing.”

Next came the bit that no wizard or witch had ever been successfully able to explain.
Over the hearts of the two being blessed, a star mark formed under their skin – a mark
repeated on the palm of the hand of the man that had spoken the blessing.

Draco and Harry completed the ritual by leaning forward to place a ceremonial kiss on
the heart of the man that had blessed them and said, “Pater secundus.”

There was a solemn silence for a moment that was broken when Lionel walked into the
room to offer his congratulations. Severus unwound the rope round Draco and Harry’s
wrists and used his wand to equally separate the rope into four. Remus said the spell to
transform the four segments into gold-tinted bracelets and each man placed a bracelet on
their wrist, Remus said the spell had sized them all to fit and the evening’s work was
complete.

A letter had been sent earlier that afternoon to ask for a convening of the Veela Council
as soon as possible on the subject of a bound pair wanting to lay complaint about an
attempted subversion of their bond. They had received a high priority owl back from the
Veela hierarchy saying they were invited to present their case at a full assembly of the
Veela Council the following afternoon. They had already agreed to the meeting.

There was not much said in the hour or two after the blessing, the four spent their time in
companionable silence or chatting with Lionel. There was no more strategy being
discussed today so they felt it was rude to exclude the old man. There had been a few
gentle tears between Harry and Remus the first time Harry had called him Dad. Severus
was happy to remain Uncle Severus to Draco because he knew the place he held in
Draco’s heart and vice versa, but the two Gryffindors had ached to fill a void in their own
lives.

Harry desperately wanted someone to be a parent and Remus was the closest he’d had in
so long he reveled in it being official. Severus was now Uncle Severus if Harry so chose,
though most of the time it would simply remain Severus, likewise Remus was Uncle
Remus for Draco whenever Draco needed him to be.

The night ended relatively early as both couples wanted to spend some time alone and,
with the meeting with the Veela Council the next day, they wanted to take the
opportunity to have a relatively quiet and stress free night together.

Lionel simply transfigured one of the couches into a bed when the couples announced
they were turning and wished them a merry “good night” with a twinkle in his eyes that
caused Severus and Draco to grin and Remus and Harry to blush.

************************************************************************
Inside their bedroom, Severus and Remus talked over their thoughts for the meeting for
the following day but then Severus decided it was time to make his lover relax.
Using practiced and loving hands, Severus stripped Remus of his clothes and gently
manoeuvered him to the bed. Quickly divesting himself of his own clothes, Severus
retrieved a couple of vials of oil from the bedside cabinet and opened the first, pouring
some oil into his hands to warm it.

With the familiarity of a long-time lover, Severus soothed and massaged Remus’s skin
from the back of his neck and down his scarred but beautiful body, spending a happy few
moments massaging Remus’s arse-cheeks before continuing his journey down,
massaging the backs of Remus’s strong thighs and calves. Wolf though he may be, it was
not growling that was emanating from Remus’s lips; it was more akin to purring.

Severus quietly instructed Remus to roll over and poured more of the oil into his hands
and began to massage Remus’s front, paying particular attention to his muscled chest and
the nipples that hardened to beautiful dark nubs within the sparse camouflage of Remus’s
lightly furred chest. Severus worked his hands down the rest of his lover’s body, paying
only light attention to the hard and leaking penis of his lover. He gently massaged
Remus’s sac and then continued his fingers’ teasing journey down his lover’s legs.

By the time he reached Remus’s toes the man was whimpering, Severus bent his mouth
to suck briefly on Remus’s big toes, allowing his tongue the chance to tease and torment
about where else it could be doing that. That rang an “Oh, please Severus” out of his
lover and he could deny the man nothing.

Severus gently opened his lover’s legs wide and moved up the space he created in the
middle to capture first Remus’s balls and then Remus’s erect cock with his tormenting
mouth. Remus had been living on the edge of ecstasy since the massaging of his arse-
cheeks, Severus knew this. He knew his lover’s body well. He did not torment his lover
any further; he used everything he had learned about pleasuring Remus to ensure that he
quickly fell over into orgasm and lovingly drank down every bit of the liquid release
from his lover.

Once done, he retrieved the second jar of oil that he had taken out of the bedside table
and used loving fingers to prepare his lover’s body for his entrance, slicking himself up
ready to take him. He lifted Remus’s calves to his shoulders and guided his cock into his
lover’s body.

Remus’s arse was quite simply heavenly heat and wonderful friction, Severus could think
of no other words to describe it. He may have lost years with Remus that they could have
been sharing but he vowed in his heart yet again to make every remaining day count all
the more. For as long as he could, he kept a steady yet gentle pace and made gentle love
to Remus with his cock and Remus let him. Severus gasped when he couldn’t fight the
urge to move and to mate and Remus instinctively acted and moved his legs from their
resting place on his shoulders to wrap round his back and cradled him close.

Remus gave him total control of his body and welcomed him home, Severus upped the
pace to the primal fucking, the mating, that they both now craved. He used a strong hand
to work Remus’s renewed erection and they both moved closer to orgasm. Remus erupted
first and Severus released his own cream a scant couple of moments later. Bending over
Remus’s come covered stomach; Severus captured Remus’s lips in a kiss while they were
both still connected by his half-hard cock and murmured, “My love, and my husband.”

Remus wept then in his arms and, still connected, Severus rolled onto his back and
cradled him close and let him.

************************************************************************
After the ceremony, Draco and Harry retreated to the sanctuary of their own room where
Draco stripped them both of their clothing. He readied their bed and then lit a couple of
candles in their jars around the room and their aromatic scent began to fill the room.
Draco then returned to his mate.

Harry was standing with his eyes closed and a serene smile on his face. One hand rested
on his stomach and Draco knew that he was quietly communing with the tiny spark of life
that was their child. It was a precious life at its most fragile stage but Draco could already
sense the strong bond between his mate and the child he carried. It was something that
brought great joy to Draco every time he saw it. Harry was going to be an amazing father.

Harry’s other hand was on his heart, resting over the mark that now showed that he had
the other thing he had wanted more than anything else, the one thing Draco couldn’t give
his mate, a father to love. Remus was a good and decent man and he made Severus
happy, for that alone Draco was proud to call the man friend. For the love and care he had
previously shown Harry and the open delight he had in being a ‘second-father’ for his
mate, Draco could do nothing else than accept the man totally into his heart and his
family… and he did so with a glad heart.

“Harry,” murmured Draco, gently caressing his mate’s bare shoulder, “time for bed.”

His mate’s green eyes opened and Harry smiled and nodded. He then held out his arms to
be carried with a teasing and loving smile on his face. Draco chuckled and said, “Carry a
man once or twice and you’d think he thought he was the centre of someone’s life, or
something.”

Harry was clearly in the mood to be playful because he winked and nodded and
insistently held out his arms. Laughing, Draco gave in and swept his mate into his arms
and cradled him against his chest. He’d do anything to make his mate happy, Harry knew
that. Thankfully it was not in his nature to exploit it, Harry couldn’t be anything other
than open and completely and totally Harry. He didn’t have it in his heart to be anything
other than the caring and wonderful man that he was. It was little wonder that he owned
Draco’s heart.

Draco walked to the bed and gently laid his mate down on the covers that he’d stripped
down before lighting the candles. He leaned over his mate but was careful not to press to
heavily down on his perfect body, ever mindful of the child his mate carried. Draco
pressed several gentle and unhurried kisses to his mate’s soft lips, simply reminding him
that he was loved and treasured. Harry sighed happily and opened his mouth to Draco’s
tongue, welcoming completely the searching caresses Draco made in his loving of his
mate’s mouth.

Eventually, Draco trailed a path of kisses down his mate’s neck to the love-bite he had
made earlier that afternoon, gently biting at his mate’s skin again, darkening the mark
again before soothing it with his tongue. Harry wrapped eager arms around his back and
one of his hands made its way into his hair and Draco smiled against Harry’s skin.

He continued to kiss at the juncture of Harry’s neck and shoulder and moved a teasing
hand to play with Harry’s taut nipples. His hand stilled when Harry softly gasped out, “I
want to make love to you but I want you to be in me. Is there a way we can do that?”

It was at times like this that Draco felt truly blessed to have been entrusted by Harry with
his heart… his beautiful, innocent mate. Draco intended to spend the rest of eternity
worshipping his mate with his body and his love. They had only done what Harry wanted
to do once before, but it had been in the throes of the second-stage bonding and his mate
had been completely lost to bliss at the time as it had been well into the second day of the
claiming.

Draco lay on his back on the mattress and pulled his mate gently down to rest on his chest
and body. He moved slightly across the bed so he was more centrally situated on the
mattress and then urged his mate to lie fully across his chest. He grasped with one hand
under his pillow and retrieved his wand, creating a jar of lubricating oil that he could dip
his fingers into. He gently kissed his mate’s eager lips and then whispered against his
skin, “We can do whatever you want, my love.

“Lie here and kiss me and I’ll get you ready to make love to me.”

His mate needed no second urging and began to happily rain kisses on his lips, face and
chest, gasping happily when Draco’s oiled fingers worked below him to prepare his body
for entry at the same time. By the time Harry was ready for his entry, Draco was hard and
eager to be in his mate, and his mate was whimpering with need and love.

Draco quickly slicked himself up and wiped the excess oil from his fingers onto the bed
covers. Moving his hands to Harry’s hips, he effortlessly lifted his mate up off his chest
and to rest so that his body was poised ready over Draco’s penis, ready to be entered.
“This is going to make you feel full love, just work your way slowly down and rest your
hands behind me on my thighs when I’m fully seated.” Harry whimpered in ecstasy and
nodded his agreement.

There was a gasp of wonder from his mate at the first entrance of Draco’s erection into
his body and his green eyes snapped open in delight. Draco used strong hands at his
mate’s hips to make sure the journey down his penis went slowly and as painlessly as
possible and Harry let him set the pace. Harry’s green-eyed gaze never left his face and
Draco softly said, “I love you, Harry” to his mate. At that moment, Harry came fully to
rest on Draco’s body, settled as deep over his mate’s erection as he could be and Harry
gasped happily and said, “Love you too, my heart.”

Harry’s hands rested for a moment behind Draco and Draco allowed him that momentary
breather. Harry then slowly straightened up and took a half-inch more of Draco’s penis
into his body with the new angle. Draco sighed happily at the same time his mate did.

Harry pulled Draco’s hands back to his hips and said, “Set the pace, love. Use my body to
make love to us.”

Eyes entranced by the sight of his mate’s body engulfing his penis and his green eyes full
of utter devotion and a plea for more, Draco gave Harry what he wanted. He used strong
hands and a will of iron to set a slow pace, lifting his lover up and down over his
straining erection, keeping the pace slow, making their loving last.

Every movement of his body up and down – as directed by Draco – caused ecstatic
whimpers to emerge from Harry’s lips and, when Harry opened his eyes long enough to
hover his hand over his own straining erection and mutely ask if it was all right for him to
bring himself to relief, Draco couldn’t help but growl out his desire and began to thrust
up harder in time with the delicious movements he was controlling in Harry’s hips. With
an outright whimper, Harry began to jerk his needy and leaking erection in a frantic pace
that Draco mimicked perfectly with his movements inside Harry’s body and the motion
of Harry’s hips.

Harry erupted into orgasm with a cry of “Draco!” and when his hot come splashed across
Draco’s chest, Draco gave a thrust up and pulled Harry’s hips down to meet him and
emptied himself joyfully, happily, into his mate’s arse.

Harry slumped on top of him and Draco meshed their lips together for a kiss of thanks on
both sides. Draco then gently rolled them over so that Harry was on his back and, after
one last loving kiss, gently disengaged himself from Harry’s body. Considering the time
of night and the fact that he would have to leave the bedroom and walk down the hallway
to the bathroom, Draco used his wand to cast a cleansing charm on them both rather than
going in search of a warm washcloth.

Harry was carefully situated in his arms to sleep safe in his embrace and Draco called out
“Nox” to snuff out the candles.

Harry initially slept deeply in his arms for much of the night. At around four a.m. he
apologetically woke up his mate when he moved out of his arms to grab a robe and head
off to the bathroom. When he came back to bed he quickly fell asleep again but Draco
sleepily noted that his mate was not as settled as he was before.

Draco woke up at a little after six a.m. to the shifting body of his mate. Harry was
moving as though he was awake, though he clearly wasn’t. Curious and a little alarmed,
Draco watched to see what his mate was doing. Harry did something he didn’t expect.
Harry gently slithered down the mattress until he was in line with his lower body and
leaned over to gently mouth Draco’s soft cock. Once he had it in his mouth, Harry
seemed to relax again into a deeper sleep, sighing and snuggling closer into Draco’s side,
still suckling Draco’s soft shaft.

Draco’s eyes were wide with wonder and delight. Harry was exhibiting the instincts of a
brooding mate. He was doing so very early though; he shouldn’t be doing this until
around the end of the second month of pregnancy or well into the third. It was the first
stage of a successful pregnancy that would lead to the male waking early in the morning
with any nausea before returning to bed and soothing his stomach with the one thing
guaranteed to settle it – his mate’s essence – suckled to soothe the nausea and feed the
pregnant mate necessary nutrients to ensure a healthy pregnancy.

Harry seemed peaceful so Draco let him sleep and pulled the covers up to cover his mate.
He tugged the pillow over from Harry’s side of the bed and transfigured it into a cover
for himself, draped over his chest to enable him to keep watch on his mate.

When they met the Veela Council tomorrow they were going to have to ask to speak to a
Veela medi-wizard. Harry needed to be examined to confirm both he and the baby were
healthy and it would hopefully be possible to see if there was any precedent for Harry’s
brooding behaviour so far ahead of schedule.

Draco lightly napped while waiting for his mate to wake up. Harry was sure to be a little
disoriented and embarrassed when he woke up with his mouth engulfing him. Draco was
going to have to remind him about their earlier discussion about the early brooding habits
he would exhibit and just explain that all this was, was Harry starting to brood a little
early.

************************************************************************
The manor house on the outskirts of Paris was centuries old and imbued with history in
its every nook and cranny. It was the chosen meeting place for the Veela High Council
when they congregated in their ancestral homeland’s capital city. For the first time in
almost forty years the full council had been assembled – rather than simply whichever
council members happened to be in the country at the time.

The reason for this was simple; the Malfoy heir had requested to present a charge of
deliberate subversion of a Veela bonding for their consideration. Such a potential breach
of the ancient laws was the one thing that could demand a complete and immediate
attendance of all council members at an unscheduled council meeting.

The white-haired and still incomparably beautiful Senior Elder of the council, Marianna
D’Ascalon, instructed her aide Henri to bring in the Malfoy party and their ‘guest’ from
the ante-chamber that they were waiting in. It had been explained in the correspondence
of the day before that the Malfoy party had an arbitrated truce with another party and that
the arbitrators of the truce were the necromancers, one would be in attendance at the
meeting in their observer role. It was highly irregular to allow it; then again it was highly
irregular for the necromancers to agree to arbitrate anything so the High Council had
allowed it.
Henri escorted the party in to the council chamber and the seven members of the council,
Marianna in particular, wordlessly assessed the party. The necromancer was dressed in
the black and red formal robes of his calling and nodded his head respectfully at the
council. The two non-bonded wizards were dressed in elegant black robes. Again, they
were an exception in a day full of exceptions that had already been allowed. The Malfoy
heir had insisted that they were entitled and required to be present for this hearing, and
the markings of Pater Secundus that each reportedly displayed on their hands seemed to
bear out the Malfoy heir’s insistence.

It was the bonded pair that captured the majority of their attention, how could it not?
Draco Malfoy was the living image of his great grandfather, the last Veela male in his
bloodline. He was dressed in robes of silver velvet that were edged with black, the mark
of the dominant Veela partner in a bonding. He was at least two years past the age when
he should be contacting the council about a bonding – subverted or otherwise – but they
recognised one of their own, a powerful one of their own at that.

His mate was a human male and that in and of itself was a surprise. The last same-sex
male Veela bonding was thirty years ago, the Malfoy family had never had a same sex
bonding before. Draco Malfoy’s human mate was smaller in stature but even more
powerful, and absolutely and irrevocably recognisable as the most famous wizard of the
last twenty-five years. The Malfoy heir had apparently bonded to Harry Potter! The
famous scar was visible in the messy but easily recognisable hair of the grown-up Boy
Who Lived. His green eyes were without the spectacles that the council members
associated with the pictures of him they’d seen since he re-entered the Wizarding world
as a teenager. Those eyes were calm, focused and determined as he stood beside his mate.

The one fact above all others that the council members noted was the colour of the robes
that Harry Potter was wearing. He was wearing robes of white that were edged with gold;
they were the traditional colours of a pregnant mate. This was momentous.

Marianna gently tapped her gold goblet onto the high table of the council chamber and,
with a wave of her hand, indicated for the party of petitioners to the council to take their
places in the decorative wooden chairs laid out in a row in front of the dais on which the
high table was situated. “Gentlemen, we welcome you to this place and ask that your
spokesmen now address the council on the matter of the complaint that you wish to lay
before the Veela High Council.”

The other members of the party took their seats and Draco Malfoy – after being seen to
briefly caress the cheek of his mate – stood and addressed the council.

“I wish to lay a formal complaint against one named wizard – and also the members of
two organisations – that they knowingly and willfully subverted my bond with my mate,
Harry Potter. I request that the council hear our case and then assist us in ensuring that
full reparations are made, both to us and the Veela Clans, and ask your help to ensure that
such a travesty of ignoring our world’s ancient laws can never happen again.”

“The charges you wish to bring before us are serious, Draco Malfoy,” said Marianna.
“Do you have the means to provide corroboration for these claims?”

“I have witnesses who are willing to swear to the veracity of our claims under the
influence of Veritaserum, as long as it is understood that questioning can only be directed
to them on that specific area. There is both personal and highly sensitive information that
they do not wish revealed as it could have an impact on the struggle against Lord
Voldemort and his forces.”

There was a murmured conversation between the members of the Veela High Council
and then Marianna again spoke, saying, “State your grievance.”

“My family has for the past couple of generations in particular been associated with the
Dark Arts and Lord Voldemort,” said Draco Malfoy. “As I grew up I realised I did not
agree with my parents’ chosen affiliation but I still played the part of their dutiful son
while attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I freely admit to being
both a brat and to going out of my way to cause trouble and aggravation for Harry Potter
and his friends.

“All this changed at the end of my Seventh Year. I had already decided that I was not
going to follow in my parents’ footsteps and take the Dark Mark and then, on my
eighteenth birthday, my life changed irrevocably. To my delight and surprise, I came into
my full inheritance on my birthday and I quickly sniffed out my mate as being one of my
year-mates. To my complete astonishment and not a little initial dismay, my mate was
Harry Potter.

“I knew this would cause immeasurable problems so rather than trying to approach my
long-time school rival head on, I approached my Head of House, Severus Snape, with my
dilemma. He is also my godfather and I knew he was a spy within the Death Eater ranks
for Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix. I thought in my naiveté that the best
approach would to make my initial contact with my mate through the headmaster’s
auspices as a third party.

“I was called to the headmaster’s office the following day and informed that Harry Potter
had refused the bond. I was then told that I was of far too much importance to the Order’s
covert efforts against Lord Voldemort to be allowed to take the honourable route of
suicide, and was ordered to take the stabilising potion.”

Draco paused in his explanation and the council members were clearly seen staring in
confusion at his clearly present mate because that did not gel at all with the tale he was
relating.

“For the next almost two years I took the thrice-damned potion that Severus prepared for
me - he was also told that Harry refused the bond. I also suffered the indignity of being
sent on several Order missions with the wizard who – as far as I knew – had refused our
bond and then had the gall to try and be my friend.

“A few weeks ago, Severus and I were captured on a reconnaissance mission for the
Order. It was apparently decided that it would use up too many resources to try and
rescue us so we were written off as casualties of war.

“Two members of the Order would not accept this, Harry Potter and Remus Lupin.
Though I did not know it at the time, Remus has been Severus’ lover ever since Harry
and I left Hogwarts. Those two rescued us in a daring and completely unsanctioned
mission and then they split us up for our own protection, Remus took Severus to a secret
location that only he knew about, Harry did the same with me.

“When I woke up from my injuries after two days of Harry’s care I knew that I had
misjudged Harry to a certain extent, I also knew that I was fast due for a new dose of
stabilising potion, and that, without it, things were going to come to a head.

“Harry and Remus had a previously set up and totally private communications network in
place and Severus managed to send a message to us both through that method that, in
their hiding place, he did not have access to potions material and could not provide me
with the dose of potion that I would need.

“I explained this with resignation to Harry and told him it would be best to let me leave,
and that was when it transpired that Harry had never been told anything about me, the
bond, or the fact that I had been ordered to take the stabilising potion.”

An outraged clamour broke out amongst the council members but Draco pressed on with
his explanation. “To my eternal joy, Harry was happy and eager to complete the bond
with me and we did instigate a full bond over the next couple of days. As soon as that
was done, Harry sent a message to Remus and Severus asking them to investigate why I
had been ordered to take the potion and why neither Remus nor Harry knew anything
about the bond or me being a Veela.

“A few days later when Harry and I met up with Remus and Severus they were delighted
to find that I was alive and well and not insane or worse, Harry and I had decided to
surprise them with that news – and the fact that Harry had conceived our child. They
themselves had far more disquieting news for us.

“In follow up to Harry’s message they had done as he asked and ascertained – through
their own private informants – what the explanation was for what had happened to Harry
and I. Each of them got the same information from different sources and their
information verified the other’s as accurate.

“Albus Dumbledore apparently did not want the son of a known Death Eater bonded to
Harry Potter because it was something out-with his control and something that rested
control of his weapon, Harry, away from himself. He apparently initially acted alone but
the decision was later fully endorsed by the Ministry of Magic of Great Britain, and the
hierarchy of the Order of the Phoenix.

“Albus supported the over-eager ideas of the matriarch of the Weasley family and her
only daughter in the notion that, if Harry didn’t know about the bond – or if I ended up
dead – that they could marry Harry off to their daughter, and so cement their position
among the elite of the Order.

“The rest of their family, the entire Order – apart from the four of us affected – and most
of the Ministry’s Aurors or other people involved in the fight against Voldemort knew
about this attempted subversion of the bond. Nobody spoke out against it and, apparently,
the vast majority outright supported it.

“Harry and the rest of our party fully intend to take down Lord Voldemort but we know
that we need to put our own house in order first. We approached the necromancers to
help us arrange a time-limited truce with Voldemort. The Dark Lord knows full well that
we do not intend to not fight him; he also knows that we fully intend to take Dumbledore
and the others to task first. For that reason, amongst other agreements made by both our
parties, Voldemort has agreed to the truce.

“Whether or not you assist us in our goal now in seeking justice and acceptable
recompense for the major offence done to Harry and I by the attempted subverting and
breaking of our bond, we leave to your decision.

“We are a mated pair and we have been grievously wronged. You are the highest
authority of the Veela Clans, it was only right that we make you aware of the wrong done
to us, and give you the opportunity to act with us in demanding justice and full adherence
to the Veela laws.

“Thank you for your attention to our petition.”

Draco sat down then and raised his mate’s hand to his own and pressed gentle lips to
Harry’s palm before meshing their fingers together.

The group silently sat and watched the furious and hushed debate going on amongst the
elders of the Veela High Council. When instructed by the aide Henri to return to the ante-
chamber they had previously waited in, they did so.

It was fifteen minutes later that they were invited back into the chamber and informed
that it was the unanimous decision of the Veela High Council that their claim for the
wrong done to them was just, they did not need to hear the testimony of the witnesses; the
council knew that they would not have made such a claim if it could not be backed up.

They were invited to spend the night at the manor house so that the council and other
selected Veela leaders could have private discussions with them to help to start to
formulate a planned response to the grievous wrong done to them. Lionel asked
permission to fire-call his second-shift replacement to advise him of the change in
location for the rest of the day – a request that was granted.

Later that evening, after having had a lively dinner with more Veelas than any of them
had ever seen in one place, Draco Malfoy asked Marianna D’Ascalon if she could
arrange for a Veela mediwizard to be available for he and his mate to visit the following
morning. With a smile of delight when discussing the new mate of Draco, Marianna
assured him his request would be arranged and a messenger would be sent to their
bedchamber the following morning.

************************************************************************
The following morning, Draco and Harry found themselves in a small infirmary room in
the manor house. The mediwizard that examined Harry was a one hundred year old
Belgian Veela by the name of Piers. To the complete relief of both Draco and Harry,
Piers pronounced Harry to be in perfect health.

When Draco, with slight concern and still a little bit of awe, described Harry’s early
beginning of classic brooding behaviour, his hand holding tight to his blushing mate’s
while he recounted Harry’s actions, Piers’ eyes widened in amazed delight. He asked
permission to run some additional tests that he had not previously thought he needed to
do at this early stage in the pregnancy, and politely, almost reverently, asked Harry to
disrobe again.

Curiosity overriding his still shy embarrassment about being nude for anyone other than
Draco, Harry complied. Piers used gentle hands to investigate his belly and lower body
and then performed a series of swiftly muttered charms over his stomach, and, with each
one, the smile on his laugh-lined and wrinkled face grew brighter and brighter.

When Piers announced his findings, Harry gasped in wonder and Draco in utter delight,
and Draco gently pulled his nude mate into his arms for a kiss that spoke of complete
love and utter devotion, with an ecstatically smiling Piers looking on in satisfaction and
appreciation of a clear heart-bond and true mated pair.

Draco and Harry took their leave to go tell Remus and Severus the good news, and Piers
was given their permission to inform the Veela High Council.

Piers had explained to them that early brooding was the classic and earliest sign of a
multiple birthing for a mated pair. It was extremely rare for this to happen. The last
recorded case of a multiple male birthing was over a century before… and even then, it
was not like this.

Brooding that started early in the third month was an indication of a health baby, the
earlier in the second month brooding started the greater the likelihood of a twin birth.
Only five times in the recorded history of the last millennium had a mate began brooding
in the first month of pregnancy… in all five previous cases it had meant the birth of
triplets. It was the rarest, most anticipated and avidly protected type of pregnancy for a
Veela mate. It was still far too early to definitively confirm that it was triplets but the
signs were there, and the early brooding had rarely been wrong as an indicator.

Members of the clans would lay down their lives without hesitation to protect the life of
any mate during their pregnancy. With Harry exhibiting the signs of such a rare
pregnancy as this, it would be taken as a sign of great blessing. Multiple births were
looked upon as being the greatest blessing heaven could bestow on a mated pair and the
Veela clans.

That anybody had even attempted to subvert such a bonding would be considered the
highest crime of any that could be performed against the clans. Before, it had been a
matter of justice and principle that the council would have agreed to support their claim.
Now, it would be something that every member of every clan from the smallest child to
the oldest clan member would demand as the only course of action possible.

The full might and wrath of the Veela clans would now be at the disposal of Draco
Malfoy, Harry Potter and their allies.

************************************************************************
It was two weeks to the day since they had received the astounding news of Harry’s
suspected multiple pregnancy from the Veela medi-wizard Piers and Draco Malfoy
looked down to the man cradled in his arms. Harry was sleeping peacefully.

It would be another three months at least before Piers could definitively confirm his
initial diagnosis. The old man was in a bedroom down the hall in their new safe-house in
Berlin. They had been here for the last week and would be briefly returning to Britain
next week. Piers was the latest addition to their household, it was an addition the Veela
High Council had insisted on.

When it had become common knowledge amongst the clans - though it was a secret that
they’d never betray to a living soul outside their own kind - that Harry Potter was
exhibiting the signs of a brooding mate so early into his pregnancy, the leaders of all the
Veela clans had insisted on having a trained Veela medi-wizard assigned to the sole care
of Harry Potter, they would risk no harm to him or the children he carried.

Draco’s hands moved automatically as he looked lovingly at his sleeping mate, one to
cradle his head close by burying his face into Harry’s unruly head of dark hair, and the
other made soothing strokes up and down Harry’s bare back. Harry had returned to bed
an hour earlier – after spending twenty minutes throwing up in the en suite bathroom –
and Draco was waiting for instinct to take over. When Harry stirred in his arms, Draco
released his tight hold on his mate and let nature take its course.

Harry was not asleep or sleepwalking, but he was not fully aware of his actions when he
slithered down the mattress towards Draco’s half-hard erection. His mate was operating
on pure instinct, Draco knew this… Draco reveled in this. His body responded to his
mate’s needs all too eagerly, and he hardened under the questing and hungry lips of his
mate. Harry’s working mouth and throat demanded of him the essence of himself, to
soothe nausea and grant a hungry body the nutrients it needed to thrive in its pregnant
condition, and Draco’s body happily complied. Once Harry had drunk his fill of him,
Draco gently tugged his mate back up the length of his body and into his arms. If the
habits of the last week held true, Harry would wake fully in about an hour.

Draco pressed a kiss to Harry’s tousled hair and smiled happily. Harry had been initially
mortified by this aspect of the pregnancy – in spite of the earlier information that Draco
had given him about the actions of pregnant mates. That had been long before they had
known about Harry exhibiting the signs of a multiple pregnancy… Harry had thought
he’d have a few more months to get used to the idea. Piers had gently explained the
process and the reasoning behind it, and Harry had lost his bashfulness and
embarrassment about the process. He found joy instead in the fact that his body was
acting to ensure their unborn children received all that they needed to in order to thrive.

Draco tightened his embrace of his mate. He had been astonished by Piers’ initial
assessment of the pregnancy but his main and still overriding emotion was joy. Harry was
the centre of his world now and his mate owned his heart. The fact that his mate’s body
was theoretically sustaining not one child - but three - was a blessing he had never dared
to imagine when resignedly swallowing down the suppressing potion he had been ordered
to take. His mate belonged to him, and loved him, and Dumbledore could do nothing
now. His beautiful Harry had chosen of his own free will to entrust his heart, soul, and
body to the care and protection of his mate. Draco knew with absolute certainty that his
own soul had been made whole as a result.

Piers and Lionel – for all he was supposed to be a neutral observer – had quickly come to
be important figures in his mate’s life. Harry’s last pseudo-grandfather was Dumbledore
and that had been disastrous. Harry did not have as strong a bond with these two men,
especially since Lionel was technically an observer, but he definitely liked them, and
listened to them when they offered information.

Piers’ presence was definitely a blessing though. He was another sounding block for his
mate, and a knowledgeable one that Harry could turn to for information and explanations
as what to expect with his pregnancy.

For example, Piers explained to Harry the balance in all that was going on between him
and his mate. Piers also clinically explained the necessity for Harry’s brooding action and
how it sustained his body in its pregnancy and nurtured the children that he carried. Piers
also explained how nature balanced out the pregnant mate’s brooding with the actions of
the other mate during and after pregnancy.

Piers explained that Draco would become equally as addicted to Harry’s breasts in the
last couple of months of the pregnancy and through the first months following the birth of
the children. From about month seven of the pregnancy it was expected that Draco would
feel a strong urge to suckle at his mate’s developing breasts, and, in the first months
following the birth, he would drink the same breast milk as his children.

This ‘suckling’ would not be in any way sexual, it would be instinctual. Harry would
spend the rest of the pregnancy with an instinctual urge to suckle from his mate’s cock to
soothe the nausea he suffered, and to nourish his children. Draco’s actions would develop
and build an even stronger tie between him, his mate, and his children.

The nature of the Veela was balance. There were dominant and submissive partners - the
Veela that impregnated a mate, and the mate that bore the children - the partnership was
built on opposites combining to create a whole. One nurtured another and then the
opposite happened… complete balance to ensure serenity and joy for both.

Draco was roused from his thinking by the stirring of his mate in his arms. He looked
down to see the adoring and hungry gaze of his mate and passion took over. They were
supposed to be getting up to hear a report on the latest actions of the Veela clans in
response to their petition, but it was going to have to wait.

He used impatient and eager hands to turn Harry round so that his mate was spooned in
front of him, Harry’s back to his chest. Grabbing his wand from beneath his pillow,
Draco summoned a jar of lubrication from the dressing table across the room and
hungrily dipped his fingers into the jar, before searching out the cleft of his mate’s arse
and sending two fingers questing deep. It was a bit of a stretch, but not too much. The
only reason he did not start with one finger was that Harry had been stretched the night
before and they had fallen asleep only a few hours before.

Besides, Harry liked a little bit of friction. Draco would never hurt him, Harry knew that.
They were learning what Harry could take, and what he enjoyed. Each night spent in each
other’s arms opened up a new facet of their sexual relationship that they reveled in. They
knew they would have to face the real world again sooner or later – and deal with all the
crap that came with their lives – so they had mutually decided to enjoy themselves and
explore their relationship and their bodies while they could.

When the shivers of Harry’s body and the ecstatic whimpers from his mate advised Draco
of Harry’s pleasure, Draco lubed up his fingers again and sent three fingers probing deep
into his mate’s body, stretching and preparing him. When Harry gasped out, “Oh God…
Draco, please,” Draco knew it was time. He lubed up his own erection and held station at
the entrance to his mate’s body.

When he pushed steadily into his mate’s body he bit down at the juncture of Harry’s neck
and right shoulder at the same time, marking his mate as his, marking him as loved. Soon,
he was buried deep in the addictive and seductive heat of his mate’s passage and Draco
thrust steadily and repeatedly into that welcome heat, Harry moving back to meet every
eager thrust into his body.

Draco reached round to grasp his mate’s renewed erection that strained from the dark
curls that guarded his crotch, and jerked his mate’s erection in time to his loving thrusts.
All too soon ecstasy overtook them both and Draco released his seed deep within his
mate’s arse while Harry erupted with his own pleasure, showing his love and adoration
for Draco.

Uncaring of the come covering his hand and his mate’s stomach, Draco turned his mate
round in his arms and indulged them both in some loving kisses. It was the perfect way to
start the day.
************************************************************************
It was the end of the ninth week that Harry Potter and Remus Lupin had been absent
without leave from their duties as Order operatives, and it was time for them all to take
the next decisive stage in their campaign against all those that had betrayed them.

Over the last few weeks, the Veela clans had been busy. All fourteen Unspeakables
within the department attached to the British Ministry of Magic who were Veelas, Veela
mates, or Veela descendents resigned effective immediately.

The same thing then happened in the Auror department and every other department
within the Ministry. They all gave up any pensions or compensatory remuneration for
staying on in their posts until replacements had been found and/or trained - the Veela
High Council had already arranged other employment and financial remuneration. In all,
one hundred and twenty three employees of the Ministry of Magic simply refused to
work there any longer.

The Deputy Minister for Magic received notification that the families - Veela families -
that accounted for two thirds of his campaign funding had summarily withdrawn their
support. He was not the only politician so affected. Twenty-seven others suddenly found
themselves without the financial backing that had supported their campaigns.

The French Ministry severed all but the most basic ties of diplomatic communication and
the rest of the European Ministries sent word that, if the communication the British
Ministry received within the next week from as yet unnamed representatives acting on
their instructions, did not meet with full support, that their countries would then follow
the example of the French.

One thousand and sixty-seven wizards and witches in Britain found themselves
unemployed when the companies they worked for announced the immediate cessation of
any trading within Britain.

Gringotts Bank froze two hundred and ninety-seven personal and business accounts at the
behest of private families – or companies closely associated with foreign companies
controlled by the Veela clans.

On a personal note, Harry Potter stopped all grants of scholarship, charitable funding of
causes and secret funding of Order (or friendly to the Order of the Phoenix) companies or
organisations. He cut off all funding to Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. He did not demand
back one penny that had already been invested, but he cut off the never-ending
investment supply of money for the company. Draco Malfoy did the same with the huge
assets that he had been reluctantly responsible for with his father’s incarceration in
Azkaban – and his mother’s complete inability to cope with anything other than her next
martini lunch.

Within the space of three weeks the Veela clans had Wizarding Britain – and the Order of
Phoenix – on their knees. If any more potent a demonstration needed to be sent to signify
the stupidity of rousing the anger of the Veela clans nobody could think what that could
be. All that done, Harry and his family - and they were family - made their next move.

Marianna D’Ascalon and Lionel De Mort - all necromancers assumed that surname - sent
a joint message to Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic for the United Kingdom. Severus
had attested that the man was just an idiot and was in no way aligned with Voldemort,
and the message was simple and to the point.

In two days time, a party that bore the full support of the Veela Clans of Europe and their
High Council were going to present themselves for an audience with the British Minister
for Magic. They would be accompanied by Lionel De Mort, necromancer. They were to
be given an immediate audience. They would also be carrying the expected
communication from the European ministries. The instructions of the clans were to be
carried out immediately.

Failure to comply would result in the cutting off of ties with the rest of Wizarding Europe
and the further removal of all personnel, school students, businesses, anything and
everyone associated with the Veela Clans.

After that, the Order was the next item on the agenda.

************************************************************************
Two days later, with Harry’s hand clasped tightly in his mate’s hand, Severus stood
beside them hand in hand with Remus; also accompanying them were Lionel and Piers.
On Severus’ word they all Apparated to England and to the Leaky Cauldron.

The owner of the Leaky Cauldron had instructed Tom the barkeeper to keep the back
room clear of all prying eyes and to have a secure Floo connection to the Ministry in
place. This was to be completely private and to be done on pain of immediate dismissal if
it became apparent that any other parties, be they only curious or downright interested,
found out.

Once in the Leaky Cauldron, Severus threw the Floo powder on the fire and spoke their
secret destination within the bowels of the Ministry of Magic that Cornelius Fudge had
allowed them. He went first, followed by Remus. Piers went next and then Lionel.

Alone in the room in the Leaky Cauldron, Draco gave his mate a kiss and then stepped
into the fireplace and said the words that would take him to the Ministry of Magic and the
secure location selected for their private meeting with Fudge, taking a deep breath Harry
followed his mate through the Floo.

They’d dealt with the Necromancers, Voldemort (at least temporarily) and the Veelas…
it was time for the Ministry. After that came the next task on their list of things that
needed to be done before he got too far along in his pregnancy… taking the Order and
Dumbledore to task for their actions.

Still, first things first… the Ministry had to be dealt with.

************************************************************************
Sitting in the comfortable armchair that Draco had transfigured for him in the dusty
conference room that Fudge had arranged for their meeting with the Ministry, Harry
Potter did his best not to grin at the way Cornelius Fudge’s face had paled the further he
got in the parchment they had handed him on behalf of the Veela clans and the European
Ministries for Magic.

Fudge had done well with this meeting place. It was secure, and it was private. Severus
and Remus had both thoroughly checked the wards that Fudge had raised in the room
before he used his Ministerial override to open the previously closed Floo access for
them. It would be all too apparent for any security personnel in the Ministry with a
modicum of sense that something was happening. That was unavoidable. The wards and
spells used were all keyed to a special override that was the Minster for Magic’s special
privilege that he could invoke if he needed absolute privacy for negotiations.

The Silencing and other security Charms in place had met with the stringent scrutiny of
Severus, Remus and Draco. They were as private and secure as they were going to get.

Fudge, with trembling fingers, set the message he had been reading down on the
conference table, and sat wearily back in his chair. To Harry’s eyes it looked like he had
aged ten years in as many minutes. They had him over a barrel and Fudge knew it.

“What exactly do I need to do to assuage the legitimate anger of the Veela clans of
Europe? I’m assuming if I meet your terms you can, and will, intercede with the other
European Ministries to prevent a total breakdown in our diplomatic ties with Europe?”

Harry let out a half-sigh that he hadn’t realised he had been holding in. Fudge was going
to be reasonable. He was a scheming politician and a coward in many respects, but he
was clearly not an idiot.

Harry looked to Draco and nodded. Draco had been the most wronged of them all. Harry
would have survived and lived a life of some sort of happiness without Draco in it. The
thought filled him with horror and terror now, but he would not have known what love
and peace he would have been missing in his life. Draco was the one that had been lied
to, the one that had been forbidden to take his own life – as had been his right – and all
but been forced to serve as a spy.

Harry had been the right one to negotiate on their behalf with Voldemort – Draco had the
right to be the one to negotiate for their rights here. With absolute faith in his mate, Harry
conveyed with his eyes that he trusted Draco to speak for them both.

Draco stood and moved to stand behind Harry’s chair, and Harry felt Draco’s hands
pressing on to his shoulders, comforting and supporting. Sighing, Harry leaned back
further in his chair, feeling his head come to rest on the solid support of his mate’s chest.

“I appreciate that you acknowledge that what was done to me, and to my mate, was
wrong, and the part that the Ministry for Magic played in it. You are also fully aware that
the law is on our side.”

Face pale, Fudge silently nodded his agreement.

“We are not going to ask for the metaphorical keys to the Ministry vaults, though we
would be well within our rights to do so. We do demand – and I am not making light of
that word, we demand the following things.

“Once we have dealt with the members of the Order of the Phoenix – and I’ll get to that
in a few moments – we demand a formal apology made by you, the Minister for Magic,
to be made before a full assembly of the Wizengamot. This apology is also to be
disseminated in full in all major Wizarding newspaper publications.

“We do not demand your resignation, Minister, but you will announce your intention to
not seek re-election when your current term is finished two years from now. In that time,
you will do two things here in the Ministry. Firstly, you will begin quiet preparations to
bring this Ministry to a war footing. Thanks to our truce with Lord Voldemort, the
necromancers will make sure to make him aware of your actions, so I strongly suggest
you make these preparations carefully and you use every security precaution, but get your
people ready. War is coming.”

Harry watched calmly, as did everyone in the room, as Cornelius Fudge poured himself a
glass of water, raising the glass held in trembling fingers, to his lips, nervously sipping at
the water before nodding his head to Draco again.

“The second thing you will do, Minister, is to remember what you once were. A man, a
good man, who sought office in a desire to only do good. Not for the trappings of power
that your position grants you. You will find a replacement to train, one who still
embodies the ideals that you have since forgotten. Take heed of this warning, though.
The Veela clans will be watching. Make sure you choose well and wisely.”

Fudge opened his mouth as though to protest that demand, but shut it again without
speaking. His common sense and dread over what was yet to come was clearly stilling his
tongue.

“Albus Dumbledore is to be removed as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, effective

immediately. You have the powers to do that if you have information about the
mistreatment of a current or former pupil. You will have my testimony, given under
Veritaserum, of the events surrounding my realisation of my bond with Harry Potter, and
what Dumbledore did. My godfather will offer similar testimony.

“Lionel de Mort, one of our necromancer arbiters of our truce with Lord Voldemort, will
be an impartial witness. He can then relay the information we impart to his brethren
assigned to monitor Voldemort. This will meet the terms of our agreement with
Voldemort, ensuring that he is kept abreast of all information we disseminate to you
regarding Dumbledore and his attempt at subverting a true Veela bonding for his own
purposes.

“You can inform the School Governors that the records are sealed until the wounded
party brings Dumbledore up on formal charges, but that you have satisfied yourself in the
presence of an impartial witness of impeccable standing as to the veracity of the charges
to be brought.”

Fudge spoke for the first time, saying, “I understand, Mr. Malfoy, and I accept those
terms.”

“Thank you, Minister,” said Draco. “We intend to bring Albus Dumbledore up on formal
charges for his attempted subversion of the bond. You should expect that the
Wizengamot will call you as a witness at any such trial.”

Fudge grinned then, and Harry bit back a laugh. There had never been any love lost
between Fudge and Dumbledore.

“We will deal with the other members of the Order of the Phoenix in our own way, and in
our own time, Minister Fudge. We will hold those that backed Dumbledore in his scheme
against us accountable for their crimes. We will do this privately, though. We intend to
leave a functioning fighting force against Voldemort in place when we are done.

“It may be necessary for us to forgive – to some extent – many people who have done us
serious wrong. As head of the Order, we will hold Dumbledore to full account, as we are
holding you, as current head of the British Ministry for Magic to account, for those
Ministry employees that also supported Dumbledore’s actions.

“In our leniency in not demanding a full and international investigation of this Ministry
by impartial European investigators, you will instead instigate a private investigation that
will be monitored by observers we send from the Veela clans.

“Every person who works in the Ministry, from the lowliest janitor to your current
deputy, will be questioned under Veritaserum. We are invoking our legal right for this
questioning. Rather than the Azkaban sentences that we are entitled to demand for those
found complicit, we will accept a disciplinary note in their employee record and a ban
from any further advancement from whatever position they find themselves now
employed in.

“A full listing of those found guilty will be listed with your formal apology that you will
issue when we advise you we are ready to act against the Order of the Phoenix.”

“Considering what you could have demanded of us,” said Fudge soberly, “I thank you for
your restraint. Is there anything else that you require me to do?”

Draco smiled then, a smile of irony and resignation. “Much as it pains me, there is one
more thing. I need a Ministerial pardon for my father, Lucius Malfoy. We have business
we need to conduct with him before we send him packing back to Voldemort.”
Harry couldn’t help but grin then, Fudge’s eyebrows seemed to have taken up residence
in his hairline.

“Are you sure that is wise, Mr. Malfoy?”

“Whether it is wise or not, Minister, it is necessary.”

“Then it shall be done,” said Fudge. He then warily turned to Severus Snape, a man he
had long despised – a feeling that was entirely mutual, and said, “As you are also to be
questioned under Veritaserum, I have complete faith that you will have your own vial
with you that you want used.

“I will take on faith that you would not tamper with any potion that you would be
subjecting either yourself or your godson to. If your party is willing to permit me to use a
Dicta-Quill, I am prepared to take your testimonies before you leave again. If that is
acceptable?”

“It is more than acceptable,” said Severus with a disdainful sniff that had Harry grinning
again.

************************************************************************
Later that night, after they were safely back in their safe-house in Berlin, and Lionel had
returned to active duty after passing on his report on the day’s earlier events to the
Council of the Necromancers, Harry took the opportunity to ask something of his mate.
This was something he wanted settled before they faced down the Order of the Phoenix.

He had been pestering Piers incessantly about the traditions and culture of the Veela clans
since he had come to live with them. The old man had demonstrated the patience of a
saint with him, for which Harry was truly grateful. Draco had covered much of what
Piers related already, but there were so many more things that Piers had told him. Some
were surprising, some were almost unbelievable… and at least one thing Harry
considered absolutely essential. It would cement their standing within the clans, it would
demonstrate his willingness to embrace his mate’s culture… and it would make them
both very, very happy.

They were sitting in the living room of their safe-house, both couples curled together on
the two couches, Piers and Lionel playing chess while sitting at opposite sides of the
coffee table, and Harry chose this moment to surprise them all by disengaging himself
from Draco’s arms and moving to kneel on the floor next to the couch instead.

“Draco, as custom dictated, you claimed me in our bond of love, merging us in heart,
body, and soul. Now, as custom demands, I, as your willing mate, ask you to formalise
our union in the eyes of heaven as well as the clans.

“Draco, would you make me the happiest man alive and consent to become my husband,
as well as my mate?”
Harry smiled mistily, and eagerly let his mate pull him gently back up to the couch and
into his arms, as Draco said, “Nothing would give me greater pleasure, you silly, sappy,
Gryffindor,” before pressing his lips to Harry’s in a heated kiss.

Remus, tears shining in his eyes, eventually insisted that they break their embrace so that
he could hug his newly engaged son. The evening soon descended into a heap of
sentimentality on all sides after that.
************************************************************************
Having informed Cornelius Fudge that they would give him six weeks to get his
investigations done, Harry insisted that they ignore the furore in Wizarding Britain over
the unanimous action of the School Governors of Hogwarts in removing Albus
Dumbledore from his position of headmaster and use this time to organise and have the
wedding.

During this time, they returned to the safety and care of the Veela clans. A deadline of
one month to get the wedding preparations finalised would put Harry into the start of his
second trimester of his pregnancy. It would also then allow the newly married pair a
honeymoon period of a week before they got down to last minute planning sessions on
how they were going to deal with the Order of the Phoenix.

Representatives from every Veela clan from around the world made their way to Paris for
the wedding, all journeys cloaked in secrecy as other things like business trips or family
holidays, the clans were taking no chances with the security measures for this wedding.

As with Muggle and Wizarding custom, Veelas – mated or not – did not generally spend
the night before their wedding together. It was not deemed to be bad luck; it was simply
tradition. The day of a Veela wedding ceremony began with a ritual cleansing of both
prospective grooms on the morning of the wedding day. Harry’s delicate condition and
diagnosed brooding state meant that he could not be separated from his mate, not even for
one night.

A compromise was offered, one that was known in historical record only. It had been that
long since the clans had faced a similar situation they had turned to their historians for
guidance. As per the guidance received, in the three days before the wedding was due to
take place, Draco and Harry had been introduced to the representatives that the Veela
clans from around the world had sent to witness their wedding. They chose four
representatives to become their ‘Witnesses’. It was considered a very high honour to be
bestowed on those selected, and was welcomed as a nod to tradition from the newly
mated pair that were unwittingly turning the Veela world on its head.

When Draco and Harry retired to bed the night before their wedding, the four Witnesses
took up station – two on either side of their bed – in the armchairs that had been placed
there for their use. Draco made sure that Harry’s entire focus was on him and not the
strangers – whether or not they were invited – in their bedroom.

The following morning, Harry was so groggy with his usual morning sickness that he
didn’t even notice them as he escaped to the adjoining bathroom. Once he was done, he
sleepily returned to bed, and to Draco’s waiting arms.

As had been the case since he had first started his brooding tendencies, Harry’s instincts
and nature took their course. The Witnesses watched with awe and humility as they saw
brooding actions being demonstrated so early in a pregnancy. They all shared a common
thought…this pair truly was blessed.

Draco let Harry sleep for another hour before gently rousing him in preparation for the
day ahead. They each put on a robe of silk. Draco’s was silver and edged with the black
of the dominant Veela in the pairing; Harry’s was white, edged with the gold that
signified the submissive, pregnant mate. They parted with a soft kiss, each accompanied
by two of the Witnesses.

The wedding was being held in the ancestral home of Marianna D’Ascalon. It was
Unplottable to any not invited, and large enough to host the accompanying gathering.
Harry and Draco were taken to separate chambers within the huge house, and, again
under the watching eyes of their two accompanying Witnesses, they stood in a heated
pool, and were ritually cleansed by their closest family member. In Draco’s case that was,
of course, Severus. For Harry, Remus joyfully stood as his Pater Secundus.

Once the cleansing had been completed and the couple was wearing their wedding robes,
the guests were assembled for the ceremony itself. Piers and Lionel were given seats in
the front row reserved for special guests, both Harry and Draco had insisted on it.

The ceremony was being held in the huge banqueting hall of the D’Ascalon ancestral
home, and the room had been decorated in flowers of purest white, their myriad scents a
tantalising blend that caressed those present in the room.

A long stone altar had been set in place at the far end of the hall. Marianna D’Ascalon
stood behind it, bedecked in the robes of Senior Elder of the High Council. As the most
senior Veela elder present, she would perform the ceremony. The altar had been draped
in soft velvets and then white linens, and was surrounded with a perimeter ring of white
candles.

Resplendent in his robes of silver and black, Draco stood just outside of that perimeter
ring of candles, and to the left slightly. Severus Snape resplendent in dress robes of black
and silver stood next to him. His role as Pater Secundus to the dominant Veela of the pair
was to mirror his appearance, hence the reversal of the robe colourings.

A harp began to play and all eyes turned to the open doorway of the huge hall. There
were gasps of appreciation and wonder at the sight of the submissive member of the
pairing. He was gowned in the white and gold robes that announced his delicate condition
to the world, his doting Pater Secundus, Remus, smiling widely and dressed in robes of
gold that were edged with white was standing escort at his side.

As tradition demanded, the submissive groom had a raised hood on his robes, hiding him
from all eyes until he reached his dominant partner’s side. Everyone knew that Harry
Potter had more power than anyone in the room – even his mate. They also knew the
shocking tale of how this powerful bonding had almost been lost before it had a chance to
grow.

As a human male who had never been given any of the necessary teachings and guidance
over what to expect in a pairing with a male Veela, none would have objected had he
chosen to forego any of their traditions, especially since he was such a powerful wizard in
his own right. Instead, the grown Boy Who Lived had shown more respect for their
ancient customs and traditions than even many of their own youngsters showed
nowadays. He was loved already because of the loving bond and miraculous pregnancy
that he was experiencing. If possible, his genuine respect for their most ancient customs
made the Veela clans love him even more.

Harry Potter walked down the aisle at a regal pace, accompanied by the gentle harp
music. His hand rested on the steadying arm of his Pater Secundus and, as custom
demanded, those guests seated on either side of the aisle, stood and scattered white rose
petals in his path, a perfumed carpet for the bare feet of the groom to walk on.

Once they reached the end of the aisle, Remus gave his son the customary final embrace
of a father about to entrust his child into the lifetime care of his mate, and then stepped to
take his place next to the other Pater Secundus, Severus. Meanwhile, the four Witnesses,
all ornately dressed in their finest robes, walked up the aisle and stood at the right side of
the perimeter ring outside the altar, Witnesses for the clan members around the world not
able to be present at the actual ceremony.

Draco moved to Harry’s side and held out his hand to his mate. Harry took Draco’s hand
in his and they walked through the gaps in the perimeter circle of candles so they could
kneel in front of the altar, on the white velvet cushions that were provided for them.

Marianna clapped her hands together and the harp music ceased its gentle harmonies.

“We come here this blessed day to join in marriage these two men, one Veela and one a
human male. Nature has already bound them together with bonds of love that can never
be broken. Of their own choosing, they wish now to legally bind their lives and their
bloodlines together.

“The nature of the life of a Veela is balance. Without our mates we are a soul incomplete.
Our ancestors recognised this simple fact untold centuries ago and our rituals and
ceremonies reflect that fact, with our two most important ceremonies being our marriage
ceremony and our childbirth ceremony.

“These men are doubly blessed. The submissive male in the pairing is with child. In fact,
it seems well nigh certain that he is experiencing the first male multiple pregnancy in
centuries. Today, we will celebrate with them the first joyous ceremony we hope to share
with them, their marriage.
“Draco Malfoy, as the dominant partner in this pairing, I ask you now to disrobe in front
of these witnesses and then that you disrobe your mate.”

Draco solemnly inclined his head in acknowledgment of the instruction that was given to
him and stood, fingers calmly unfastening the laces at the front of his robe, shrugging it
off his shoulders in a move that was effortlessly elegant.

His Pater Secundus moved through the candle ring to retrieve his son’s robe, and then,
bowing his head to first Draco, then Harry, and then finally to Marianna D’Ascalon,
Severus Snape resumed his place outside the circle of candles.

His muscled and toned body reflecting the flickering light of the candles, Draco softly
muttered, “Harry” and held out his hand to steady his pregnant mate as he got to his feet.

Carefully lowering his mate’s hood so that the assembled wedding guests could see his
face for the first time, Draco smiled gently at his mate and began to unfasten the laces of
Harry’s robe. He carefully steadied his pregnant mate as Harry stepped out of the robe,
and turned to present it to Harry’s Pater Secundus, who had moved through the candle
ring to retrieve it. Remus bowed to Harry, to Draco, and to Marianna, and then he
returned to his honoured place next to the other Pater Secundus.

Once nude before the sight of the assembled guests and witnesses, Marianna, and each
other, Draco and Harry resumed their kneeling position in front of the altar, Draco
helping Harry back to his kneeling position before settling himself.

“Nude before heaven and the witnesses here present, I ask you, Draco Malfoy, to make
the first vow for this marriage. Repeat after me:

“I, Draco Malfoy, Veela, do solemnly swear before the eyes of heaven and my peers that
this man, Harry Potter, is my one and true mate, there can be no other for me but he.”

“I, Draco Malfoy, Veela, do solemnly swear before the eyes of heaven and my peers that
this man, Harry Potter, is my one and true mate, there can be no other for me but he.”

“I will protect him with my life and shall love him and honour him always. He will bear
my children, and I will dedicate my life to his care and that of any children we share.”

“I will protect him with my life and shall love him and honour him always. He will bear
my children, and I will dedicate my life to his care and that of any children we share.”

As tradition demanded, Marianna D’Ascalon asked the dominant groom, one final
question to bring to an end his first part of the ceremony, “Draco Malfoy, who is your
life?”

“My mate, Harry Potter, is my life.”

Smiling, Marianna turned her attention to Harry and said, “Nude before heaven and the
witnesses here present, I ask you, Harry Potter, to make the second vow for this marriage.
Repeat after me:

“I, Harry Potter, Veela’s Mated, do solemnly swear before the eyes of heaven and the
assembled representatives of the Veela clans, that this Veela, Draco Malfoy, is my one
and true mate, there can be no other for me but he.”

Voice clear and confident, Harry said, “I, Harry Potter, Veela’s Mated, do solemnly
swear before the eyes of heaven and the assembled representatives of the Veela clans,
that this Veela, Draco Malfoy, is my one and true mate, there can be no other for me but
he.”

“I will protect him with my life and shall love him and honour him always. I will bear his
children with joy, and I will dedicate my life to his care and that of any children we
share.”

Harry smiled as he looked into Draco’s eyes and said, “I will protect him with my life
and shall love him and honour him always. I will bear his children with joy, and I will
dedicate my life to his care and that of any children we share.”

Again, as tradition demanded, Marianna D’Ascalon asked the submissive groom, one
final question to bring to an end their first part of the ceremony, “Harry Potter, who is
your life?”

“My mate, Draco Malfoy, is my life.”

Smiling happily, Marianna D’Ascalon said, “Before heaven and the clans you have both
sworn vows of love and loyalty. The first part of this ceremony is complete.”

Marianna clapped her hands, and a Veela child, a girl who had not yet undergone her first
cycle as a woman, carefully carried a tray containing a silver jug and one empty silver
goblet. Pouring out some of the water contained in the jug, Marianna formally presented
the goblet to Draco who turned to receive it, gently caressing his mate’s cheek with his
free hand.

“Without water there is no life. Drink from this cup of life-giving liquid that you may
share it with your beloved mate.”

Draco took a deliberate sip from the goblet before carefully placing it on the linen-
covered altar. He then turned and gently pressed his lips to his mate. Harry opened his
mouth instinctively to his mate and Draco shared the water he held in his mouth with his
mate, gently licking away the slight trickle of excess water that escaped his mate’s lips.

Marianna spoke again. “Harry Potter, without water there is no life. As your mate has
offered you this life-giving liquid from his own body, now you shall do the same. Drink,
and share the water with your beloved mate.”

Harry reached for the goblet and took a solemn sip, carefully returning it to the altar.
Standing on tip-toe, Harry softly pressed his lips to his mate, sharing the water with
Draco, lovingly licking the small amount of liquid that escaped Draco’s lips.
Marianna returned the goblet to the tray and handed it back to the young girl waiting,
with awe and wonder, as she witnessed the marriage ceremony taking place in front of
her.

Marianna turned her attention to the couple still standing before the altar, and to the wider
assembly of guests and witnesses. “Before us all here assembled and the eyes of heaven,
these two have made solemn vows of love to each other and they have shared life-giving
water with their mate.

“As tradition dictates, when one of the participants in a marriage ceremony is with child,
the last part of the ceremony is a blessing of the life that has been created – and is being
nurtured by – love.

“Draco Malfoy, assist your mate to his position of honour on the wedding altar.”

Carefully lifting his mate into his arms, Draco settled Harry into a sitting position on the
altar. The same young girl as before approached the altar again, this time with a white
velvet pillow to cushion his mate’s head. Draco accepted it with sincere thanks, settling
Harry to lie back on the altar, cushioning his head on the pillow. Draco then followed
Marianna’s instruction to move to stand at the side of the altar, at the end near Harry’s
feet.

There was absolute silence in the huge hall as this, the most private part of the Veela
marriage ceremony, was witnessed for the first time by those among them who were non-
Veelas, or not at least mated to a Veela clan member.

Marianna’s voice was solemn and respectful as she said, “Let those of us now assembled
to witness this marriage make a sacred vow on behalf of all of the Veela clans.

“We will protect the life of this pregnant mate, Harry Potter, to our last breath. He and
any children he creates with his mate, we now formally accept into the Veela clans. From
this moment henceforth, Harry and his children are of our clans. This we swear, on the
honour of the Veela clans.”

As tradition demanded, everybody except for Draco, the dominant groom, repeated that
vow. Marianna then turned to him.

“Draco Malfoy, as our ancient customs dictate, I instruct you now to make the three
gestures of obeisance that a dominant Veela should make to their pregnant mate.”

Draco bowed his head in acknowledgment to Marianna, and then moved round the altar
to stand at the front, close to Harry’s head.
Voice husky with emotion, Draco said, “I do obeisance to the mouth of my mate, whose
lips shall sing lullabies to our children.” He then leaned forward and lovingly kissed his
mate’s lips.

Draco then moved slightly further down Harry’s body. Huskily, he said, “I do obeisance
to the nipples that will one day produce the milk that will sustain our children.” Draco
then tucked his blond hair behind his ears to keep it out of the way and leaned forward,
gently licking at, and then kissing each of his mate’s dusky nipples. Harry was seen to
shiver slightly at the sensation, while, at the same time, running a gentle hand through his
mate’s blond hair.

Finally, it was time for the third and most important obeisance of all. Draco turned to
await Severus, his Pater Secundus, who offered him a bowl of water to cleanse his hands,
and Remus, Harry’s Pater Secundus, who offered him a soft towel to dry the hands that
he had just cleansed.

Once prepared, Draco gently manoeuvred Harry further down the altar, so that he was
still lying on it, but Harry’s legs were now supported on Draco’s shoulders, as Draco
knelt on a waiting cushion placed on the floor at the end of the altar. His voice almost
breaking with the emotion running through his heart, Draco said, “I do obeisance to the
gateway of life for our children. It is the gateway by which we will create life, and it is
the gateway by which such life will be born.”

Draco delicately spread his mate’s arse cheeks then, and pressed a loving, humble kiss to
the entrance to Harry’s body. He then carefully stood and re-positioned Harry on the altar
so that he was more comfortably settled. Then, following Marianna’s instruction, he
returned to his earlier position, kneeling where he had knelt and made his life-long
marriage vows to Harry.

“Before heaven and all here assembled, I pronounce Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter to be
married. From this day henceforth, Harry Potter is now Harry Malfoy. This ceremony
will now conclude in the ways of our oldest traditions, with its primary two participants
celebrating their bond and their love.

“Before the ceremony started, the grooms informed me that you are welcome to remain
for this joyous event if you so wish.”

Marianna left her position behind the altar, and, when she did so, Severus and Remus
extinguished the candles that had been burning, transfiguring them instead into an opaque
privacy screen that completely surrounded the altar.

It was a high honour for a newly married couple to invite their wedding guests to witness
such an intimate event so no-one left the hall. Severus and Remus had said a Silencing
Charm when they raised the privacy screen so no sounds could be heard.
All that could be seen was the intimate silhouettes of the newly married pair as Draco
moved over his husband on the altar, carefully surrounding him with his arms and joining
their bodies in the most intimate way that two bodies could be joined.

When the soft silhouettes settled back against the altar, the assembled guests quietly
departed the huge hall. The couple would be granted privacy to dress and refresh their
bodies, and the reception and banquet would be held within the hour.

************************************************************************
On the last evening of their honeymoon, Draco and Harry Malfoy took a walk in the
gardens of the chateau loaned to them by the Veela clans, Severus and Lionel walking a
discreet distance behind as not even their honeymoon could be completely unchaperoned.

Once in the privacy of their bedroom, Draco gently divested his husband and mate of his
clothes, before doing the same to himself. “How can I please you tonight, my love?”

Harry smiled and made an exaggerated thinking face, only to yelp as Draco grinned and
swatted gently at his backside. Leaning in to press a kiss to the underside of Draco’s chin,
Harry lost all mock-silliness from his gaze, instead replacing it with love and lust. “The
first time we make love, take me from behind. After that, Draco, I leave our love-making
to your discretion.”

Swinging his husband up into his arms, Draco looked down into Harry’s eager green gaze
and said, “Your wish is my command, Harry, as always.”

Fifteen minutes later, their bedroom was full of gasping, erotic cries of pleasure, and
Harry eagerly pushed back against his husband’s cock that was deeply impaled in his
arse. He was close… he was so close. Draco gave a particular deep thrust that grazed
Harry’s prostate head on and he was lost to bliss. Crying out his ecstasy, Harry clutched
tight to the metal headboard of the bed and unloaded jet after jet of come over his
stomach and felt it trail down his trembling thighs.

Draco raggedly rode out Harry’s orgasm, thrusting with even more eagerness into his
body, and then Harry heard the hitch of breath that told him Draco had reached the point
of orgasm too. Harry groaned happily when he felt Draco’s warm release filling him up.
He didn’t know how he had ever lived his life without the feeling of Draco’s love, he
truly didn’t.

The next few minutes passed in a blur for Harry as Draco gently cleaned him – and the
bed – and drew the covers over them both. Draco’s hands continued to gently explore his
body, and Harry felt his blood sing to every loving caress that Draco’s fingers made. His
breath hitched when Draco pressed soft, butterfly kisses over every bit of skin his fingers
had just explored.

Harry let out a cry of pleasure when Draco licked tenderly at his left nipple. His nipples
had been extra tender for the past few days, and they’d both enjoyed his reactions when
Draco had played with them. Draco’s oral ministrations paused, to be replaced by gentle
fingers, investigating, not erotically caressing.

Delight in his voice, Draco softly said, “The area around your nipples is not as hard as it
used to be, Harry love. I think your body is starting to change. I think the reason your
nipples have been so tender is that your breasts are beginning to form.”
Harry’s fingers joined Draco’s in curiously exploring his chest, and tears of joy pooled in
his eyes, though they didn’t fall. Draco was right. He was no more endowed than a young
girl was when her breasts first began to form, but the process was starting. His pregnant
body was making the adjustments necessary to nourish their children.

“Make love to me,” pleaded Harry. “Draco… please.”

Draco’s tongue returned to his nipples, softly biting and lovingly caressing each one,
before questing lower to intimately play with his bellybutton. The next moments passed
in a haze of kisses, caresses and loving, soft bites, before Harry found his legs spread
wide and his hips hurriedly raised by pillows, Draco’s cock in him once again.

Eagerly, lovingly, Harry canted his hips upwards, trying to get more of Draco’s broad
cock inside him. Draco moved one hand to fist Harry’s erection in time with his thrusts
into Harry’s body, but Harry shook his head and gasped out, “No, love. This is for you.
This is all for you. I’ll come when you do.”

Draco groaned and moved his hand up Harry’s sweat glistened chest to twist and tease
his nipples instead, tugging or twisting them every time he thrust deep into Harry’s body.
Harry whimpered openly, feeling his passage clenching tight round the broad cock
thrusting in and out of him. Draco’s thrusts grew desperate and his words of praise and
love for Harry more strident, and then, Draco cried out in ecstasy, releasing his seed deep
into Harry again.

Harry gave a cry of ecstasy and locked his legs tight around his husband’s back, his entire
body shaking with the force of the orgasm he released, jets of come coating both his
stomach and Draco’s. “I love you, I love you, I love you…” repeated Harry over and over
again.

“I love you, my Harry, more than you will ever know.” Draco pressed a tender kiss to
Harry’s lips as he disengaged from his body. This time, as Draco cleaned them up, Harry
fell asleep. His last conscious thought before sleep claimed him, was feeling the soft kiss
Draco placed on his shoulder before calling out “Nox” to dim the lights, like a butterfly
kiss landing on his shoulder.

************************************************************************
“No, Harry, I’m going alone.”

Harry sighed and made ready to begin his argument again, saying, “But Draco…” and
that was as far as he got.

“This isn’t up for discussion, Harry. I’m going. You are staying here where it is safe.”
Fuming at Draco’s unwillingness to listen to him, Harry gave up the calm and logical
approach of rational discussion and went for the more flamboyant approach. Hermione
and Ginny – had he still trusted either of them – would have been so proud of him when
he got up out of the armchair, glared at his husband and calmly said, “I trust you’ll be
safe sleeping on the couch when you get back then, Draco. You sure as hell won’t be
sleeping with me tonight,” and promptly stormed out of the living room of their latest
safe-house, slamming the door shut behind him.
************************************************************************
Staring in shock at the door Harry had just slammed shut, Draco focused on the poorly
disguised laughter coming from Severus and Remus. Even Piers and Lionel looked
amused at his predicament.

“I’ve just had my first fight with Harry since he became my mate and my husband,” said
Draco with annoyance, “what the hell do you four find so amusing in this situation?
Harry hates me!”

Draco scowled at Severus when he laughed openly and said, “Don’t be a bigger prat than
you have already been this morning.”

“Severus, it’s too dangerous for him to come. You know that!”

“I know overruling Harry’s every attempt to give his side of things simply because you
are feeling protective of your mate and your unborn children, while admirable, is a sure
fire way to get you out of your marriage bed and into the doghouse.

“He is not some weak little almost-Squib, nor is he some wishy-washy girl. Your bonding
may call him to be submissive to you in bed but he is not some shrinking little flower. He
is the Boy Who Lived. He is the most powerful wizard of his generation, and unless I
miss my guess, the most powerful wizard of our modern age.

“That, I think, is why Dumbledore has tried so hard to keep him under his control, and
why Voldemort is so ready to accept that his equal and opposite in power is a young man
not long out of school, rather than a devious old coot like Dumbledore.”

Surprisingly, Piers spoke up next. “For all that your bonding is one of the strongest ever
witnessed, young Draco, you are relatively new to being in a permanent relationship. A
bonding, even more so than a marriage, is about compromise.

“A dominant Veela will always feel the urge to protect and coddle their mate. This is a
fact of life. Unless you want to coddle the spirit and fire out of your mate, though, you
have to learn that your life is going to be made up of give and take.

“Some arguments you will win. Some you will loose. Learn to pick and choose your
battles.”
“For example,” said Remus, jumping into the conversation, “you insist that Harry
accompanying you and Lionel to your meeting with your father is too dangerous for him.

“Consider the fact that you and Severus ended up abandoned to torture and probable
death on the decision of Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix. Harry could
justifiably say it is too dangerous for either of you to accompany us when we take on the
old bastard and the Order. That they had already shown once that they had no qualms
about abandoning you to death once, and that there was no way in hell that he was letting
either one of you in harms way again.

“How would you feel if Harry forbade you to come with us… just because it was too
dangerous?”

Draco opened his mouth to offer a rebuttal to their arguments and found that he had
nothing to say. “Merlin, I’ve made a mess of this, haven’t I?”

When all four of the older men in the room said “yes” all Draco could do was wince.
“Excuse me, please, while I go and apologise to my husband and try to get my point
across without coming off as a complete prat again.”

The chuckles of the older men were the last thing that Draco heard as he closed the living
room door behind him. Taking a deep breath in preparation for doing something that he
didn’t do often – apologise – Draco walked down the hallway and towards the bedroom
he shared with Harry.

Quietly opening the door, Draco slipped inside the room and shut the door behind him
again with a soft click. A small groan of distress escaped his lips as he looked at the
bowed head of his mate as he sat on the bed, with his head buried in his hands.

Harry looked up at that sound and Draco saw the tears that were threatening to fall from
his beautiful Harry’s eyes. It was the complete opposite to the contentment that had been
in them since they had returned last week from their honeymoon, and the distress in them
was his fault.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I’ve been an insensitive and overbearing idiot.”

One tear did escape Harry’s eyes then, and Harry wiped it angrily away and glared at
him, saying, “Yes, you have.”

“Forgive me?” asked Draco simply.

“I can’t stay angry at you, you prat! I love you too much. Though right now, I’m finding
it hard to remember why I love you quite as much as I do!”

Draco moved then, to sit on the bed next to Harry, carefully taking Harry’s left hand to
hold in his right, and said, “Probably because, in spite of the fact that I sometimes forget
to listen to reason, I love you more than life itself?”

Draco smiled at the half-amused, half-annoyed sniff that Harry gave in response to that
statement.

“Can I talk to you about my concerns about my meeting with my father? I have no doubt
that you could protect yourself if it came to a fight, that’s not what this is about.”

Draco took Harry’s reluctant, “All right,” for the gesture of conciliation that it was.

“I would be lying if I tried to deny that a part of my reasoning for wanting you to remain
behind is because I am the dominant mate, and you are carrying our children, so I won’t
bother. Besides, you wouldn’t believe me if I tried to claim otherwise.

“I can handle my father if it comes to a fight. I didn’t choose to openly portray my full
abilities while at home, and I sure as hell didn’t do it at school either. I knew I didn’t
want to be a Death Eater but I had no idea how I was going to get myself out of it before I
sensed you as my mate. I kept every advantage I could to myself back then.

“I honestly don’t think Lucius is going to try anything stupid. He wants to stay out of
Azkaban, and he will be eager to get back to his Lord. I still have a hard time imagining
my father willingly bowing to anyone, but I saw him do it to that madman on more than
one occasion. Somehow, he genuinely believes in Voldemort’s cause.

“The fact that I asked for his release from Azkaban will have him slightly off-kilter.
When I show up with a necromancer and a copy of the truce agreement that we have
signed with Voldemort, he will have no choice but to believe me. The Seal of the
Necromancers cannot be forged, and he knows Voldemort’s handwriting.

“He knew that I was taking the suppressing potion because my mate had refused to bond,
my mother told him so in one of her few coherent letters to him. He doesn’t know –
because she didn’t – who my mate was.

“I’m of no use to him now as a means to propagate the family line in an arranged
marriage, and he has no love for Veelas at the best of times. When the truce agreement
reveals that I am now officially mated and exactly who my mate is, well let’s just say that
will be the final nail in the coffin regarding me ever being considered a worthy heir ever
again.”

“Doesn’t that make it too dangerous for you to meet him face to face, though?”
demanded Harry, open concern and worry in his eyes.

“No, not really,” said Draco, “for two very good reasons. Firstly, as I mentioned a few
weeks ago when the idea of getting my father released as a good faith gesture was
mentioned, Lucius is nothing if not practical.

“Until Voldemort wins and he is free to get himself another heir, I am it. He cannot and
will not risk the end of the family line and name. It is the only thing he holds more
sacrosanct than his duty to Voldemort.

“We are lawfully married and you carry my heirs, his future grandchildren. By all rights
and traditions, the children you carry are entitled to certain trusts that are arranged and
held in readiness the moment the heir to the family name is born. Lucius created those
trust funds the day I was born, he cannot withhold them.

“He will see the sense in not breaking all ties with us. The monies and lands that are held
in trust are substantial by normal standards of wealth. The Malfoy family fortune is not
standard, though. We are the single richest Wizarding family in the world. You’d have to
band together the next six or so richest families’ accumulated wealth to come close to
matching what the Malfoy family has. He won’t miss the money.

“Voldemort loses the fight, and the family name is still assured, even if it is not in the
way he would particularly like it to be. Voldemort wins and Lucius divorces my mother
and finds a new trophy wife and starts from scratch with a new heir. My father is
eminently practical about such things.”

“If I live to be a thousand I will never understand the ways the old pure-blood families
think,” admitted Harry ruefully. “What is the other reason?”

“You’ll laugh at this, Harry,” said Draco, “but it is family honour. Above all else, my
father will be furious that Dumbledore and the Weasley women thought they could pull
such an outrageous deception on the Wizarding community as a whole and on me in
particular.

“They have wronged a member of the Malfoy family in a way that is unheard of. It is
completely unacceptable to let such an affront to the family honour slide. He would have
been honour bound to act on my behalf, if I had planned to do nothing. The fact that we
plan on taking the good guys down, as it were, is going to appeal to my father’s sense of
the ironic and the dramatic. Lucius will give me what I want, and the assurances I want.”

“All right,” said Harry, “I can see the logic in that, and I can even accept it – I’ve
obviously been associating with you for too long.”

“Hey,” protested Draco with a put upon expression. He laughed when Harry stuck his
tongue out at him in response. His face got a lot more serious when Harry asked, “Is there
anything else? Is there any other reason that you’ve not given me yet?”

Damn, his mate knew him well. “Yes,” admitted Draco, “there is one more reason.”

“Which is?” prompted Harry.

“I want to say goodbye to him, Harry. One way or another, I don’t expect to see him
again until we take the fight to Voldemort. When that happens, he’s going down. I won’t
let him get the chance to hurt you or our children.
“In spite of all that, though, he is my father. Not all of my childhood was bad or
forbidding, Harry. There was laughter and love in Malfoy Manor too when I was growing
up. Lucius was a big part of that.

“I did and do love my father Harry, in spite of it all. I would like the chance to have a
relatively private goodbye. I can’t avoid having Lionel present, but my father and I can
rely on the discretion of the necromancers in this, I think.”

Draco held his breath as there was a long moment of silence, though it probably only
lasted for a few heartbeats in actuality.

“Okay, I withdraw my objections. You’ve clearly given this matter a great deal of
thought. I will admit my main objection is because I thought you were going to be in
physical danger… and I was worried about how you might react to your father trying to
browbeat you into doing something you didn’t want to do.

“In all honesty, I don’t want to get too close to you father while I’m pregnant. He’s
always made me feel very uneasy when I’m not openly defying him. I can’t say I’m upset
about not having to confront him.

“I won’t fight with you about this any more. I agree it is best if you go just with Lionel
for a witness. Just… come home to me soon? I won’t rest well until you are back with us
again.”

Draco pressed a soft kiss to Harry’s left hand – which had been firmly in his clasp during
their entire conversation – and said, “Wild dragons couldn’t keep me from your side for
more than one moment than is absolutely necessary, my love.

“Just one thing, Harry; will I be sleeping on the couch when I get home?”

Draco smiled when his teasing question got Harry to laugh, even just for a brief moment.
Harry manoeuvred so that he was sitting on Draco’s lap and pressed a soft kiss to his lips
before cuddling close and resting his chin on Draco’s broad shoulder, and he said, “No,
Draco. I’m sorry for saying that. It’s just I was so angry at you and you weren’t listening
and…”

Harry leaned back in the cradle of his arms so that he could look directly into Draco’s
gaze and said, “Promise me we’ll never go to bed without resolving a fight first. I don’t
care if we are up to three o’clock in the morning hashing something out… promise me we
don’t go to sleep angry.

“It may be overly sentimental and silly, but I don’t want anger in our bed, I only want
love and respect for each other.”

Draco nodded at Harry and said with utmost sincerity, “I make that promise to you, my
mate… my husband… my best friend. There will only ever be love and respect in our
bed. You have my solemn oath.”

Harry smiled then, a smile of happiness and relief, and Draco leaned forward to join their
mouths in a chaste and loving kiss.
Harry eventually broke the kiss and backed away, saying, “Go do you what you have to
do, love. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

Draco nodded and pressed a soft hand to Harry’s stomach, letting his hand both warm
and soothe Harry, and said, “You and the babies are my life, Harry. I’ll be back as soon
as I possibly can. I love you. Always.”

“I love you, too.”

************************************************************************
Nodding politely to Lionel as the old man settled into a seat in the corner of the room,
Draco turned his full attention to his father and said, “Father, it is good to see you again.”

Lucius raised an eyebrow at that announcement but Draco had no trouble meeting his
father’s steady gaze. It was true. He had missed his father. Lucius looked much better
than the one time his mother had dragged Draco to Azkaban to visit his father.

“Draco,” was the only word his father offered in response.

“Are you satisfied to the legitimacy of Lord Voldemort’s signature and seal on the copy
of the truce agreement the Necromancers provided for you?”

“I am,” said Lucius. “You have been busy, my son.”

Draco inwardly fought the insane urge to laugh aloud at the sheer amount of emotion
Lucius managed to pack into that one sentence; there was jealousy, wry respect, and not a
little amusement all mixed together.

“Yes, well,” said Draco composedly, “you always encouraged me to strive to excel in any
endeavour.”

Lucius actually laughed aloud then. Draco was mentally tallying up the points won in
their conversation – as he had been taught since before entering Hogwarts – and added
that as a point to him. It was not often Lucius Malfoy openly expressed amusement,
about anything.

Deflecting matters back to the mundane, Draco said, “Would you like me to call one of
the House Elves to bring some refreshments? You’ve had a busy couple of days.”

“Tea would be nice, Draco, thank you,” was the placid response Lucius gave him. Placid!
His father was definitely pulling all the stops out to keep him off an even keel in the
conversation.
While they waited on the tea – and then while they companionably shared the tea and
scones that the elves brought for them – Draco and his father exchanged polite chit-chat.
Lucius enquired after Narcissa’s health, Draco assured him she was well and still also a
closet-drunk the last time he had spoken to her, but that had been before his bonding.
There was no love lost between either of them and Narcissa. She was a lovely, vivacious
woman when sober, and that was how Draco chose to remember her, as she had been
when he was a young boy. The wraith that often took her place during her drinking
binges was one that no-one who lived or worked in Malfoy Manor had ever felt
comfortable being around.

Once the niceties had been observed, the conversation turned back to more important
matters. Surprising Draco somewhat, Lucius made the first overt move.

“What is the price of my freedom to My Lord and to me, Draco?”

“There is no price per se for Lord Voldemort, Father. Arranging your freedom was
something that we offered as a gesture of good faith when negotiating our truce with
him.”

“Yes… I will return to this matter of the we in your statement in a moment. First, though,
I would ask that you answer the second part of my question.”

Draco gazed steadily at his father as, on this, he would not back down. “I want nothing
from you for myself, Father. I do want what my children are entitled to. Family tradition
demands that five trusts are prepared whenever a family heir is born; I don’t need to
lecture you on that or remind you of it. You are the head of the family, after all.

“I realise if things go Lord Voldemort’s way in the coming war then you will act to
guarantee the family bloodline and succession in a way that is more fitting to your
sensibilities.

“Until then, though, I am your sole heir and the children that my husband and mate is
carrying, are my acknowledged heirs. I will not allow any slight to their honour, nor will
I countenance any diminishment of the perceptions of the family in our social circle.

“Unless, and until you make other arrangements, they are your future grandchildren.
Before we leave here today, we will have an agreement witnessed by an impartial third
party that I can have sent to the family’s firm of solicitors.”

There were several long heartbeats of absolute silence in the room before Lucius inclined
his head in a regal fashion, saying, “You are clearly not letting love and sentimentality
completely muddle your thinking, I see. You have my agreement.

“We will draw up the necessary documents and have your necromancer companion over
there, witness it.”
Draco inclined his head in response to his father’s announcement but he did not say
‘thank you’. To say that would have implied that his father was granting him a sort of
gift, which was not the case. All Lucius was doing was agreeing to what the children
were entitled to anyway.

Lucius’ next question surprised him. His father leaned back slightly in his chair, his eyes
searching as he said, “Are you happy, Draco?”

Draco smiled then, he couldn’t help it. “Yes, Father. I am happier than I ever imagined
was possible. The bonding is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“With Potter?” prompted Lucius, his tone of voice indicating his doubt and disbelief.

Draco nodded firmly. “I know, Father, I know! I know that – based on my past
relationship with Harry, that you have your doubts, but I am happy.

“Harry was horrified by Dumbledore’s actions. He freely chose to be my mate. He is

beyond beautiful carrying our children. He proposed to me and has been my husband as
well as my mate for several weeks now.

“You will never see eye to eye with him, I know that… so does Harry. In all honesty,
though, I think you would be proud to welcome Harry Malfoy into the family, Father.”

“He took your name as his own?”

“He insisted on it.”

There were another few moments of silence after that. Draco watched as his father’s eyes
iced over in contained rage and waited for the words he’d known were coming.

“You are going to ensure that those that dared to hinder your bond are held accountable?
Such an affront to--"

“You have my word, sir, and that of Harry as well, we will not let such an affront to our
bond, or to the honour of the Malfoy and Potter families stand.

“We’ve already handled the Ministry for Magic; you should hear more about that in the
Wizarding media in the next few weeks. Dumbledore has been removed from his position
of Headmaster. Further steps will be taken against him and the key conspirators within
the Order of the Phoenix at a time that Harry and I deem best suitable.”

Lucius frowned. “Only the key conspirators?”

“They will all be made aware that any actions taken could have been more widespread,
but we do need to have at least a basic kernel of a fighting force remaining when we are
done.
“Harry flat-out told Lord Voldemort that he would come after Voldemort and his forces
with every fibre of his being after the truce period ends. Lord Voldemort fully accepted
and understood that before signing the truce.

“We will be fighting on opposite sides of the conflict if you choose to remain loyal to
Lord Voldemort, make no mistake about that.”

Lucius nodded his understanding, and then, surprising Draco, his father smiled at him. It
was a smile of pride, love and satisfaction, and it was something that had not been
directed often at him when he was growing up in Malfoy Manor.

“You have matured into a fine young wizard, my son. I think that I shall miss getting to
know the man that you have become. Still, the world is as the world is.”

“Thank you, Father.” Draco could think of nothing other than that to say in response to
something he had never expected to hear from the older man.

Lucius cast a Tempus spell and said, “It is getting late, Draco. Shall we draw up the
papers necessary to release the trusts for your children?”

As they drew up the necessary papers – after the House Elves had been sent to retrieve
some parchment and ink – the next thirty minutes passed in relative quiet and industrious
writing as the inheritance of the next batch of Malfoy grandchildren was assured.

Draco was greatly daring and quickly pressed a comforting hand to his father’s when
Lucius was finally informed that Harry was suspected to be carrying three children.
Nobody outside the immediate family and their private physicians had ever known that
Narcissa had taken a potion to kill the second child she had conceived. Draco had only
been seven at the time, but he well remembered his father’s rage and grief.

His mother had been six months pregnant at the time, well past the point for an abortion
of a fetus. She had taken a potion to kill the baby boy she had been carrying. He clearly
remembered the anonymous and totally discreet Squib medical doctors that had been
called in to carry out a Caesarean section to cut out his dead brother from his unconscious
mother. They had been Obliviated as part of their contract and had been well paid for
their gruesome task.

He had never trusted his mother since that fateful day, and Lucius had never shared a bed
with her again. Divorce was unthinkable, of course. He had fudged the way of things a
little when he had told his mate that his father would divorce Narcissa and get himself a
new trophy wife.

Narcissa would die a painful death the moment Lucius was free to act in the open, and it
would be a suitable form of retribution carried out. For such an affront to the family, his
father would want his revenge to be made public. That would require Voldemort to win
and for the Death Eaters to have free rein.

His mother was doomed, either way. When Harry won – and he would win, the
alternative was unthinkable – Draco was having his mother committed for life to an
asylum. It was the least he could do for the little brother he had lost the chance to ever
know.

Draco was drawn out of his sombre thoughts when his father cleared his throat softly and
said, “I realise that I have no right at all to ask this, especially since your husband and I
are on opposite sides of this battle, but if one of the children is a boy…” Lucius’ voice
trailed off but Draco knew what his father was asking.

Equally as softly as his father had spoken, Draco replied and said, “If I have your
permission to tell Harry what Mother did, I am sure he would not object naming our son
– if we have one – for Alexander. I would love to honour the memory of my brother that
might have been.”

“You have my permission, Draco. Use your judgment if you think the idea to be
appropriate.”

Draco stood and turned to his father, saying, “I believe our business is concluded then,
Father.”

“I agree, Draco. Our business here is concluded.”

Draco turned to look over his shoulder slightly and said, “Lionel, I believe we are ready
for the Portkey.”

Turning back to his father, Draco said, “The Portkey Lionel is going to leave on the table
for you, has been keyed to take you to his colleague, Nigel. Nigel is one of the three
necromancers assigned to monitor Voldemort for the truce.

“Goodbye, Father. Our next meeting is likely to be somewhat unpleasant so I would like
to take the opportunity to--"

Draco’s words cut off in a surprised exhalation of air and he shakily returned the fierce
hug that his father had wrapped him in. Lucius whispered a few unexpected words of
farewell that Draco had not expected, not at all.

Draco stepped back and placed his hand on Lionel’s wrist, ready for him to Apparate
them away from this Necromancer safe-house and back to Harry. Staring wide-eyed at
the expression on Lucius’ face as he watched them make their preparations to leave,
Draco smiled sadly at his father for one last time and said, “I love you too, Father.”

************************************************************************
Once back in their current base of operations, Draco’s head whipped up at the cry of
“Draco!” and instinctively opened his arms to catch Harry to his chest as his mate jumped
up to embrace him.

Secure in the love and concern that Harry’s very presence exuded, Draco buried his
cheek against Harry’s tousled mop of dark hair and strove to keep his repressed sobs
from breaking out. Harry snuggled closer and pressed a kiss to his shoulder and
murmured some nonsense words of reassurance and Draco knew his fragile control of his
composure was lost.

He was peripherally aware of the others quietly leaving the living room and granting
them their privacy, a kindness that he was profoundly grateful to them for. His mate
made a guiding gesture with his hands on Draco’s hips and Draco obediently moved in
direction of the armchair that Severus had just vacated, pulling Harry down to curl into
his lap.

He needed a few moments to regain his equilibrium. His meeting with his father had
accomplished what they needed it to do, but still, it had been far, far harder than he had
expected it to be. No matter the cause that his father supported, there had been flashes of
the man that Draco had grown up with too, and that had been flashes of a father he had
idolised.

Harry’s loving embrace was already calming him. He would never be completely at
peace with the way things had to be with his father, something he was beginning to
realise that Lucius also felt regarding him. Harry though, Harry was the difference.

Draco didn’t always have to be the strong one. If he was finding a burden too hard to
carry alone, Harry would always be there to help support him through the worst of it – as
he would be for Harry. Their bond and their love were their greatest weapons, and most
miraculous gifts to each other.

Lucius had never had that with Narcissa and had, inexplicably, chosen to place his full
trust and loyalty at Lord Voldemort’s command. It was understandable in a way, but his
father must be so very lonely sometimes.

Draco pressed a soft kiss to his mate’s temple and said, “Thank you for being here for
me, my love. It means more to me than you will ever know.”

************************************************************************
Four days after his meeting with his father, Draco Malfoy walked into the current
bedroom that he shared with his husband and mate and sighed at the sight that greeted
him. It had become an all too familiar sight to him over the last four days. They were as
ready as they were ever going to be to take on the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore,
and that, he supposed, was the problem.

A lot had happened between himself and Harry in the last few months. Most of it was
joyous, but there was one thing that marred Harry’s happiness, one thing he had not been
able to put right for his mate, no matter how much he wanted to. Dumbledore’s betrayal
had wounded his mate deeply; the apparent betrayal of his former best friends had cut
him to the quick.

Harry, however, had not been as close to the Golden Couple of Hogwarts in their seventh
year at school, though they all had remained fast friends… as a result; he could cope with
even that supposed betrayal. It was the fact that apparently it was the entire Weasley
family that had supported Ginny and Molly Weasley’s insane plan that had broken a
piece of his mate’s heart. His surrogate family had often been all that Harry had to rely on
after the death of his godfather, what with Remus having to keep his distance because of
the Ministry’s laws regarding werewolves and his Muggle relatives being an absolute
disgrace as guardians. The fact that the entire family had turned on Harry had obviously
hurt his mate far deeper than had first been apparent.

Looking at the sight of his husband sitting on the seat that overlooked the bay window of
their second floor bedroom, Draco’s heart ached to see Harry sitting with his knees
cradled to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs and a sad, lost look on his face.
Perhaps, just perhaps, the news from Severus and Remus might cheer him up a bit.

“Harry… sweetheart?”

The term of endearment slipped automatically from Draco’s lips, and he smiled as Harry
lifted his head and turned to the door, the sadness in his green eyes fading and being
replaced with peace and calm when his presence was acknowledged.

Automatically, Draco walked forward and slipped into place next to Harry, gently pulling
him onto his lap and pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s right temple, and whispering, “I have
some news, love. Something I think might cheer you up a little.”

Fifteen minutes later Harry was happier than Draco had seen him in the last few days. For
now, it was the best he could hope for. If he could, he would give Harry the moon and
stars down from the sky. He couldn’t quite accomplish that. However, if Severus and
Remus’ sources were to be believed, perhaps he could give Harry back at least a little
piece of what he had lost.

Things were not all sunshine and roses in the Weasley family. Since Harry and Remus
had gone AWOL, the Weasley twins had had almost nothing to do with the rest of their
family. If the sources were to be believed, they had never been happy with the insane
plan that Ginny and Molly Weasley – and the entire Order as a whole – had come up
with. It was possible that, Harry still had some adoptive family he could rely on.

Harry was realistic enough to accept that Severus, Remus and Draco were not going to let
him near anyone in the family until the true loyalty of the Weasley twins had been
established, no matter what his sentimental Gryffindor heart was telling him. He had
reluctantly agreed – and only because Draco had admitted that Severus and Remus had
forbidden him to go too – to leave matters to the older two men.

It was a risky enough endeavour in letting the older two men handle the situation as it
was. Harry absolutely could not be risked, not in his present condition, and they all four
of them knew that the best and quickest way to hurt Harry was to take his mate and the
father of his children away from him.

Severus and Remus would leave that night. They would not be back until they had
accomplished their chosen task. They would intercept and secretly interrogate the
Weasley twins under the influence of Veritaserum. It was almost unconscionable to
forcibly use the truth serum on two of Harry’s oldest friends. Harry understood the
necessity though. No one, no one who was a potential threat to his new family or his
unborn children could be brought into their intimate little ‘revolutionary’ circle. If the
Weasley twins were as innocent as their sources were suggesting, they would apologise.
It was the best that they could do under the circumstances.

************************************************************************
It was two days later when the wards at their hideout signaled the return of Severus and
Remus – with guests – and Draco let out a soft sigh, being careful not to disturb Harry. It
had been a long two days. It had taken – not that he was complaining – all his efforts to
keep Harry distracted from the seemingly never-ending waiting.

The easiest way to do that had been more or less keeping Harry in bed the whole time. In
the past two days, they had spent maybe an hour and a half with Piers and their three
assigned necromancer observers. Piers had been gone part of the time visiting his own
mate, Maria. She was a lovely woman who was thrilled and honoured that Piers had been
assigned to the care of Harry Malfoy and his unborn children. Lionel’s other two
necromancer brethren were cut from the same cloth as he was and took the goings on in
their current little hideaway with equanimity.

Draco could not honestly say that he regretted the way the past two days had gone.
Making love to Harry over and over again was his idea of heaven. Sliding inside Harry’s
welcoming heat was like coming home, as trite as that sounded. Harry’s openness and
enthusiasm for their lovemaking never ceased to amaze him.

Harry’s body was changing under their very eyes too. His brooding actions were slowly
easing as his morning sickness began to ease off. His breasts were continuing to develop
in a slow but clearly visible manner. Soon, it would be time for Harry to have to start
thinking about wearing some form of ‘maternity’ bra. Such things had been a staple of
the wardrobe surrounding pregnant male mates of Veelas for the last century and a half. It
was going to be somewhat surreal to see Harry in one.

Harry was very nervous about that day when it came, and had freely admitted so, but
Draco found he was actually very excited about the day. Harry was ever-so-slightly
beginning to develop his tell-tale bump. He grew half-hard every time he pictured Harry
wearing only his underwear and a maternity bra, his imagination filling in the delectable
sight that his mate would make. Draco had never imagined that he could be turned on by
the idea of a pregnant male, but when it was Harry carrying their children, he could not
lie to himself, it was one of the most erotic images he had ever imagined, or ever could.
Quietly, carefully, Draco slipped out of their bed and left his sated and exhausted mate to
his rest. They had made love repeatedly for the last three hours – Harry needed his rest.
Slipping on a pair of pyjama bottoms and his silk robe, Draco slipped quietly out of their
bedroom and went off to see if Severus, Remus and the Weasley twins could spin a
convincing enough tale for him to let the two pranksters near his pregnant husband.

************************************************************************
The following afternoon Draco stood with Fred Weasley and looked at the same sight
that he had seen just a few days before, well almost the same. George Weasley was
sharing the over-sized seat with his husband. Harry rested securely with George’s arm
wrapped carefully round his shoulders, cuddled into his older brother’s side as they both
admired the view from their bedroom window. George was the calmest and happiest
Draco had seen him since the twins had arrived the night before.

Draco breathed a soft sigh, one that was echoed by the man standing beside him –
Harry’s other older brother, his de-facto brother-in-law now.

Fred seemed to be far more relaxed now that George was happy. Draco wished he could
say that he could understand what the older man had been through, but he couldn’t. The
closeness between the Weasley twins had been legend even as far back as his first year at
Hogwarts, even Slytherin House had recognised that the pair was a matched set.

To watch his brother slowly succumb to drug addiction must have been bad enough, but
to know that – since Fred had had no choice but to assume sole control of their personal
and business accounts before George ruined them – that George had willingly whored
himself to feed his addiction must have been almost unbearable to live with.

Until one time when things had gone too far… and even George had known it.

The murderous rage that Fred must have felt when George had, bleeding and broken,
made it back to their Diagon Alley flat to shamefully and tearfully admit to being gang-
raped by Marcus Flint and some of the older graduates of the Slytherin Quidditch teams
that they had fought over the years was something Draco could relate to. If something
like that had ever happened to Harry that he had been unable to prevent… it didn’t bear
thinking about.

Flint and the others had got off lucky as far as Draco was concerned. To mess with an
identical twin was bad enough, but to mess with one who was as much a potions genius
as Fred Weasley was, well… suicidal idiocy was the best term for it.

Fred had not killed his brother’s attackers, though. No, their punishment was far more
fitting. With the help of his sister – who was nearly as good at potions as he and George
were – Fred had created two potions, and had with a cunning and skill that this former
Slytherin could only admire – dosed all of the guilty parties with them.

The first was a dual action memory potion. It permanently rendered the dosed person
unable to remember their own name, and also permanently blocked any personal familial
memories. They could function in the real world but had no memory of where or to what
family they belonged. The second potion turned them into a submissive sex-addict.

The crowning achievement of Fred Weasley’s retribution, as far as Draco was concerned,
was dumping each of the seven men involved naked and unconscious in the front lobby
of the most notorious male-only brothel in Europe. The proprietors of the aptly titled –
and Draco loved this translation – Holes for Rent must have been rubbing their hands
together with glee at their unanticipated gift.

The only fly in the ointment had been that Ginny had then had the gall to blackmail Fred
into getting him to vote – and to persuade George to do so as well – in favour of her
insane plan, on the basis that, if they didn’t, she would tell the rest of her family what had
happened to George – and what Fred had done in retribution; of course, leaving her own
name out of the saga in the process. Fred and George had reluctantly complied, though it
had never sat well with them. They had limited their contact with the Order ever since the
containment orders had been issued for all four of them, which had been since Remus and
Harry’s unsanctioned rescue mission for both he and Severus all those months ago.

Now that the truth was out and Harry had forgiven them, Fred and George Weasley were
firmly on their side. Draco knew he had the right to hold on to his anger if he wanted to,
Harry wouldn’t begrudge him that, but the happiness in his mate’s eyes was the only
thing that Draco cared about. Fred and George Weasley had helped put a spark back in
his Harry’s eyes, and, as far as Draco was concerned, they were as much a part of the
family now as Piers was.

************************************************************************
There were three hours until they left to finally take on the Order of the Phoenix and
Albus Dumbledore. The Weasley twins had returned to London two days before and had
managed to convince the Order that they had been away chasing an unexpected lead on
the whereabouts of Harry Potter, and that the situation had been too exposed for them to
call in to report.

Given their recent behaviour, their interim report had been accepted only on the basis that
a full report was to be given in front of the entire Order of the Phoenix senior circle later
that evening. That was their way in. Fred and George had sent word with the location of
the meeting and had given them the passwords to get past the wards. Later that evening
they were finally going to hold the Order to account and Harry was, quite frankly, a
bigger nervous wreck than when they had been going to face down Voldemort.

“Harry… sweetheart… you need to relax.”

Harry whirled round to face him and Draco thought Harry was going to vent a little pent
up nervous anger and worry at him. Instead though, Harry sighed and smiled hopefully at
him, moving his hands to slowly unbutton the black silk shirt he was wearing, saying,
“Help me, love?”

Draco didn’t even remember moving. The next conscious thought he had was that it was
probably illegal for Harry’s nipples and breasts to taste that good as he licked and kissed
them. Mouthing down the small mound that was their unborn children, Draco husked out,
“Anything you need, my Harry. Anything at all.”

Draco worshipped every inch of his husband’s stomach with soft kisses before
unbuckling his trousers and inching them down, along with Harry’s underwear, until his
husband’s quickly hardening cock sprang up from its beautiful bed of dark curls. Taking
Harry into his mouth was perfection. Suckling Harry’s shaft until his husband reached
orgasm within his mouth was beyond perfection.

It then quickly became as necessary as breathing to gently tug Harry to the carpet. Draco
was man enough to admit that his heart thrilled in his chest when Harry eagerly and
impatiently removed the last remaining pieces of clothes from his body and positioned
himself on his hands and knees ready to be ravished.

When Harry looked over his left shoulder with green eyes dazed with lust and breathed
out from kiss-bruised lips, “I need you in me, Draco. Please, my love. Please,” Draco
quite literally felt his breath hitch in his chest at his mate’s eager pleas to be taken.

Too impatient to even wait for his own hands to strip him, Draco released his wand from
his wand holster and said the necessary charms to banish all his clothes from his body,
and to create a jar of lube for use in Harry.

Harry’s body opened up to his loving fingers in an open and willing invitation for more
and better. Slicking up and sliding deep inside his mate, which was where he belonged,
felt incredible. Eager and soft moans fell from Harry’s mouth and they fired Draco to
even greater heights of passion; he was desperate to give Harry the release and peace that
he so clearly craved.

When Harry cried out in ecstasy, Draco smiled happily. He had pleased his mate. Four
more loving, frantic thrusts inside his husband’s still ecstatically shaking body and Draco
followed suit, emptying himself inside Harry’s body and unashamedly letting out an
erotic cry of triumph.

They both slumped to the floor, Draco still intimately buried inside his mate, and Harry
was now spooned in front of him with one of Draco’s hands resting protectively over
their unborn children.

It had been an almost fierce bout of lovemaking but it had been what they both needed in
order to relax. Draco nuzzled his mate’s neck and smiled, pleased, when a kitten-soft sigh
of pleasure escaped his mate’s lips, rather than the almost lion-like roars of pleasure that
had escaped his mate’s mouth a scant few moments before.

Harry snuggled backwards, getting even closer, and Draco smiled as another kitten-soft
moan of pleasure escaped his mate’s mouth as Harry felt Draco’s shaft hardening again
within the confines of his tight heat.
Draco gently nibbled at his mate’s shoulder. It was in the nature of a dominant Veela to
play after sex, and it was in the nature of the submissive mate to respond with shy
abandon. Draco whispered a few heated instructions to his still-lethargic mate, hardening
to full arousal the moment Harry throatily breathed out, “Yes, Draco.”

As good as his word, Draco slowly withdrew from his mate’s body and carefully stood,
tugging his mate into a standing position for a moment. Draco pulled his mate’s body
close, carefully supporting Harry’s back with one hand, and lifting him up with his other
strong forearm. Harry helped by automatically jumping up and opening his legs to wrap
around Draco’s waist, humping desperately against Draco’s hard and leaking erection.

They made it as far as the window seat that Harry had quickly grown to love. Draco sat
down on the seat and Harry sighing in pleasure, lowered himself down on Draco’s eager
cock. Draco used his hands and his voice to encourage Harry to a slow but steady pace of
riding him, before moving one of his steadying hands to fist his lover’s purpled erection,
pumping him in time to the thrusts up he was making, just as Harry was lowering down
over him.

Their climax this time was a mutual one, Draco crying out his pleasure and triumph in
synchronicity with the cry of abandon and submission that Harry made as he released his
climax all over their stomachs.

Harry slumped forward and Draco carefully and lovingly cradled his husband close. His
cock was softening inside his mate’s body. He would wait until he naturally slipped from
his mate’s exquisite body and then they would both get cleaned up.

They were as relaxed now as they were ever going to be. It was time to make a reckoning
with the Order of the Phoenix.

************************************************************************
Their most recent bout of love-making had meant that they had cut short the time they
had left themselves to get ready before going to confront the Order of the Phoenix, but
Harry did not care. He had needed the connection to Draco to help him relax. It was his
turn to take the lead again. While he had not sat back and let Draco make all the decisions
for them, he had let Draco take the lead in their interactions with Cornelius Fudge, the
Veela clans and Lucius Malfoy.

It had to be him that took the lead in the confrontation with the Order, he knew it, Draco
knew it, and Severus, Remus and the Weasley twins knew it too. Smoothing down his
pullover, Harry Malfoy looked into one of the two full-length mirrors that hung in the
room he shared with Draco, and was satisfied with what he saw.

Appearances were going to be equally as important as actions tonight. There were other
pure-blood members of the Order other than the members of the Weasley family. They
may not know the intricacies of the social structure of the Veela clans, but certain things
were considered general knowledge, especially in the pure-blood Wizarding families.
His choice of clothing was one example of that. The black silk shirt he had been wearing
earlier was fine for when puttering about in the privacy of the home or temporary
residence he shared with his mate. In public, when appearing as a part of a mated pair
that had been formally and legally acknowledged by the Veela clans after their wedding
ceremony, it was completely inappropriate.

The Order did not know about the marriage yet. Any Veela pairing had a three month
grace period from the date of their wedding before being required by law to register their
marriage with the Births, Deaths and Marriages department of the Ministry. They had
taken advantage of that fact to keep the true nature of their relationship a surprise. They
wanted the Order of the Phoenix unnerved when they confronted them.

Smoothing his hand over the right cuff of his white pullover, Harry was content. The
pullover covered his small breasts and the small mound that housed their unborn children.
His combat trousers were pristine white and moulded to his body, allowing him complete
freedom of movement. Muggle leather combat boots were on his feet – white leather, of
course. The cuffs of his pullover were edged with gold thread, and gold thread danced up
and round his left leg in the form of an exquisitely stitched gold snake.

His fingers were unadorned with rings, as was the Veela custom, and his hair was as
messy as it always was. His wand rested in a custom-designed wand holster that Draco
had given him as a gift. His sleeve on his wand arm was pulled up so that there would be
no barrier to him accessing it. His other sleeve was pulled up similarly, in order to show
the only jewellery he was wearing; the bracelet that had been on his wrist since the night
of the Paternus Blessing that he, Draco, Severus and Remus had participated in.

He was ready.

Harry turned to check on Draco and his heart skipped a beat in his chest. There weren’t
words to describe how incredible Draco looked just then. Draco’s clothes mirrored his
own and were charcoal grey rather than the customary silver of the dominant Veela, and
the ebony black thread edging his clothes sparkled with black fire in the subdued lighting
of their bedroom.

Harry waited as Draco turned to him, smiled and then walked towards him. There was the
love he had come to expect in Draco’s silver-grey eyes, but there was also a hint of
caution.

“You look beautiful, Harry.”

Harry rolled his eyes when he felt himself blushing, and shrugged as Draco chuckled at
him.

“We’ll follow your lead tonight, Harry. I know you’ve not told any one of us everything
that you have planned for tonight, and that is fair enough. We’re all gifted at Occlumency
and Legilimency, but Dumbledore is a master of those arts. You are wise to do this.
“I have to caution you again about the Veela nature, though. We’ve set every recent
tradition for a male-only mated pair on its ear; I suspect we will continue to do so. It is a
well-known fact what happens to a female Veela if she feels that her mate is threatened.

“It is much, much different if it is a male Veela sensing a threat. They do not respond in
anything like the same manner. It is difficult to explain with mere words.
“Much as it amazed me – and Severus and Remus when I discussed it with them – I did
not feel that Voldemort was a threat to you when we met with him. I cannot say that I can
guarantee the same is going to happen when we confront the Order.

“My intention is to let you do what you have to, love. If I manifest to protect you, though,
I need you to be ready to work around that. You will be the only able to control me at that
point.”

Reaching out with his right hand, Harry caressed Draco’s beloved face and said simply,
“I promise.”

Draco took a resolute breath and extended his hand to him then, saying, “Then let’s go
take apart the Order of the Phoenix.”

Hand in hand, Harry followed his mate and husband out of their bedroom.

************************************************************************
It had been ridiculously easy to get past the security wards to the chosen meeting place
for that evening’s meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. Dundas Hall on the border of
Wizarding and Muggle Manchester was a good choice. The fact that Dumbledore had
decided not to go to the effort or re-defining the wards to exclude Order members that
were absent without leave was just ridiculous. The man’s arrogance and presumption of
his magical superiority beggared belief.

“Unbelievable,” muttered a disgusted Remus under his breath, and it was a sentiment that
Harry full shared.

Using a blast of the wandless magic that he had (and normally carefully played down),
Harry slammed open the closed door of the huge dining room that was pulling double-
duty as a meeting room. They had – with the gleeful help of the Weasley twins – also
subdued and contained any lower echelon Order members that weren’t privy to the
meetings of the senior members.

“Hello, Old Man,” said Harry in the wake of the stunned silence that filled the room, “I
understand you’ve been looking for me.”

“Harry!” shrieked Molly Weasley with a mixture of joy and fury, “where have you--"

That was as far as she got. Eyes blazing, Harry extended his hand and she was shoved
back into the seat she had been trying to rise from.
“Stay away from me.”

“Harry!” The cry was outraged this time.

Harry didn’t have to look behind him to know that Severus, Remus, Fred and George
were covering all four sides of the room, and that Draco was standing ever-watchful just
behind him.

“I’ve come to hold the Order of the Phoenix accountable for their actions against me and
mine,” said Harry. “Does anybody have anything to say in your defence?”

There was an outraged mutter from the members of the Order and Dumbledore frowned,
saying, “Mr. Potter--"

“Don’t Dumbledore… just don’t,” said Harry. His calm and steady tone had a profound
effect on the younger members of the Order of the Phoenix that were present. They knew
that it was at times like this he was most dangerous.

“Doesn’t anybody have anything to say?”

“We did nothing wrong,” asserted Molly Weasley.

Harry turned three hundred and sixty degrees, glaring at everyone in the room.

“Nothing wrong… nothing wrong?!” The chandelier in the dining hall shuddered at the
waves of magic that Harry was unconsciously sending out in his anger.

“As a group, you conspired to keep from me the knowledge that Draco Malfoy had
sensed me out as his mate. You lied to him and told him that I had refused the bond!

“If that is not crime enough, he was then forbidden from choosing to end his own life as
is custom! Instead you condemned him to a half-life under the thrall of unneeded potions
and repeatedly sent him out on dangerous missions to gather intelligence to help us all in
this fight – all the while hoping that he did the decent thing and got himself killed!

“All so the road could be clear for me to do the expected and done thing and marry Ginny
Weasley, being the dutiful hero marrying his best friend’s little sister and turning myself
into an even bigger symbol for good. Not, of course, forgetting that this would cement the
Weasley family’s position in the upper echelons of Wizarding society.

“Am I missing anything there?”

There was an uncomfortable silence then, though no more than about fifteen heads bowed
in shame. The Weasley twins, Severus and Remus made careful note of those bowed
heads though. It was the first sign of remorse from anyone in the room.
“Mr. Potter,” began Dumbledore again.

Harry interrupted him with a glare and said, “Malfoy.”

“Excuse me?” was Dumbledore’s reply.

“I will never excuse you, Dumbledore,” ground out Harry, “nor will I ever forgive you.

“I said, Malfoy because that is my name, Harry Malfoy.”

“You didn’t,” breathed an appalled Molly Weasley.

“I did,” said Harry, a smile of grim satisfaction at her horrified understanding as his
meaning sank in. Her eyes finally seemed to take in the clothes he was wearing – and the
colours - and she whimpered quietly.

Harry turned and glared at his former headmaster and mentor. “You knew how much
family meant to me, Dumbledore. You especially, who sent me back year after year to a
barren Muggle home full of emotional, verbal, and sometimes physical abuse.

“You knew I longed for someone I could turn to, someone I could love and rely on.

“My almost unforgivable mistake was in trusting you enough to tell you all that.”

Dumbledore’s eyes had lost their twinkle and faces were beginning to pale throughout the
room.

Harry didn’t let up in his tirade. He had buried this hurt and anger in his heart for months
now. He had trusted these people and they had betrayed him, deeply hurting Draco in the
process. He would let his feelings out.

“Do you remember the TriWizard Tournament, Dumbledore? Do you remember what
you told me when you visited me in the Gryffindor dormitories when I was packing up to
go back to the Dursley home?

“You apologised to me for putting me in danger that year, and then said that the time was
coming that everybody was going to have to choose between what was right and what
was easy.

“Do… you… remember?” grated out Harry.

Dumbledore nodded and said, “I do.”

“And still you robbed me of even the right to choose about my own life. No, not only
mine!
“You deliberately planned a course of action that robbed me of my right to choose and
potentially end the life of Draco Malfoy, all because he had then unmitigated gall to come
into his Veela inheritance and discover that his mate was me… your planned saviour and
most important weapon in the war against Voldemort.”

Several people flinched when Harry said Voldemort’s name and he threw up his hands in
anger, accidentally detonating a couple of the crystals dangling from the chandeliers. As
fine quartz powdered rained down on the floor, Harry growled and said, “For fuck sake,
it’s just a name, people!”

McGonagall – one of the ones that had bowed their heads earlier – said, “You clearly
found out about our actions in support of the headmaster’s decision when you and Remus
rescued Mr. Malfoy and Professor Snape.”

Harry smirked and said, “But he’s not headmaster any more, is he? We’ve already seen to
that.”

Gasps echoed in the huge room and Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed.

“I’ll get back to that in a few minutes. Yes, I found out about what you had all done when
Draco begged me – when we were in hiding from both enemies and allies – to let him go,
before the effects of the potion finally left his body and he did something he knew I
didn’t want.

“Imagine my confusion, if you will, since I had no clue what he was talking about.”

The silence in the room was decidedly uncomfortable at that irate and snarky tone of
Harry’s voice as he answered McGonagall.

“Considering I had secretly been in love with Draco since seventh year at school anyway,
I accepted the bond, as I should have had the right to do at school!

“Draco and I instigated a full bonding. Make no mistake about this, any of you. Draco is
my mate and I am his.

“We were married in accordance with the laws and traditions of the Veela clans, and I am
no longer Harry Potter. I am Harry Malfoy, and will be until the day I die… hopefully, of
extreme old-age and surrounded by our children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and
hopefully, great-great-grandchildren.”

Harry’s hand was on his stomach as he made that announcement, and Draco had moved
to stand at his back, his own hand snaking round Harry’s waist to rest over Harry’s,
before pressing a kiss to Harry’s hair. He then moved back to his waiting and watchful
position as guard to his mate.

“Mr. Pot-… Mr. Malfoy… it was highly unethical of you to put your own needs and
desires ahead of the countless innocents that will be hurt in this war when your
unnecessary condition makes you unable to fight – as is your duty.”

“Draco, no,” said Harry softly, firmly, as Draco growled low in his throat. Similar
mutters and growls were coming from Severus, Remus and the Weasley twins, so Harry
pressed on with what he had come to do and say, before the others lost control of their
tempers entirely.

“Unethical?” responded Harry. “You dare to stand there and preach about ethics,
Dumbledore, after what you did to me?”

Dumbledore’s head was unbowed, but so was Harry’s.

“You created a hell of a mess for me, you old bastard. I couldn’t deny the call of my own
heart and Draco’s. It was the right thing to do. More to the point, it was the only thing I
could do and remain true to my heart.

“I have a mate and husband now; I am pregnant with our children…”

Gasps interrupted his casual announcement of a male multiple pregnancy. Harry forged
on regardless.

“Severus and Remus used independent means of verification – from both Light and Dark
sources – to identify the Order traitor that betrayed Severus and Draco to Voldemort.
This traitor is clearly highly placed as they had permission to approach Voldemort
directly – a right we all know is reserved only for those of Voldemort’s inner circle.

“I was left with the knowledge that the Order betrayed me by taking my right to choose
away from me, and that they were conspiring to marry me off to someone I didn’t love.

“The knowledge that you condemned two loyal and courageous men to torture and death
because it was more convenient to say it was too dangerous to rescue them –
conveniently tying off the two main loose ends in your Veela deception – and damn the
fact they had saved many of your lives, many times over.

“And I was also left with the fact that I had to find some way to protect not just myself
and my unborn children, but also the whole Wizarding world, while I was unable to fight
to defend it.

“All the while knowing that I was going to have to clean house in the Ministry and the
Order and still leave an effective fighting force in place at the end of it all, because I am
going to take Voldemort down.

“Not for you, though. I’ll do it for my family, my true friends, and for the unfortunate
general public, both Wizarding and Muggle, that have no idea of the dangers they face –
from both sides of this Wizarding war, apparently.
“I’ve already started. The Ministry is handled – for now, as is Voldemort. By the time
this evening is over, I will have started to clean house here in the Order.

“Fudge has already agreed to our terms and we have allowed him to take the main
responsibility for the actions of the Ministry during the conspiracy of silence against me.
He’s also making preparations to get the Ministry on a war footing.

“Dumbledore, you are away from Hogwarts where you can do no more deliberate harm
to a child under your care. Testimony under Veritaserum questioning has already been
taken from Draco and Severus. It was witnessed by a neutral third party and will be part
of the testimony offered against you at your trial in front of the Wizengamot.

“You are finished in this war, Old Man.”

Dumbledore raised his hand and all hell broke loose. His expression remained calm but
his intent had clearly been harmful. Everyone in the room knew that. Draco Malfoy’s
actions unequivocally proved that.

The pullover he had been wearing was in shreds on the floor. His skin was not currently
the famous porcelain white of the Malfoy family. His skin had darkened to burnished
silver, and almost-wings of silver fire burned from his bare back. His left hand shot out
like a whip-crack and a barrier of silver and black fire danced round him, Harry, and their
allies.

The chaos that erupted in the room quickly calmed and then it happened, the turning of
the tide against Dumbledore. Half the room were on their feet in an instant, their wands
trained on Dumbledore, and the other half quickly sensed the way the wind was turning
and followed suit.

The Black Fire of a male Veela had not been witnessed in nearly a century, and it could
only manifest itself if the Veela felt a genuine threat to the life of their mate. The self-
same mate that was currently pressing a firm hand to the ferocious face of his protector
and instructing his mate to stand down for now, but also to remain alert for further
attacks.

Dumbledore had intended to do harm to Harry Potter… Harry Malfoy… whatever he was
called now. If the bonding had not been a true one, if the love between Harry and Draco
had not been genuine and heartfelt, then he would not have been able to manifest the gifts
of his Veela heritage.

Dumbledore – and they – had interfered with a true Veela bonding, against all laws and
custom. The group assembled before them all, the two young men in particular, had every
right to demand vengeance.

They had been wronged, dreadfully wronged.

As Dumbledore was bound to his seat with magical restraints and his wand confiscated
by Minerva McGonagall, all eyes in the room watched as Fawkes gave a strident cry of
disapproval at Dumbledore, before flying over to land on the closest empty chair near
Harry Malfoy’s group.

The symbolism was not lost on anyone present in the room.

“Mr. Malfoy,” said McGonagall quietly, “we will get to the matter of what manner of
recompense you demand that the Order of the Phoenix makes to you and your husband.

“First, though, if I may, can I please ask you to continue with your explanation? You
mentioned that you had handled Voldemort for now. We ourselves have noticed a distinct
lack of action in the Dark camps.

“How have you accomplished this?”

Harry smiled. It was time to set the cat even further among the pigeons.

“That was relatively straightforward actually. I contacted the Necromancer High Council
and asked them to act as arbiters of a negotiation between myself and Lord Voldemort.

“Voldemort and I reached a satisfactory agreement on all sides. There is an eighteen

month truce in effect, arbitrated by the necromancers.

“Voldemort knows full-well that I intend to fight him and defeat him at the end of the
truce. He was still satisfied enough with my offers in the negotiation to agree to the truce.

“In the meantime, he knew I would be handling the Ministry, the Order and Dumbledore.

“He was outraged that you had interfered with a Veela bonding. It is, after all, one of the
most ancient laws we have in our world.

“I think he is looking forward to seeing what sort of havoc I cause when ‘cleaning
house’.”

McGonagall was so shocked by his announcement that she sat down abruptly on the
floor, her legs having lost the ability to hold her up.

Hermione Granger asked the next most logical question – one Harry was surprised that
nobody had asked yet.

“You mentioned a traitor?”

“Yes.”

“Damn it, Harry! Who is it?”

With the exception of the Weasley twins, Harry turned and glared at each other Weasley
in turn and then announced in a voice like quiet thunder, “Ginny Weasley.”

************************************************************************
“Lies!” screeched Molly Weasley, “all lies!”

“Then why isn’t she here?” said Harry, his tone both implacable and calm.

“I--"

He interrupted the mother of the Weasley clan. “Could it be something to do with the fact
that I informed Lord Voldemort – as per our truce agreement – that tonight was the night
that I planned on bringing the Order of the Phoenix to justice for their betrayal of me, and
that he wanted his pet spy out of the line of fire?

“She was summoned to this meeting, wasn’t she? Tell me, didn’t any of you find it
slightly unusual that she was not in attendance? Especially when the meeting was
supposed to detail information on, among other things, my location… the professed love
of her life?”

The silence in the room was telling.

“Quite frankly,” continued Harry, a Malfoy air of derision on his face had he only known
it, “I don’t care what any of you think any more. You are supposed to be on the side of
what is right and good. Protect the innocent; defend the helpless, fight tyranny… any of
that ringing any bells?

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re as big a bunch of traitors as the Death Eaters, at least
they remain loyal to their ideals, though! You betrayed one of your own! Not only that,
you willingly broke laws and traditions that had been in place for centuries in order to do
so.

“You deserve what you get, every single one of you!”

The next sound in the room didn’t actually come from Harry or anyone else in his party,
nor did it come from the cowed members of the Order of the Phoenix. Instead, it came
from the only other person whose head had remained unbowed during Harry’s tirade,
Dumbledore.

Harry’s eyes narrowed as he watched events unfold as though in slow motion. Clearly
Dumbledore’s magical restraints had not been as effective as intended – either through
carelessness or a deliberate action, and that was another thing for him to get to the bottom
of later.

What he did know was that the old bastard was loose and he didn’t need a wand to be
able to cause havoc. Harry unconsciously said the shielding spell to protect himself and
their unborn children, and not a second too soon. The spell that Dumbledore had
deliberately cast at him seemed to echo in the huge dining hall as a complete damnation
for the man that had cast it at the prophesied hero of their war… Sectumsempra.

It was a horrible curse to cast at anyone, one that had been highlighted in the seventh year
Defence Against the Dark Arts classes at Hogwarts. It ranked as close to Unforgivable as
a curse could get and be exempt from that label, especially when the person targeted was
with child. Then again, that was clearly what Dumbledore was attempting to do…
eradicate the perceived impediment to Harry’s fighting ability.

Harry’s shield effortlessly blocked the curse, and it was the last thing he had to do in this
latest little melodrama, Draco saw to that.

Harry didn’t even remember blinking, but the next thing he saw was that Draco had
moved from his protective position guarding him, to confront Dumbledore directly. The
old bastard never knew what hit him.

It was only in the historical record of the last century that the Black Fire of a male Veela
was even mentioned. It was closer to three centuries since the Black Fire of a male Veela
had ever needed to be used for anything other than a deterrent… until now.

Draco Malfoy did not hesitate. There had been an overt threat to the wellbeing and very
lives of his mate and unborn children. Once he reached Dumbledore, he extended arms
that had muscles like steel bands, pulling the former headmaster of Hogwarts to his close
embrace, and then, he simply closed his wings of Black Fire around the man held in his
unforgiving and implacable embrace.

As contradictory as it sounded, the room flared with flames of blackest night, and when
Draco Malfoy let loose an inhuman cry of satisfaction and triumph, every person except
Harry clapped their hands to their ears.

Draco Malfoy turned back to his mate then, rage and bloodlust slaked now that
vengeance was served, and stalked back to his waiting and watchful position as guard for
his mate and husband. The pile of ash on the floor where Dumbledore had once stood
was mute testimony to the unleashed rage of a Veela.

Almost as one, the members of the Order of the Phoenix silently realised that they were
doomed… unless Harry Pot- Harry Malfoy deigned to show them mercy.

Harry did what he had to do in order to keep his mate and his husband calm, he accepted
the protection that Draco’s Veela nature had required of him, and didn’t mention it again.
It was the quickest and easiest way to calm his mate; this was something that Harry
instinctively knew. Instead, he turned to McGonagall as the person who had shown the
most common sense and remorse so far. For now, he would deal with the Order of the
Phoenix through her.

“Minerva” – he was her equal and more, he would not show her any more respect than
she had earned – “here are my terms.

“As is the case with Fudge acting for the Ministry for Magic, you will be responsible for
the questioning – under the influence of Veritaserum – of the members of the Order of
the Phoenix.
“Those that are revealed to harbour enough ill will for me and mine to cause a serious
threat to our lives or safety are to be exiled to an Unplottable manor house of my
selection. The house will be under the Fidelius Charm and only me, Draco, and a member
of the Necromancer High Council will know of its location.

“They will be sequestered there for the duration of my truce with Lord Voldemort, and
the war that will follow.

“Should I win, they will be released from their plush prison only to serve trial in a public
forum like the Ministry for Magic. Draco and I will accept whatever sentence such a trial
results in for their deliberate attempted subversion of our bond.

“Should Lord Voldemort win, the Necromancer High Council will inform those members
so sequestered and give them the option of returning to a much changed society or exile
away from the Wizarding world.”

“What else, Mr. Potter. Excuse me, I mean Mr. Malfoy.”

Harry sighed and leaned back against the support of his mate’s chest that he knew would
be there. “Apart from Molly and Ginny Weasley, I will be satisfied by a formal apology
printed in the media publications of the Wizarding world at large.

“I can’t afford to let due process of law take so many potential fighters from the cause of
the Light, even though it is within my and Draco’s rights to do so.”

There was an almost palpable silence after Minerva McGonagall swallowed hard and
said, “And what about the Weasley women?”

Harry’s green eyes fixed on the woman that had been his surrogate adoptive mother
throughout his time in the Wizarding world. A pin dropping to the floor could have been
heard in the room, before he said, “You were the source of the first, and to be honest,
only motherly love I clearly remember. That is what makes your actions so impossible to
forgive.

“For the sake of the friendship I once had with all your family, particularly your youngest
son, and for the sake of the friendship and bonds of affection and love that I do still share
with Fred and George, I will offer you two simple alternatives Molly Weasley, and it is
far more than you deserve.

“Option one is simple. If you show no remorse under Veritaserum questioning for your
actions in the unconscionable schemes of your daughter, you will be made to subject
yourself to trial in front of the full Wizengamot for a deliberate attempt at subverting a
Veela bonding.

“Make no mistake, if the sentence passed is the full ten years in Azkaban, I fully expect
you to submit yourself to your deserved punishment.
“Option two is much less dire for you personally, but no less drastic. If you formally
disinherit your daughter and announce to the Wizarding media her – and your full list of
crimes – I will consider your debt to me and mine paid.

“In either case I will never speak to you again. You are dead to me now.”

Molly Weasley’s sobs of grief almost drowned out Minerva McGonagall’s shaky
question of “And Ginny Weasley?” but not quite.

Harry turned his head to look up at his mate then, his expression indicating that Draco
could speak for them both on that matter. Draco Malfoy, Veela, and heir to a bloodline
older than any other in the room, spoke his first and only words of the confrontation.
They were elegant in their simplicity and finality. “Ginny Weasley dies.”

Hermione Granger was the only one that seemed willing to break the ominous silence
that fell then. She was pale, apart from flushed cheeks, probably more annoyed about
having to subject herself to Veritaserum to declare her loyalty to the overall goals of the
Order – and not just Dumbledore or Ginny Weasley’s scheming – and said, “And what
about the fight against Voldemort?”

Harry had to give her points where points were due. She was still in the minority of the
members of the Order who would actually use Voldemort’s name rather than the
ridiculous epithet of the Dark Lord.

Harry glared at his former best friend. Her testimony under Veritaserum might prove her
not completely beyond redemption, but he would take no bets on the subject. Since
Hogwarts, he had found himself pulling away from Hermione and Ron, with good
reasons. They had been very vocal with their opinions and they were not always right,
nor ones that he had shared, but he had long ago learned to hide his true opinions on
certain matters.

“Those Order members that do not turn out to mean physical or emotional harm to me
and mine – and who make the formal apology that Draco and I are due – will still be
welcome in the Order of the Phoenix.

“You will receive new leaders and planners, people me and mine choose to lead the fight.
Some may already be Order members, some may be people that we bring in from outside
to assume position of authority. If that is the case it will be because we trust them not to
abuse that trust.

“And in case any of you are sitting there glowering silently about my high-handed
treatment of you, even though we all know I have the legal right to do so; let’s ask an
unimpeachable source of good, shall we?

“Fawkes has been a constant companion of the late unlamented Dumbledore for years.
He formally accepts each member into the Order of the Phoenix, after all. Let’s ask him,
shall we?”

Harry turned then to address the phoenix that hadn’t so much as blinked when his former
chosen companion was incinerated by the Black Fire of a Veela and said, “Fawkes, who
is the true leader of the Light? Whose orders should the members of the Order of the
Phoenix obey?”

Fawkes flew over to hover above the heads of Harry and Draco and called out in an
almost unearthly cry of power and joy. The message that particular cry conveyed was
clear.

Smiling, Harry said, “Any questions?” Surprising him not one bit, there were no
questions.

“Severus, Remus, Fred and George will stay here until neutral observers from already
cleared members of the Ministry for Magic, as well as selected representatives from the
Veela clans, can be here to witness all of you undergoing Veritaserum questioning.

“You will not like what I do to anyone who tries to harm any of the four of them in
carrying out this duty, I promise you that.”

Harry turned his back on the assembled members of the Order of the Phoenix and held
his hand out to his still-transformed mate and husband. The message of Harry reaching
out to Draco was clear in its simplicity. Their bond was clear for all to see.

The pair walked to the doorway that Harry had blasted open less than an hour before.
Once at the doorway, they waited for Lionel to slip Harry’s Invisibility Cloak from about
his body and Harry silently cocked his head at their observer. They were ready to go.
Was he?

Five minutes later, they were back in their current hideout. Piers fussed about getting
Lionel a cup of tea and Harry and Draco excused themselves to go to their bedroom.

************************************************************************
Inside their bedroom, Harry lunged at Draco and fixed his mouth to his mate’s, before
leaping up and wrapping his legs around Draco’s waist. Hissing in Draco’s ear, Harry
cried out softly, “So fucking gorgeous. So fucking incredible watching you protect us.”

Draco growled in response and Harry sighed eagerly when he felt his mate biting gently
at the underside of his chin.

Harry opened his eyes long enough to gaze into Draco’s intensely burning eyes before
dropping a soft, chaste kiss on Draco’s silvered shoulder. “You are beautiful like this,
Draco. More beautiful than I ever imagined possible.”

Draco’s mouth fastened on his and Harry gave himself up to the sensation of his mate’s
mouth claiming him. Five minutes later they were naked in their bed and Harry had no
clear recollection of how they got there.

His attention was instead focused on the incredible gift that Draco was giving him. It
went completely against the nature of a dominant Veela to submit to anyone in a sexual
encounter. The brooding action of a pregnant mate was not the same thing, not at all.

Harry was fine with that, he truly was. Draco needed to take care of him and he knew he
had blossomed in allowing Draco to take care of him. He didn’t feel it was in his nature
to top anyone in a sexual encounter, but he would pleasure Draco with his mouth if that
was what Draco wanted.

They had done this less than five times since they had become mates. Harry was going
down on Draco. Taking Draco’s erect shaft into his mouth was an exhilarating
experience, and always would be. Even more exhilarating was the fact that this close to
the perfection of Draco’s nude body, Harry could not fail to see the shimmering silver of
Draco’s transformed skin, every hair on his body, including his pubic hairs, had turned
silver too!

When Draco released into his working mouth, Harry lovingly swallowed every pulse
down. He released Draco’s still hard cock with a gentle kiss to its crown and softly said,
“How do you want me, my love?”

When Draco gently manoeuvred him into position on the mattress on his hands and
knees, Harry whimpered happily. When Draco was buried in him balls deep, Harry
groaned in ecstasy. When Draco withdrew from his body and then thrust deep again – at
the same time, draping his re-ignited wings of Black Fire around their bodies in a fiery
benediction, as he pounded deep over and over again – Harry screamed out his ecstasy.

Draco’s cum soothed his hungry body and they fell asleep almost immediately after their
shared climax. Draco’s ‘wings’ had extinguished themselves when he reached orgasm,
but his skin was still silver. Harry knew this because his last sight before he fell asleep
was the palm of the hand that he kissed, before he pulled it to lay protectively over the
mound of their unborn children. The skin would fade back to normal colour by the
morning, now that they had – as a bonded pair – shared sexual release.

Harry fell asleep with Draco still intimately buried deep within him. He felt completely
loved and cherished as he lay in his mate’s arms. The Order was in the process of being
handled and his mate had killed to protect him and their children. As bloodthirsty as it
seemed, Harry’s blood was still thrilling to the memory of Draco’s protective actions.

Slowly, ever so slowly, they were taking their lives back.

************************************************************************
Naked, Harry stood and looked at the difference that the last six months had made to his
body. He had not expected anything so profound to come of the decision he and Remus
had made to rescue Draco and Severus from Death Eater imprisonment – it was
something that he had needed to do, or he would have never been able to live with
himself.

Finding out that he was the mate of a male Veela should probably have freaked him out
more than it did, especially considering it was Draco Malfoy who was the Veela in
question. It hadn’t freaked him out in the slightest. It had felt right, like the first time he
had held his wand in Ollivander’s shop, only more so… so much more.

Fred and George – who had been the only two of his old circle of friends and
acquaintances that had known he was still a virgin – had asked him if he ever wondered
about what he was missing out on in not being in an equal sexual relationship, both
topping and bottoming with his lover. Six months previously he would have been
blushing like a schoolgirl when discussing sex with him as a participant in the act, but no
longer.

He was quick to argue against the viewpoint that the Weasley twins professed, though.
He had demanded of them if it really mattered about who did what when a couple were in
bed together. He was at peace with the idea that – in the bedroom – his nature would be
to submit to Draco’s care and love. It was not because he was weaker than Draco or that
Draco was more ‘male’ than him, or anything equally as idiotic. His trust in the love that
he and Draco shared was absolute. Draco would rather die than take advantage of him or
hurt him, and he felt the same way.

He was addressed as the submissive member of his bonding with Draco, but that was
only by the Veela clans. It was the nature of the Veela to distinguish a dominant and
submissive person in a pairing. This was necessary for their rituals and ceremonies, and
also because it was the nature of the Veela to coddle and protect the mates that completed
their hearts and saved their sanity by freely choosing to love them back. If anyone else
tried to call Harry submissive or weak, they’d get a hex somewhere really painful!

His and Draco’s relationship was an equal relationship in every respect. Sometimes
Draco took the lead, sometimes he did, but they always acted for the good of everyone.
His eloquence in reassuring the Weasley twins had surprised Harry as much as it had
surprised them, but it had reassured them that he was truly content with his life.

Harry jogged himself out of his daydreams and pulled on the pair of white briefs he had
picked up after finishing towelling himself dry from the shower he had just finished. His
gaze was drawn back to his reflection in the full-size mirror on his wardrobe door. Six
months ago he hadn’t even realised it was possible for a man to be pregnant, and he had
certainly never imagined himself in such a condition.

His muscle tone was slightly less defined than it had been. He kept up with the exercise
regimen that Piers insisted that he follow, but his body needed exercise in different ways
than before his pregnancy. He was as healthy as he had ever been. His body had adapted
to pregnancy as though he had been made for it all along.

Harry gently cupped his right breast from below, feeling the weight there, where there
had been none six months before. His breasts continued to develop in pace with the rest
of his body. Draco had been suckling from them each night for the last week. The milk
they contained was currently a bit tart, at least according to Draco. Piers assured them
both that it was completely normal. Apparently, the first hint that he was in the final
stages of the pregnancy and soon ready to give birth would be when his milk had a sweet
taste to it instead of tart.

Harry let the hand that was cupping his breast move lower, letting it rest over the now
pronounced bulge of his pregnant belly. He had got a lot bigger over the last few weeks.
It had been wonderful to watch his body changing, wonderful and humbling. He and
Draco could not seem to help but touch his belly at every opportunity, smiling more and
more every time they did so. Their children were in there!

Harry gasped slightly and stroked at the tiny hand or foot that had just kicked out,
murmuring, “Yes, little one, I know. It’s time for breakfast. I’m going as soon as I get
some clothes on, okay?”

Harry turned to the bed to capture up the next piece of clothes that he had set out before
heading in for his shower, his bra. Six months ago he would never have imagined
wearing such an item of clothing, not now though, now it was like second nature. The
pregnant mates of Veelas – both male and female – had worn maternity bras for over the
last century and a half.

Once he had the bra round his lower chest, Harry tugged it round his body with practiced
ease, the fastening resting securely at his back and the bra cups were ready and waiting to
support his breasts. With fingers now familiar to the task, Harry pulled the cups over each
breast and pulled the straps up over his arms; he then fidgeted with the straps until they
rested securely on his shoulders.

Turning back to the mirror to check that the bra was sitting right and his breasts and
nipples were level – something he’d had no idea females ever needed to do – Harry
breathed out a happy sigh as he beheld his body. He’d always wanted children to love,
but he had never dared to imagine the possibility that he could carry them in his own
body. Draco had given him more than just love, and a husband and mate that adored him;
Draco had given him one of the dearest wishes of his heart come true.

Smiling happily, Harry turned to pull on the rest of his clothes. White socks, white
drawstring trousers, white moccasins for his feet, and, finally, a white pullover that
covered his upper body completely but also showed off every round curve of his body.
The only gold today was the bracelet he wore to celebrate the blessing that had given him
Remus and Severus as family, but still, it was enough. His ensemble highlighted his
condition as a submissive, pregnant mate, and also showed how well his pregnancy was
progressing.

He wanted to look his best today. After breakfast, he and Draco were expecting visitors
from the Veela clans, the Ministry for Magic, and the Order of the Phoenix. They were
going to get the first monthly report following the re-structuring of the Order of the
Phoenix.

He was the focus of the fight, and the new leader of the Light following Dumbledore’s
death, a fact that even those that were still unhappy about his bonding and marriage with
Draco Malfoy – and that fact had hit the papers with the announcement of exactly how
Dumbledore had died – acknowledged as undeniable. He was also mate to Draco. He
would never dream of trying to hide that fact, no matter how much other third parties
might wish for him to do so. If he did, it would be an insult to the Veela clans that had
welcomed him so freely, an insult to the mates of Veelas everywhere, and an insult to the
bond of love he shared with his husband, and to the children that he nurtured within him.

On the day that he had become mates with Draco, Harry had solemnly and silently vowed
to never let anyone’s expectations make him hide who he truly was, simply to ease their
feelings. From now on people accepted him as he was, he would hide who he was for no
one person or organization ever again.

Lovingly smoothing his hand over their unborn children one more time, Harry turned
away from the mirror and headed from their latest bedroom in their latest safe house. It
was time to join Draco for breakfast. They would have their meeting later this morning
and then the whole household was moving again, this time to a safe house selected by
Severus and Remus.

The people coming to the meeting were allies, but the security and safety of Harry, Draco
and the children were still the overriding concern of the men they had each chosen as
Pater Secundus. They had been in this safe house long enough. It was time to move. The
rest of their belongings had been packed away yesterday. After the meeting, they were
free to go.

**********************************************************************
The flames in the fireplace blazed a vibrant blue-green for a moment and then returned to
their normal colour. Harry sighed with relief and pushed his shoulders back in a tired
stretch. They had spent the last ten minutes standing and shaking hands, making their
goodbyes – for now – to their wider group of allies. He was, to put it politely, knackered.

The meeting had overran by a good hour, but they had got a lot done, and the news was
encouraging. The formal apologies from over four dozen witches and wizards, including
Cornelius Fudge and Minerva McGonagall, had gone a long way to hammering home the
wrong done to the Veela clans in general, and Harry and Draco in particular.

Those that had lost their jobs as a result of the heretofore unexplained actions of the
Veela companies and organisations that had withdrawn business or financial support
from their employers now understood why. It was not Harry or Draco that was inundated
with irate messages when the truth was revealed. For the most part, the general
Wizarding population of Britain was not caught up in the fight against Voldemort – other
than as potential victims – unless idiotic actions by the politicians and movers and
shakers of their world involved them without their knowledge.

The amount of people actually on the front lines of the fight was actually quite small. The
whole country would feel the effect if the fight was lost, but it was a select group of
Ministry, Order, and other personnel that were spearheading the fight, not the public as a
whole. All they were concerned about was the loss of a lot of jobs because of the unheard
of gall of a group of people who thought they could circumvent age-old laws and get
away with it. The public made their displeasure felt in the forms of scathing letters and
the odd Howler.

As satisfying as it was to know that he and Draco had the wider support of the general
public, it was in the details that emerged from the meeting that Harry took comfort.

Cornelius had selected his replacement, a choice that Harry and his intimate supporters
found eminently acceptable, Augustus Merryweather. He was a former Auror who retired
to form a company dedicated to the production of potions to aid the medical community.
His company was heavily involved in charity work and supported several programmes
specifically geared towards helping magical creatures that needed a constant supply of
potions to regulate their nature, but who could not always afford those potions.

The man was a respected fighter, a clever businessman, and a philanthropist in his way.
He had lost his brother to Voldemort’s first rise to power and had been a vocal minority
in the business community in firmly believing what Dumbledore and Harry Potter had
claimed, that Voldemort was back in business with a vengeance.

The Ministry under the watchful eye of Fudge and his new deputy was steadily moving to
a war footing. Aurors and Unspeakables were now firmly tasked with intelligence
gathering and were part of any operation that the Order of the Phoenix planned.

The Order – at the instance of Harry and Draco – led the way in the fight. They had been
more geared toward a war footing in the last few years than the Ministry had been. Their
operatives were – for now – more up to speed.

The truce with Voldemort did not preclude intelligence gathering – on either side – and
noticeable strides had been made in identifying previously unknown Dark sympathisers,
be it people or companies. The production of healing potions was proceeding apace, as
was the production of battle robes, battle-holsters and other aids to future fighters.

Those future fighters were being put through hell and brought out the other side under the
watchful eyes of their new leaders and trainers, in both the Ministry and the Order. Their
existing skills were honed to a high level and then new skills were added to the mix.
Fudge and Merryweather were trusted to handle the Ministry, under the watchful eyes of
the observers that Harry and Draco insisted on, of course.

The day to day running of the Order of the Phoenix was turned over to Minerva
McGonagall and Severus Snape. When she had to be at Hogwarts, he was solely in
command, but other than that, they worked as a pair. Arthur Weasley – who was found to
be sincerely apologetic about the actions of his wife and daughter in particular, and his
family as a whole – was moved to Hogwarts as its Deputy Headmaster.

Remus Lupin, Fred Weasley and Neville Longbottom were the three squad leaders for the
main assault squads of the Order of the Phoenix.

Neville had heard about the furore in Wizarding Britain in a letter from his still feisty
grandmother. He had been studying for a Muggle PhD in botany to supplement his
Wizarding knowledge of Herbology. He had moved to Australia after leaving Hogwarts,
and was staying with a younger cousin of his grandmother. He had not known anything
of the Order’s goings on in keeping knowledge of the bond between Harry and Draco
away from Harry. He had immediately taken an indefinite leave of absence from his
studies and come home to support Harry and Draco.

George Weasley headed the potions research division of the Order, nominally under
Severus Snape’s supervision (when he had the time), and he was assisted in that role by
Hermione Granger. As Harry had suspected, Hermione had proved to be loyal to the
wider fight. She thought the bond between Harry and Draco was wrong, but she knew
there was nothing that could be done about it now.

Neville brought in his ex-girlfriend, and someone the Order had ignored as a flake, to
handle the day to day logistics for the Order as a whole. Luna Lovegood was a revelation
in her assigned task and had quickly earned the respect and admiration of the entire
Order.

Charlie and Bill Weasley were still members of the Order of the Phoenix after their
Vertiaserum questioning. Quietly breaking a piece of Harry’s heart, the same could not
be said for Ron Weasley, Oliver Wood or Dean Thomas. They were under house arrest
until the war was over.

Molly Weasley had spouted pure poison when questioned on her feelings about the now
irrefutable nature of the bond between Harry Malfoy nee Potter and Draco Malfoy. Even
her husband had been horrified at the hate that had poured from her mouth. The judicial
courts at the Ministry had taken one look at the transcript of her testimony and found her
guilty. It was undeniable, especially since it had been handled by third party observers
from the Veela clans under the watchful eyes of four Aurors from the Ministry. She had
been sentenced to the full ten years in Azkaban that her crimes demanded, with no hope
of parole.

Strong hands rubbing at his aching shoulders and lower back caused Harry to smile and
he turned to look up into his husband’s concerned gaze. “I’m fine, Draco, honestly.

“I’m just tired. When we get to the new safe house I will take a nice long soak.”

Draco pressed a soft kiss to his temple and murmured, “A light meal first, love, and then
you can have your soak. After that, it’ll be straight to bed for you.”

Harry leaned back into the steady and unfaltering support offered by his husband’s broad
chest and sighed softly, saying, “That is a plan I can live with.”

Draco motioned for Lionel and Piers – the remaining two people in the room – to go, and
the two older men Apparated away. He then extended his wrist to Harry, who
unhesitatingly placed his own hand on the wrist Draco had offered. He was no longer
magically stable enough to Apparate himself, and instead had to rely on others to initiate
a Side-Along Apparation with him.

He had more than enough innate magic to still be able to magically shield himself and the
children from a possible attack, but he had several layers of tracer charms placed on his
body and there was one of a hand-picked group of ten absolutely trusted people with him
at all times if Draco, Remus or Severus were away. Those ten people had been
extensively questioned under Vertiaserum and had tracer charms placed on them as well.

Harry didn’t mind the close monitoring, he truly didn’t. It was as much for the peace of
mind of everyone as a whole, as it was for his protection. He was too important to be
risked. He didn’t like the fact that any one of these ten people would die to protect him,
but he understood the necessity.

“Ready?” asked Draco.

“Ready,” confirmed Harry.

Less than a minute later they were gone from their Welsh safe house and headed for a
house in Manchester.

*******************************************************************
It was a little over an hour later and Harry was finally getting the soak that his aching
body had craved. It was wonderfully therapeutic to lie there in the warm water,
surrounded by bubbles fragranced with mango, but it was the presence in the bath with
him that was the greatest therapy of all… Draco. He gave a contented sigh.

“Happy, sweetheart?” asked Draco, softly.

Lying there being supported by Draco’s strong chest, with his husband’s toned and
muscled thighs steadying his body on either side, Harry laughed softly at the absurdity of
the question. “Of course, I’m happy. I’m with you.”
Draco chuckled and pressed a kiss to his hair, and said, “I’m glad, love. Now lie back,
relax, and let me look after you.”

Harry sighed blissfully when Draco began to move a soft washcloth over his front. Draco
was working from touch – and easy familiarity with Harry’s body – and it felt absolutely
decadent to lie there and let Draco trail the cloth over his sensitive breasts, pronounced
belly and half-hard erection.
Draco shifted position then, effortlessly lifting him out of the water and causing a minor
tidal wave in the bath, but, when they settled in the water again, they were chest to chest.

Draco continued his ministrations with the cloth up and down Harry’s back, and over the
mounds and then into the cleft of his arse, all the while pressing soft kisses to Harry’s
shoulders. Sitting, the feeling of Draco’s hardness pressing against his own and his
sensitive nipples rubbing against his husband’s strong chest, Harry whispered a plea for
more.

Draco pressed a kiss to his forehead and then lifted him out of the bath; Harry
automatically wrapped his legs around his husband to aid him in carrying him quickly
and easily. Draco stepped carefully out of the bath then, quickly grabbing up a towelling
robe from their collection to wrap Harry in. Draco then quickly grabbed up his wand and
said a few quick charms to take care of cleaning the bathroom.

After quickly toweling himself dry and wrapping a fresh robe around himself, Draco
slowly unfastened Harry’s robe, toweling every inch of him dry and following the path
the towel made with soft kisses and loving words murmured against his skin. A fresh
robe was wrapped round his body and then Harry was swept carefully into his husband’s
arms again, and carried through to their newest bedroom.

Draco lowered him to his feet next to the bed and efficiently stripped the covers down to
the bottom of the bed. He then teasingly undid the tie fastening of the robe that Harry was
wearing, before slowly stroking his hand up the valley between Harry’s breasts and
towards his right shoulder. A firm push and the robe slipped off Harry’s right shoulder.

A similar path was trailed by Draco’s left hand, and Harry stood there, with the robe
bunching at his elbows, the entire front of his body on display for his husband and mate,
while still wearing his robe. Harry wiggled his arms and his robe pooled, unnoticed, to
the floor. His full attention was firmly focused on the lust and devotion shining in
Draco’s eyes as he looked at him.

Harry extended his hand to catch at the tie to Draco’s robe and said softly, “I think it is
time we christen our new bed, mate of mine.”

Within the space of two heartbeats Harry found himself on his back on the bed, his head
cushioned by a multitude of pillows, and the magnificent nude form of his husband
leaning over him. It was at times like this that Harry admitted to himself that the
romances that his female friends had used to read at school – stories that he had secretly
rather liked – were perhaps not completely wrong after all. He had loved the romance in
the stories but had found the language muttered in the bedroom to be a bit flowery, to say
the least.

That opinion had lasted until he had mated with the man carefully keeping his full weight
off of him as he lay over him. Anyone with an eye for beauty had to admit that Draco
Malfoy was a perfect specimen of the male form, power and strength combined with
grace and gentleness. “Take me Draco, please.”

The entreaty and heartfelt desire in his voice as he spouted words that would not be out of
place in any one of those romances was apparent even to him. Perhaps they had not been
so far off the mark after all. Draco’s soft growl of satisfaction and desire was clearly
audible. The kiss that claimed Harry’s mouth was the stuff that dreams were made of.

Harry obeyed his mate’s whispered instructions to lie back and let Draco do all the work,
letting his body awake to passion under the knowing hands and mouth of the man
pleasuring him. Draco knew every inch of his body, and he knew what pleased and
aroused Harry.

Heated kisses trailed down his jaw and along his upper body. They then moved to each
shoulder, trailing down the outside of his arms and then back up the inside of the arms,
gently biting at the sensitive skin there. Only once each arm and hand had been seen to
did Draco’s tormenting mouth return to his upper body. By the time Draco was gently
tormenting Harry’s extremely sensitive nipples Harry was whimpering in ecstasy.

The pleasure did not stop.

Draco’s teasing tongue played with his belly button that had popped ‘out’ five months
into his pregnancy. Strong hands that were infinitely gently as they touched him, stroked
over his hips and down each leg in turn, followed by Draco’s heated lips. Draco sucked
briefly on each of his big toes – a promise of what was soon to follow – and Harry gasped
out, “Oh, please!”

The heated lips traveled back up his legs, softly biting at the sensitive flesh of his inner
thighs, and then Draco finally, finally, reached his goal. Harry reflexively spread his legs
wider as Draco ran a decadent tongue up the underside of his erection, before briefly
dipping it in to the tiny slit at the tip, licking up the droplet of pre-cum that had rested
there.

Draco’s mouth was at turns playful and at turns masterful, and every moment his mouth
was in contact with Harry’s erection was sheer heaven. Draco pulled back on the shaft he
had been tormenting to kiss the purpled crown, before making the return journey down
Harry’s cock until his nose was buried in Harry’s dark pubic curls. The teasing fingers of
his right hand stroked at Harry’s ball sac and his left hand snaked up Harry’s body to rub
repeatedly at Harry’s extremely sensitive and hard nipples.
Draco then deliberately swallowed round the cock that he had taken half way down his
throat and Harry was lost to bliss. Jets of cum emptied out of him and down his mate’s
throat, and Harry cried out, “Draco! Draco!”

Draco did not release him from his mouth until Harry had stopped shaking, and he then
moved back up Harry’s body to lie beside him on the bed, turning Harry to curl into his
body. Harry gasped in pleasure when Draco fastened his mouth to his own, and softly
moaned in pleasure when Draco’s tongue speared into his mouth, sharing the taste of his
orgasm with him.

Draco then moved to capture Harry’s right hand and pulled it down to join his own in
stroking Draco’s hard and velvety erection. As they mutually drove Draco towards his
own orgasm, Draco continued to claim Harry with his mouth, only briefly stopping their
heated kisses to allow them the chance to gulp in some air, before capturing Harry’s
mouth yet again.

Harry looked steadily into his mate’s eyes when Draco began to pulse his own orgasm
over their still working hands. Smiling softly, Harry surrendered his heart to his mate
again, and said, “Yours.”

Draco echoed the sentiment hoarsely whispering, “Yours.”

By this time, Draco’s orgasm had died away and Harry untangled their hands from
Draco’s now softening cock, keeping hold of Draco’s hand in his and bringing them both
up to his mouth. Slowly, deliberately, under the heated and watchful eyes of his husband
and mate, Harry licked Draco’s juices from their hands. Draco’s eyes re-ignited with
passion as he watched Harry.

When Harry was done, Draco gently used the hand that Harry had just cleaned to tilt his
chin up and to the side. Harry obediently exposed his neck to Draco’s searching gaze; he
knew what his mate was looking for. The other reason he had worn a pullover this
morning had been the huge love-bite on his neck. It was okay for their intimate friends to
see such marks of passion, but not for the people that had visited this afternoon. That was
why he had hidden it.

Harry sighed happily when Draco bit gently at the mark, renewing it yet again. It was a
mark he had been wearing since Draco started suckling from him, and, according to
Piers, he would have a similar mark somewhere on his body at all times until Draco and
their children stopped feeding from him.

Harry smiled blissfully as Draco slowly moved his mouth back down his body towards
his breasts. They’d stopped having anal intercourse two weeks ago at Piers’ instruction,
and Draco had taken great pains since then to reassure him that he was still attractive to
his mate and still intoxicating to his senses. This was, again according to Piers, a natural
progression in the behaviour of a Veela and his pregnant mate.
They had been advised at the time that it was at and around this time that Draco could be
expected to start suckling from Harry. It was slightly earlier than with a normal
pregnancy of a male mate of a Veela, but Harry’s multiple pregnancy put all timetables a
little bit awry.

Draco’s seeking mouth had reached its target and Harry gasped as he felt Draco start a
suckling action at his left breast. Harry shut his eyes in pleasure when he felt Draco’s
mouth lapping at the first trickle of milk leaving his breast. Dear heaven, the sensation
was indescribably humbling. Draco’s mouth worked at his nipple for almost five minutes
before finishing with a soft kiss to the tender nipple. Draco then trailed soft kisses down
his left breast, along the valley between them, and then up his right breast and to his other
waiting nipple.

Harry gently cupped the back of Draco’s head as his husband began his suckling yet
again, reveling in the growing bond forming between them. A long time ago, when Draco
had first described what happened when a Veela mated with a male, he had mentioned
feeling each other’s joy and pain, and that when one mate died the other would follow.
That thought didn’t even bear thinking about, but the other one, feeling each other’s joy,
that Harry could now understand better.

As their bonding and later marriage had progressed, Harry had found himself feeling
more contentment and peace than he thought was possible for any one person to
experience, and then he had realised why. At times, he was feeling what Draco was. If he
was separated from Draco and Draco was in the same building, he could focus on his
feelings for Draco and know, without fail, what room he was in.

He had known how heart-weary Draco had been after his meeting with Lucius, and how
incandescent with rage he had been when he had neutralised Dumbledore as a threat to
his mate and children, and he knew how happy Draco was every morning when he woke
up to Harry cuddled into his side. He’d talked about it with Draco and Piers. Draco had
admitted to similar feelings coming from him, and Piers had assured them that they were
building one of the strongest bonds he had ever witnessed as a Veela medi-wizard.

The feeling coming from Draco as he slowly finished suckling from his right breast was
joy, and it was a joy that Harry wholeheartedly shared.

Draco moved to pull the covers up over them, and he pulled a cushion to support Harry’s
stomach as he lay on his side with Draco spooned protectively at his back.

Draco called out “Nox” and Harry softly whispered, “Goodnight, Draco.”

Draco pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder and said, “Sleep well, my heart.”

Harry shut his eyes and hoped to dream of what their lives would be like after the
children were born and they had won the war.
 Chapter 15: At Last... Claimed

**********************************************************************
Harry was distracted from his daydreaming as a familiar and somewhat hesitant voice,
said, “Harry?”

He made a move to get up from the armchair he’d been resting in. Hermione quickly
motioned for him not to rise on her account. Instead, he motioned for her to take the chair
opposite him, and softly said, “Hermione.”

The silence between them was uneasy and Harry desperately thought of something he
could say that might make this slightly easier for her. She’d undergone a change of heart
in the weeks that had followed Dumbledore’s death and the restructuring of the Order.
Her initial questioning under Veritaserum had made no bones about her dislike of Draco
or of her profound uneasiness, and disapproval of the bonding between him and Harry.

George Weasley had been working on her for weeks to approach things from two
viewpoints: an analytical approach to why Dumbledore had failed in his scheme to keep
Harry in the dark, and why things were much better for the Order and the side of the
Light now that Harry and Draco were basically in charge. The other approach he told her
to take in reviewing her feelings was as a long-time friend of Harry, one who had known
of the life he’d had with the Dursley family, and the dreams that Harry had held close to
his heart.

George had then challenged her to search her feelings again and see if she still shared the
same opinion that she’d held under her first questioning. Hermione had taken a two day
leave of absence from her Order duties and retreated to her private rooms in the current
Manor house that housed the key players of the Order of the Phoenix, ones that had to be
housed secretly and securely for their own safety and that of their families.

At the end of that period, Hermione had gone straight to the heart of the issue and sent an
Owl to Draco asking to be re-questioned under Veritaserum. She wished to make her
apologies to Harry and she wished to reassure his mate and husband that she meant Harry
no harm. It had been a surprising request. In her way, Hermione had always been easily
as prideful as some of the pure-blood or Slytherin witches and wizards that she professed
to pity for their narrow and prejudiced views. It was not often that she admitted she might
be wrong about anything.

Her questioning had been carried out by Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall. Draco
had not trusted himself to be impartial enough to someone that had caused his mate such
distress. Surprising them all, Hermione had passed the extensive questioning session with
flying colours.

Deciding to go straight to the heart of the matter, Harry said, “I appreciate the apologies
that you gave to Draco, Severus and Remus. They are my closest family now, and I don’t
like to see them hurt in any way.”
There was a fond almost-smile on Hermione’s face when she said, “Still putting others
and their wellbeing before your own, eh Harry?”

Harry shrugged somewhat sheepishly. It was his nature to do so. He was not as bad about
it as he had been but sometimes he couldn’t help himself.
“I was a prejudiced prat and an unfeeling idiot and lately I have definitely not been worth
the friendship we once shared. Will you please forgive me?”

Harry said the first thing that came to mind and that was, “That must have been some
think about things that George sent you off on.” He grimaced slightly when he realised
that he had been a tad blunter than he had intended to be and breathed softly in relief
when Hermione laughed.

“Hermione, you are one of my two oldest friends. I won’t deny that you hurt me, deeply.
I wasn’t looking forward to not having you in my life, though. I missed you when our
friendship changed in seventh year, and I missed talking to you about the whirlwind that
my life has been in the last seven months.

“I was supposed to be able to call up my oldest friend and tell her that I had fallen head
over heels in love. I was supposed to be able to call and say that I was pregnant and going
to be a father! I was supposed to be able to invite her to my wedding.

“Your complicity – along with the rest of the Order – in the schemes of Dumbledore,
Molly and Ginny Weasley, robbed me of that chance. It almost broke my heart when the
information Severus and Remus obtained said that I could basically trust no-one in the
Order.”

There were unshed tears in Hermione’s eyes so Harry quickly added, “Having said all
that, I know that those three all had very devious reasons of their own for working so
hard to influence the Order the way they did.

“You have looked past what you were told and examined your heart. You’ve made your
apologies and asked for forgiveness from all of us that you wronged. How can I not
forgive you?

“I can’t imagine you not being in my life. I can’t imagine what my schooldays would
have been like without your friendship.”

Hermione did cry then, gentle tears of relief and happiness. Harry knew his own eyes
were burning with unshed tears as well.

“Thank you, Harry. From the bottom of my heart, thank you,” said Hermione.

Harry grinned then and said, “All right, then. Enough of the mushy stuff. Tell me what
you have been up to in your spare time when not making George’s brain hurt with all
your questions and ideas.”

“Only if you tell me what it is like to be an expectant daddy-to-be, Harry.”

“Deal.”

They talked for hours and there was a lot more laughter and tears, on both sides, but, by
the time their heart-to-heart was done, the healing of their friendship was well underway.

Much later that night, cuddled against Draco in the bath they were sharing – it was a
nightly ritual now to ease Harry’s heavily pregnant body of any aches and strains – Harry
turned to press a soft, loving kiss against his husband’s strong shoulder.

“Thank you for giving Hermione back to me as a friend, Draco. I know it wasn’t easy for
you to do. I appreciate it more than you can know.”

Draco’s voice was a rumble against his back as he lay cocooned in his husband’s arms,
with Draco’s hands gently resting over their unborn children. “I’ll never like her that
much, Harry, and you would know I was lying if I said any different.

“I can accept her in your life, though. Besides, when the children grow up she will be a
ready source of tales of your schooldays that I will never be able to tell. She will have the
Gryffindor perspective for them.”

Harry chuckled at that and said, “Hermione telling our children stories of all our school-
day adventures. Now that is quite an image you’ve put in my head, love.”

Draco shifted slightly and Harry felt his husband’s erection hard against his hip. In a
husky, lazy voice, Draco said, “How about I take my lovely mate to our bed and make
sure he goes to bed with far more intimate images in his head?”

Harry let out a happy sigh and said, “You do have the best ideas, don’t you my love?”

It was a lazy bout of lovemaking that followed. Draco stroked him to completion and
then he encouraged Harry to help him to release as he worked himself; all the while, they
exchanged uncounted kisses together and whispers of devotion. As had become custom,
Draco let Harry indulge himself in one of his favourite pastimes, and let Harry lick their
hands clean of the evidence of their release.

Once their heartbeats had steadied to a regular rhythm again, Draco indulged his nature
as a Veela, and suckled from Harry’s breasts until they were both sleepy and satisfied.

They were completely sated and content when they fell asleep.

***********************************************************************
The three weeks that followed Harry and Hermione’s slow resurrection of their friendship
were busy ones all around. The training and re-training of the Order’s operatives, not to
mention a good few of the Aurors from the Ministry, continued at a steady pace. The
difference that the last couple of months had made in their skill level and preparedness
for battle was astonishing.

Arthur Weasley seemed content at Hogwarts and seldom spoke of his wife. He did love
her still, but he had been horrified at the hatred her Veritaserum questioning had revealed.
As head of the family, he had formally and magically disowned his daughter, as had her
brothers still serving in the Order of the Phoenix. Only the under house-arrest Ron and
imprisoned Molly still called Ginny family.

George Weasley had worked to get his remaining ‘free’ brothers talking again, and fences
were being mended between the twins and their big brothers, Percy included. He was one
of the few Ministry people that had been kept out of the loop when it came to the
conspiracy of silence surrounding the bonding that should have existed between Draco
Malfoy and Harry Potter.

He was a bit player in the Ministry now but seemed happy enough in the administrative
role that Augustus Merryweather had selected as ideal for him. He had been too much
Fudge’s lackey to have a great deal of faith placed in his wider abilities, but if there was
one thing that Percy could be, it was patient. He would apply himself and be entrusted
with greater responsibilities in the future. It was something that Harry and the other
Weasley family members firmly agreed on.

The core command structure and section leaders of the various departments of the Order
were beginning to mesh into a cohesive unit. More than that, stronger relationships were
beginning to form as well. Some of the older members of the Order had made mutterings
about such close ties being a bad idea during war time.

Harry acknowledged that some of their arguments had merit but he had not split the
pairings up when they formed. War was coming. His people deserved to take some
comfort where they could.

The unlikely pairing of Fred Weasley and Luna Lovegood was now an acknowledged
couple. Her ‘vagueness’ had been drilled into her at a young age to protect her from
potential exploitation from either the Light or Dark for her transient Seer abilities. It was
a gift more keyed to seeing personal futures for people than anything overtly useful to the
war effort.

In an ironic symmetry, George Weasley had found a steady presence at his side and a
stout heart willing to help him share the burden of the nightmares of demons past. George
was well on his way to be coming as strong as the George of old, and it was all thanks to
the love and dependable solidity of the Luna’s ex-boyfriend, Neville Longbottom.

Hermione too, was slowly coming out of her shell. She and Ron had not lasted as a
couple much past their first year outside of Hogwarts, but she and Charlie Weasley just
might.

Harry drew his attention away from daydreams about everyone living happily ever after –
he was a romantic at heart, so sue him – and opened the door to walk into the potions
research lab that was George and Hermione’s home away from home.

He quietly called out to Hermione and she looked up from the cauldron she had been
working over.

“Five minutes, Harry. Go sit in the safe zone at the far end of the lab.”

Harry obediently followed Hermione’s sensible safety precaution. He would keep any
volatile potions far away from him as he sat in the warded and ‘safe’ section of the lab.

True to her word, Hermione began making her way to him precisely five minutes later.
Harry stood to meet her half way. He was two steps outside the safe zone and Hermione
was two steps away from him when a frantic female voice called out, “Evacuate!
Evacuate! Evacuate!”

Before anyone had a chance to move, a huge fireball erupted from one of the
experimental potions. The screams of the technicians closest to the fire were horrific.
Harry – for the first time in his life – froze at the wrong moment. Hermione must have
seen the terror he held for his unborn children in his eyes.

She literally launched herself at him, screaming as the flames caught her unprotected
back, but she had achieved her goal. Her quick thinking knocked Harry back through the
wards of the ‘safe’ zone. They wouldn’t let the fire through to the ‘safe’ area, but they
would let living creatures and people through to safety.

He hit the floor hard and gasped as he wrapped his arms around his stomach. Eyes filled
with terror for Hermione and the others, Harry drew his wand and then dropped it to the
floor in anguished frustration. Now that he was behind the wards, they would not let him
or any magic out until the threat had been contained and neutralised… he couldn’t help
them.

Tears streaming from his eyes at the inferno still blazing on the other side of the now
violently shimmering wards, Harry shut his eyes and sent out a mental shout. They had
never tried this before – it was not supposed to be possible until a bond had been
established for years – but he needed him.

Draco! I need you!

Chapter 16: At Last... Claimed

**********************************************************************
Draco sighed as his husband whimpered in his sleep, raising Harry’s hand to his lips to
press a soft kiss of reassurance and love against Harry’s palm.

It had taken less than five minutes from the point when Harry had made his mental
distress call for Draco to reach the lab, Severus and Fred accompanying him. The scene
that had greeted them was one of horror, and it was one that would stay in Draco’s mind
for a long time to come.
They had been able to see into the room, but had not been able to get past the security
wards that had activated the minute the experimental potion had escaped containment,
and the room had ignited into flame. All they had been able to see were burning bodies
and Harry had been nowhere in sight. Only the fact that Harry had been able to call for
aid – and the fact that Draco could feel his soul vibrating with Harry’s distress and fear –
had kept Draco sane. He’d known Harry was still alive somewhere inside.

Face grim, Severus had turned to him and said that the wards would not lower until the
fire inside burned itself out and all traces of whatever potion had exploded had been
removed from the atmosphere. The only way Harry could still be alive inside was if he
was behind the additional protective wards at the end of the room. The only person that
could penetrate the wards and get to him was Draco, wrapped in the Black Fire of a Veela
driven to protect his mate.

“Your fire will never harm him, Draco,” Severus had said. “Concentrate your focus on
your bond with Harry. Summon your inner Fire and walk through the wards. They will
let you through.

“The protective wards will do the same. Go to Harry, envelop him with your protective
Flames and carry him out. It is the only way.”

“Can I do the same for any other survivors?” Draco had asked. The answer had been a
sombre and heart-breaking no. Whatever potion had been released was clearly a danger
or the wards would not have activated. Draco would be fine because of the innate
protection offered by his Veela heritage; Harry would be fine because he could not have
been affected. The protective wards would not have activated had he been contaminated,
and Draco’s Black Fire would protect him from both the potion’s residue and any
remaining flames in the main lab.

Anyone else that survived the cleansing flames in the lab could be brought out and
treated, only after the wards lowered when the monitoring spells detected safe levels
within the air in the lab. It was a harsh and brutal thing, but this was an experimental
research lab that dealt with some highly toxic potions. The needs of the many were
outweighed by the needs of the few that might have survived.

Draco reached over and brushed his fingers gently along his mate’s cheek. Harry had
been near-hysterical as he beat on the protective wards with his fists, his anguished green
eyes clearly demonstrating his desperation to help the injured and dying that he had been
unable to reach. The heartbreak in his face when Draco had told him that no-one else
could be saved in the manner that he was going to be saved, had been the worst feeling
Draco had ever experienced.

It was the right thing to do – and Harry clearly understood that, because he did not protest
it – but he had robbed his mate of hope, even just for a moment, and that went against
everything the Veela stood for.

Another galling thing had been that he’d had to entrust Harry to the temporary care of the
healers (while under the watchful eyes of Severus and Fred) while he excused himself to
the nearest bathroom facilities and wanked himself to sexual release. It was the only way
to extinguish the Fire once it had been summoned – he cursed it as a drawback while
simultaneously blessing it being the thing he had been able to use to rescue Harry.

Piers had been quickly summoned to the infirmary in HQ as soon as Draco had become
more himself, and had assessed Harry carefully to confirm the Order healers’ findings,
especially when he tearfully mentioned that he had been just outside the wards and
Hermione had literally thrown him through them in the nick of time. All tests were
negative. He had suffered no exposure and neither he nor the babies had suffered any ill-
effect from Hermione’s heroic action.

Even so, Piers had insisted that Harry was to be sedated for the next forty-eight hours and
then returned to Harry and Draco’s next safe haven. This would be their last move until
after the children had been born. They were returning to Marianna D’Ascalon’s ancestral
home in France. It was now just less than two months until the babies were due. Veela
representatives from all over the world would soon have to begin making their way to
France for the Childbirth and Naming Ceremonies.

Draco’s thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a sombre Fred Weasley. “Is it time?”
asked Draco.

“It won’t be long, Draco. She’s asking for you. Charlie sent me to get you. I’ll watch over
Harry for you.”

Draco stood from his bedside vigil and leaned over to press a soft kiss to his mate’s lips
and whispered, “I have something I need to do, my heart, for both of us. I’ll be back in a
while. Fred is going to look after you for me.”

Surprising Fred, surprising himself, Draco pulled Fred into a quick one-armed manly hug
and then left the private room Harry was resting in.

Once in the hall, Draco sighed sadly and headed off in the direction of the intensive care
section of the infirmary. The death-watch for Hermione Granger was under way. It
should have been Harry at the bedside of one of his oldest friends, but Piers had been
adamant that Harry needed to be kept under sedation. He’d suffered trauma enough in the
past week.

Harry could not be with Hermione to say his goodbyes, so Draco would do it for him. His
mate’s friend deserved nothing less. She had shown her true character in admitting she
had been wrong and begging for the forgiveness that Harry had been desperate to give.
She had shown true courage and selflessness in her actions in the lab. Her thoughts had
not been for her own safety, they had been for Harry and his unborn children.

For the woman that had saved his mate and his children, Draco Malfoy would do
whatever he could – on both his own and Harry’s behalf – to make her passing as
comfortable as he possibly could.

The first person to greet him was in a way the hardest one of all, Charlie Weasley. The
older man’s eyes were red-rimmed from tears and lack of sleep. Draco pulled him into
the second hug that he had given that day and huskily choked out, “I’m sorry.”

He felt strong arms return the hug and Charlie said, “Don’t be. I’ll miss her for the rest of
my life, but if it wasn’t for the second chances you and Harry offered us all I would never
have had the chance to know her properly either.

“She gave her life to save her oldest friend. She is content with her actions and ready to
find peace.”

Charlie’s strong words reassured Draco that the older man would heal in time, though the
tears still occasionally winding their way down Charlie’s cheeks told him it would not be
a short healing process.

“Can I see her?”

“She’s been waiting for you, I think,” said Charlie. “She’s made her goodbyes to
everyone else.”

Draco nodded wordlessly to the other man and made his way through the open doorway
and into the private room in the intensive care wing of the infirmary.

Hermione Granger lay propped against a mountain of pillows and was covered by a
simple white cotton sheet. Most of her burned body was hidden from view but her bare
shoulders and neck were mute witness to the agony that she had endured. Her scalp was
blistered where her lustrous hair had burned away and she had to be in incredible pain,
even with the potent pain relieving potions she had been given, but she smiled a warm
welcome at Draco nonetheless.

“Is Harry all right?”

Her voice was hoarse still from all her screams, but her concern for Harry was clear.

Draco sat in the seat beside the bed and said, “He has been sedated under advice from
Piers, (our medi-wizard), but it is a precautionary measure only.
“Harry – and our unborn children – are all alive and well, thanks to you Hermione
Granger, and to your selfless courage.”

“Good,” she breathed out.

“I will never be able to thank you enough for your selflessness, Hermione, and I am glad
that you proved me wrong and Harry right.

“You are an exceptional witch, and losing you is going to hurt us all far more than I think
we can even now comprehend.

“Is there anything you want of me, Hermione, anything that I can do for you in place of
my mate who cannot be here to say goodbye to you?”

There was a long pause and Draco watched as Hermione clearly summoned the strength
to say her next words.

“Will you look after Harry? Will you love and protect him? Will you treat him the way
he deserves to be treated?”

Draco, gaze solemn, replied, “I will love and protect Harry for the rest of our lives, for
the rest of eternity if I can find a way.

“He is my light. He is my life. He and our children are the reason for my existence.”

Hermione’s eyes were peaceful as she whispered, “That is all I needed to know. Tell
Harry goodbye, please, and that I loved him like a brother.”

Draco stood and bowed slightly from the waist, saying, “My mate will hear your words,
you have my promise. Our children will grow up knowing that Harry was blessed to call
you friend.

“Thank you, Hermione Granger, for the lives of my mate and my children. It is a gift I
will never be able to repay.

“I’ll take my leave of you now and send you Charlie to be with you.”

“Goodbye, Draco.”

“Goodbye, Hermione.”

******************************************************************
By the time Harry had reached the end of his eighth month of pregnancy, his eyes had
lost the last vestiges of haunted grief at the loss of Hermione Granger from his life so
soon after he had got her back in it.
The Weasley brothers had played a great role in easing that grief, constantly refusing to
allow Harry to wallow in guilt for not acting quick enough to save himself so that
Hermione wouldn’t have had to do it for him, and reminding him that she would hex him
from one end of the room to the other if she’d been the one to catch him in the act of the
‘Noble Wallow’,

It had amused Draco and Severus no-end to find out that the Gryffindors had coined a
phrase back in their school days that encapsulated exactly how Harry tended to act if he
thought he could have saved someone if he’d only tried a little harder.

Another reason for Harry’s emergence from his grief was that Draco had shown him his
memories of his last meeting with Hermione and he had seen for himself how much she
loved him and wanted him to be happy.

The biggest reason of all, though, was his pregnancy and his bond with Draco. Harry
practically glowed with life nowadays and his body continued to grow as it nourished
their unborn children.

Harry’s pregnant belly was now huge, and he occasionally had to have a day of bed-rest,
but he suffered through that indignity with a glad heart. Their bedroom overlooked the
vast gardens of Marianna’s Unplottable ancestral home, and the view was magnificent.
Draco and Harry spent hours admiring the view, cuddling close on the bed and talking of
the imminent arrival of their children.

Piers and Marianna proved to be a godsend to Harry. If he had a moment of doubt about
something, they were there to calmly listen to his worry and to offer objective advice and
counsel. On one such occasion, Draco came across them afterwards. He was returning
from the kitchen and carrying the glass of milk that Harry had asked for, and he found
them in tears of laughter in the corridor down the hall from his and Harry’s bedroom.
They had obviously moved away so that Harry would not hear their laughter.

“What was it this time?” asked Draco, fighting a grin. Laughter was truly contagious.

“He… He…” gasped Marianna, before she dissolved into a fit of giggles again.

Piers took a deep breath and gasped out, “He wanted to know how he was supposed to
breastfeed three babies at the same time when he only had two breasts.”

Draco grinned and shook his head fondly at his mate’s innocent question. It was not an
unrealistic question for someone who didn’t know about male pregnancy, or didn’t know
about Veela-related pregnancy at all for that matter.

“I take it he knows now that a Veela newborn will rest content in their Veela parent’s
arms and wait for their turn to breastfeed, and that there are potions that can be given to
him to ensure that he produces sufficient breast milk – and that a simple charm can pump
the milk out of him into specially prepared baby bottles?”
“He knows now,” said Marianna, somewhat calmer after her giggling fit.

Draco smiled at them and said, “You have to love him more and more each day, don’t
you?”

There were indulgent grins on each of the older Veela’s faces so Draco knew they shared
his assessment.

Draco turned his gaze to Marianna and said, “How is Harry doing with the Childbirth
ceremony? Have you explained all his options to him?”

Marianna was suddenly far more serious when she said, “I have. Harry had me walk him
through all the options available to him and he questioned me thoroughly about all of
them.”

“Has he reached his decision? I told him I would abide whatever choice he made. He is
the one going through the birthing process; it is his right to choose how he wishes to do
so.”

Piers nodded approvingly and Marianna smiled at him. Draco was happy they were
happy that he had said as much to his mate, but that was beside the point. He was eager to
know Harry’s decision.

“Yes, he has. We were going to come looking for you in the kitchen when he sprang his
last unexpected question on us and it distracted us somewhat.

“Harry has chosen – as he did with your wedding – the most ancient and formal of the
ceremonies. He will be the first male to go through the full rites and ritual of a Childbirth
Gathering in over two hundred years.

“A representative from every Veela clan is to be invited to participate in the Gathering,

with Severus, Remus and Lionel, the only non-Veelas present, as was the case at the
wedding.”

Draco knew that there was a smile of joy on his face but he couldn’t help it. Yet again,
Harry was embracing the fullness of Draco’s Veela heritage, and honouring the mate
bond he shared with Draco.

“If you’ll excuse me, Draco, now that you have been made aware of your mate’s
decision, the High Council must be made aware also.

“The Clans that have not already sent representatives to France must be given the option
to do so. There hasn’t been a full Childbirth Gathering for a female in over fifty years;
there hasn’t been a Gathering for a male in living memory.
“This Gathering is going to be a defining event in the modern history of the Clans; no-
one will want to miss it.”

Draco excused himself to take Harry his milk. After Harry had had his drink, Draco fully
intended to kiss the stuffing out of his husband for making him so happy.

*********************************************************************
Three weeks later, lying in their huge four poster bed, Draco raised his eyes to look deep
into his mate’s loving green gaze. His mouth was still suckling at Harry’s right nipple, so
Draco used the growing mental bond he had with his mate.

“My heart, your milk is sweet.”

Harry’s delight was in his voice when he audibly replied, “Really? Are you sure?”

The natural development of their telepathic bond had apparently been accelerated by
Harry’s terror and desperation when trapped behind the protective wards in the potions
lab, and Piers had been astonished when his tests confirmed that it was not a fluke. The
bond would only grow stronger with time.

Still suckling the sweet liquid of his mate’s breast milk – something he could quickly
become addicted to the taste of – Draco mentally replied, “I’m sure. You taste
wonderful.”

Harry, his beautiful, sweet, Harry, blushed. Draco fell in love with his mate all over
again.

It was with profound reluctance that Draco eventually stopped suckling, and he kissed
Harry for a long, long moment before leaving the bed. With a loving caress to Harry’s
cheek he told his mate to get some sleep. That done, Draco pulled on a pair of silk
pyjamas and his robe and went in search of Piers.

The medi-wizard needed to be made aware of this most important development in

Harry’s pregnancy. Standard pregnancies normally took about a week to get from the
breast milk tasting sweet to the actual childbirth process. Nothing so far about Harry’s
pregnancy had been standard.

Harry could be expected to go into labour at any time now or in the next week.

Chapter 17: At Last... Claimed

************************************************************************
Wiping his hands after cleaning himself up, Harry Malfoy smiled as the realisation sank
in. It was starting.

He’d been both dreading and anticipating the bowel movement he had just had, in equal
measure. To date, it was definitely the most disgusting thing that had happened during the
pregnancy; it made his morning sickness seem a pleasant memory. Piers had been clinical
in his explanation for it, though. Pregnant males gave birth through their anus; there was
no other way for them to do so. Caesarean births were not recommended with Veela-
related pregnancies if they could be avoided.

Harry was a young, healthy male, and his body had thrived during his pregnancy. He
would give birth the natural way for the male mate of a Veela. His body’s innate magic
had already expanded his hip bones during his pregnancy, creating a safe and comfortable
environment for his and Draco’s unborn children.

Naturally, though, his body had to adapt to something it was not designed for. The
movement he had just had was his body’s way of emptying itself in preparation for the
births. From now until the children were born – however long that might take – Harry
would drink only water. His body, and his magic, would begin the process of
‘connecting’ his temporary womb to his anal canal. The children would turn themselves
into the prime position for their birth.

Standing in front of the bathroom sink, Harry rested a soothing and protective hand over
the huge bulge of his pregnant belly. Soon, my darlings, soon. At the same time, his eyes
were also drawn to the pronounced love-bite at the juncture of his neck and right
shoulder, Draco’s mark, the mark of his mate’s love and adoration. He’d been wearing a
similar mark somewhere on his body for weeks now, and would continue to do so until
both Draco and their children ceased suckling from his body.

Draco, tell the others it has started. I’ll need you in our room in a few minutes, my
love.

Harry clearly felt the love and excitement of his mate when Draco acknowledged his
message. Harry took one last look at himself in the mirror to ensure he was ready for
what was about to happen, and then he moved back out into the living room that he
shared with Draco, waiting on the arrival of the others.

In the living room, Harry’s head turned as he heard the door open and he stood, with one
hand resting on the back of the couch to steady him, as representatives from the
Gathering accompanied Draco and the others into the living room. They looked
resplendent in their formal robes of either silver or white, signifying if they were a
dominant lover in the pairing, or a mate.

Draco’s was the only silver ‘dominant’ robe to bear the black trimming of the dominant
partner of a pregnant mate, as was custom. Harry too, as custom dictated, was the only
mate wearing white trimmed with gold, the traditional colours of the submissive and
pregnant mate.

Also, as custom dictated, Harry alone was not wearing a classical formal robe. Instead,
the only piece of clothing he wore was a white velvet cloak edged with gold, and fastened
round his neck with a clasp bearing his mate’s clan mark, in this case the Malfoy coat of
arms.

Harry walked away from the support of the couch and stood in the centre of the room,
turning in a slow circle, allowing the representatives of the Gathering of the Clans to see
his nude, pregnant body. It was the custom at the start of a formal Childbirth Gathering,
that the body of the submissive mate about to give birth, be displayed to the
representatives of the Clans, a visible reminder of the loving bond that was shared
between the Veela and Veela’s Mated, and a testimony to the miracle of life about to be
gifted to the Clans by such a bond of love.

As was customary, there were ten Clan representatives with Draco – more would be
waiting outside – and they each approached Harry, bowed to him, and then each placed
their right hand on his belly and murmured the words of an ancient Veela blessing for a
peaceful birth.

Draco, as custom demanded, approached Harry last. Again, as per custom and tradition,
Draco dropped to his knees in front of Harry, bowing down even lower to gently kiss the
top of each of Harry’s bare feet, and then, he straightened up slightly to kiss the belly that
contained their unborn children. The message was simple and heartfelt, one that every
Veela and mate among the representatives understood. The Veela may, (more often than
not), be the dominant partner in the bedroom, but it was the Veela’s Mated that owned
the full measure of love and devotion of that Veela, and the dominant willingly would go
to their knees in front of their mate and their peers to demonstrate that fact.

Draco stood again and extended his arm to Harry with a smile, proudly escorting him out
of the living room and down the corridor, the Clan representatives following in their
wake. There were many more representatives in the corridor and stationed all along their
path throughout the house and into the gardens. Each representative bowed before them,
and reached out to place a hand on Harry’s belly to repeat the blessing.

The symbolism of the start of the Childbirth Ceremony part of the Gathering (which this
was) was potent. Harry had bared his body to show the bounty it contained, and the love
he had for his mate, as well as to show the trust they had in the Clans and their
representatives by allowing them that close to their unborn children. Draco had bowed
before him to show his love, and each blessing pressed to Harry’s pregnant stomach
functioned as a formal bond between Draco and Harry, and the Clan that the
representative belonged to.

The Clans were formally blessing and welcoming the new lives about to enter their
numbers with this Gathering.

Babies born during a full and formal Childbirth Gathering belonged to all of the Clans –
in later life, they could, and would, be welcomed into any Veela home of any of the Clans
represented at the Gathering, as an honoured Clan member and hearth-friend.
Once they reached the gardens, the ten original representatives accompanied them to a
secret walled garden in the D’Ascalon ancestral home. Inside the walled area was a
secretly secluded and deeply private part of the garden – every large Veela home and
garden had one – the Birthing Grove and Birthing Pool. (If a Veela famly did not have a
sufficiently large home to have their own Grove and Pool, the Elders of each Clan
allowed them access to their own family’s Grove and Pool – that was why Draco and
Harry were able to use Marianna’s when she offered it to them as the Senior Elder of the
Veela High Council).

There was a large summer house situated near the Birthing Pool, one that looked over the
small Grove of ancient trees that were also present, planted by Marianna’s ancestors
centuries before. There were seats enough to accommodate the ten, Piers, and the three
other medi-wizards that would be assisting him, Marianna, Lionel, Severus and Remus,
not to mention Draco and Harry.

Light refreshments were available for everyone except Harry, though there was a separate
jug of iced water set aside for his sole use. Quiet conversation was the order of business
until Harry felt the ancient call of the new lives about to come into the world stirring in
his blood, and the Birthing part of the ceremony started; no-one would leave the Grove
now until the Malfoy children were born.

It was a little after three hours before Harry gasped and cut-off his conversation with
Piers and Lionel, his hand automatically going to his stomach. Conversation in the
summer house stopped immediately. Almost in a daze, Harry reached up with the hand
not cradling his belly and unfastened the clasp at his neck, letting his cloak fall to the
floor of the summer house. He then turned and walked unsteadily out of the summer
house and towards the Grove, Draco and the medi-wizards following at a discreet
distance.

Harry vaguely realised that he was singing softly under his breath, no words, just the
sounds of joy, as he walked slowly through the welcoming trees of the Grove, the soft
green grass tickling his feet as he ungainly ambled along. Several times he stopped,
reaching out a steadying hand to the nearest tree, gasping softly and breathing as he had
been taught as his body adjusted itself in preparation for birth. On one particularly intense
occasion, he had to lean against a supporting tree with both hands, feeling liquid escaping
from his back passage and trickle down his legs… his waters had just broken.

Each contraction after that had a unique affect, one tied particularly to the fact that he
was a male about to give birth. Every contraction that he felt now triggered a sympathetic
expansion of his anus. When the entrance to his body had widened to its optimum size,
the first baby should move into his ‘temporary’ birth canal, ready to be brought into the
world. Harry’s contractions grew more pronounced and frequent and he gave up on his
happy humming and concentrated instead on his breathing.

One particularly powerful contraction had Harry sagging forward slightly, his hands
instinctively reaching up to latch on to a low hanging, sturdy branch, and that was when
the medi-wizards and Draco moved; that was what they had been waiting on.

Piers and his assistants moved forward, two of the assistants steadying Harry on either
side as Piers knelt down to gently stroke apart the cheeks of Harry’s arse and assess his
readiness for birthing. He was satisfied with what he saw because Harry heard him call
out for Draco to take his position. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw his mate
disrobing and handing his robe into the care of the third assistant medi-wizard that Piers
had selected.

The next thing he saw, was Draco moving to lie on the ground in front of Harry, before
shuffling backwards slightly, his passage made easier when Piers’ assistants gently held
Harry’s legs apart, allowing his husband to settle into position beneath him, Harry’s
pregnant body balanced above him.

Draco had two functions in what was to follow, he would reach out steadying hands to
support Harry’s legs, all the while murmuring comforting and encouraging words, and
the second was again part of the Gathering traditions. In the ancient past, the mates of a
Veela had simply balanced themselves and birthed the baby into the waiting hands of
their mate. Nowadays, there were always medi-wizards present to guide the baby out and
make sure it was okay, but the Veela would still assume this position, a symbolic
representation of love for their mate, and protection for their defenceless newborn
children.

Harry cried out as the most intense burst of pain he had ever felt radiated through his
body. Piers’ assistants steadied him, but it was the warmth and love he felt in his mate’s
steadying hands on his inner thighs that comforted Harry the most. The pain returned,
again and again, each pulse of pain growing progressively closer together.

Eventually, Piers gave the command that Harry had been desperate to hear, and told him
to push. Nothing in his life had ever prepared Harry for the feelings that followed. He
pushed and then took a breath as instructed, again, and again, and again. He’d never felt
so drained in his life, and yet, he had never felt so invigorated. All the while, he kept his
adoring gaze fixed on the proud and loving look his husband and mate was giving him as
he lay below him.

“One big push for me, Harry,” commanded Piers.

Wailing out his effort, Harry did as Piers told him, feeling his heart flip over in his chest
when Piers triumphantly said, “That’s the head out, Harry. Another big push for me…
and again…”

Harry sagged forward into the steadying hands supporting him, breathing heavily and
sighing at the light feeling in his body now that the first of their children had joined the
world, tears of joy rolling down his cheeks when he heard a healthy and loud baby’s cry.

“Congratulations, gentlemen, you have a healthy, baby boy.”

Harry smiled down to the astounded and ecstatically smiling face of his mate and said,
“Thank you, Draco, for making it possible for me to do this.”

“Thank you, my mate, for loving me and giving us this gift.”

While their sappy declarations had been going on, Piers had seen to the necessary cutting
of the umbilical cord and cleaning of the baby. The baby was dressed in one of the tiny
sleep-suits that had been carried in the waiting bag of the third assistant, and Harry was
gently encouraged to stand, allowing Draco to shift position to stand and lean against the
nearest tree.

Harry was then rested against Draco’s body, still upright, and with his open legs resting
on either side of the legs Draco braced in support, keeping his hips and lower body
spread out for birthing. Their baby son was handed into Harry’s cradling arms, and, on
instinct, Harry brought the baby close to his chest, gently guiding his mouth to his right
breast, sighing in completion when their little boy began to suckle his first little mouthful
of his daddy’s breast milk.

Draco’s arms wrapped around them both, protectively cradling them, making sure neither
of them could come to harm. Harry turned his head and looked up and back, smiling
ecstatically at Draco, happily returning the soft kiss that Draco pressed to his lips and
returning the words of love that Draco said to him, all the while smiling as their baby
suckled at his chest.

The baby’s eyes were blissfully shut, strangely reminiscent of the way Draco’s face had
looked when he suckled from Harry at night, and his little wisps of hair where the classic
Malfoy white-blond. Harry heard footsteps approaching and he looked over and smiled
an ecstatic smile at Severus and Remus, the clearly delighted new grandparents.

“What’s his name, Harry?” asked Remus, a beaming smile on his face.

Harry looked up at Draco, his expression telling his mate to say the words.

Tears of mingled joy and sorrow in his eyes, Draco smiled and said, “Say hello to your
grandson, gentlemen, Alexander Lucius Malfoy.”

Many would not understand the decision that Harry and Draco had made in giving their
son Lucius’ name as a middle name. They didn’t have to. Harry had been determined to
honour the brother so cruelly taken from Draco, and the son Lucius was so callously
robbed of. More to the point, he had insisted, (and he knew Draco was pleased with the
idea really), that their son be named for Lucius too. Draco did love his father. It was only
right that they kept the Malfoy family tradition alive of giving their eldest son the name
of his Malfoy grandfather.

Harry gave a gasp as he felt another familiar twinge of pain in his belly and reluctantly
allowed Alexander to be taken from them, handing him over into the care of Severus and
Remus. Piers and his assistants assisted Harry to rise and steady himself. Draco moved
from his leaning position on the tree and pressed a fervent kiss to Harry’s lips before
lying on the ground again, stretching his hands out to steady Harry again.

It was almost forty minutes this time before their second child graced the world with a
healthy cry of welcome, and Harry was shaking and exhausted by the end of it. Draco and
the third medi-wizard carried him over to the edge of the natural freshwater pool in the
Grove, and, after the medi-wizard had murmured some Warming Charms to heat the
water, Draco sank onto a man-made seat built into the side wall of the pool, pulling Harry
down to rest in the security of his arms again, with son number two suckling from
Harry’s left breast.

Severus stood cradling the sleeping Alexander close, Remus standing at his side, so Piers
asked for the name of their second son. There were more sad and poignant smiles, (this
time from Harry, Draco and their adoptive parents), when Harry softly said, “His name is
Sirius James Malfoy.”

By this time, Marianna, Lionel and the Clan representatives had come closer, all beaming
with joy and congratulating the two young mates on their beautiful children.

Harry gasped and groaned when a now very familiar pain made itself felt. Sirius was
handed off into the surprised but clearly capable hands of Lionel – Marianna standing
close at his side and ready to assist the necromancer if he needed it.

Piers quickly jumped into the pool and Draco shifted round so that Remus (quickly
disrobed) could take his place at his Amicus son’s back in order to steady him. Draco
moved round to the front of Harry so that he could more fully support Harry’s floating
legs on his shoulders, following Piers’ instructions on where to place his hands. In the
Birthing Pool in the grounds of the D’Ascalon ancestral home, Draco Malfoy (under the
guidance of their medi-wizard) personally delivered his and his mate’s last child. Harry
looked on in wonder at the sight.

“Draco?” queried Harry softly. “A girl, Harry, we have a beautiful baby girl,” was
Draco’s delighted reply.

Grinning excitedly, Harry turned to their waiting audience and announced (before anyone
had the chance to ask the question), “Hermione Lily Marianna Malfoy.” The astonished
and delighted smile on the face of Marianna D’Ascalon was priceless.

Harry let the strong arms of his husband and mate capture him up into the cradle of his
arms, and let Draco carry him out of the pool. Blankets were hurriedly placed against a
nearby tree and Draco and Harry leaned against it, Draco supporting Harry, while their
daughter took her turn feeding from her daddy. Once she had drunk her fill, the babies
were taken – under the watchful eyes of Severus, Remus and Marianna – by the assistant
medi-wizards and Clan representatives, to be measured, weighed, and wrapped up in
baby blankets and securely laid to sleep in the cradles that were the gifts of Marianna’s
clan. (The cradles would shortly be moved to Draco and Harry’s bedroom for the babies’
later use).

Only two people remained with Draco and Harry, and those were Piers and Lionel. As
per the terms of their agreement with the Necromancers, immediately after Harry
delivered the afterbirth, it was levitated into a jar that Lionel summoned out of a hidden
pocket in his formal robes, and securely sealed and hidden away. Lionel bowed his head
and thanked the young men for their willingness to honour their agreement. All knew
that, as soon as the scheduled shift change happened and Lionel’s relief arbiter of the
truce arrived, he would be on his way to the Necromancer High Council with the missing
ingredient they needed for the potion to summon Godric Gryffindor’s spirit, as had been
agreed all those months before.

Piers then had Harry shift position slightly so that he could assess any tearing to Harry’s
body. A few murmured charms and Piers said that Harry would be back to normal size
there by morning, though it would take at least a week for his hips to revert back to their
normal size. The charms would soothe any aches and pains and assist a very tired Harry
in making it through the rest of the Gathering.

When Harry was sufficiently rested, the Birthing party made their way back into the
house for the next part of the Childbirth Gathering; Severus carrying Alexander, Remus
carrying Sirius, and Marianna carrying Hermione in her arms. On entering the house,
Harry and Draco were each handed a fresh pair of formal robes. Draco’s remained silver
and black; Harry’s were now white and silver, indicating a submissive mate with
newborn children.

The now expanded Gathering party – all four hundred of them – made their way into the
huge banqueting hall of the D’Ascalon ancestral home. It was the same room that Harry
and Draco had been married in, and the stone altar that Harry had lain on for part of the
ceremony was back in place, the white velvets and linens it was draped in now had a
silver edge to them, to match Harry’s robes.

It was time for the ending of the Childbirth Ceremony and for the Naming Ceremony that
would formally end this Childbirth Gathering of the Veela clans.
**
Once the Malfoy party reached the front of the hall, Marianna carefully handed baby
Hermione over to the care of Piers and moved round the altar to stand and face the
assembled Gathering. She clapped her hands together and the assembled Veelas and
mates sat in their seats, leaving only the members of the Malfoy family, and those
holding the babies, standing.

“Assembled brothers and sisters, honoured guests,” said Marianna, “I give tidings of
great joy for you to take back to your Clans, three new lives are now added to our
number, the Malfoy children have been born this day.”
She then turned her attention to Piers and said, “Medi-wizard of record; was all done as
custom demands?”

Arms carefully cradling the youngest baby born that day, Piers said, “Yes, Senior Elder.”

He then turned to the assembled Gathering and said, “As primary medi-wizard assigned
to the care and support of Harry and Draco Malfoy, I hereby attest that Harry Malfoy,
Mated of Draco Malfoy, has this day, in the Sacred Birthing Grove and Pool of the
D’Ascalon family estate, given birth two baby sons and one baby daughter.

“Both the father and the newborns are in perfect health.”

An excited murmur went round the assembled guests of the Gathering and Marianna said,
“Draco Malfoy, as custom demands, please now introduce to the Clans each of your
children.”

Face still alight with happiness, Draco moved first to take his eldest son into his arms,
saying, “This is our firstborn son, Alexander Lucius Malfoy,” before pressing a soft kiss
to his blond head and carefully handing the sleeping Alexander back into Severus’ care.

Moving to Remus next, Draco carefully accepted Sirius into his arms, and, turning to
address the Gathering, Draco said, “This is our second-born son, Sirius James Malfoy.”
Draco gave their dark-haired son a kiss and handed him back to Remus to cradle close.

Lastly, he smiled at Piers and took his sleeping infant daughter into his arms and, with a
beaming smile apparent to all, Draco addressed the assembled guests in the hall, saying,
“And this, is our youngest child, our baby daughter Hermione Lily Marianna Malfoy.”
He kissed her blond wispy hair and carefully handed her back to Piers.

The happiness in the huge hall was almost a physical presence. Smile gracing her face,
Marianna turned to Harry and said, “Harry Malfoy, the entire Veela nation offers you its
blessing and congratulations on your successful delivery of yours and your mate’s
children.

“You and your mate have already selected a godparent for each of your children. Now, as
Clan tradition expects, would you please also select a Clan representative to teach your
children of our customs and traditions in their childhood.”

Harry regally inclined his head and slowly moved away from the group at the altar,
walking along and through the double-spaced aisles, meeting the gazes of the assembled
representatives of the Clans. This part of the Naming Ceremony of the Childbirth
Gathering was a major sign of trust and respect. He and Draco had been given a brief
opportunity to meet the assembled guests before the Gathering, now he had to simply
trust to his instincts as to whom he wanted teaching his children about the traditions of
the Clans. What was unknown to Harry was that his green eyes grew unfocussed as he
walked.
Stopping next to a grey-haired woman wearing the white of a mate, Harry smiled at her
and held out his hands to her. Eyes wide with surprise and joy, she held out her hands so
that Harry could clasp them between his own palms.

“Our eldest son Alexander will have Severus Snape for his godfather. Severus is an
upstanding and courageous wizard, one that is as close to my mate and I as if he were our
own flesh and blood.

“Will you consent to become part of Alexander’s life, and, when he is old enough, spend
time with him and teach him of the customs and traditions of the Clans, as falls upon both
Veelas and their mates?”

Beaming, the woman gladly assented to his request, her mate smiling proudly at her side.

Harry’s next words broke with normal custom then – only because there hadn’t been a
parental prophecy during any Naming Ceremonies outside the historic records of the
Clans – and he smiled gently at her and said, “I thank you. My heart tells me that
Alexander will be a mate to a Veela rather than a Veela himself. I think you will guide
him well.”

A hushed murmur ran through the hall. Harry Malfoy’s eyes were serene but the
expression buried deep within them was certainty.

Harry continued his wandering and eventually, near the back left of the hall, he came to a
stop in front of a young Veela woman, and he nodded formally both to her and to her
male mate sitting at her side.

“Madame, our middle child Sirius will have a strong yet gentle man acting as his
godfather, Remus Lupin. Like his own chosen mate Severus Snape, Remus is as close to
my mate and I as if we were his own sons, and we trust him implicitly.

“Will you consent to become part of Sirius’ life, and, when he is old enough, spend time
with him and teach him of the customs and traditions of the Clans, as falls upon both
Veelas and their mates?”

The young woman nodded her assent and Harry smiled, saying, “Good, for Sirius will
find his mate at a young age. I trust you to instruct him in the life of a Veela mating
young, as you yourself did.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the huge hall as Harry showed uncanny knowledge of
the young woman – one of the youngest mated Veela ever (she had found her mate when
she turned fifteen. It had nearly killed them both to wait until her sixteenth birthday and
making her of age to be able to claim her mate).

It took ten minutes of wandering before Harry finally stopped in front of a white-haired
old man bearing the silver robe edged with red of a Veela in mourning for a mate recently
deceased.

“Sir, your heart aches for the loss of the other half of your soul. I know you have
wondered why you have not been blessed with the peace of death so that you can join
your beloved mate. Our little daughter is the reason. Marianna D’Ascalon will be her
godmother, but, in spite of all that our dear friend Marianna can teach her, she will need
more than that.

“Will you consent to become part of Hermione’s life, and, when she is old enough, spend
time with her and teach her of the customs and traditions of the Clans, as falls upon both
Veelas and their mates?

“She will be a Veela, but she will not find a mate early in her life. She will be a Seer for
all the Clans and it will take a wizard from outside the Clans to be the other half of her
soul. She must learn all she can of the Clans and wizard-kind before that time.

“Will you be mentor and friend to her?”

The old man’s head bowed for a moment before he nodded his assent. When he put his
hands in Harry’s to seal the promise, his blue eyes glistened with tears for his lost mate,
but determination and joy for the new purpose that Harry offered him.

Harry returned to the front of the hall, standing against Draco’s strong body, leaning back
against the support that Draco offered him. He shook his head slowly and those watching
so his eyes grow more focussed again.

Face solemn, her eyes twinkling with joy and wonder, Marianna said, “All that is left for
me to do is ask this assembled Gathering if they formally accept the Malfoy children into
the care and shelter of the Clans, for now and forevermore?”

The “yes” that echoed round the hall was resounding.

**

Wearing soft cotton pyjama bottoms and a loose top that was easily lifted for when the
babies were nursing, Harry smiled at his husband after he doused the lights with a simple
spell, slipping into the bed beside him.

The babies had all been fed and were sleeping in the ornate cots set in place near Harry’s
side of the bed, each one heavily warded to prevent harm to the children; each one also
had monitoring charms in place to alert Harry and Draco if the babies needed anything.
Medical alert charms were also in place and keyed directly to Piers (who was in a room
down the hall with his lovely wife Maria).

“Are the messages away?” asked Harry.

“Severus and Remus have taken care of informing Fudge and the Order, our messages for
Voldemort and my father have been entrusted to the necromancer on duty.”

Harry smiled and said, “Then we’ve done all we can tonight.”

“Are you sore?” asked Draco with love and concern.

Harry smiled and shook his head, saying, “My body doesn’t quite feel like my own right
now, but I’m not that sore. Piers said that it wouldn’t take my magic long to stabilise my
body, it’ll just be a case of working me back into fighting shape.”

Draco, who had been leaning on his side, leaned over Harry to capture up his mouth into
a kiss that was eloquent in expressing all the feelings running through his husband just
then, which Harry understood completely – he felt the same.

“We’re daddies, Draco,” said Harry with wonder.

“I know,” said Draco, smiling dazedly, “I still can’t believe the day is finally here. You
gave us some beautiful babies, my heart.”

Harry grinned and said, “I think you helped a little, love.”

He groaned in anticipation when Draco’s gentle fingers stroked down the open V of his
loose top and gently stroked under the material at his full breasts. Draco’s face was
questioning and Harry smiled and said, “Drink, Draco. I want you to. I need you to.”

Draco gently stripped off his top and Harry lay back against the pillows, relaxing into the
sensation of Draco’s mouth suckling at first one breast and then the other. Looking down
and seeing Draco’s beloved head bowed over his breast as he suckled the same milk as
their children had done, was a profoundly moving feeling.

Harry let Draco drank his fill and then let Draco clean him up and dress him in his top
again. He curled willingly into Draco’s side, his chest resting on his husband’s muscled
and bare chest. “I love you, my mate.”

Draco’s voice was a deep rumble when he responded with, “I love you too, my mate.”

**

Voldemort took the sealed envelope that the necromancer arbiter handed to him, absently
calling for Lucius when the arbiter announced that he had a message for him as well.

Lucius came over from where he had been brooding in front of the fireplace, curiously
accepting the envelope handed to him.
Voldemort suspected what the envelope contained. The gasp that Lucius was unable to
stifle after opening his message, and the joy that the man tried to bury deep in his eyes
and behind an emotionless mask that Voldemort found it all too easy to read, told him he
was right in his suspicions.

“Everyone leave me, now,” he commanded suddenly. Everyone (except for the
necromancer) did as they were bid.

Sitting in the uncomfortable leather armchair that he favoured, Voldemort flipped open
the envelope, silently pleased to see that it was a personal letter from Draco Malfoy. The
young men that had asked for this truce were going above and beyond the letter of the
truce by informing him personally, they could have simply asked the necromancers to
pass on the news.

His eyebrow rose slightly when he realised that Harry Potter – no, Harry Malfoy – had
given birth to three children. He then paused reading when he vaguely remembered being
told about the nature of the pregnancy months ago, he had put the matter from his mind.

Harry and Draco Malfoy had surprised him. They had been very clever to engage the
support of the Necromancers, and wise to turn to the Veela Clans for assistance. He had
never been able to get a spy into the hierarchy of the Clans and he’d given up trying.
They either ended up sport for a group of enraged Veelas or they ended up mating to one
of the Clan members.

If that happened, the Dark Mark stopped working because the Mate bond overrode it, and
the ex-spy spent the rest of his or her life trying to make up for the evil that they had
done, under the watchful eyes of their loving mates and their wider clan. No evil-doing
was tolerated within the Clan network. Even the Veela mate would assist in meting out
punishment if their mate broke the strict codes of Clan conduct.

The name of the eldest child caught and held Voldemort’s attention. He knew about the
fate of the first Alexander Malfoy, no secret could be kept from him by his followers.
That Harry and Draco Malfoy had willingly given their eldest son Lucius’ name as his
middle name was cause for thought.

He had expected the old Lucius back when he was freed from Azkaban – if not even
more determined after having been imprisoned – but that was not Voldemort had
received. Voldemort had chalked up Lucius’ lacklustre enthusiasm for being put in
charge of planning the campaign for when the truce ended to his needing time to
reacclimatise to service of his Lord.

Lucius’ reaction to the message he had received from the two boys had been telling.
Lucius’ resolve in Voldemort’s cause was clearly waning, the question was what, if any,
action would he need to take about his supposed most loyal follower’s foundering
resolve?
 Chapter 18: At Last... Claimed

***
Feeling uneasy in the pit of his stomach, Harry Malfoy looked out of the window of the
bedroom he shared with his husband and sighed softly. He felt like there was an unseen
weight pressing down on him and he didn’t know why. As much as he could claim his
life to be – at least while living under the uneasy peace of the truce with Voldemort –
Harry had never felt happier.

The Order of the Phoenix and Britain’s Ministry of Magic were both well on the way to
being prepared to fight a war, the Veela clans were fully behind the side of the Light
(Draco and Harry leading the forces of the Light had made that choice inevitable for the
clans) and help was being offered on a near daily basis by other Ministries from around
Europe.

On a more personal front, Harry was completely head over heels in love with his husband
and fell more in love with Draco each and every day. The last few months had been a
blessing – for their lack of eventfulness if nothing else. Their days had been filled with an
odd mixture of getting Harry back into peak physical fitness (and beginning to hone his
magical reflexes back to full battle readiness) and in learning how to be the best fathers
they could be to their three gorgeous children. It was not just paternal pride that had
Harry thinking that either, their two little sons and their adorable little daughter were
ridiculously beautiful and surprisingly complacent. A fact that had often been remarked
on, especially considering the temperaments of the two fathers that had produced them!

The children were five months old now and had everyone that looked after them wrapped
around their tiny little fingers. Harry smiled as he brought to mind the memory of
Severus Snape humming lullabies under his breath as his pseudo father-in-law bottle fed
Alexander. It was something he had never thought he would witness but it had looked so
right to see it.

Harry blushed slightly as his thoughts turned from the hectic but happy days he shared
with Draco and turned to their nocturnal activities instead. In the months since he had
given birth, Harry and Draco had heeded every instruction that Piers had given them
about what they should and should not attempt in the way of intimacy, at least while
Harry’s body slowly returned to normal after his pregnancy. When they had been given
the go ahead to resume their normal range of bedroom activities Draco had spent the next
several nights worshipping every inch of him. Draco had managed to make Harry feel
even more cherished than during every loving moment they had shared before the babies
had been born; that had been something that Harry hadn’t thought possible.

Why then, did Harry have such an uneasy feeling in his heart? Why did he feel like he
was waiting for the metaphorical ‘other shoe’ to drop?

Sighing, Harry turned away from the window and headed off in the direction of the door,
his intended destination being the living room. The children were downstairs in the living
room with Draco and Mariana and he wanted to check and see how they were doing. It
would soon be time for them to be put down for their afternoon nap in the nursery and he
wanted to spend some time with them before that. Whatever storm was brewing was not
here yet… he wanted to spend some peaceful time with his children while he had the
chance.

He was three steps towards the bedroom door when he crumpled to his knees, his hands
pressed to his ears as he tried to muffle the tortured screams he could hear in his head.

Mr. Malfoy…? Lucius…?

At first, there was no coherent response just more jumbled feelings of pain and betrayal.
Slowly, almost painfully slowly, the pain eased and a confused voice echoed in his head.

Who…? Potter…?

For the moment, Harry ignored the overwhelming pain in the voice echoing in his head
and summoned his focus enough that he could call out to the only person that he should
be hearing in his head, mentally calling out Draco, I need you in the bedroom.
Something weird has happened.

Within minutes, Harry heard his husband’s feet pounding in the corridor as Draco ran
along the hall to reach their bedroom. Harry remained kneeling on the floor, head bowed.
He wasn’t moving until he had a husband there that he could lean on. One that could
hopefully explain why he was suddenly hearing his mate’s father in his head when it
should only be possible for him to hear his mate!

**

Later that evening, sitting in the living room of their current hideout and surrounded by
loudly argumentative voices, Harry gave thanks that their children could sleep through
anything. They were upstairs in the nursery with Maria – Piers’ wife – keeping watch
over them, leaving the rest of them in peace to have their strategy session. Not that much
strategising was going on right now, of course; rather forceful points of view being
loudly expressed and bandied about the room might be a more accurate way to describe
what was currently going on.

“Enough!”

Harry was rather gratified to see that his bellow seemed to have his desired effect as
everyone finally shut up enough that he could hear himself think.

“Can we move past the point of that ‘it is not possible for a human mate to hear the
thoughts of someone other than their Veela’s nonsense that some of you are still
spouting?
“I heard him. I want to know theories on how it might be possible and, more to the point,
why now and not before?”

Nobody got the chance to answer because Harry gave a muffled moan of distress and
slumped forward, pressing his hands to his ears again, whimpering softly. Draco’s arms
wrapped round him in an instant and Harry instinctively relaxed back against the strength
of his husband’s body, drawing strength from the love that Draco’s embrace wordlessly
conveyed.

There was absolute silence in the living room – a fact for which Harry was grateful. It
was an unnerving enough experience to be going through, without having to deal with a
hubbub of conversation going on around him at the same time. His previous experiences
of being in Voldemort’s head had been nothing like this.

The conversation he was having inside his head was freaking him out quite enough as it
was thank you very much.

How was he supposed to tell his mate that his father had been under virtual house arrest
since Voldemort had received the letters that they sent to them both, notifying their foe of
the birth of their children (as had been agreed in their truce)? How was he supposed to
tell his mate that his father had been kept alive only long enough to ensure that the
Malfoy vaults and family holdings could be liquidated and squirreled away into the care
of other more loyal followers?

How was he supposed to tell his mate that Lucius had renounced the cause of Voldemort
and declared himself in support of his son and his new mate? How was he supposed to
tell his mate that the screams he had been hearing on and off all afternoon were the
mental cries of Draco’s father being tortured by his Aunt Bellatrix?

How was he supposed to tell his mate that Lucius didn’t expect to survive another
twenty-four hours?

As soon as the latest batch of screams that had interrupted his internal conversation with
his father-in-law had stopped, Harry raised his bowed head. Uncaring of the tears
streaming down his face, Harry began to relate the financial information that Lucius was
imparting to him – the amounts and the educated guesses Lucius was giving as to who
had been given what Malfoy funds to hide was going to be beyond helpful in tracing ties
to Voldemort, along with the names of the current inner-circle of the Death Eaters as
many as Lucius could confirm from before his confinement. A couple of the names had
not been known and they would be hugely helpful in the strategy meetings of the weeks
ahead.

A proud man was dying by inches and fighting through his own suffering to make sure
that the Light side – and more importantly his son and his son’s mate – had any
information that could help them, the least he could do was endure the pain that Lucius
was suffering too.
They could worry later about how it was possible for him to be mentally connected to his
mate’s father. For now, they could use this unanticipated link to hear the intelligence that
Lucius was fighting to give them… and Harry could use this link to make sure that a
most unanticipated hero of the Light did not die alone.

Nobody – apart from the Malfoy children – slept that night. Everyone else kept vigil with
Draco and Harry Malfoy, watching in wonder and sorrow as the distraught young Veela
sought to comfort his suffering mate, all the while knowing that the only way his mate’s
suffering would finally ease would be when his father finally succumbed to his torture
and died.

Eighteen hours later, Harry Malfoy fainted away in his mate’s arms and Draco Malfoy let
out a sob of anguish as he cradled his mate close, his handsome face ravaged with grief.

Lucius Malfoy was dead… murdered by his sister-in-law under the command of Lord
Voldemort. A crime for which the Dark Lord could not be touched, at least not until the
truce ended.

**

After Draco and Harry Malfoy – and along with them their expanded group of family,
friends and allies – had finished the traditional five days of mourning, they were offered a
most intriguing opportunity by Lionel de Mort, acting upon instruction of the
Necromancer High Council.

If they were prepared to accept that Voldemort would also receive the same information,
the Necromancer High Council were prepared to reveal the main reason why they had
agreed to act as arbiters of the current truce.

Voldemort had not been made aware of what price Harry and Draco had paid to have the
necromancers guarantee the truce. What Draco and Harry would find out – along with
Voldemort – would be why the necromancers had so desperately wanted to make the
potion that would summon Godric Gryffindor’s spirit back to them, however briefly.

Apparently there was much more to the story than merely wanting to reclaim the
information the necromancers had lost and had been so desperate to restore, and this new
information would go a long way to explaining why Harry and Voldemort were linked,
and why even that link was not the end of the story. It explained why Harry was able to
connect with Lucius and what destiny held for him if he survived his conflict with
Voldemort.

Lionel did add that, as it affected Harry and Draco directly, they and two
companions/bodyguards of their own choosing would be taken to the secret location
where the Necromancer High Council sat in power. The council had agreed that they
could receive this information in person; Voldemort would only receive it second hand in
the form of a briefing from one of the three necromancers assigned to monitor his side of
the truce.

All Harry and Draco had to do was accept the terms that the necromancers set out for the
release of information they were now prepared to make.

Lionel told them they had twenty-four hours to make up their mind. If they chose not to
accept the offer at this time, the Necromancer High Council would not release the
information until the war was over – to whichever side emerged victorious.