Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Light of Heaven	By : Draeconin Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 28741 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Light of Heaven
by Draeconin

See chapter one for ratings, summary and other details.

Disclaimer: If you don't recognize it, it's mine. Everything else belongs to the copyright holders.

Chapter 10

Harry and Draco woke slowly, wrapped around each other. They started their day by gazing deeply into each other's eyes, but peripheral vision told them something was different. Upon looking around, they were slightly disoriented. This was not their rooms. 'The infirmary, I think,' Harry thought.
'The white walls would be a dead give-away, wouldn't they?' Draco thought back, his 'tone' dry.
'Yes, they would,' Harry agreed. Then he frowned in puzzlement as he realized something. 'Draco? I'm hearing you, but I don't think we're talking. At least, I'm not hearing my own voice when I'm speaking with you.'
'You're in love with the sound of your own voice?' Draco asked, mocking him fondly. But his own mind was working furiously, now.
'Hilarious, lover-boy. D'you think we should let someone know we're awake?'
Draco shook off the puzzle, and turned his attention back to Harry. 'The sooner, the better. I'd like to get us back to our own rooms, so I can ravage you again.'
'Who was ravaging whom?' Harry teased.
Draco opted for vocal communication. "It was mutual?"
"Damn straight, as the Americans would say."
"Straight? Gods, I hope not: I was just becoming used to you!" Draco teased.
Harry growled at his mate and lover, and attacked his neck, much to Draco's delight. The blond started stroking Harry's back, then stopped, frowning.
"You're right," Harry said, picking up on his mate's thought, "hospital pyjamas are a long way from what I'd like to be touching, as well. But they're a good reminder that we're not in our own rooms. I don't think I'm ready for an audience while we pleasure each other." Harry considered a moment. "Only one thing for it, then," he said. Draco agreed.
"Oy! Madam Pomfrey!" they yelled, together.
The mediwitch bustled into the room. "No need to shout, or be rude," she said. "Now: How are you feeling?"
"Hungry!" they said in unison.
"Quite reasonably, too. Two days out of it, you were. Oh, not to worry, lads," she added as she saw their expressions, "you're just fine, and as far as I could find, there was nothing wrong with you to begin with. I know it's rather a delicate subject, but did you have a particularly, er, intense bonding?"
Harry quickly consulted Draco via their newly-acquired mental communication, then answered for them both. "We don't have anything to measure it against, but it was extremely intense for us, yes."
'I can't "hear" her, Harry; only you.'
Harry concentrated, and found the same was true for himself. 'Maybe it only works between us, because of our bond?'
"It's possible that your bodies just needed to adjust to the bond, then. But you were saying you were hungry?"
At the young men's vociferous assent, Madam Pomfrey laughed, and called for a house elf. "Dobby?!" The little elf popped in, focused on the mediwitch; but as soon as he saw Harry and Draco, he started fawning over them. "Mister Harry, Mister Draco! Dobby so happy you okay! Dobby so worried when young masters not wake up!"
"Dobby found you and alerted us to your condition," Poppy said.
Then, to Dobby, she said "But we don't want to talk about all of that right now, do we?" Her voice was stern and reprimanding.
Dobby cringed a little, but nodded agreement.
"The Misters Potter and Malfoy would like some breakfast, Dobby," Madam Pomfrey told the elf.
"But..." Dobby started to protest.
"Breakfast, Dobby. It just means the first meal of the day. Two plates, juice, and toast." Poppy looked at the two young men appraisingly. "And it might be best if you stayed within earshot. I think they'll want more than one serving."
Harry, upon seeing this rather uncharacteristic behaviour from the mediwitch, became suspicious. "Hold on a minute, please, Dobby," Harry requested. "I think Draco and I would like to ask you and Madam Pomfrey a few questions, first."
Poppy turned back to her patients, only to find them sitting up on the bed, regarding her rather intensely. "Yes?" she inquired.
"Information, Madam Pomfrey," Draco stated, having picked up on Harry's suspicions. "No more secrets regarding us. Start with how we got here and why, and then what you've found out since."
"The headmaster will answer-"
Harry interrupted her. "I'm sorry, Poppy, but any information Professor Dumbledore has, he got from you. Why would we want it second-hand?" Harry asked.
'I don't like this. Dumbledore is a manipulative old git, and as slippery as anything,' he mind-spoke to the young man beside him.
'Harry! Don't tell me you're getting wise in your old age?' the blond teased; but his 'voice' had a slight edge to it.
'I've known about him for awhile, now. That's why I tread carefully when I'm "following orders". And,' he admitted, 'why I sometimes get into trouble. I don't trust him. Him more than most other adults, but that's not saying much. I love Sirius, and like Lupin, and I guess I trust them, at least insofar as my safety goes, but I don't trust any of them to not keep secrets from me. That's about it insofar as the adults go. How about you?'
'Snape, I suppose. That's about it. Otherwise, it's just you. I'm not sure if I can trust any of the people I used to call friends; especially now.'
'I know what you mean. I think I can trust Hermione, though. I love Ron like a brother, but he's got some real issues, and I don't think I could trust him to back me up right now. I don't think he'd do anything to hurt me, or get me hurt, physically, but while Hermione has always been there for me, Ron has freaked out on me from time to time. And I'm almost certain that what has happened to, and between us, will prove to be a freak-out thing for him.'
'An understatement, I think. And Granger won't freak?'
'She'll adjust rather quickly, anyway. She loves puzzles and solving problems, and I think she'll see us as one huge puzzle!' Harry 'said', grinning.
'I never knew that about the Weas- about Weasley. I thought he was a better friend to you than that. I'm sorry. I'm not going to give him any slack, though, if he does freak out on you, substitute brother or no. But I'll try to give the mu- Granger, a chance.'
Harry laughed, proud that his lover had censored himself - not once, but twice - and gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, much to Draco's embarrassment. "Really, Harry! Not in public, please!"
Harry just grinned and nuzzled his mate's neck, then became aware that Pomfrey was looking at them strangely, and dimly recalled her voice while he'd been privately conversing with Draco. Had she been talking to them?
Turning to the woman, he said "I'm sorry, Madam Pomfrey. I'm afraid my thoughts were elsewhere."
Draco coughed, trying to hide his sudden laughter. 'Harry!' he remonstrated.
"I believe you were about to tell us our situation, or what you know of it?" Harry prompted, grinning.
"No, Mr. Potter, I was not, and am not. You will have to wait until the headmaster can fill you in," Pomfrey replied.
Harry was suddenly angry. The accumulation of years worth of frustration from being kept ignorant of matters that directly concerned himself suddenly came to a head. He caught Madam Pomfrey's eyes with his own, and commanded "You will tell us what you know of our situation, and now!"
'Harry! Let her go! Now!'
'What are you talking about, "Let her go"? I'm not doing anything to her!'
'Break eye contact, Harry, before you hurt her. Please!' Draco wasn't so much concerned for the woman as he was for Harry, should he inadvertently harm the woman. He knew how Harry had wallowed in guilt over the deaths of others, and fretted about others being harmed because of him.
The tone of Draco's mental voice got through to him, and Harry looked at his mate, still annoyed, but he could not deny him.
'I wasn't hurting her, Draco. I'm just
tired of these incessant secrets!'
"Look at her now, Harry," Draco said, gently.
Harry looked, and gasped. Pomfrey had slumped almost bonelessly to the floor. "What... What happened?"
"My guess is that your Noble Vampire genes were stronger than anyone thought. When you got angry, your eyes glowed red, Harry! I read a little bit about vampires when I was younger, and if I were to guess, I'd say you have at least one of their mental powers - coercion."
"Like 'Imperius'?" Harry asked, horrified.
"Not so totally, but a little bit, yes. I think we should get her onto a bed, don't you?"
Harry looked a bit guilt-stricken, but nodded; and finding his wand on the nightstand, cast "Mobilicorpus!" But nothing happened. Frowning, he tried again. A few sparks came out of the end of his wand, and Madam Pomfrey's body seemed to rise a bit, but then subsided. A feeling of panic rising in him, but trying to remain calm, he said "Draco?"
Draco had watched Harry try to use a spell that he'd mastered long ago, and fail, much to his own shock. Harry was, or had been, one of the strongest wizards in Britain, even at his young age. At Harry's half-spoken query/request, he stepped forward to take care of Madam Pomfrey himself - with fewer results. Draco's magic had always been a constant in his life. To say he felt lost would be a vast understatement. A gaping chasm suddenly opening under him would have provided less anxiety.
"Mister Harry Potter, sir?" Dobby made his presence known, a strange look on his face.
"Dobby! By the gods, but you gave me a start! I forgot you were here!" Harry exclaimed. "Could you request Dumbledore, Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Sprout come to the infirmary, please? And ask one of your co-workers to bring Draco and me some breakfast, along with large mugs of hot chocolate?" Harry requested.
"Yes, sir, Master Harry Potter, sir," said Dobby. But before he left to do so, he did something both boys found very strange. Standing straighter than they had ever seen a house-elf do, head high, Dobby went to one knee, sweeping his arms wide before him, and bowing his head. "As milord commands," he added, getting back to his feet, and disappearing with a *pop*.
Eyes wide, Harry and Draco stared at where the house elf had been, then at each other. 'Too much strangeness.' they thought at each other. 'Well, before magic, was muscle, and I'd say we both have enough strength, eh? Harry 'said'. And suiting action to thought, he picked up the mediwitch as though she were no more than a two-year-old child, and gently deposited her in an empty bed.
No sooner had he done so than two house-elves popped in with large trays; one with platters of fried ham, eggs, bacon, kippers, bangers, fried tomatoes, scones, and toast, the other laden with coffee, tea, pumpkin juice, sweet clotted cream, marmalade, butter, the requested hot chocolate, and other luxuries. "Where would the masters like their meal?" asked one.
Pleased with the relatively luxurious meal being offered, Draco motioned them to another empty bed. The firm mattress would provide little danger of liquids containers tipping over on the tray, unless bumped. The elves carefully placed the trays where indicated, then backed away from the boys, made the same obeisance Dobby had shown them, said "It is a pleasure to serve the masters," and popped out.
"What the bloody hell is going on?" Harry all but yelled.
"A question I'm sure we'd all like answered, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said from the direction of the door, as he strode into the room.
"Harry, is that you?" came Ron's voice from behind Dumbledore, much to the old man's startled annoyance.

"Mr. Weasley! Miss Granger! I thought you'd agreed not to pursue Mr. Potter's whereabouts!"

"No, Headmaster; we merely agreed not to keep asking other people questions about where Harry was or might be," Hermione contradicted, while both she and Ron pushed past him. But as soon as Harry's best friends saw him, they stopped dead in their tracks, staring.

Since they were there, Dumbledore decided to stand back and let them have their reunion. 'This should prove - entertaining - at the very least,' he thought.

"Just a moment, Ron," Harry said. "Headmaster, there's something wrong with Madam Pomfrey. Could you see to her, please?"

"Practicing your leadership skills, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked, wryly amused. Harry blushed lightly, but turned back to his friends instead of replying.

"Bloody hell, Harry," Ron said, awe evident in his voice "You just have to remember what you did differently with your potion - we'll be rolling in it!"

Hermione's initial reaction was much the same as Ron's, but from the look on her face, Harry thought she was coming to some quite different conclusions. Better he break the news. "Draco and I were just sitting down to breakfast. If you haven't eaten yet, you're welcome to join us. We can talk as we eat."
Ron replied enthusiastically. "It's past dinner, but yeah, sure, mate. You know me, Harry, I can always fit... 'Draco'? Since when are you calling that ponsy git by his given name, Harry?" Ron asked, startled anger in his voice.
Harry put out his arm automatically, stopping his mate from going after his friend. 'I told you he'd probably be difficult, Draco. Please let me handle him.'
'If you don't handle him, I will. Friend or not, I will not stand to be insulted!'
'He's been a good friend, Draco, but you're more important, now. I won't allow him to besmirch your honour, either. Your honour is my own.' He was immediately sorry for the melodramatic way he'd phrased that, but he meant it.
Somewhat mollified, Draco settled down, but didn't step back. That might have been seen as a retreat.
Harry saw movement out of the corner of his eye. It looked like Madam Pomfrey was coming around, under Dumbledore's ministrations. Good. He hoped he hadn't damaged her.
Calmly reaching for some toast and the marmalade, and pleased to see Draco following his example by starting to load a plate, Harry asked "Have you ever heard of part-Veela's, Ron?" At the question, Harry saw a look of triumph cross Hermione's face. She'd figured at least a part of the answer, though Harry thought, mischievously, she'd still be in for some surprises.
Ron's face turned red. "Is that it? Is Malfoy some sort of-"
"Don't say something we'll both be sorry for, Ron!" Harry interrupted sharply, then continued, to Ron's shocked face. "It turns out that Draco and I are both part Veela."
Ron's eyes got huge at that, mouth working like a guppy's. From the look on Hermione's face, Harry surmised they'd reached 'Surprise number one.'
"There was nothing wrong with my Power Partner potion, or Draco's. And I don't think our genetics would have made a difference in how it worked. Hermione: During the lesson, and since the incident, I'm sure you've done a lot of research on it and the kinds of bondings it can initiate?" Hermione nodded. "Did you find one called a 'Light of Heaven' bonding?"
Hermione's mouth dropped open slightly, and her eyes got huge. 'Surprise number two,' Harry thought triumphantly. "Yes, I did. But it's so rare! It's almost myth! Is that what happened?"
Harry nodded. Ron looked confused. "You want to explain it to Ron? I don't think he's heard of it. I hadn't either until it happened to me - us," Harry laughed, correcting himself, and sending an apologetic look to his mate. "I hadn't even heard of that potion until that week!"

Draco handed the filled plate to Harry, then started to fill one for himself. Harry was a little surprised, but recognised the gesture for what it was - a show of solidarity in the face of opposition. "Thank you, Drake."

His expression didn't alter a jot, but 'Drake?' Draco queried.

'I hope you don't mind, love. I thought a familiarity that wasn't too sweet might drive the point home without having to use a hammer. And as I recall, you threatened to kill me if I used anything too 'sappy' in front of others?'
'So I did. Please - carry on.' A smile that was very close to a smirk was playing across the blond's lips.
By that time Hermione had filled Ron in. Ron was looking more than a little green around the gills. Harry couldn't resist. "Bangers?" he inquired, offering a particularly greasy specimen.
Ron shook his head 'no', violently. Harry smirked.

"Harry! That wasn't nice!" Hermione snapped.
"Perhaps not, but neither was the insult to my mate," Harry said quietly.
"I thought I was your best friend, Harry!" Ron complained.
"You are my best friend, Ron. Draco is my bondmate. Actually, he's both my Veela mate, and my bondmate. Do you appreciate the difference?"
Ron turned white, looked between the two young men a couple of times, turned to Hermione for help, and while turning, fainted. She caught him just before his head would have hit the hospital bed's low headboard, managing to lower him gently to the floor. She was showing more than a little shock, as well. 'Surprise number three,' Harry thought, more grimly.
"Thank you, 'Mione. I'd hate to see Ron get hurt. But while we're doing 'True Confessions', here, I do have a correction to make to what I was saying to Ron. I wouldn't want to say it while he could hear, but while Ron is my oldest friend, he hasn't always supported me when I needed it, as you have. Thank you."
Hermione understood what wasn't being said, and blushed, a silly grin on her face, then remembered herself. "And how about how you're treating Ron?" she asked, acerbically.
Harry shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving Hermione's. "Ron's going to have to learn to live with the situation. Unfortunately, while I love both of you dearly, Draco and I have a lot of things of our own to deal with; and as my mate, he has to come first in my priorities. From little things I've noticed about the two of you, I think you'll be able to help each other out quite well."
"Harry, have you been listening to yourself? That doesn't sound like you at all!" Hermione exclaimed.
Harry grinned. "I guess it doesn't, does it?" Then the grin slid from his face, and he continued in a more serious tone of voice. "But I've had to do a lot of growing up in the last few weeks, 'Mione."
"Something here doesn't make sense. You're keeping things from me, aren't you?"
Harry nodded, soberly. "Things I don't even begin to know how to explain, 'Mione, so it's not purposeful. This is all too new." Harry smiled again. "Now, would you like to wake up your boyfriend, or is he less trouble like that?"
"Enervate," incanted a male voice, and a light struck the supine redhead. Dumbledore. He'd been exceptionally patient, for him, but now the headmaster was again making his presence known.
"Harry?" came a plaintive voice from the floor. "Tell me it was all just a..." They heard a heavy sigh. "No, you still look like a god, and the git still looks like an angel. I guess it wasn't a dream, after all," Ron mourned. "Bollocks."
"Just as long as you remember that I'm the only one allowed to worship at his altar, Weasley," Draco drawled.
Harry blushed, then sniggered as Ron sputtered.

"My, but the carrot-top has a dirty mind, Harry. He figured out what I was saying right away!" the blond said, snickering.
"If the deity, his minion, and worshippers can spare an old man a few minutes?" Dumbledore said, dryly.
Harry'd had enough. "Only if the old man is through playing chess with the deity in question, Headmaster. I'm tired of being used without knowing what the bloody hell is going on."
"Is that what you think I've been doing, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked, aloofly.
"No, Headmaster, that's what I know you've been doing; what I've known since my second year, here," Harry replied, tiredly. "With the help of Sirius and a few others, I've pieced together most of my history. I don't know why you placed me with those lunatic people after my parents died, nor why you never checked up on me to see how I was faring, but I know that Death Eaters killed my parents, and I know that the spell that killed them was also supposed to have killed me, but was deflected somehow. I also know that those responsible were never punished. But I've decided that I can't live for revenge. I've gone along with your plans for me up until now out of respect, a sense of duty, and nothing else to do with my life. But it's not just me that would suffer, any longer. Now I have a mate I need to think of, and a future to plan with him."

A strangled sound came from the floor. "Get off the floor, Ron. If you're still feeling unbalanced, there are chairs," Harry said, not unkindly.
Turning back to the stunned headmaster, Harry said "You have never trusted me with all of the facts, and I believe it is that fact that has caused me to make more mistakes, cause more damage, and even cost the lives of people close to me, than any other. No longer. If I decide to keep working with you, if it's even possible, I will insist on knowing everything that is known by anyone on our side about a situation."
Ron, half off the floor at that point, sat back down with a thump. His expression practically matched Hermione's; one of shocked horror, that such a respected figure should be talked to like that.
"Yes, ladies and gentlemen, The Boy Who Lived does have a mind of his own!" Draco declared, dry amusement clear in his voice.
"Well, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said, ignoring Draco's witticism, "you've certainly expressed some opinions."
Harry rolled his eyes. "So I have," he replied sarcastically. "And where are the others I requested be here?"
"The world does not answer to your beck and call, Mr. Potter. They had classes."
"Bitter, much?" Draco queried, not expecting an answer; which was good, because he didn't get one.
"I asked for them in case Madam Pomfrey needed their aid," Harry said, but Dumbledore ignored the explanation.
"What did you mean, Mr. Potter, by 'if it's possible' to continue working with me?" the headmaster asked.
"Unless it was a fluke, Draco and I seem to be having some trouble with our magic. We weren't able to transfer Madam Pomfrey to a bed when she collapsed."
Now looking less angry and more concerned, Dumbledore turned to the mediwitch. "Poppy? Are you up to checking out this problem?"
Looking just a little less than murderous, Madam Pomfrey glared at Harry, but said "I already have." She turned her gaze to Dumbledore before continuing. "The magical influences in all of this are fascinating. It's extremely difficult to say where one influence ends and another begins. Most of the physical changes are ones one would expect from any part-Veela genetic inheritance. However, there seem to have been some highly unlikely variations. While it seems beyond belief, it appears that the Power Partner bond informed the genetics of both young men of what their relationship would be, influencing their physical changes. Should I go into detail?"
"I don't believe that will be necessary, Poppy. Perhaps just the highlights?"
'Pervert,' Draco deadpanned.
Harry snickered, drawing curious gazes from the other four in the room who were, of course, unable to hear their mental dialogue with each other. 'You don't think he has any other sort of sex life, do you? Harry asked.
Draco smirked.
Harry interrupted. "Just a minute, please. While Draco and I are the subjects of this conversation, and I can see why you, headmaster, might have a need to know since we're pupils here, I'd just as soon not have anyone else present."
Turning to his friends, he said "Sorry, Ron: 'Mione, but this sounds like it's going to get highly personal. You understand, don't you?"
"Oh, yes, Harry. But you do understand that we're going to be asking questions later?" Hermione said.
"Just as long as you don't expect to get answers, 'Mione," Harry replied, smirking.
Dumbledore interrupted, addressing Harry's friends. "The two of you will return to your classes and accept any penalties rendered for your tardiness. I am also deducting ten points each from Gryffindor for your earlier insolence."
"But...!" Ron began.

"No 'buts', Mr. Weasley. Go."

When the four of them were alone, Dumbledore nodded to Madam Pomfrey, indicating she should continue.

"It seems that changes were made to make artificial aids to intercourse unnecessary, glands providing the necessary. Mr. Malfoy is capable of conceiving and giving live birth unaided, while Mr. Potter might do so with proper magical preparation." At that, Harry and Draco gasped. Poppy smirked at them, happy for some small measure of revenge. "That is, providing they make a conscious choice to conceive." The two young men almost passed out from the relief they felt. "Environmental conditions must also be satisfactory for conception to take place." At the quizzical looks she received, Madam Pomfrey explained. "They need to feel safe. As for their magic: Not only is it still there, but the levels are far beyond any I've seen before. However, it is not wizard magic. Those levels are very low, fit only for the smallest magics, such as Lumos."

"Regarding pregnancies; such things as rape by another, or forcing us to have intercourse would be of no avail?" Draco asked.

"That is correct, Mr. Malfoy," the mediwitch replied, giving the young blond a curious look.

'Why did you ask that?' Harry asked.

'Our magic. If it's as high as Pomfrey says it is, my father would love to get his hands on a child of ours to raise with his ideas and hatreds - provided that child's magic had as high a potential as ours. This way, we have time to prepare ourselves and create a safe haven before starting a family - if we want to?'

Harry looked at his mate, horror-stricken with the idea of Lucius getting anywhere near a child of theirs.
'I never thought of children before our first bonding. Then, well... Until now I didn't think we'd be able to have children, so I haven't thought of it. But as far as I'm concerned now, there will be no child at least until we can be sure your father will never be able to get anywhere near it - him - her.'

Draco ignored Harry's mental stammer. 'I've always wanted children; mostly so I could lavish the love on them I didn't receive, but after we bonded, I didn't think I'd ever be able to have children, either. Now the chance is there again. But I agree; no children until we can be sure they'll be safe.'

"Well, well, well. Some quite fascinating information, here. But the bottom line is, this is quite a setback for us," Dumbledore opined.
Harry stared at the old man in disbelief. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't get anything out. He closed his mouth, then tried again. "I... I can't believe you! I thought it, but... I've just been a tool for you - a weapon to use against your enemies!" Harry sat there staring, shaking his head. "Do you care at all that my life, and Draco's, have just been turned completely upside down?"
The headmaster had the grace to look somewhat abashed. "Yes, of course I care, Mr. Potter: Mr. Malfoy. But I'm afraid that Hogwarts is geared only towards witchcraft and wizardry, and those arts that apply to those areas. The fact that you have great magic is-"
A Ravenclaw prefect stuck his head in the door, interrupting. "Headmaster Dumbledore? So sorry to interrupt, sir, but Mr. Lucius Malfoy is here demanding to see his son. He's creating quite a scene, sir."
"Thank you, Mathews," Dumbledore replied. "Please put him in the green conference room, and tell him I'll be with him directly. Please see to it that he is served with the tea and biscuits of his choice."
"Well, gentlemen, shall we adjourn to my office? I believe your robes and other clothing are in the first wardrobe over there," he said, pointing. "I'll meet you in, say, a quarter-hour?" With Harry and Draco's assent, he left, and the young lovers started getting dressed.

In Dumbledore's office, Harry sat on the arm of the overstuffed chair Draco was sitting in, and put a hand on his shoulder in show of support.
Dumbledore looked at the two, and said "Well, it was only a matter of time. Don't take anything I may say or do to heart, even if it seems against you. I assure you, none of it will hurt you. But I need you to act as though you believe it, anyway."
"Always so cryptic, playing your cards too close to your chest. Letting those who are colluding with you in on your plans is only good strategy, Headmaster. A blind assistant is of little use," Draco instructed.
Dumbledore gazed at the young Slytherin for a moment, then smiled. "I'm not used to trusting anyone, Mr. Malfoy, but you are, of course, correct. Very well, then. I plan to tell your father that your and Mr. Potter's present condition is the direct result of the potions incident of which, I am sure, he has already had reports. I will also tell him that, although it triggered your Veela transformation, it completely botched up your magic. If we can convince him that the two of you are completely useless and harmless to him... You understand?"
Draco and Harry nodded. It was a good plan, as far as it went. "And if he tests that story?" Draco asked.
"Perhaps it would be best to ward the two of you against any - untoward incidents of that sort." The headmaster began weaving his wand in intricate patterns, mumbling under his breath. An occasional mumbled exclamation could be heard as he cast one warding spell after another. When he'd finished, he put his wand away, and smiled. "That should do it!" he said brightly. "Shall we adjourn to the meeting?"
Dumbledore waved a hand at a section of bookcase, which slid aside to reveal a small sitting-room decorated in shades of green, giving it a somewhat mossy appearance, in Harry's opinion.
As they entered, Lucius Malfoy was sitting stiffly upright in a cane-backed chair, the tea and biscuits ignored on a tray on a small side table next to him. His expression of cold disdain altered not one iota as his gaze raked over the three, as though he saw his son's appearance alter every day. He watched as they seated themselves, Harry and Draco in almost intimate proximity. When he spoke, it was not to his son.
"Well, Headmaster? What do you have to say for yourself?"
"In what regard, Mr. Malfoy?"
"I assume you are aware that you are not returning my son to me in the same condition in which I left him in your care? Nor, I see, was it an isolated incident," he commented, finally acknowledging Harry's presence. "Quite disturbing, actually, to see how you fail your duties."

"What I find interesting, Mr. Malfoy, is that you do not seem to be the least bit interested in what happened to your son, or Mr. Potter, here. You do not ask about his health, or anything of his welfare, but immediately start laying blame. Of course I assume you have had reports from your usual sources in the school, but wouldn't you like to hear the official report?"

Lucius' eyes narrowed the merest fraction of an inch; a sure sign that he was annoyed; in this case by Dumbledore's not only being completely unfazed by his attack and accusations, but very neatly sidestepping them and letting him know that the headmaster was well aware of the spies he had there at the school. "Very well, Headmaster," he hissed, "let's do hear your report."

Dumbledore told the story he had outlined to the boys in the outer office.

"And you expect me to swallow this codswallop? By Noita's icy teats, what do you take me for?" Lucius sneered. Whipping out his wand and pointing it at Harry, he incanted "Engorgio!"

At Lucius' first movement towards his wand, Harry instinctively drew his own, and at almost the same time as the blond man incanted his spell, Harry yelled "Stupefy!" Draco's fear of his father had made him freeze just long enough for this to happen, before he was frantically going for his own wand, and cast "Expelliarmus!" at his sire, then stopped as he realised that nothing had happened - anywhere. Lucius' spell had hit the wards placed around Harry and him, and Harry's wand had only sparked, as had his own.
"As you can see, Mr. Malfoy, I have warded your son and Mr. Potter against just such an attack since, as you also saw, they cannot now protect themselves. For all intents and purposes, they are part-Veela squibs," Dumbledore smoothly lied. 'What they really are, is a mystery that someone else will have to solve,' he thought.
For the first time, real emotion showed on the elder Malfoy's face as he stood up, face red with rage. "Veela? There are no animals in my family line!" His voice dropped low; dangerous, as he addressed the old man. "As low an opinion as I have of you and your school, I'm sure your medical staff is adequate enough to determine magically-induced changes from genetically-induced. Therefore, I have no son, and I have no further business with you." With that, he stood up, and stalked out of the room.
Shock was evident in Draco's bloodless face. Even Harry's mouth hung open.
Dumbledore stood quickly, almost running towards his office. "I hadn't counted on this development. We must move quickly!" But the help he summoned wasn't fast enough. By the time the Aurors got to Malfoy Manor, Narcissa Malfoy was dead, and Lucius was gone.
- 9
- 10
- 11
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Light of Heaven