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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
- 10
- 11
- 12
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 Eleven
'Draco? Draco, please come back to me. You're scaring me.'
After being disinherited, learning of his mother's death by his father's hand, and then his father's death by Aurors when they found Lucius in his 'gentlemen's club', and the stupid bastard hadn't had the grace to give up peacefully, Draco had gone into shock. True, he had hated his father, and his mother had always been cold and unfeeling towards him, but the hatred had been something to lean on - a constant; one of the props in his life. And being a Malfoy had given him something to stand on, to say 'This is where I came from', with at least some degree of pride. Now it was gone - all of it. Except it wasn't, quite. His father hadn't had time to disown him.
'You still have me, Draco. Can I be enough for you? Will you let me stand beside you?'

The voice kept whispering in his mind; it just wouldn't go away, and it kept promising sunshine and happiness. He had known happiness once, fleetingly.
'Yes, my love. You and I, together. We can have it again. Come back to me.'
Draco opened his eyes. Green. Deep, golden-green pools full of worry, and... Life. Hope. Love. 'Harry?'
'Oh, yes, Draco! Yes!' Tears of relief and happiness flowed freely from those gold-flecked green orbs. 'My love, you've come back to me!'
"What did I say about being sappy, Harry?" Draco complained tiredly.
Harry laughed weakly through his tears. "You said 'not in public', you prat." He kissed Draco softly. "But we're not in public."
"If you're going to get that sappy, I might outlaw it altogether," Draco grumped, with little conviction.
"Then you're just going to have to punish me, aren't you? 'Cause when I'm with you, I just get sappy all over."
"Sexual innuendos, too? When will it end?" Draco mumbled.
"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present my shy and sexually repressed mate and boyfriend, Draco Malfoy?" said a blushing Harry.
At the sound of the laughter of several people, Draco came fully aware and tried to look everywhere at once, engendering yet more laughter. Harry hugged him harder, grinning from ear to ear. "I thought you said we were alone, Harry!" Draco complained, vehemently.
"No, I didn't. I said we weren't in public," Harry quietly contradicted, and kissed the blond's cheek.
Standing or sitting around the infirmary bed were several people Draco recognised, including his own Head of House, Professor Snape, who was looking anything but happy about what was happening in front of his eyes. Harry was sitting beside him on the bed. "Harry? As soon as we're alone, I'm going to kill you!" Draco threatened, his face red.
"Well, you're certainly sounding more like yourself, anyway!" Harry said, grinning.
"So is there a reason for all these people being here, or was it entirely for my humiliation?"
Raising his voice, Draco announced "Yes, folks, the beautiful blond is just fine, the show is over, and you can all go home, now!"
"Draco! They're here because they were worried about you. Now apologise!"
"I don't apologise," Draco pouted. "I want you," he added quietly, so only Harry would hear him
Harry was already very much aware of that. He could smell his mate's desire, could feel his need to be held and made love to, and the words only made Harry's attempts at self-control that much more difficult. "You know I want you as badly. Apologise, and it won't be another thirty seconds, I promise," he whispered.
Draco hesitated, but only for a second. "That's blackmail, you know," he whispered. Then, quickly, so he wouldn't have to listen to himself saying it, "I'm sorry I was rude, everyone." Then, turning back to Harry, he said "Now get me out of here!"
It was a long way from being a heartfelt apology, but he had said the words, which in itself was a huge concession. So sweeping Draco off the bed, Harry gave into his need for his mate, and headed for one of the hospital wing's private rooms, announcing "Honeymoon syndrome! Don't wait up!" He heard a couple of fake retching sounds, and at least one small cheer, before the door closed behind them, but nobody followed.

Harry let Draco's legs swing to the floor, allowing him to pull the blond into a firm embrace; lips meeting, parting, tongues entwining, breath mingling. Then in a flurry of activity, they divested each other of their clothing. Draco fell back onto the bed, pulling Harry down on top of him. He was in no mood for gentle love play. With the stability of his world having just been rocked to its foundations, he needed to know, in the worst way, that he was still wanted; that he had a place. He needed to be claimed, owned, possessed. Harry gave him that, and with the deep, boundless love freely given, it was so much more.
When they were sated, Draco looked up at Harry, his arms locked around the Gryffindor's neck, and whispered "That was even better than last night," then dragged Harry down for a long, lingering kiss. But he felt Harry's sudden disquiet. "Harry? What's wrong?"
"That was two nights ago, Drae," Harry whispered.
Memories came flooding back, and Draco paled. With his already pale skin, it almost seemed he would turn transparent. Scared that his mate would go into shock again, Harry hugged him tightly, kissing him over and over, and assuring him they could make it through anything together. A dam broke in Draco's heart; another of the many barriers that he'd erected over the years to deal with the abuse and loneliness he'd suffered during his life crumbling, and he wept, copiously. The relief he felt at the release of the pressure such barriers create was almost as great as the sorrow he could now admit he felt. They had been heartless monsters, but they had still been his parents. Now there was no hope that they could ever change and give him the love he craved; the love that only his Harry had ever given, and was still giving: and he wept for that, as well.
The shocks and revelations had seemed never to stop that day; yesterday. The Ministry of Magic would be seizing all Malfoy assets. The discovery of certain papers found during a search of the property after Narcissa Malfoy's murder had proven that Lucius Malfoy had been the de facto head of the Death Eaters, the wizarding world's version of the American Muggle's Ku Klux Klan, so his property was forfeit. The Ministry wasn't completely heartless, however. They allowed Draco, with Harry's help, to recover his personal belongings from his rooms at the manor, but nothing from elsewhere. But due to Lucius not having had time to completely disown him, he still had his name; small comfort that it gave him.
Lucius' death wouldn't affect the Death Eaters too badly, unfortunately, as their organization was set up almost as loosely as the aforesaid KKK, with member 'cells' acting almost, but not quite, independently. They would carry on; although, perhaps, not quite so efficiently.
When Harry had asked why the senior Malfoy would kill his wife, Draco had reminded him of the last words Lucius had said in the conference room: "There are no animals in my family line." Since Draco was a quarter Veela, his mother had to have been half Veela, or had cheated on Lucius with someone who was. Either would have been reason enough for the elder Malfoy to resort to murder, to assuage his injured pride. "Mother mentioned to me, once, that she and I shared a 'special' heritage, but she would never explain that to me. It's obvious now, of course," Draco had confessed.
"And?" Harry had prompted.
"My father is - was - a purist, Harry," Draco had said. "Anyone not of 100% wizard lineage was dirt to him. You know that. So what would he think of non-humans? Then he discovers he's married to one, been intimate with her - 'it', to his mind - and sired a child with it. He would think he had to kill her in order to try to purify himself, if only by a little. I'm surprised he didn't try to kill me, to wipe out the evidence."
Harry had wanted to remind him of the protective wards that Dumbledore had placed around them, but had resisted. It wouldn't have helped.

That was yesterday. Well, part of it. All those Ministry officials questioning him over and over, even under Veritaserum, and Harry, beloved Harry, hovering over him, protecting him, refusing to leave him alone with them. And there hadn't been a thing they could do about it. A Veela bond-mating of any degree was protected to the hilt by law, even unto having special privileges, such as a waiver of age of consent laws, ability to marry, independence upon application, and others. They were, in the minds of most, a valuable addition to the magic levels of the wizarding world. True, this bonding was highly unusual, since both were part Veela, and not just one, and both were male, but... But that was beside the point. Harry had protected him - made him feel valued, just for himself. That was worth more than any amount of heritage or material goods. And Harry's love was safer to build upon, to depend upon. Draco could see that, today.
"Draco, love," Harry whispered, "are you okay, now?"
Draco leaned over and kissed him. "I'm getting there, Harry; I'm getting there. Just keep being there for me."
"Always, sweetheart," Harry said, risking being accused of sappiness again. It didn't come. Draco just snuggled in closer. Harry wondered at the almost complete transformation of his mate's character. The snarkiness, sneering, arrogance; all the negative qualities he'd known for over four years were, if not gone, at least severely diminished, and almost never shown to him, personally. But for Draco's personality change to be so drastic, a lot of that earlier nastiness had to have been assumed, rather than real. That was reassuring, in a way. Of course the last couple of months hadn't left Harry untouched, either. His brooding over past mistakes, real or imagined, his uncertainties; all seemed so trivial, so childish, now. That wasn't to say he was suddenly trouble free, but now his worries weren't so self-centred.
"Should we see if anyone's still out there? I can't believe we - I - just left them like that!" Harry said. "Still, it's not as if there wasn't very good reason," he said more softly, kissing his mate. He frowned. "And we have yet to find out where we go from here, since we don't have enough wizarding magic to do anything with, and Hogwarts can't help us learn to use whatever kind of magic we do have."
"You really don't think Pomfrey made a mistake, do you? You don't think it's temporary?" Draco half-stated.
Harry shook his head. "As Madam Pomfrey said, we've both been in this infirmary often enough over the past few years. Do you think she could make a mistake like that?"
Draco's heart sank. "No, you're right. I don't." He wasn't looking forward to yet more changes. Too damned much had happened to him - to them - in too short a time. Would it ever end?
"I don't remember showers in here, and we're rather...messy," Draco said, abruptly changing the subject.
"You're right, love. No showers. We'll just have to clean ourselves up as best we can and hope for a long, hot shower later."
Less than ten minutes later they returned to the main room to find, unsurprisingly, that the only one anywhere in the vicinity was Poppy. "You two were quite...vocal, I'm afraid," she explained, blushing. It must have been catching, because certain Gryffindor and Slytherin men in the vicinity were suddenly quite red, as well. "The headmaster said you could return to your rooms and have your meeting with him in his office at half ten," Poppy said, grinning through her embarrassment.
"Um... Thank you, Poppy. Please accept our apologies, and extend them to the others, if we don't get the chance to?" Harry requested.
Poppy Pomfrey must have had some inkling of what he was thinking, if she wasn't fully informed, because she asked no questions; just smiled and nodded, and made 'shooing' motions at them.

Once in their rooms, they made short work of disrobing and getting into the shower.
The hot water was soothing as it pounded on tight muscles, relaxing tensions neither had fully realised were there. Harry turned Draco's back to him once they were both thoroughly soaked, poured a liberal amount of shampoo into his hands, and applied it to the thick mane of platinum-blond hair before him. His hands were gentle as he massaged his lover's scalp, careful not to tangle the long, blond locks, and he occasionally planted a kiss on the slender, pale neck. When he rinsed the shampoo out, he got a handful of Draco's elf-made hair conditioner, made of a whipped mixture of oil, raw eggs, honey, bergamot, and aloe vera, worked it through thoroughly just as gently as he had the shampoo, then rinsed that out as well, before lovingly washing every square centimetre of his lithe mate, not ignoring, but not giving any more special attention to his lover's erect member than any other part of his body, except for the quick kiss to its head that he couldn't quite resist. He was building up the tension, the expectation, as well as thoroughly enjoying an intimacy that wasn't all about sex, but getting comfortable and familiar with each other. It definitely helped that they had satisfied most of those more base urges earlier, in the private room in the infirmary.
Draco returned the gesture, but of course had to add his own twist to it, reaching around Harry to wash his front, instead of turning him around, and pressing himself closely to Harry's back, his erect member pressing along the crack of Harry's arse, but he let it go at that, not making any other suggestive moves. When he did act, just after he'd finished washing his love, there was nothing suggestive about it - it was downright blatant. Draco put his arms around Harry's neck, getting a good grip while attempting to snog his mate senseless, then jumped up, wrapping his legs high on Harry's waist, reaching below himself for a good grip, and then lowering himself, impaling himself on Harry's cock. The only thing that made such a mating possible was their unusual strength, and as they found out, endurance. 'Sex for the Rest of Us' had mentioned this manoeuvre as a possible start for intercourse, but in the normal course of things, completion meant finding a stable surface to allow leverage. Harry grabbed Draco's thighs and buttocks, and slowly began the ages-old motions, slowly building the tempo as their need grew, until their orgasms took them into ecstasy, and a fleeting vision of dragons was shared between them.
After rinsing off, drying each other, and getting dressed, they were hungry, so called Dobby.
Dobby performed his obeisance, then asked "Yes, Master Harry? What can Dobby do for the master?"
Harry frowned. "Dobby, you haven't called me 'master' since I helped you become free. It's always been 'mister' or just 'Harry Potter'; so why are you calling me 'master' again, and why all the bowing? You are not a slave."
Dobby hung his head a moment, then raised it proudly. "Yes! Dobby is free! But Harry Potter is Master! Harry Potter has the power! He is royalty!"
"Dobby, have you been into the cooking sherry?" Harry asked, shocked at this declaration.
"No, Master Harry, Dobby does not drink!"
"Then will you please explain yourself? What you're saying is totally insane!" Harry exclaimed. "I need to sit down. Dobby, draw up a stool." Harry sat, even his strength having been tested by his athletic mating with Draco, and drew Draco down onto his lap, but Dobby respectfully declined a seat.
As Dobby's explanation unfolded, both boys' eyes became huge. House elves were amongst the most lowly of the elf races, they were told. What was not widely known was that Veelas were the highest, and that there were two castes of Veela; the common Veela and Noble Veela, just as there were common vampires and Noble Vampires; the difference being that common vampires could be made by the bite of another vampire of either class, but Noble Vampires, and Veela of both sorts, were only born. On rare occasion, a Noble Veela and a Noble Vampire might mate and produce an offspring, but those relationships never lasted. The offspring were always especially powerful, however, and were trained to be leaders; the virtual, if not actual 'royalty' of the Vampire races if the mother had been Vampire, or of the elven races, if the mother had been Veela; the mother determining the strongest genetic line. That such 'royalty' would, or could, show up amongst humans was so outside the pale that Harry hadn't been recognised for who and what he was until he showed a trace of his power in the infirmary, against Madam Pomfrey.

"You're having me on," Harry accused weakly, his face pale.
Dobby threw himself on the floor and started beating his head against it. "No, Master Harry, please! Dobby not do that to his only friend!" He then squeaked, and started hitting his head harder. " Dobby be sorry for presuming friendship with royalty, Master Harry. Please don't hurt Dobby!"
"Dobby, stop that! I don't want you hurting yourself! And of course you're my friend! If this is all true, and I don't think you'd lie to me," Harry added quickly, as Dobby seemed about to go back to beating his head on the stone floor, "I'll need someone to inform me of what I..." Harry paused. "Dobby, what of Draco?"
"Mister Draco be honoured mate of Master Harry," Dobby said, looking confused.
Harry's mind had been working at a furious pace. "Draco, I'm not exactly sure what's going on, here, but we might need some extra protections and guarantees so we can't be parted. I know it's not the most romantic way to ask, but will you marry me?" Harry asked.
Dobby looked on with his mouth hanging wide open, bug-eyes bugged out, against all odds, even further. A palpable tension filled the air, as though the universe itself awaited the answer.
Draco stared into his mate's softly glowing eyes. "Damn, Harry. You don't do things by halves, do you?" he said softly. "I only have one question: who's the queen in this relationship? Only it surely isn't going to be me!" Draco teased. "Oh, bloody hell!" he exclaimed, throwing caution to the winds. "Measure me up for a wedding dress! Yes!" he exclaimed, grinning.
Harry kissed him soundly before turning back to Dobby, who was grinning from ear to ear - literally. "Dobby, is there elvish custom and protocol I - we - need to follow? A special ceremony?"
Dobby nodded, again serious. "Yes, Master Harry. Very special ceremony."
"Nothing else, though?"
"No, Master Harry."
"How much do I have to do myself, and how much could I ask you to arrange for me?" Harry asked.
Dobby's eyes grew even bigger. "The Master would trust Dobby to arrange his marriage for him?"
"Dobby, I know nothing of what is customary, allowed, or mandatory. I would expect you to teach Draco and me everything we need to know, and to consult us on those things for which there are choices - but otherwise, yes. I assume part of that would be informing all of the elvish races of the event, and finding a suitable officiator for the ceremony?"

Dobby nodded. "Yes, Master."
"We need to tell everyone here, and arrange a human marriage as well, just so we have all possibilities covered. For now, I think we should keep this 'royalty' thing a secret from all the humans. We'll just say that we want an elvish ceremony, as well. Other than that, Dobby, you can get started with what you need to do as soon as it's convenient, and after Draco and I have had supper, if you please."
"Would this be a good time to ask for my steak and lobster supper?" Draco asked, smirking.
Harry's laugh was so loud and raucous Draco had to cover his ears, but he was grinning widely, just the same. He got his special meal.

"...so when Dobby heard me propose, and heard Draco agree, he told us that since we were both part Veela, we could have an elvish ceremony as well, if we wanted one. We like the idea. Of course we still want a civil ceremony, and we'd be honoured if you'd officiate for that," Harry told Dumbledore. "Aside from the fact that we do wish to be married, regardless, we figured it might help give us some legal protection regarding each other."

Dumbledore nodded, the twinkle in his eyes almost glittering. 'Shite! Now what?' Harry thought.
'I wish I knew. Wouldn't it be fantastic if we could read other people's thoughts, too? Draco replied.
'Did I think that out loud? Never mind. Doesn't matter. Yes, it would be. You never know if he's just happy, or if he's planning something. And with this whole elves thing, I have to think he's planning something. Me and my big mouth!'
"So just what deviltry are you planning now, Headmaster?" Draco asked casually. For all that they were so closely bonded, a completely unplanned action by one could take the other by surprise, and Harry certainly was.
"Pardon?" that worthy asked.
"Your eyes. They always give you away." Draco turned to Harry. "Harry, I think we should re-think this elven marriage. Not re-think having it, just where we have it, and who attends."
Dumbledore sighed. "Very well, I won't invite my colleagues."
Harry looked at the old man, his eyes a hard gold, voice cold, as he said "If you believe you have the right to invite anyone to another's wedding, then Draco is right; we will not be having it here, or anywhere on Hogwarts property. Nor will you officiate at our civil wedding."
Dumbledore wilted. "It was presumptuous of me. But in my defence, this school is under my management, and you two are still pupils here."
"Since when, Professor? Our magic is not of a kind you can help us learn, remember?" Harry's voice was hard, and his eyes were beginning to look molten.
'Harry, your eyes are starting to turn, again. Control, Harry,' Draco projected.
Harry took a couple of deep breaths. 'Thank you, love.'
"Let's see what Dobby thinks of the Forbidden Forest," Harry said to his mate. "Good day, Headmaster."
They ignored his half-hearted attempts to retain his dignity and apologise as they walked out of his office and returned to their rooms.
"Not a bad man, Dumbledore, but entirely too controlling and manipulative. Imagine! Trying to use our wedding to gain prestige for himself!" Harry complained to Draco back in their apartment, wondering at the nerve of the man.
"Harry?"
"Yes, love?"
"Shut up, and kiss me."
Harry grinned, and complied.

Two weeks later, Dobby said he'd taught them everything they'd need to know for the ceremony (which actually wasn't much), and that everything was set for that. The only problem was that humans wouldn't be allowed to attend. To that end, an honour escort of house elves would take them to the appointed spot immediately after the human civil ceremony.
A ceremonial marriage is a grand thing full of pomp, and sealed with a spell that binds the couple together. Already being bound, Draco and Harry didn't need this, nor the stress and publicity that went along with such a ceremony. A civil ceremony, on the other hand, was little more than a legalised statement of intent to be a married couple. Since they were already more 'married' than most who merely went through a ceremony, the civil service was merely a formality, albeit one that provided legal protections.
Harry relented and let Dumbledore perform the civil ceremony, but not within Hogwarts itself. It was held on the banks of the lake, where both Draco and he had spent many an hour in contemplation over their years at the school - at different times, of course. Attendees were many, although perhaps not what one would have expected. Those already in the know about the two were there, of course, plus a handful more that each thought should be invited (Draco couldn't help but invite Pansy Parkinson, just to drive it home that he'd never be hers), but the majority were the Hogwarts house elves.
Draco did not, of course, wear a wedding dress. In recognition of their ambiguous relationship both with the school and the wizarding world, yet not wishing to associate themselves too closely with the Muggle world, both Harry and Draco wore traditional Scottish dress rather than robes, or trousered suits. They looked quite handsome in their formal, steel-gray kilts, with the ruffles of their shirts pushing through the matching short-coats. After too many speeches by too many people, the ceremony was a simple one, consisting of little more than "Let all here witness that the two people standing before you here, today, have consented to spend the rest of their years in wedded bliss as loving partners and mates. Harry James Potter, is this your intent and will?" At a firmly stated assent, he asked "Draco Aloysius Malfoy, is this your intent and will?" And with his equally firm statement of resolve, Dumbledore said, "It is customary at this time to offer the couple the chance for one or both to change their name. Is this an option of which you wish to partake?"
'What the blazes? The bastard never told us about that! Did you know about it?' Harry asked Draco, incensed.
'I... Yes, but I didn't recall it, until now!' Draco replied.
'He's done this on purpose, so we'd be less likely to do it. Can't stop manipulating and controlling, the old git! So what should we do?' Harry asked, fuming.
'How do you feel about becoming the second Mr. Malfoy?' Draco asked.
'It would serve him right, luv, but I'm afraid that your father has rather tainted the name. No, I think rather than your name or mine, we should try to think of a third option. I'm tired of being fawned over because of my name.'
'While being smack behind being fawned over for other reasons, of course,' Draco thought, facetiously.
'Of course!' Harry thought back, playfully winking at his love.

Harry felt a timid tug on his kilt, and looked down to see Dobby staring up at him. "Master Harry, sir, Dobby knows a name the Master might like. An old name of great honour." Draco bent down to listen as well. Dobby whispered it in their ears.

'D'Lumière? That means "of the light", doesn't it?' Harry asked.
'Yes. And I think it's a good name, Harry,' Draco asserted.
'Do you want to change first names, too? It seems like I'm the only "Harry" in the wizarding world, and I'd like to escape all the fame and hero shite. I think I'd like to take the name "Conall". It means "strong in battle",' Harry thought, diffidently.
'What are you hiding, Harry?' Draco asked.
'Well, it also means "high" as in 'important' or 'highly placed', and "mighty",' Harry admitted, with a sly grin.
'If you take that name, I'll just call you "Con",' Draco retorted, thinking of the type of low-life called a 'confidence man'.
Happy that Draco hadn't nixed the idea out of hand, Harry's ebullience overflowed. 'Why, thank you, love! That means "wise"!'

Draco groaned, but thought of what first name he'd like to take with his beloved. 'Drake D'Lumière,' Draco thought. 'I like the sound of that. You gave it to me, it's close to my own name, so I won't have trouble getting used to it, and it means essentially the same thing - dragon.'

'Sounds good to me, love. Shall we rock the old man's world?'

'Let us do!' Draco quipped.

"We've been thinking of this ever since we decided to marry," Harry lied smoothly, "but Dobby just had to remind us because of our wedding jitters; so yes, we do wish to take advantage of that custom, in honour of our new lives." Harry enjoyed the look of shock on Dumbledore's face. "My name will be Conall D'Lumière," he announced.

"And mine will be Drake D'Lumière," Draco added.

Red-faced, Dumbledore glared at the pair while he concluded the ceremony, making the wedding legal and final, the name changes official, and sending off the requisite copies of notification to the Ministry of Magic, Vital Statistics Division.

Dobby beamed, proud that his suggestion had been accepted and used, although he hadn't been expecting the change of first name, either.

The newly-dubbed Conall and Drake D'Lumière turned to their friends and witnesses; Harry, now Conall, making the announcement. Raising his hands to get everyone's attention, he went on to explain, at least mostly truthfully, "I'm sorry if the name change came as a shock to all of you, but we had our reasons for not telling anyone. This was a decision made and kept between Drake and I, so please don't feel slighted that you weren't told; nobody was. Most of you are like family to us, and like most close family, you feel you have the right to second-guess and argue the decisions made by those you care about." Here, Conall cast meaningful looks at Ron and Hermione. They blushed a bit, but Ron, especially, looked stubbornly back at him. "As much as we appreciate the love and caring this can show, we are quite capable of making reasoned decisions, and did not feel like arguing about this one. There were, and are, very good reasons for our decision. I'm sure if you think about it, you will realise at least some of them. And now, I'm afraid that we must leave you, at least for a time. We have another ceremony to attend which, I'm sorry to say, was by invitation only."

'That speech was worthy of a Slytherin, Har- Conall,' Drake said, 'Such a mixture of truths, half-truths and ambiguities! I'm almost impressed!'

Conall grinned. 'Well, the Sorting Hat did want to put me in Slytherin, but I wanted to stay with my new friend, Ron, so requested Gryffindor. I was mostly thankful for being placed there, but I've often wondered why it listened to me.'

Drake kicked his partner's ankle, on the sly, for the implied slight. Still, this revelation was somewhat enlightening.

A band of six house elves, including Dobby and Jinkies, had been making their way to, and surrounding, the newlyweds. "Is Master Harry-" Dobby stopped as he remembered the name change, and looked for a moment as though he'd start looking for a way to punish himself for the oversight; but for once, he didn't. "Dobby sorry: Is Master Conall and Mister Drake being ready?"

With a glance at Drake for agreement, Conall said "Yes, Dobby. A bit nervous, I think, but ready. And thank you for the name."

Dobby grinned again, and bowed.

The house elves clustered closely around the young men, linking with each other, hand to shoulder at arm's length, but without touching the newly-named Conall and Drake. At some indefinable sign there was a loud *pop*, and the group was gone. As if that were a signal, the rest of the house elves present started popping out, with a sound like a large string of firecrackers going off. Soon the area was empty, except for a small group of very stunned humans.
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Light of Heaven