Chapter Text
A flash of silvery floo powder ignited the flames. They burned a brilliant emerald, filling the room with an eerie hue. “Lucius Malfoy!” shouted Draco. He stood back a pace, joining Severus’s side and waited.
After what seemed like hours, Lucius’s head hovered within the flames. “This had better be good,” he drawled, looking sleepy.
“What are you up to now? Who brewed the potion?” questioned Snape. He was visibly irritated. “I can only assume Miss Weasley half-managed to throw off the Unforgivable due to suffering from the healing curse and that is why we have averted you fools once more. Now tell me who’s behind this.”
Lucius grinned impishly. “They’re using the Mudblood to try and drag him out now, eh? Bloody fools. They should have asked me; I would have used her Auror husband. He’s much stronger.”
“Father,” said Draco. He appeared as anxious and worn out as Harry had while trying to escape. “Why can’t you just swallow your pride and help us out here? Why are you doing this?”
The smirk on the elder Malfoy’s face fell flat. He looked hurt. “No, no,” he said softly. “I’m not doing it. I told you before; I am on your side. Umbridge and that Dark Lord reject are your culprits. He’s offered her a lot of gold. I only want that baby.”
“Him again,” said Snape, a growl steadily rising from his throat. “Where did you hear this?”
“In Azkaban. They brought in Mulcibur not too long ago. He told me the Longbottom spawn offered the Minister a million Galleons for Potter’s kidnapping. He also ordered Bellatrix to the villa to try and kidnap him there. And speaking of which…Where is she?”
Ignoring the question, Snape clenched his teeth. “We need to put an end to him once and for all.”
Lucius gave him a shrug. “I agree.”
Severus’s breath hitched and his face drained in colour, so shocked at the lack of interest in their peril. “Lucius, help us out. I risked my life for your son once…you owe me.”
“I can only tell you this, and it is no easy thing,” he said in solemn, “Mulcibur hinted at something else that greatly disturbed me. He said that the child, Marvolo, was given something to help him along with his journey. I am afraid it means-”
“Yes, I know,” said Snape. “There is nothing I can do about that. Marvolo will mature to the age of seventeen within the month.”
Draco blanched. “What?!”
Snape shook him off. “Lucius, it is imperative that you try and get in communication with the Weasleys. I must seal this connection and I do not know when it will be reopened. Whatever you find out, send it by owl.”
Giving him a nod and Draco a brief smile, Lucius vanished.
Heaving in a deep breath, Draco opened the bedroom door and stepped inside. Harry was not where he left him. His heart stuck in his throat as he scanned the room.
“I’m down here, troll.”
Draco leapt on the bed and looked over the side. Harry glared up at him from the floor. His feet were propped up on the wall separating their room from the children’s. “Were you trying to wake the children up to help you?”
“Maybe,” Harry said, giving it once last thrusting kick. “Bloody old houses and their thick walls.” He rolled onto his side, letting the blood flow return to his arms. “Are you going to sit there all night?”
“Maybe,” he said in return, leering at him.
Harry gasped. “But Hermione and Ron-”
“We’ve got someone looking into their whereabouts. You know damn well what will happen if I let you leave.” He got down and hefted Harry up, then shoved him onto the bed.
“You know there’s no way in hell I can sleep right now. Draco, let me go!”
Against his better judgement to strangle the begging pleas out of the man, Draco, instead, leaned up against him and covered his mouth with his own. It was as if he had forgotten the taste, the feel of their tongues sweeping along the other. Harry’s head was thrust back into a pillow under the bruising pressure of Draco’s lips and rough hands. The intense frustration from the unknown status of his two most beloved friends could hardly compel him to remain still. He groaned beneath him in desperate attempt to let him feel his pain. “No way I’ll let you leave,” whispered Draco against his mouth. His voice was harsh, husky and completely fucking sexed. “No. Bloody. Way.”
With a defeated sob, Harry tipped his head and pressed his lips against Draco’s. Tremendous guilt seeped from his pores, but the undeniable thirst to touch this man overpowered him. Running off blindly would be suicide. Perhaps one half of the curse had been completed but the other had full month of gestation left. If he got hurt and lost the baby - he and Draco would still die.
Draco had his jeans off of his hips and his shirt torn open before he fumbled with the draw tie of his own dressing gown. He curled into him, pressing his body against Harry’s skin. No pain, no horror to endure any longer. He could touch Harry freely. Wand in hand, he cast a counter-spell to dissipate the rope.
Harry wrapped his arms around his neck. The kiss deepened as he shimmied out of the remnants of his clothes. “Love you so much,” he breathed through bloodied lips, tugging the silk strands of hair cascading through his fingers.
“C’mere, you,” purred Draco, pulling him into his arms. He nudged his knee between Harry’s thighs, locking their hips. Their cocks were trapped between them, rubbing deliciously together with each movement. Harry sucked at his throat, tonguing his pulse point in lingering laps. Their legs twined, their hands roamed over the other’s chests, and they arched in unspeakable ecstasy. Draco grabbed a shock of dark messy hair, wrenching Harry’s head back. “Fucking love you, Potter,” he hissed, and dipped his tongue in his mouth. He mewed in sweet response to Harry’s fingers, feeling them wrap so delicately around his virile manhood.
“Fucking love this, Malfoy,” growled Harry, giving Draco a shove back into the bedding. “~This is mine.~” Draco was not sure what he had said, the words slipped from his tongue in a hiss but it sounded wonderful, whatever it meant. What he had dreamt of, the moment their intimacy could stand without fear of pain, had finally arrived. Harry kissed the head of his cock and ran his thumb slowly up the base. His eyes were locked with Draco’s. He kissed it again; his lips parting over the skin, his tongue resting on his lip. He ran the tip of it along the engorged length in thick strokes, languishing at the euphoric expression on Draco’s face. “Lie back,” he whispered, giving the head a swift slicking lap as Draco’s mouth opened to speak.
“Oh Merlin, yeah, okay,” he moaned through panting breaths. He was on his elbows with his head lolled back. He parted his thighs as Harry leaned in, trapping the head of his prick between his lips.
The sun began to rise. Harry sat up abruptly and looked to his side. Draco was fast asleep with his leg draped over his bare hip. The curse was still nullified. It hadn’t been a dream. Careful not to wake him, he slid the leg downward until it came in contact with the mattress. He just needed to try the floo network to be sure Hermione and Ron were all right. The fireplace was bricked up in their room. He silently slipped from the bed and tiptoed to the door. He turned the knob, but the door would not open.
“It’s been sealed, Harry, come back to bed,” groaned Draco.
“But you can open it, right?”
“Not for you, come back to bed.”
Harry made a face and kicked the wall. “How are we supposed to know anything? What if I need to use the loo? I want to hold Marvolo! Open the damn door!”
“I’m leaving soon. I need you to shut the fuck up and care for the children while we’re gone.” Draco was already standing, pulling a shirt on. “We’re gonna off that motherfucker, Morfin. Snape thinks he knows where he is. Look, Harry,” he said pulling the dark haired man away from the door.
Harry looked at him in confusion. “Off Morfin? No, there’s no need-”
“If anything happens to us,” Draco continued, lost in a sadness Harry hadn’t noticed until then. “Promise me you’ll take care of my daughter. My father can’t do it. He wouldn’t raise her like you would.”
“Don’t say that,” Harry said, looking grim as if he’d never thought so intimately about death before, no matter how close he’d come to it at any time. This time it would truly mean something. He knew they were using Hermione again as a sort of bait to unearth them, and it hurt so deeply to think that her life seemed so unimportant to a few when it meant everything to him. It brought tears to his eyes thinking of the horrors she had suffered and would always suffer because of him. She had never hurt a fly but had been hurt endlessly over blood status. And she was pregnant and surely thinking about only that as her life dangled by a thread - because of him - again.
And now Draco was entrusting him with the one thing in the world that kept him human. He was willing to die to keep her alive, to keep him alive. With his back turned to him to lace his shoe, Harry frowned and shook his head ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, I can’t let you do this,” he said under his breath, his mind set in stone and his hand in the air to put a stop to this madness once and for all.
After kissing and hugging Marvolo and Narcissa without the counter-curse or a barrier of clothing between them, Harry stepped out onto the street inhaling a shaky breath, looking up to the cloudy sky while he searched for the words to call her. “Are you out there, Veela?” he said softly. “Er, Matilda, I’m here.” This wasn’t the first time he felt her presence, there was a strong aura resonating from her like a heat signature pulsing through the air in search of him. He had felt it at the villa when the Death Eater died and again in the garden of 12 Grimmauld Place. He had confirmed it through Draco only minutes before.
“Don’ try to talk me out of zis,” she said to him, suddenly behind him, peering over his shoulder to see his face up close. “’arry Potter, you knew I was out ‘ere, why deed you come out?”
“Because I read his thoughts on you just now.” Without turning around, Harry stood strongly in her presence hoping he hadn’t made a huge mistake. “No matter what he’s told me about you, I know you aren’t the monster he claims you to be. He doesn’t believe it, either, he just hates you. I’ve known true monsters... If you are in any way related to Cissy you can’t possibly be one of them.”
The Veela cringed inwardly, making fists with her hands to endure the growing ache within her soul. “Narcizza is a mizdake.”
Harry flinched at the words, so painful. Why was everyone he loved so rejected. It made no sense to him at all. “You’re wrong. Let me keep her. You’ll get your money, but please let me keep her.”
“Keep her? You’d do that?” And the Veela’s eyes grew large, looking off as she thought on it for a moment. Maybe she did not truly wish death upon that tainted child. She crossed her arms. “You really want her? I would only consider zis if you geeve me Draco.”
Harry shook his head. “I’m keeping him, too.” He prayed that she could not detect magic as he began to plunder her mind. Her brain-waves were so vastly different than Draco’s; jumbled, going in and out of focus, almost like a predatory animal’s would be during a hunt. He made a laughing sound in his throat as he turned the page of her mind and discovered the source of her fury, an ire that had grown strong for the white haired wizard she was married to.
There was another thing clinging to her thoughts. A murder she had committed. Her only murder as of yet, but she liked it. She thought on it often and Harry could understand why. “Tell me,” he said, finally turning to meet her face to face. His breath hitched. Her beauty stunned him briefly. He began rubbing his chin with a little mischievous grin playing on his lips as he looked her over. She was visually breathtaking standing there in the street in front of him, contrasting with the decrepit house she was framed in. “It was you out there that night, wasn’t it? You were at our door, you killed her.”
Matilda instantly smiled. “Ze weetch?”
“Mhmm,” Harry said. “Did you kill her for me?”
Her eyes flitted up and to the side as she recalled her encounter with Bellatrix. She began to giggle. The smile grew large and unabashedly flooded with memorable laughter. She gave him a gleeful nod. “She peezzed me off.” She covered her mouth to regain control before running her fingers through her hair and wagging them at Harry. “I deed eet a little for you. Bad enough you ‘ave to live wiff ‘im, you don’t need to be worrying about ‘er, too.” He was more fascinating than she’d even hoped. So different than her husband. “You are so deefrent from ‘im.”
Harry smiled. “Thank you. I mean that.”
Her eyes grew narrow, her head inclined in confusion. “So very deeffrent from ‘im. Why do you love ‘im?”
“Draco?” He returned her somewhat confused posture but smiled like a lovesick teenager. It was very easy to smile when he thought about Draco. “He’s got something. I don’t think even he knows it yet, but he’s pretty special. Look, I will take them both far away. You will never see them again, never have to think of them again. I promise you this.”
As if trying to save him from some terrible mistake he was surely making, she reached out to touch him, to pull him away from the train wreck he was about to become a victim of. “’e is a ‘orrible person. I don’ care if Narcizza is ‘alf Veela, I care zat she is ‘alf ‘im. When Narcizza was born like ‘im it devazdated me.”
He chuckled unconsciously. “And I can understand that. But I promise you she’s not like him at all. She is precious, the sweetest most innocent little angel I’ve ever met. I’m humbled by her.” He began to choke up thinking about losing her in any way. “I will raise her properly. I won’t let him influence her to be like him in any way, let me keep her. I’ll give you anything you want.”
“What if I agree to zis? I geet loads of money and zey dizappear. You want zomzing elze. What do you want from me?”
He reached out to her, taking the hand she had extended to him. “Your help.”
“Malfoy, do you have him restra- oh, Mordred.” Severus Snape entered the bedroom with a curt wave of his wand and a surely look of disappointment, dissipating the bonds securing Draco to his bed. The blond sat up, spitting the balled up sock out of his mouth and averting his former potions master’s deplorable gaze. “How did he get out?”
“As if this isn’t embarrassing enough. He used the Imperius Curse on me, Sev,” he huffed as he looked around the floor for his shoes. “He’s been gone for a while.” One hit him in the head.
“You knew he’d attempt this. Don’t bother getting dressed, you can’t leave now.”
“I’ll take the children to my father’s. I can’t sit here doing nothing knowing he’s out there. If he dies I die, I’m coming,” he said, ignoring Snape’s warning.
Snape thought on it. “Do hurry up.”
Draco gave him a nod. “I’m on it.”
Matilda rapped her knuckles on the door she and Harry stood in front of. Her other hand was fisted in his hair to keep him from escaping. “Open up, Minizder,” she shouted, growing extremely annoyed at having to wait. “’urry up, zomeone might zee us.”
“I’m coming!” Delores Umbridge threw the door open and squealed. She grabbed the front of Potter’s shirt and wrenched him into the room. “Close the door, quickly!” Her hand replaced the Veela’s, twisting in the mass of wild hair. She yanked his head down to meet her gaze. His teeth were bared, clenched tight over the silk scarf threaded between them. He growled at her. She scanned over him, touched his face, checked his pupils, made sure his hands were bound firmly behind his back, then shoved him into a chair. “He looks healthy, unharmed, no marks- good.” She turned to the Veela. “Watch him, I’ll alert all of my Aurors that Malfoy will be coming to look for him soon.”
Matilda shrugged. “’Urry up, I want to leave ‘ere as zoon as pozzible.” She looked down at Harry as the squat woman walked away, scrunching her nose. “It zmells like cats in ‘ere.”
Harry agreed.
Umbridge returned, yanking Harry out of the chair. “Your admirer is on his way to get you. I’m afraid this will be the last time we see one another.”
“’Ake ‘is ot,” he tried to say to Matilda, who, in turn reached up and yanked the scarf out of his mouth. “Thank you.” He turned to look at Umbridge. “Oh, you mean Lord Voldemort’s son who plans on restoring his life as soon as he gets his hands on me? That admirer?”
Delores paled. She released him and backed into her sitting room with her hands to her mouth. “No, that’s not possible.”
“There you are.” Everyone turned to face the man standing in the threshold of the room. He was very tall with thick black hair and a strikingly handsome face. His wand was out, pointed at Harry. “You coming willingly or do I need to make you?”
“Willingly,” he replied, stepping in front of Matilda. “Please, Morfin, don’t harm this beautiful Veela I have with me here.”
“A Veela,” Morfin repeated, suddenly surprised and titillated by the woman on the other side of the room. He began moving, taking hastened steps to look at her. His arms were shaking, fists clutched in his excitement. “I’ve been reading up on them ever since the Minister said she had one hunting you, Harry. I’ve never seen one up close before.”
Harry stood firmly between him and her, halting the man’s approach. “I mean it, she’s a protector of Marvolo’s. Do not hurt her.”
“Tell the truth,” the other wizard said with a furrowed brow, briefly glancing at him. His eyes snapped back to Matilda.
Harry stuck his head back in front of his face. “She will be while I’m gone.”
“Alright,” Morfin said, believing him. He shoved him aside, into Umbridge’s arms. “I just want to look at her. They’re supposed to be unnaturally beautiful. Oh, yes, so pretty. I’ve read up on everything I could find about them. You know they can enthral you?”
“Yez, come to me,” she said, and her hair began cascading in waves around her face with no wind to speak of. She took his hands and brought them around her, embracing the man. “I need your ‘elp, beautiful man,” she said seductively. She petted his hair while he basked in her incendiary aura.
“Anything,” he whispered against her breast. His eyes fluttered closed. Never once had he felt the warmth of another person so closely, so intimately before.
“Tell me ‘ow to zdop Marvolo’s age progrezzion, pleaze,” she said as sadly as possible.
“Oh, no, don’t cry, of course I’ll tell you,” he sighed into her dress, hoping he could cheer her up. “There is a potion that will negate the progression. The one he took was merely an augmented ageing potion infused with my master’s genetics, with the reversal removed.”
“And what about zee progrezzion itzelf? Can zat be reverzed?”
“Oh yes, I invented it myself. I’m quite adept with herbs. The progression will be reversed when it’s negated,” he replied through his nuzzling. “It’s instant. It’s very simple.”
Harry tipped his head silently. Matilda nodded. “Do you ‘ave zis potion in your zdores?”
“I do, let me take you there,” he said, wrapping his arms tighter around her, breathing in her wonderful scent.
“That’s not necessary, Morfin,” Harry said, giving Matilda another look. She pulled the man’s arms from around her, breaking their contact. Her dancing hair fell to her shoulders. Harry jerked out of Umbridge’s grasp and stepped between them. “We’re done here. Take me home now.”
“One more zing,” she said, her hair was fluttering again. She leaned into Harry’s back, resting her arms over his shoulders to get closer to the other man. She nuzzled into her hostage’s wild mane. “Ooh, I like zis magical creature. Maybe I beguile ‘im when zis is over,” She whispered. “Beautiful man,” she said, now addressing Morfin. She jerked her head toward Umbridge while she adjusted her scarf to fit snuggly back between Harry’s teeth. She held up a phial of swirling silver smoke in one hand and The Chosen One’s chin in the other. “I want what you promized zat woman zere for zis man ‘ere.”
Morfin was captivated by the Veela once more, his eyes drifting side by side between her and Harry. His dreams had finally come true, his master would be so proud of him and finally accept him as his son. He smiled as brightly as any one person could while his head bobbled up and down in childish enthusiasm. “Of course, the one million galleons are yours.” He took the phial from her, still nodding and smiling as he tore Harry from her grasp. He pointed his wand at Umbridge, his eyes as wide as his smile. “Would you like me to kill her, too? I’ll do it for you. Anything!”
Delores gasped.
She motioned to him to lower his wand. “No, I zink ze life she’ll zuffer in prizon will be deliciouz enough. Be careful with ‘arry, Morfin. I’ll be zere zoon to check in on you.”
Morfin was blushing pink. He wrapped his arm tighter around Harry’s middle, hugging them together. “Oh, yes, I’m just keeping him safe for my master’s return. I’d never hurt him. I’ll see you soon!”
While the deranged wizard dragged Harry over to the fireplace, the Veela raised her palm into the air. A ball of flickering orange fire appeared above it. She smiled at the Minister and pointed to the chair Harry had recently vacated. “Zit, geet comfortable while we wait for my ‘uzband to arrive.”
“Look, you’ve got to listen to me. If I’m not released the Dark Lord will return! I swear it, we have to save him!”
“Ah!” Matilda rose up from the sofa she was resting on, eyeing Draco, Snape and the Aurors shoving them into Umbridge’s sitting room. Her instinct to snap her husband’s neck grew considerably, fuelled by the delicious look of stone-cold fear he was giving back to her. She tamped it down and smiled. “Draco Malfoy.”
“Oh hell, oh shite,” he mumbled through ragged breaths. Snape was looking between the two and at the ball of fire she was balancing. “Maltilda, I… Oh shite.”
“Kill her!” Umbridge shouted, throwing herself behind her chair. Both Aurors had their wands drawn and pointed at her.
“Your wands,” she said softly, her hair gliding so beautifully around to frame her lovely face once more. “Geeve zem to zese two and floo away.” She dissipated the fire and pointed to her husband and Snape. With great hesitation, both men handed their wands over. She stepped into the centre of the room, gesturing for the arrestees to come to her. She looked at Snape while she jerked a thumb at Umbridge’s chair. “Geet za location of za Weazleys out of ‘er.” She then turned to Draco, grabbing him up by the shirt. “Wipe zat look off your face, drunk. I know where ‘arry Potter is - You need to take me to ‘im.”
Landing hard through a Side-Along Apparition, Draco shrugged off his wife’s hand with a chilly shudder. “Stop touching me. How did you know to come here?”
“I’ve been following you and ‘im for a while now. ‘e reeks of you. Alzo, ‘e told me Morfin would bring ‘im ‘ere.” They both looked around the area. They were standing in the centre of a deserted village. “Up zere,” Matilda said, smacking her husband’s arm very hard to get his attention.
Draco looked up, rubbing the spot as his eyes locked onto an eerie looking mansion built into the top of a hill. For a moment his legs refused to listen. Matilda sneered and shoved him onward. “Not so rough, bint. Don’t forget I have a wand.”
“Juzt keep moving, or I zet you on fire.”
“There are heavy wards here,” Draco murmured, testing the strength with a pebble and a Stinging Jinx.
“Malfoy.” Draco and Matilda whirled around, eyeing Ron approaching them. He waved to them, mostly to Matilda. “Hello there,” he said absently before shaking the aura of attraction out of his mind. “I know some of these wards but it’s going to take a while to strip them off.”
“No need,” Matilda said, directing her attention to the house on top of the hill. “Ze myzdical creature inzide is very mentally immature and unzdable, ‘ighly zuzceptible to my charms. I will zimply ask ‘im to remove ze wards.”
Draco scowled despite the wonderful news. “Why are you helping us? What is this about, harpy?”
“This your wife, Malfoy?” Ron asked, looking her up and down. It hit him them, what she meant about Morfin. “That’s right! Morfin’s technically a five year old boy in an eighteen year old teenager’s body, not to mention the neurological issues he has,” he cried. “And you being a Veela… He won’t be able to resist you, I’m guessing. Blimey!”
“I ‘ave my reazons,” she hissed at Draco while smiling at Ron for understanding her. “’Arry will raise Narcizza to not be like you, you dizgusting drunk.” Wings began sprouting from her shoulders. Her face was twisted in anger. She snarled and shook her head. “Zdop peezzing me off, I need to zday preety for ze beautiful man.”
“Right,” Ron mumbled in awe. He gave Draco a rough shove. “Shut your mouth, ferret.” He gestured to Matilda. “I’ll keep him in line, as you were.”
“Zank you, Mr Weazley,” she replied, returning her concentration on the man inside the mansion.
Ron yanked Draco aside. “Ugh, as much as I hate this you’ve got to stick really close to me under here.” He unravelled Harry’s old Invisibility Cloak. It was tattered, the edges charred but it was intact. It had been Harry’s and Snape’s means of escape from Riddle House the first time and would now serve to aid in the former Gryffindor’s second removal. “We’ve all got to be very careful. I have no idea who else resides there. Morfin’s probably not alone.”
“Stop fussing, Harry, this won’t hurt a bit.”
“I’m not going to tell you about her if you don’t at least let me sit up.”
“Are you going to drink it, or not?”
“No, I’m not.”
“What’s her name?”
“Make him drink it.”
“Fine. -Imperio-! Drink it.”
Thorfinn Rowle gritted his teeth and crossed the room. “He’s fighting it. I can see it. Hit him!”
Morfin Longbottom swept his wand up, pointing it at the Death Eater. “You’re not supposed to touch him. Only I can touch him, and I’m certainly not allowed to hit him. Sit down, Rowle.” He returned his attention to Harry, who was strapped to a hospital-like bed. He was fighting desperately to throw off the curse. “Let it go, Harry. Relax now, let it happen.”
Walden Macnair shook the bed in an attempt to jar Harry into losing control.
“Back off,” Morfin said, ending the curse. “It’s hurting him. Let me try another way. -Stupify-! -Imperio-! Got him. Wake up, Harry. Put your head up. Okay, drink it.”
Rowle nudged the boy. “Well, what’s it telling you?”
Morfin threw a hand up while he scanned over the words forming in front of his eyes. “Oh no, this is not right. He’s still far too weak to return the curse properly. Everything is off the charts here. That thing is sucking his life away and killing him. The Healing Curse is keeping him alive but he’d be near death without it. Look at me, Harry. How much longer does this thing need to come out alive?”
“A month,” he said, letting the sweet floating sensation wash his aches and sadness from his mind.
“It’s reporting it should be born now.” Morfin shook his head. “That won’t do. Although you are stronger now, the Healing Curse is stretched beyond its limit. That thing has suspended it. It’s in stasis. If you were to so much as catch a cold you would die within a few days. We’ve got to remove it.”
“No,” he said, now fighting the curse with everything he had. Morfin cancelled it. Harry took several deep breaths to calm himself. “That’ll outright kill me. I made an Unbreakable Vow to have this, it must live.”
“Why would you do such a thing? Our master would never have allowed this.” Morfin was fretting, shaking his hands with worry. “How did you get so worn down? Why would you allow someone else to touch you?”
Macnair and Rowle stood up as the piercing sound of a loud hiss filled the room. “Someone’s at the wards.”
“…you just need to open ze wardz. Zere’s nothing to be ashamed of if you do, I’m ‘ere to ‘elp. ‘E is expecting me.” Matilda was swaying her hips, her eyes were closed, her arms extended in front of her in slow beckoning movement. Her moon-bright skin glowed. Her white-gold hair danced in slow motion. She had to go all in on these two Death Eaters. They were resistant to her charms and weren’t budging without it.
“…I…I’m not supposed to.”
“Pleaze, ‘arry needz me.” She began to hum light wispy notes, letting them drift through the air, carried by her aura. Ron was plugging his ears under the cloak.
“He is sick… Maybe we should let her in. The Dark Lord will kill us if he dies.”
“Yez, I can ‘elp ‘im.” The Death Eater held his wand up, dissipating the wards. Matilda stepped over the barrier, her hair still in motion, her skin still aglow. She brought her hand to her lips, kissing the tips of her fingers. She flicked the kiss at the ground and pointed to the rapidly growing fairy circle she’d just created. “Come to me, dance for me,” she commanded through song, her hand waving languidly over the fungi. Rowle and Macnair leaped from their brooms and ran to the circle to dance. “Who elze is inzide?” she asked.
“Only Morfin and Potter. He’s sick, Morfin’s going to remove that foetus to save him.”
Draco flinched beneath the Invisibility Cloak. Ron circled his waist. “Let’s get in there and stop him, mate. She’ll take care of these two.”
“Move, Harry. I don’t want to hurt you.” Morfin was pulling Harry along with an arm around his waist. “That Veela enthralled me earlier at the Minister’s home. I should have brought Trevor with me. I told you they can do that to men. Why didn’t you stop her?”
Harry made a coughing noise and shook his head.
Morfin reached up and touched his face. “Oh, that’s right. Anyway, I fear that may be her at the barrier. We need to get to the tomb and open it, that’s my number one priority. I reckon she may try to hypnotise me again for that money. I’m going to give her the money, I told her I would.”
They moved down the hill behind Riddle House. Harry could see the graveyard in the distance resting in the valley at the bottom of the hill. The sun had nearly set, casting ominous shadows within its grounds, making it appear even creepier than he remembered it back when he was a boy and had to face Lord Voldemort one on one. The young spawn could feel him tensing up and pressing his heels into the earth to slow their pacing. “Why are you making this difficult? We could have been there by now. Please stop dragging your feet, Harry.”
As they neared the bottom of the hill Morfin put his back to the stone wall separating them from Little Hangelton’s graveyard. He could feel his captive’s heart beating so rapidly under his ribcage, it was thrilling. His arms flapped like wings to expel his pent up energies. “I know exactly how you feel, Harry. I feel like I could spit fire right now. Our master will be back with us soon. This time he’ll talk to me and let me be his son. I’m going to make him so proud.”
Harry was shaking like a leaf, praying it was Draco, Ron or that Veela that had breeched the wards and would come down the hill at any moment and stop Morfin from dragging him into that mausoleum. His ill heath was returning. He broke out in a sweat.
“Got to catch my breath. You’re so much stronger than I’d imagined. How is Marvolo doing? I haven’t seen him since I was in Mr Malfoy’s winter home. He looked just like you. Does he remember me?” Morfin fidgeted with his wand for a moment, hurt that Harry was deliberately ignoring him, just like his father always did. Harry cleared his throat. Morfin gasped then chuckled. “Oh, I keep forgetting,” he said, and pulled the scarf out from between Harry’s teeth. “I thought you were ignoring me.”
“No, I wasn’t. Why don’t we wait until morning to open the tomb. I’m not feeling well. I’m feeling very sick, Morfin.”
“We’re just going to open it, get the memories and leave. C’mon, Harry, you promised him you’d do this. And I promised him I’d make you do this.” He hefted Harry to his toes and began moving again, toward the wooden door set in the stone wall.
Harry sighed. “Fine. I need that bottle.”
“What bottle?” Morfin asked, scratching his head.
“The bottle the Veela gave you. It’s to put the memories in.”
“Oh,” Morfin said, slipping a hand into his pocket. “This bottle?”
Harry smiled. “That’s the one.”
They reentered Riddle House quietly, Harry walking with Morfin more willingly now. He could sense the pulsing aura of the Veela, feel the magical energy of fierce bravery emanating from Ron and smell the cheap whiskey on Draco’s breath. “Morfin, it’s alright, NO ONE IS GOING TO HURT YOU,” he shouted into the room. “Let’s go finish this so your vow is complete, okay?”
Morfin stopped walking and plugged his ears. “Sure, Harry, but there’s no need to shout, I’m right here.”
Harry tipped his head sadly. “I just want to be very clear that NO ONE IS GOING TO DO ANYTHING TO HURT YOU OR STOP US, okay?”
Morfin’s hand was shaking funnily in front of him as he tried to cope with over stimulation. “Why do you keep shouting, Harry? I understood you the first time.”
“You’re right, how silly of me. Let’s get moving to the sub level then. I need to open that vault-Ow!” And as he took another step a tremendous amount of pain came along with it. Harry stopped moving, cringing, knowing instantly what had happened. “Ow,” he said again as the pain tightened. He tried to keep himself standing, they were so close to the door. Morfin was helping him limp. It was coming so fast, the clenching pain overwhelming him seemed dauntless. Through a cough, Harry murmured, “HeyRongogetSnapemate” as he reached out to balance on a pillar.
Within a second there was a bit of rustling a loud *pop* noise that startled Morfin, who seemed very confused. “I’m sorry, what?”
Harry grasped his hand, giving it a shake. “I need you to get me to that door, okay?” he said, looking the boy in the eye. He knew time was running out and if he didn’t complete his mission before Snape arrived, the bitter man would most likely kill Morfin. Morfin grabbed him around the middle as he doubled over in great trauma. “Keep going- Draco come out, help me! Morfin, don’t do anything hasty, he’s here to help.”
Draco grabbed Harry out of Morfin’s arms. His face was tense with worry and jealousy. It looked as if he might have been hitting his head on a pillar or something to stop himself from screaming. “What’s wrong, Har? Talk to me!”
Morfin was shaking his hands. “We’re still opening the door, right? Because I promised him I would make you.”
Matilda leaned out from behind the staircase. Her hair was in motion as she called to the flustered and mad wizard. “Come to me, let Draco take 'im to the door.”
Draco was beside himself. “What’s happening, Harry?”
“~Open up~!” Harry shouted to a symbol burned into the wood. He curled into Draco’s embrace and pressed his lips against his cheek as his arms circled his neck. “I’m pretty sure we got the time wrong on the gestation, Draco. You’re about to become a father again. This part, along with this horrible pain I’m having, I do remember. Now, please, take me down there.”
Hermione’s knitted brow was sweaty, the perspiration was leaking down her face as she studied the enchantment Snape was reciting to her. Draco couldn’t take his eyes away, watching her swaying her head to and fro as she chanted, the sweat droplets threatening to break free and land somewhere near Harry. “You really need to wipe your face or move away, Mu- ‘mione,” he said, feeling Harry’s powerful grip crush the delicate bones in his left hand.
“Shut the hell up, Malfoy,” Ron said with a glare, looking up from the potion cauldron he was stirring. “I’ll come over there and make you see stars.”
“If I have to start again one more time you’ll be waiting outside until we’re finished, Draco,” Snape warned him. He looked back at Hermione, giving her a nod. “You’ve got the gist of it. We’ll begin mixing the ingredients. When the colour changes blue it’s ready.”
“Really would have been my last choice of places to have a child in,” Harry said, looking mopey, hearing the portrait of Sirius’s mother shrieking at him for defiling her home with an unnatural abomination from across the hall. He was on a bed in a parlour that had been converted into a makeshift potion brewing room. Draco was on the bed beside him, pampering him. “Except for maybe Riddle House.”
“Tell me why we let Morfin go, Har, I thought he was some sort of deranged person,” Draco said while touching and rubbing Harry’s hands and face. He couldn’t get over how much he liked touching the former Gryffindor’s golden skin.
“He is deranged and potentially dangerous, but deep down he’s just a little boy. We almost gave him a dose of that potion we gave Marvolo but your wife stopped Snape. He won’t be bothering us anymore. Plus, your wife was really taken with him... um literally, she took him when she left.” He returned the warm touches, kissing Draco’s squished hand. “Doesn’t matter, his vow was fulfilled when I opened the tomb and vault. And in thirteen years,” he glanced over to Snape, “Snape’s will be, too. We can’t stop Marvolo from entering the vault or Snape will die. We have to let it happen.” He cringed, his breathing accelerated to panting. His vision got spottier. “Has it turned blue yet? It feels like I’m fading, Snape.”
“It’s blue!” Hermione shouted, grabbing up her wand and throwing herself over Harry’s bed.
“Uh, you didn’t wipe your- Oh, okay, not going to let that bother me. Harry, I didn’t say it, ow, ow, ow!”
Snape crossed the room, signalling Ron to his side. “Get him off the bed and over to the wall. You’ll probably have to hold him to it, We need to cut Harry open now,” he said through a sneer, his eyes on Draco.
“Cut him open?” Draco gripped the bedstead, refusing to let go.
“It’s not coming out of his arse,” Snape murmured without looking up.
Ron bent Draco’s fingers back as painfully as he could and yanked the other man away from the bed. He threw his back up against the wall so he could watch. “No funny moves, Malfoy, or I’ll put you in a full body bind.”
“-Diffindo-!”
Draco’s lungs froze, his lips parted and his eyes were as large as gold galleons as he watched Hermione cut an incision into seemingly nothingness. She reached in and pulled out the most beautiful little thing he had seen since Narcissa’s birth. It had a shock of white hair and the palest skin and it opened it’s lovely almond-shaped eyes. Through a murky blue the colour green like Harry’s was plainly there.
“Congratulations, Malfoy,” Hermione said. Once severing the cord, cleaning him up, wrapping the small boy in a blanket and showing Harry the little darling, she crossed the room and placed him in his father’s arms. “Number fifteen.”
“Number two,” he said snottily, but his eyes were on the sweet boy in his arms.
“No, actually, it’s fifteen. Your wife said every one of those Veela girls are yours. You’re just a big drunk who can’t remember anything.” She grinned very brightly at him as he gaped up at her, then turned on her heel and went back to check on Harry.
Harry waved him over and patted the side of the bed. “You need to break this to your father, Malfoy. I sort of promised his manor to your wife.”
Draco flinched. “What? How? You can’t do that.”
With a shrug of indifference, Harry disagreed. “I can, and I did. You don’t think she did this for free, did you? They really need the space, there’s so many of them. Give her your manor and she’ll have us over for Christmas.”
Hurt, Draco stared at him. “Why would you do that? What did we go through this for?”
Returning his stare, Harry clucked his tongue. “I got you and Cissy free and clear in exchange. We don’t even have to hide if we choose not to.”
Thinking on it, Draco shrugged. “Oh…” His eyes lit up. “You’re loaded, though, right?”
Hermione leaned over the bed, still smiling. “Yes, he’s loaded again. I spent a week in Azkaban to make sure of that.”
“Well then… Christmas, you say?”
“Yep, our babies with the Weasleys, Snape, all of your Veela daughters, your ex-wife and Morfin. It’s going to be fantastic.”
“He’s going to want to move in with-”
“No. Lucius can get a flat in Diagon Alley or something.”
“He’s not going to-”
“I don’t care.”
Thirteen years later…
A loud *crack* filled the lower village street. Oak trees rustled under the drizzle of spring rain. Their great trunks and vast bouquet of leaves canopied the houses from the vision of the wizard and witch making their way toward the small winding graveyard path. “What is this place?” the witch whispered while massaging the hand clenched over her forearm. She dragged her feet in trepidation. There was a malevolent ambiance she sensed in this dark place. Her hand grazed across his the back of his, teasing the flesh. Her hair began to flutter so prettily. “I don’t like it here. We could come back another time. You know you want to listen to me…”
The tall, dark-haired wizard abruptly stopped. Torchlight set alight his handsome face. “I have to do this, and I know what you’re trying to do to stop me. It won’t work.” His grip intensified on her wrist. He gave it a tug, forcing her to move with him once more.
“Damn you,” she hissed. She struggled to keep the pace of his long strides at such an awkward position. She smirked up at him, again resting her pale hand over his. “It worked last night.”
“Did it?” he said indifferently, returning the leer. “Or did I let you think it did?”
“You’re not that clever.” Sprinkled-raindrops plastered the thin strands of silvery-white hair to her cheeks. The gates to the graveyard entrance burst open from magic emitted from the tip of her wand. “After you, git.”
“Oh no, I insist,” he replied, giving her a firm push through the opening. “Use some of that Gryffindor bravery you’re always bragging about.”
Courageous or not, the environment she had been thrust into sent an icy chill trickling down her spine. She tensed, hugging her arms. “Marvo, you’re out of your mind if you think I’m going in there.”
Cuddling her around the middle, Marvolo dropped his chin on her shoulder. “I won’t let anything happen to you. This place has been abandoned for years.”
Cissy examined the tombstones they would have to cross in order to reach the manor at the top of the hill. The grasses surrounding them were waist-high, adding to the disturbing atmosphere of the surroundings. Heaving in a great breath, she allowed Marvolo to press her on.
The decaying manor drew closer. A sense of warning flooded Cissy’s veins. She dug her heels onto the earth, stalling their journey once more. “This isn’t the place you were talking about, is it?”
“It is,” he stated, giving her another healthy shove. “This is where my father, the Dark Lord Voldemort, lived.”
“Marvo, you promised!” Cissy roared. She gripped her wand, feeling his arms tighten around her waist. “You said the temptation…you promised him you’d never come here!”
“Keep moving, and keep quiet! You don’t want to draw attention to us,” he growled back.
“I thought you said this place was deserted!”
Lifting Cissy off her feet, Marvolo trudged on. “It is, but you don’t know if there’s anything crawling around out there, harpy.”
The main doors gave away easily. Marvolo inhaled the scent of evil, heard the whispers of snakes in the walls and felt the tremor of dread from the Veela in his arms. “Oh, Mordred,” he shivered. The ghosts of his legacy floated all around them. Cobwebs fluttered in the breeze under the tips of their lighted wands. The home was a shambles of its former self but he did not care. All he needed to know was the location of what he was seeking.
Stepping inside both witch and wizard froze. The wooden floorboards creaked, bowing under pressure. “Be careful,” he said under his breath. Whispers of fortune slipped into his mind like silk. His head swayed toward it. It was unavoidable. He pointed to a small door to the side of the foyer. Boarded and chained it also held a magical signature distinct to Marvolo; hissing, calling his name. “That’s it. It’s down there.” He rubbed his arm instinctively, feeling the scar adorning it start to burn.
Cissy shook her head, refusing to budge. “This is bad. Everything is bad. Why did you bring me here?”
“Move, Malfoy!” Fearing walking too closely together might cave the floor in - but worried she might run off, Marvolo shoved her ahead of him. “I brought you because you need to see it.”
Now standing before the door, Marvolo concentrated on the symbol burned into the wood. Cissy ran her fingers over it in curio. “Father has this mark on his arm.”
“~I know. It’s the Dark Mark~.”
“What did you say?” Cissy felt the skin on her arms prickle and the hairs on the nape of her neck stand straight up.
Marvolo looked at her, inclining his head. “It’s the Dark Mark; the symbol of Lord Voldemort. He burned it into his follower’s arms.”
“I know what the damned thing is but that’s not what you said,” she snapped, trembling and holding herself for comfort. “You hissed in that scary stupid snake voice. I don’t like it here, I want to go home!”
“Cissy, please, I didn’t mean to,” he declared, cupping her pretty face in his hands. He pressed his lips to hers and looked her in the eye. His normally unmoved expression was fraught with concern. “You’re my best friend. I wanted you to be here with me for support. I don’t know what will happen when I open the vault. I need you to be strong enough for both of us.”
Squaring her shoulders, she took his hands and gave them a squeeze. The thought of something harming Marvolo armoured her bearing. “Well, why didn’t you say that before?” They both turned back to the door. She held her wand across her chest. “Open the blasted thing.”
The words slithered through his lips. “~Open up~!” The door shook, chains rattled and fell apart at each link and the boards burst into flames. Marvolo pulled Narcissa back as it burned and kissed the shell of her ear. “Don’t be afraid, there shouldn’t be any more surprises. Lord Voldemort wanted me to come down here when I came of age.”
“That’s what frightens me,” she replied.
Marvolo pushed the door open and stood on the top step of the stone staircase leading to the unknown. “Er,” he groaned, his bright-green eyes flickering with nervousness in the darkness. “Keep your wand out and a shield spell in mind, will you?”
Cissy stepped to his side and held her wand up for more light. “Shield spell? I’m this close to stunning you and dragging you back to school.”
Marvolo clasped his hand in hers and took the first step.
“Please, let’s go back and get daddy,” Cissy pleaded. “He can open it too, right? Please, Marvo!”
Marvolo pressed on, shaking his head. “He’s already done his part. It’s ready for me. Snape made the portkey here. It’s been calling to me all month in dreams. I have to do this.” He began descending into the sub level, Cissy’s hand clutched in his, their wands up and lit. “It’s so close,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “So close… calling me. ~I’m coming~!”
“I see it!” Cissy shouted, pointing her wand into the small room at the glowing Pensieve set in the centre. A bottle of swirling silver smoke floated timelessly above it. She gave him one last nudge. “Are you sure about this?”
He gave her a nod. “I am. Join me, I want you to see it, too.” He grabbed the bottle and uncorked it, setting its contents pooling into the basin. Trepidation and elation flitted around his heart. “You ready?”
“Yes.” Together they threw themselves forward into the Pensieve.
With a glow of poisonous green flames flickering around the edges, vivid images of the past, of Lord Voldemort and his acts of horror against so many innocent people played before them. He was a true monster who showed no mercy to anyone he encountered. These were not the memories that were supposed to be implanted in Marvolo - yet they were still his and it was set and the vow was finally fulfilled. With a gasp for air, Marvolo pulled away and stumbled backward.
Narcissa sobbed in her hands. “He killed my grandmother, Marvo. He murdered her and he was laughing when he did it.”
Marvolo held his hand up to her and she took it, helping him to his feet. His mind was a jumbled mess. So many horrible images burned forever into his psyche. At one time he’d been flattered thinking about the genius his father was, if only his ideals were more in tune with his other father’s. But now, in this light, seeing first hand what Lord Voldemort had done to so many, to his father, to Ron, to Snape, to Hermione, and even to himself as a tiny infant, he could never feel anything other than loathe for him.
“~Are you alright, Marvolo~?” The witch and wizard looked up the staircase, seeing Harry, Draco and Severus looking down at them.
He gave his father a curt nod. “I’m good. Ready to get out of here and never come back.”
Snape’s eyes closed as the morose magic he was bound to evaporated from his skin. “It’s done, it’s over,” he said, opening his eyes and smiling for the first time since before the war had begun. He looked at Harry and Draco, still grinning from ear to ear, feeling quite well. “Right, so I’m moving out. I’ve already packed. Good bye.” He gave the children a wave. And with that he was gone.
Shrugging, Draco took a step forward into the sub level, his eyes glued on the children. “Is it just me or did I see you two kiss at some point? There was an awful lot of innuendo between you two.”
“I saw it, too,” Harry said, making a bothered face. “And heard it.”
Narcissa was gaping back at them. “I knew you’d do this when you found out. Mum said mystical creatures are better off being together. She’s absolutely fine with it.”
Draco snarled. “She would be.” He took Harry’s hand. “We’re leaving. Get back to school. Don’t touch each other. I will be sending an owl off to the headmaster. Go.”
Harry clicked his tongue. “Oh, Draco, let them be. You know how it is.”
Wrapping an arm around him, Draco lifted Harry up while still glaring at the two teens. “Shut up, scarhead. Taking you home and making you pay for this… with you-know-what.”
“Yeck!”
“I said get back to school!”
“Let’s go, twitchy.”
The End