Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Night Flight	By : Massanie Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 77567 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 30
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me and I'm not making any money with this story

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
CHAPTER NOTES:

Thank you all for your reviews, they really meant much to me! You guys are wonderful, truly!

I hope you enjoy the chapter...

Blaise still smirked as he closed the door behind himself and his fiancé. "Merlin, I have half a mind to go back in there and ravish him right in front of his friends."

With an exasperated eye-roll, Draco turned and started to walk away to the conference room, leaving it to the dark skinned Italian to follow him; they had a meeting scheduled with their parents after all and practically no time to lose, having lost so much with the Weasel. "You wouldn't, Blaise. You are many things, but an exhibitionist, you're not."

Laughing, Blaise fell into step with the blond. "Do I hear a bit of wistfulness?"

Draco sniffed. "I'm a Malfoy!"

Whether that meant that a Malfoy would never willingly indulge in such behaviour or that he could not because it would harm the praised Malfoy reputation and (therefore) pride beyond repair, he didn't specify. But he didn't need to, either; Blaise knew that it was a bit of both ... but to an astoundingly large proportion the latter. It was always a source of amusement to him that his prim and proper fiancé, Draco Malfoy, pureblood heir of such an illustrious family, was just as much a pervert as everyone else, even though he usually pretended to be so superior and sovereign.

Maybe that was the reason he loved to make Draco become human once in a while, too, when they were just with each other. And yesterday it seemed he had discovered just the perfect way to do that.

Merlin, that fierce expression when he had met his Dragon right after Harry had left him standing alone in the corridor and he had told his blond lover that he had kissed another man, kissed their not so submissive submissive, thereby stealing the march on Draco... priceless. And that was saying a lot when one was as comfortably off as the heir to the wealth of the Zabini family and a good part of the Lanai fortune and additionally the fiancé of the sole Malfoy heir.

FLASHBACK

Quite unexpectedly they had met in that same corridor, Blaise just making to return to their rooms for a shower and Draco coming from his meeting with Adler to do Merlin-knows-what, still wearing a somewhat tense expression, the source of which the Italian had not yet known. Blaise could only speculate as to how he must have looked like to his fiancé as the blonde, with the sharpness of a Vykélari's enhanced sight, took in his mussed appearance, flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

In any case, Draco had halted in his steps the moment he laid eyes upon him and for a few timeless seconds they had just stared at each other in expectant silence, like two predators about to throw themselves into a territorial fight and Blaise had had the sudden urge to spread his wings and screech a warning at the other dominant to retreat. That same need was reflected in the flexing of Draco's shoulders and the miniscule tightening of his eyes.

Of course he had known that it was wrong, that the dominant in front of him was not vying with him for the same submissive, but allying with him; and more than that, he had known that he loved this pale haired, pale eyed, pale skinned and pale winged Vykélari, that he never ever should want to see him leave, but on some unconscious level and for a single moment the magic induced high that played his instincts like a lover would a well-known body, rippled through his thoughts like a reverberating echo and made him want to be the sole mate of the one he had tasted just now.

Then rationality won and lucidity flashed through him like a lightning bolt. Blaise's head twitched to the side, even if his gaze never wavered from Draco's beautiful, hawk-like expression. It was a barely perceptible movement, controlled before it could really be implemented, but it was enough to break the tension.

Draco's posture relaxed slightly, also sensing the shift in the atmosphere and he took a step forward towards his fiancé.

"I've kissed him." Blaise had said out of the blue, totally straight up and soberly, in answer to the unvoiced question in Draco's gaze, while he followed the other's movements with unblinking, desiring eyes. That pale, well-sculptured body that he had come to know so well and intimately.

Again Draco paused in his steps, his eyes widening just a fraction and his nostrils flaring ever so slightly, but he stayed silent nonetheless, and so Blaise elaborated, hunting for a reaction beyond the boundaries of Draco's tight control.

"He was agitated because he thought you might want him gone from the manor since you didn't like the nature of the bond."

Draco tilted his head slowly and came closer again, his lips twitching in something that might have been a smirk but could just as well have been a snarl. And Blaise knew that his lover was irritated, with himself for having misjudged the situation and the effects of his behaviour on Harry, with the situation as a whole, with Blaise for kissing their young Vykélari submissive...

"And you comforted him?"

"More or less." Blaise answered, the corners of his lips curling upwards, thrilled by the sizzling tension in the air around them, not yet willing to interrupt and destroy whatever game they were playing by confessing what Harry had done behind their backs; not when Draco was so beautiful in front of him in that cold, steely, sharp way of his, moving steadily forwards like a white-furred nundu on a hunt; not when Blaise himself still felt an echo of Harry's lips, of his hands against his chest and his trousers were still uncomfortably tight.

And well, since he didn't have to fight this dominant for their submissive and said submissive was neither here nor willing to help him release all the pent-up tension, he'd need another way.

And Draco was sooo good in that.

"You should have seen him," he goaded further, "all wide-eyed and beautiful, those green feathers ruffling up his hair, soft like downs."

Of course that wasn't everything there was to the story and Harry's nervousness and wariness, his vulnerability towards the influence of his own and Blaise's magic was like a menacing wraith hovering in the back of his mind, stinging his conscience. But it was a topic for later and easily pushed aside as Draco, with the grace of a dancer, or an experienced fighter perhaps, backed him against the corridor's wall, Blaise allowing himself to be lead.

"Tempting." Draco murmured, lips close to Blaise's, dark and pale eyes clashing, as he deliberately left the other wondering if the comment was meant for him or the image of their submissive that the Italian had conjured.

"You have no idea..." Blaise murmured with a lazy smirk and an air of superiority fleetingly flashing over his expression, knowing it would tick the blonde off.

Fingers pressed against his throat then in retaliation, sharp, claw-like nails threatening the delicate skin; not enough to draw blood or to hamper his breathing, but enough to be felt a little bit more with every excited beat of his heart echoing through his carotid, every intake of breath. And this time there really was a snarl distorting Draco's lips. But Blaise didn't back away and didn't try to break the other dominant's hold on him, encountering the intense stare evenly, challengingly.

"Tell me!" Draco growled, leaning in to nuzzle the juncture between Blaise's neck and his shoulder, deft fingers pushing aside the soft fabric of his shirt, only for sharp teeth to graze the vulnerable, newly bared skin.

"Tell me how he tasted, how his magic felt like... tell me!"

Hissing at a particularly vicious bite, Blaise let his head fall back against the wall and closed his eyes, both from his lover's cruel teeth and hot lips pursuing the pulse beat at his throat and the kiss that he remembered all too well.

A breathy laugh broke from his lips. "I won't ever have a problem with my Patronus again, that's for – Ah!" Blaise cried out as Draco bit down too hard and drew blood and he viciously tugged at the soft, platinum strands in revenge.

"Fuck, Draco!"

But the blonde only pulled Blaise's hand out of his hair and pressed it above the Italian's head against the rough wallpaper.

"I will!" he promised against the dark skin, his free hand fumbling with the button of Blaise's trousers, relishing in the almost, almost perfectly suppressed groan that action elicited from his quiet lover. Thirsty for more of that sweet sound, Draco yanked at the trousers, eager to get them down, get them off; that unpractical, damnable, blasted, totally useless barrier, those outrageously expensive tailor-made pants that at this very moment were nothing more than a tremendously annoying hindrance to him.

He might have reached for his wand to vanish them altogether, had Blaise not grabbed his collar and pulled him in for a harsh, forceful kiss, teeth clashing almost painfully against his as the Italian sought to take the control that up to this moment had almost solely lain in Draco's hands.

But not this time.

Pretending to yield, the blonde let go of his darker fiancé, relaxing into his kiss, into his hold, waiting until the lips upon his gentled and moved with more finesse, nipping and suckling at his lower lip to get him to open, both his mouth and himself, to the sensual onslaught.

Draco could have blissfully contented himself with such a sweet surrender, but not after having seen his lover flaunt his most recent activities so brazenly. Draco didn't want to even think about what it might have cost them, what abyss Blaise's actions might have opened between them and Harry, the bridges over which Draco would have to build with much patience and care, especially after what Adler had just told him. It made him so fucking angry ... and a bit vengeful, too.

And god dammit, he was jealous! Jealous of Blaise for having stolen what Draco had assumed would naturally be his to take, if one of them would ever get close enough to the younger submissive so that Harry would consent to something as innocent as a kiss. Had he not told his Italian lover that very first afternoon here how he wanted to kiss him? Taste his magic and feel his lips, the lithe body trembling in his arms...

Suppressing a growl, Draco waited for the right moment, when Blaise had released his collar and was sufficiently distracted, then he quickly grabbed his lover's wrist and twirled him around to press him face first against the wall, twisting his arm behind the Italian's strong back to the music of a sharp outcry of surprise and discomfort.

Within a moment he had yanked the offending trousers down sufficiently, baring lean hips, strong thighs, twitching muscles and oh so wonderfully, luxuriously smooth skin that just begged him for a more thorough exploration; but as soon as his fingers glided over the side of Blaise's leg upwards, the Italian started to struggle against his hold and Draco had to press his whole body flush against his lover's to keep him in his grip.

"Shhh" he hissed against the dark curls after a few minutes of inconclusive wriggling and struggling and he finally managed to sneak his free hand around his lover's waist and to his raging erection without him escaping. Blaise hissed and shuddered as the lean, warm fingers closed around his shaft, caressing the silken skin, then tightening their hold, slowly pumping him with firm, even strokes.

"Stay still and I'll reward you, beloved..." He promised with a silken murmur, nuzzling the strong neck with half closed eyes. God, how he loved that scent; it made him want to devour and he took his time to worship and seek out every sensitive point he knew of, licking, nibbling and kissing along his lover's neck until it wasn't enough anymore, neither for him nor for Blaise.

Gently, Draco bit down on the muscles and flesh at the juncture of Blaise's neck and shoulder as a last warning to stay in place before he moved back a bit and released his lover's arm, to unzip his own trousers and push down his briefs just enough to free his own engorged, swollen flesh, a low moan escaping his lips as the pressure from the unforgiving fabric eased.

For a moment he contemplated taking out his wand for a stretching and lubrication charm and just plunging into the tempting tightness in one firm push; but then again, Blaise had had enough of magical pleasure for one day... and sometimes it was more satisfying to use other, more pleasurably torturous means.

And he wanted to see the dark Italian come undone in his arms.

Moving forward again, Draco leaned against his lover, putting his free hands over the dark ones that fanned out over the wall, rubbing his erection teasingly against that crack where he'd bury himself soon, letting Blaise feel all of him.

"Did you touch him?" He asked in a low murmur, deceptively gently nibbling at the other young man's earlobe as he rocked against him, making him shudder and arch into his movements.

"I know how your hands wander when you kiss..."

With a sudden shake of his head, Blaise freed his abused ear and flashed the blonde a nasty, burning look over his shoulder. "He broke away first."

Draco chuckled. It hadn't been a very long kiss then. Maybe it was petty, but he did feel a little bit assuaged at that and in a show of his approval he rewarded the dark skinned Italian by once again closing the fingers of his right hand around his lover's agonizingly swollen shaft, starting to stroke and tease the engorged, hot flesh in his hand, every once in a while pausing to caress the weeping tip with his thumb in slow circles, gathering the precome and spreading it over Blaise's erection as he did so.

"Feels good?" A low, amused whisper against a sensitive ear and predictably Blaise's eyes flashed in indignation and he reached back for his lover and pulled him close by his soft, silken strands; turning, twisting his own upper body to encounter the pale lips with the ferociousness that Draco seemed to be after.

But he had to break away soon, successfully distracted and overwhelmed by the hand moving quicker up and down his over-sensitive, pulsing flesh, making his breath come in short, ragged gasps of intense pleasure.

Intently staring at his lover's tight expression, the dark eyes still turned towards him, pupils blown and full of fire, Draco raised his other hand and sucked two of his fingers into his mouth, teasingly swirling his tongue around the digits, coating them with his saliva. All the while Blaise watched him, lips parting in a silent moan of pleasure both from the show Draco put on for his sake and the unrelenting hand fisting his straining erection fervently.

Then, with a teasing smirk, Draco brought his wet fingers down, pushing them in between the crack of Blaise's cheeks, quickly locating the puckered entrance, so inadequately guarded from him by only two rings of muscles.

Without hesitation, Draco thrust the two digits in, up to his knuckles, groaning as he felt the inner walls clutch at him tightly, his own erection throbbing with the desire to have that vice-like grip there. Blaise hissed and panted as the roughness and burn of the sudden entrance mixed with the pleasure, only fuelling it and he gravitated towards his lover's presence as Draco pressed an open-mouthed kiss onto his shoulder.

For a long moment they were both still, then Draco pulled his fingers back slowly only to thrust them in again viciously, repeating the movement again and again, then curving them just so until the sudden shudder that went through Blaise's whole body told him unquestionably that he had found what he had searched.

Hungrily Draco took in the sight of the slightly curly, dark shock of hair falling forward with a grown, finding comfort in the coolness of the wall; he drunk in the quiet moans, relished in the movements of Blaise's hip that the Italian fought so much to suppress but couldn't, helpless to keep still, his hip moving forward into Draco's fist and back again onto his fingers scraping over his prostrate.

A shudder, a tightening of muscles as if in agony, a low moan and Blaise came in Draco's hand, the pale fingers moving forward to catch the pearly liquid spurting out. His other arm wound around his lover's torso, pulling the dark, unresisting body against his chest to offer some support even if it might not be needed. But he relished in the heaving of Blaise's ribcage that he could feel so much better in this position and in the still frantic pounding of the heart that he had claimed, reflected in the rapid, rhythmic movement of the carotid that was beating there so close to Draco's own lips beneath a thin layer of sweat covered skin.

His doing.

But Draco's own erection was almost painfully hard by now, straining against his lover's behind and weeping onto his lower back. And he hadn't more of a few moments of patience in him before he moved back a little bit, enough to coat his thrumming flesh with the sticky substance on his fingers.

"My turn..."

"No."

Burning, black eyes met molten mercury over a dark skinned shoulder and Blaise quickly turned around; Draco let him, because even though sex between them sometimes became a violent battle for dominance, there was still an unvoiced line never to be crossed. Choice.

That didn't mean that Draco's eyes didn't flash with irritation and challenge and demand, that they were only slightly assuaged by the still lustful gaze they encountered.

"Want to see you..." With that growled explanation the Italian hooked one leg behind Draco's knee and pulled him closer, holding onto his shoulder and using the wall as leverage to push himself up and wrap his legs around his lovers pale waist.

And Draco had to admit, that this was even better, seeing that strong jaw tense, those lips open in a silent scream as he pushed in with one quick thrust, gravity and Blaise's weight assisting him in the less than gentle invasion.

"So tight" he groaned, marvelling at how much more tightly his lover's muscle's squeezed him with the scanty makeshift lubrication. It was only made worse (or better) by the rhythmic clenching and unclenching as Blaise teased him with a lewd grin, even though he had to be in pain from the sudden stretching. But Merlin, if he didn't stop his tantalizing movements, Draco would come right then and there.

"Stop that..." he moaned.

"What Draco ... no control at all?" Blaise laughed at him breathlessly.

Damn that stupid, arrogant, bastardly ... that's it!

With a sharp twist of his hips, Draco drove deeply into his lover, watching with satisfaction as the dark one's muscles tensed and he arched against him, head thrown back and he set a ruthless, relentless pace of brutal thrusts while Blaise clutched at his shoulders, fingers digging into his flesh.

Merlin, this was heavenly, the way those long legs and arms latched on to him, Blaise's expression tense and distorted in mindless pleasure, his passage clenching and quivering around him while he pinned him to the wall, thrusting savagely into his body. Fire kindled in his groin and burned its way up into his stomach, his body, searing his nerves, making him moan and pant and the fibres of his muscles vibrate expectantly.

He could feel Blaise's length, once again stiff and swollen against his stomach and he smirked at the dishevelled look, the dark brown locks, wet with sweat, clinging to his forehead, lips bruised and eyes clenched.

"Beautiful..."

Growling, the Italian pushed forward to lock his lips onto Draco's, kissing him harshly, demandingly with more raw passion than finesse and still, it was nothing less than mind-blowing in both of their maybe not-so-humble opinions.

But they had to break away soon for lack of air and Blaise curled against him a bit more, leaning down to reach his neck and shoulder, sucking angry red marks onto his pale, easily bruising skin, varying his nibbles and bites from soft and tender to hard and ruthless and hurtful.

It was becoming too much, the delicious friction and tightness of his lover's body, the distracting pain in his shoulder, the looks of bliss an lust on Blaise's face whenever he drew away to arch against the wall or collect another of those burning, intense kisses. The throbbing pleasure became all-encompassing and yet he had enough awareness left to know that Blaise was not as far gone yet.

"Touch yourself!" He demanded, ordered, and though his lover's eyes burnt with indignation at his tone of voice, lust and desire and the intense, burning need to come outbalanced everything else. A hand wormed itself between their bodies and started to move up and down the hard length of Blaise's erection quickly, almost desperately. It didn't take long and Draco felt the strong muscle's around him spasm and tighten, so much it almost bordered on painful and his lover's body trembled and arched helplessly as his come splashed on both of their shirts.

And Draco followed suite with a horse cry, milked by the hot, warm passage surrounding him, his release rushing through his body like a shock of lightning and it was all he could do to keep standing and not let him and his lover fall to the ground. He buried his face in the nook of Blaise's shoulder though, panting against the sweat-soaked skin as he rode out his own orgasm, trying to reign in the furious beating of his heart and his still ragged breathing.

Well, that had been ... intense.

Merlin, what would Harry say if he'd seen them, could see them now? Their poor, innocent submissive... he'd probably blush and stammer and fiddle, at a loss of what to do with himself and yet unable to look away.

Because while he wanted to flee them with Ives' help, Draco had seen his reactions to their advances, their touches and flirting, and whenever Harry didn't allow himself to think too much, they were far from repelling.

Too soon his spent erection slipped from his lover's body and, Blaise's legs lowered themselves from around his chest. Reluctantly Draco drew back, pulled out his wand and started to vanish the traces of what had transpired just now. But as he considered removing the marks on Blaise's body and his own with a few minor healing charms, Draco halted. Perhaps it would do Harry good to be confronted with the obvious, undeniable evidence of Blaise's and his relationship.

He knew, Harry had been lying when he had said he wasn't gay – or bi for that matter – but did Harry? He probably hadn't thought much about it so far, and that needed to change if they wanted to win him.

But first it seemed they had to smooth over whatever Blaise had done.

"So." He fixed the Italian with a rigid stare. "Will you tell me now what truly happened?"

END OF FLASHBACK

Blaise silently smirked to himself as he remembered how Harry couldn't help staring at them and his thoughts inevitably returned to his and Draco's current conversation about having others watching them.

It was true that Blaise felt no desire to share his lover in such a way and have other's look at that delectable body with the same desire he felt for him or pure lust... and he had never had the urge to prove to others that Draco was undeniably his, it was enough that they themselves knew it.

But Harry ... while he didn't want anyone but him and Draco to be privileged to the view of the submissive's unique beauty, especially with those markings and feathers adorning him, he definitely wanted everyone to know the young Vykélari was off limits; and he wanted to prove to everyone, Harry's friends included, that the brunet belonged to them and that nobody would ever change that.

Which was irritating, since it wasn't true.

Yet.

And still, Draco was right, Blaise was no exhibitionist and while he might indulge in dreams of devouring Harry's lips in front of his pretentious friends and imagining how they might react to seeing Harry forget himself and the world around him, quivering under Blaise's hands and lips, he wouldn't do it.

He was the heir of a renowned pureblood family after all and he would behave accordingly.

Besides, Harry wouldn't want to be paraded around like that and he deserved more consideration, needed it. Especially after everything that had been revealed to them the previous day.

It certainly had been an unwelcome surprise that Harry wanted to leave, though Blaise sided with Adler's opinion on the matter. During their connections the boy certainly hadn't been tense and wary like one would around one's perceived kidnappers and captors. He had no hard feelings towards them and Blaise had felt that Harry didn't want to leave. It therefore seemed to be the logical explanation that Harry had just needed the security of being able to leave at all at some point of the future, to start trusting them and their guidance right now after his transformation and to allow himself to enjoy his stay in Lanai Manor, enforced however it might have been at the beginning.

The emotions Blaise had sensed during their connection had quietened Draco's concerns somewhat and even appeased him enough to not be overly angry at his fiancé for having lost his control so spectacularly with the younger submissive.

Instead the blonde had voiced his concerns that their own instincts were coming forth more and more, a suspicion he had had since noticing that he wanted to impress and woo the Gryffindor like a displaying bird might do with a prospective mate.

Well, they'd just have to keep an eye on that.

The moment they entered the conference room, Draco knew something was fundamentally, tremendously wrong.

It certainly wasn't anything dramatic, nothing that most people would find suspicious or remarkable anyway. But in a manner it was like the sudden cacophony of flapping and screeching caused by a startled flock of birds that might or might not herald a lethal, hunting beast.

In either case, only someone who had already been made into the prey of the cruellest, most heinous monsters hunting in the Forbidden Forest really learned to react to such an early warning signal – whether it still occurred in that accursed forest or a small piece of woodlands or a marketplace – with a momentary freezing, a mental shutdown after which, if the threat proved real, one panicked and fled mindlessly; but there were also those whose existence reduced itself to logic and cold blooded reason in such a situation – a mind running at full speed – processing the never ending influx of information from adrenaline heightened senses.

And by now Draco had learned that the only thing to be achieved by running was the turning of one's back to the danger. An unforgivable mistake with potentially fatal consequences.

Like the last time they had been in this long stretched galleria, the morning sun falling through the line of tall, wide windows swathed the room in a faintly white-golden, almost surreal glow and threw long shadows onto the pale walls, marbleized with tones of beige and sandstone. And over it all was, resplendent, the assembly of Roman gods, gazing down at them from their aloft position in the breathtaking fresco adorning the arched ceiling.

The two-way-mirror connecting Lanai and Malfoy Manor was also still hovering in the air at the far wall, showing the same parlour of Draco's home where their parents and Severus had last met them and as if they had never left it, all of them sat there enthroned in their respective arm chairs and the only differences indeed were the two missing portraits among the ranks of Malfoy Vykélari as well as the robes that those gathered in the parlour wore.

But it wasn't the familiarity that stroke Draco, that sudden feeling of a Déjà Vu, no, it was the gaze of his mother and her pose; so painfully stiff and tense, as if someone had tried to cast a Body-Bind curse at her that had terribly gone wrong. It was the very same posture that she had almost permanently adapted during those nightmarish months when their home had hosted Death Eaters and the Dark Lord in person, the months when Draco and his parents had almost become prey in their own home, working animals that had served their time and were waiting for their master to make time and butcher them.

Then, his father had still been convinced he could win the Dark Lords favour again, but Narcissa Malfoy had doubted it, known better than to believe in a future at his lordship's side as his trusted servants, bathing in his none-existent grace.

Draco had learned to read her well when she was like this, unaccustomed as he had been to dealing with truly dangerous men; because the little hints she had given him had been, well, not quite vital but at least essential to his well-being.

And now, when he had thought he'd never have to see her again like that, something had put her in that state of fear and determination again. Something had happened, a dreadful, unexpected event that made Narcissa Malfoy, one of the bravest Slytherins he had ever known, fear for the future of their family.

Immediately his brain leapt into action at that early warning signal, trying to dissect his mother's expression into clues to decipher just what was wrong, painstakingly going over everything that might have happened in the last 48 hours to put this tense, cracked inexpressiveness on that proud woman's face.

Had Harry's letter found its way to the public? It was possible, if a bit early. The letter would only just have reached England by now, if the owl was fast and rested only little during the journey.

Or perhaps the Aurors had managed to uncover their – especially his father's – underhanded tactics in the Malfoy trials?

Merlin, that would be disastrous; his father's perpetrations in that matter were as grave as can be: the spying potions used on the three Aurors working on their cases, and the potions intended to make them sympathize with their family, bribery, threats... and damn it, while Draco and his mother had had no part in it, they were at the very least confidants to the Malfoy patriarch's misdeeds.

But maybe it wasn't that dire, certainly that mad sparkle Draco had seen in his father's eyes during the last months of the war would be back again in those silver pools if that were the case. And they were clear of insanity as far as he could judge from this distance, only cold and infuriated.

Had one of the three henchmen his father had employed to keep an eye on the Aurors tried to blackmail them? That certainly would enrage the Malfoy patriarch. But no, no that wasn't very likely; apart from the fact that they, too, had been given that mild variation of a love potion, this was not a matter that money couldn't resolve, nothing that would truly unbalance Narcissa Malfoy.

Which only left Harry's letter.

Draco wasn't sure if Blaise noticed his disquiet or if he had just stood still for too long, but he felt the Italian brush his arm fleetingly in a vague gesture of support and comfort, a gentle reminder of his solid presence, and together they walked along the length of the U-shaped table and the row of stiff chairs, every step that brought them closer revealing more lines of graveness and tension on the faces of people both he and Blaise had thought to be unconquerable not so long a time ago.

Amalyne certainly hid her feelings well, cold and beautiful and untouchable she seemed, just as she had always been. Like a frost covered, Black Baccara Rose she sat there upright and aloof as if whatever problem had arisen had no bearing on her and Draco was forcefully reminded that his future mother-in-law was indeed a murderess who had evaded conviction seven times. So maybe it wasn't surprising that she was still relatively untroubled.

But his godfather was not so unaffected. Even though he rested in his chair like a dark crow passively observing the melodrama of life, with his elbows propped up on the arm rests of his chair and his folded hands hiding his thin lips, the dark gaze spoke volumes as it flickered towards his old friend, Draco's father, with a sense of sharp alertness that Draco had come to associate with this man, but also with a palpable amount of alarm and wariness.

And his father... from this close Draco could see the unholy fire burning in his eyes and he knew that under the facade of the sophisticated aristocrat that the Malfoy patriarch usually portrayed lurked the vengeful, unforgiving creature of pure rancour dangerously close to the surface, ready to be released.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to know just which poor bastard would have to try and fend it off.

"Where have you been?" The question lashed out at them like a whip and Draco shared a quick glance with his fiancé and lover and with it their understanding of the situation within that single moment. This was going to be bad.

Severus seemed to think so too, and with his pragmatic way he tried to stabilize the atmosphere as if it was one of his potions getting out of control "Lucius, this is not helping..."

"We are right on time, father, as you well know." Draco said calmly, cutting his godfather short; he had cast a tempus right before they had entered the conference room, after all, just to be sure. "What..."

But his question was interrupted in turn. "Have you mated him yet?"

Sharply, Draco eyed the Malfoy patriarch.

So, this most likely was about that letter... but for as long as he wasn't sure, he would be damned before he admitted to their knowledge of Harry's rash act. Maybe it was something else altogether that had his father in such a state and in that case it was better their parents were unaware of Harry contacting his friends in any way for as long as possible.

Right next to him, Blaise's lips curled into a trace of a snarl and he drawled a "No" at the blonde man in the mirror, deliberately letting his annoyance bleed into his voice. After all, merely two days ago all of them had agreed that it would be better to court their submissive gently instead of pressuring him and he had vowed in front of all of them that he'd never force Harry.

"By Morgaine, why not? You certainly have had enough time!" Lucius snapped, his long fingers clawing into the upholstering of his arm rest.

"We agreed that we'd not force him! Harry isn't ready to mate." Blaise hissed back, aggressively enough that Draco brushed his wrist fleetingly to calm him some. This was not a battlefield where they could afford to let emotions rule their line of attack.

"Well, the point has come where this has become a luxury we cannot afford..."

"We gave him our promise!"

"Only a fool would..."

The situation might have escalated, had not Narcissa intervened at that moment, her calm, authoritative voice slicing through the boiling atmosphere. "Lucius! They do not know."

"What do we not know?" Draco demanded with narrow eyes. "What happened?"

To his astonishment, his father pulled forth his wand and with a harsh gesture he levitated an issue of the Daily Prophet from one of the side tables towards the mirror, so rapidly that it clashed against it with an audible thud, the front page pressed flush against the reflective surface.

"This! This happened!"

Once more, Draco's and Blaise's eyes met worriedly after only one glance at the newspaper. This was quickly becoming worse and worse.

Half of the page's surface was covered with a collage of three images, the left one showing that awful photograph of Lucius Malfoy in the rough attire of an Askaban prisoner that had been published in this very newspaper only two years before. It did not bode well that the article's author had chosen this specific picture, for every reader would forcefully be reminded of the Malfoy patriarch's history as a Death Eater; a not very subtle attempt to further discredit a man who was already treading on more than thin ice where the public's goodwill was concerned.

The one on the right side pictured Draco and Blaise in front of the courtroom right after Draco's acquittal, made when a journalist had interviewed the blonde young man to his opinion on Harry standing witness for him. It had annoyed Draco endlessly at that time, not only because once again, everything had been about Harry Potter, even when it was his life, his future that had been at stake in that very courtroom, but also because he had just wanted to return home with his lover and leave that part of his past behind him for good.

And the third picture, the largest in the middle, showed Harry with his hair in wild disarray, a bit longer than it was now, his face smeared with soot and a few drops of blood. The black and white photo could not do justice to his so expressive emerald eyes but it had managed to capture the utter exhaustion in them, the unique mixture of grief and relief and bafflement at being alive when so many were not, that only a survivor of battle and war could really emphasize with.

Draco remembered that picture well, someone had shot it right after the Battle of Hogwarts and he was sure that every wizard in Britain and many outside of it had seen it.

And everyone gazing at it now would be reminded of just who this was, of just what he had done and gone through for each and every wizard in Britain.

Together with the article's title, emblazoned in big letters above it all, the collage was more than disheartening.

'VYKÉLARI SUBMISSIVE FLEDGED: HARRY POTTER ABDUCTED FROM ST. MUNGO'S'

"Oh Merlin..." Blaise breathed next to him and Draco could only concur as he started to read the article, feeling as if someone had punched him in the gut.

Blaise had no idea whether he should be more furious or more impressed by what he read in the article. As someone who had used a manipulation of the press as a means to achieve his goals in the past, he certainly had to concede a certain amount of aptness to that Crane.

Damn it, he couldn't even accuse her of calumny...

All in all, the only law that she had broken was the Vykélari law of secrecy concerning submissives and since she made it seem as if Harry was being held captive, abused and possibly raped and forcefully mated, and since she was a journalist who could claim liberty of press, they'd be publically lynched if they tried to prosecute her.

But, damn it, the bloody, fucking gall of that woman.

'...The Boy-Who-Lived in the hands of a former Death Eater…'

Well, it was true that no one could honestly contest Lucius having been a follower of the Dark Lord, but to say it like that was going a bit far, wasn't it?

'...refusing to be accompanied by the Healer in charge, Andrew Cowen…'

Now that really ticked Blaise off! They had refused to let Cowen into the room, because that asshole had tied their Harry down with rough ropes that had chafed open his sensitive skin at the ankles and wrists and had not even treated the wounds; and because he had bound his wings together into an impossible position that had made his muscles cramp painfully... damn it, Harry had been scared to death! Remembering the warning signals the poor submissive had emitted, still made his flesh crawl.

By Mordred's vengeful nature, he would so sue that perverted bastard and wipe that conceited expression of his face until he came begging for Harry to make them stop... he' be fortunate if Blaise left him some knuts to fend for himself!

And then he'd hex him with huge abscesses.

That Asshole.

Where had he been? Ah yes...

'...abducted, forced into a relationship with two other men and then oppressed for the rest of his life…' and then just a sentence later '…rape and deprivation of liberty…'

Well, that at least was an accusation that was easy to refute, with nothing more than an impartial witness and a bit of veritaserum; after all, he and Draco could honestly claim innocence in that regard... well, maybe the part about the deprivation of liberty was not completely unfounded but really, that was taking it out of context...

In any case, Blaise had to admit that the Mediwizard's statement was cleverly and beautifully incorporated into the article. He would have positioned it more closely to the end so that any reader would have those sentences fresh in their mind once finishing their lecture, but otherwise...

But now the article really became interesting. Crane undeniably used the Mediwizard's statement to affiliate Harry's plight to the ruthlessness and power of purebloods. 'Purebloods can't keep on trampling over the rights of everyone else just because their families forged the laws and political structures our society is build up on now to their advantage.' She wrote there.

If not handled correctly, this situation could dwindle into a public uprising against the purebloods in their society, and that would not end well for them at all. Not after their position had already been weakened by the last Wizarding War.

Even Mrs. Palmer's following account could not invalidate that allegation. On the contrary, while creating the impression of giving voice to different opinions, Crane only strengthened the criticism at their society's distribution of power. And indeed Blaise had to admit that purebloods had always tried to retain as much autonomy as possible, granting the ministry only the minimum of power, supporting weak, easily led ministers...

By Morgaine. This article was not mainly about Harry Potter, even if it tried its best to make it seem so. It was the declaration of a cold war at which end stood a ministry controlling every aspect of their life, leaving single families and individuals little possibilities to significantly influence political events. Crane used Harry Potter, the war hero as an iconic figure, the martyr kindling the people's fighting spirit to try and disempower the purebloods. And she was damned successful at that.

Ending the article by describing what would have happened to their Harry 300 years ago and then passing the ball to the ministry by appealing to its duty as the law enforcer and protector of its citizens as well as reminding them of the debt to Harry for fighting their war just gave proof to her goal.

Merlin, he could just imagine how that would tear their sweet Harry apart. Blaise knew that those were societal changes Harry would approve of, especially now with Kingsley Shacklebold as the minister, but at the same time he would hate being made into a tool and weapon once again. And perhaps, perhaps he'd even be somewhat indignant for their sake, because while Harry was portrayed as the martyred hero, Draco and he were made into the foul villains and Blaise liked to think that Harry cared enough to be affronted at that.

He couldn't really explain why that would make a warm and fuzzy feeling spread through his chest, but it did and he only hoped that the newspaper plastered against the mirror in front of their faces would successfully hide the tiny smile he couldn't quite keep from erupting.

A glance to his side, though, sobered him up quickly. Draco's stony expression as he kept on staring at the article, had him reach out for his lover worriedly.

"Draco?"

Obviously Lucius took that as a sign that they had finished their lecture, for the newspaper was suddenly ripped away from the mirror, only to instantly catch flames of the palest blue and burn to a cinder within a moment or two, still smouldering shreds raining down onto the expensive carpet.

Alarmed, Blaise eyed his future father-in-law warily, taking in the harsh lines of fury on his face, cracks and fissures in the once so solid wall of control the blonde usually cultivated, wondering when he had ever seen him lose his bearings before like this and coming up blank. He had not been there of course, to see how the Malfoy patriarch had held himself during the war, but the vision he presented now was so far from the sophisticated, superior aristocrat he knew, it made him step back involuntarily, as if loss of control was a disease he might contract.

"This could ruin our family!"

"Lucius!" Severus interrupted once again, his voice sharp with reproach as he sat up in his chair. "Get hold of yourself!"

"Shut up, Severus!" The blonde snarled with barely a glance towards the former potions master, his eyes tearing into his son.

"You have to mate him and return to England at once. If this matter is not resolved immediately, the public will crush us!"

"Father..." Draco tried to stop Lucius' ranting, but to no avail and Blaise stepped closer to him, aghast of what was being asked of them, both from Lucius and all the promises they had made to Harry ... and to Ronald Weasley little more than half an hour ago.

The skin under which the Tiwaz slept like a beast in hibernation prickled uncomfortably.

"Already they are thirsting for our blood. The article has been out for barely an hour and already I had to adapt the wards to keep the howlers out! Purebloods demand we settle this before it becomes a problem for all of us, and Potter's fanclub clamours for their Boy Saviour. My trial is in two weeks exactly and the public will demand punishment..."

"Forcing Potter will gain you nothing, at this point, Lucius!" Severus interrupted and Blaise felt Draco relax at his side a bit, and he himself felt overcome with a pathetic gratefulness for the cold, pragmatic voice of reason their former potions professor managed to retain under the worst of circumstances.

"Do you think they will go easier on you when you forced the boy just because you are his father-in-law?"

"Whoever said that the public would have to learn of it?" Amalyne spoke up calmly from her chair at the side, her dark eyes resting idly on the folded hands in her lap.

Blaise felt his lips part in consternation as he stared at his mother. "You cannot possibly think that you could ever keep something like that a secret."

"Why not?" Narcissa asked, cold determination freezing her delicately chiselled features into a mask of stone and ice. "He willingly witnessed for me and Draco, didn't he, when there has been nothing but bad blood between him and us in the past. Why ever would he do that if he hadn't already felt drawn to my son?"

"Such a touching love-story..." Amalyne pondered with a hint of derisiveness, her gaze wandering over both her son and son-in-law, and Blaise knew his reaction was closely monitored and judged as she spun her web of lies around them. A black widow, indeed.

"The hero who tragically fell in love with his enemy, without any hope of ever having his love returned, holding on to the only means of getting the attention of what his heart desired: by antagonizing him. But he comes to his love's rescue when he is needed and only a couple of weeks later the favour is returned when the boy comes into an inheritance that allows him to be with his love." Her lips curled into a tiny smile. "As if you were fated to be together."

"Harry would never play along with such a charade." Draco said as calmly as he could, still trying to reason with their parents, when, in Blaise's opinion, they had obviously lost their minds.

Narcissa shook her head slowly. "Of course he will. Trust me, I have my means. Just bring him here before me."

"Mother..."

Blaise reached over, laying one hand one the small of his lover's back at hearing that voice shivering with the sound of betrayal, reassured that Draco was standing his ground when he leaned back slightly into his touch.

"You were the one who said it would be better if Harry were to enter a mating bond willingly."

Narcissa inclined her head in acknowledgement at her son's reminder, but it was Lucius who answered, now calmer once again, sure of the support of his wife and Amalyne and reassured by their confidence in their little plan. "The situation has changed."

Draco let out a flow of air, disbelievingly trying to come up with something that would make their parents reconsider.

"Just give me the chance to resolve this, father, two days or three, I will think of something, I promise. We have not forced him or assaulted him. With veritaserum we can attest to that! This article has no basis in fact and I can prove it..."

Slowly, Lucius stood, an imposing figure now as his body stretched to its full height. Draco had always envied his father for his redoubtable presence commanding respect so easily, but right now the vision was cracked by his earlier loss of control, at least in Blaise's opinion, who nurtured his indignation in silence at Draco's side, angry that they would endanger his and Draco's and Harry's happiness in order to avoid facing the consequences of their own stupidity.

"Even if you manage to do just that my son, it will not earn us back the public's favour. Only when it looks as if that brat mated you out of love they will not dare to put his father-in-law back into prison."

Draco shook his head, a jerky movement betraying his turmoil. "We swore to not let anyone force him into a mating bond."

His fury flaring again, Lucius took a few quick steps towards the mirror until he stood directly before them, his eyes blazing. "You have a duty to your family! For once in your life, fulfil it!"

In a placating gesture, Draco raised his hands, his voice strained as he tried to not let his father see how much that sentence had hurt. "Give me a few days of time, I will do my utmost to keep you out of prison, I swear."

At the same time, Blaise started seething inwardly, shivering with suppressed rage like a rattle snake about to strike. How dare they, how dare they ask this of them, how dare that man try to guilt-trap his lover when it had been Lucius who had almost brought about the Malfoy family's ruin? How dare he make his fiancé feel inadequate?

He should be glad instead that there were 1500 kilometres between them or Blaise would make him sorry, for ever having spoken, having even thought those words...

Growling Blaise whipped out his wand before Lucius could try to pressure Draco even further and snarled at him "We are not going to force Harry or allow you to come anywhere near him while he is still unmated!"

With those words and a quick wave of his wand, he closed the mirror connection before he could say something unfortunate towards Lucius or his mother, that might get either himself or Draco disinherited.

... which might not be that intolerable. He had enough money from his father's side to support both himself and Draco comfortably and if it meant getting rid of those hypocrites, it might be worth it... Merlin, he couldn't stop shivering with rage and disgust!

Suddenly, there were gentle fingers on his shoulder, and his attention snapped back to his pale lover. "Are you alright, Blaise? You're trembling..."

Whirling around, Blaise grabbed Draco's collar and pulled him close until their faces ware barely more than an inch apart, staring into surprised pools of mercury, eyebrows drawn together. He could feel the blonde's breathing hitch and his fingers start to pry his own away from that expensive shirt, but he wouldn't let him.

"Don't you dare" he growled, shaking his lover once for good measure, "taking those words to heart!"

For a few seconds, Draco blinked at him in incomprehension, then his gaze softened and he fixed him with a wry smirk, finally giving up his endeavour of loosening Blaise's grip on his collar.

"You're an idiot. But I love you, too."

Severus looked at his friend of old as if he saw him for the first time. Had he ever witnessed Lucius lose himself in rage and fear like this? The Slytherin prefect and king cobra of their illustrious house in Hogwarts who had introduced him to the finer circles in society, the aristocrat, heir of Abraxas Malfoy, the Death Eater, the Father and Husband who had made him godfather to his only son.

A son who quickly proved to be worth far more than his father. And wasn't that rich? Not a year ago Draco had been a brat who wouldn't have been able to control his own emotions if his life depended on it; only that, once his life did depend on it, he had reigned himself in, sometimes with obvious difficulties, but he had managed. Now, as if fate was playing one of her cynical games again, it was Lucius who had become the brat. And hadn't Severus told Harry in their Occlumency lessons that this was the ultimate sign of weakness?

Cygnus would have been appalled had he seen what had just happened.

Even Marcus Malfoy and the other Vykélari portraits stared at them in silence and Severus couldn't help but wonder if they were more taken aback by the patriarch's behaviour or Draco's disobedience.

Merlin, what was he supposed to do? If he supported Draco, Lucius might end up in prison, and that after all he had done to keep him out of it. And for what? For James Potter's little mirror image.

Only that James would never have put aside a feud that had lasted for the better part of a decade to help his enemy escape the naked walls of a prison cell. And Harry Potter had never, not once, harassed or bullied another student, well aside from Draco, but his godchild had never wasted a chance to get the better of his nemesis himself, so he supposed both boys more than deserved what they got. Mostly.

And he couldn't ban those memories any longer from his mind, those memories of a child raised in the darkness of a cupboard, always on the run when he was not playing House Elf, running from a barking, growling dog and his vicious, fat cousin and his goons. Memories of that loud, obnoxious whale of a man who treated his nephew so harshly it was a small miracle that the young man he had become had any self-confidence to begin with – never mind that Severus had never found the Potter brat lacking in that regard, rather the contrary much to his regret.

And most of all, Petunia's scrunched up face, always looking at Potter as if he was something her sister-in-law's foul dog had thrown up on her carpet.

Hadn't Severus' own father looked at him just like that?

Maybe, he reflected with a humourless snort, that was why he had felt the unquenchable thirst to put the boy down even after he had seen those memories, because he, Severus Snape, had not managed to bounce back and continue as if nothing had happened after his own abuse.

And Severus had had a room to sleep in.

In any case, while he still thought the boy to be a rash, obnoxious brat with more luck than judgement who was in no way 'husband material', especially for his precious godson, he truly thought that the boy did not deserve another prison, especially one of the kind Lucius planned to force him into.

So he watched as Narcissa, having come to stand next to her raging husband, effectively calmed him with a few well-chosen words, explaining to him her plan to trap Harry Potter without Draco and Blaise ever learning of it and his resolve hardened.

He had promised to help protect Lily Potter's son, and as long as the brat would not stop getting into problems too big to crawl away from on his own hands and feet, he would do just that.

CHAPTER END NOTES:

This was far longer then I intended it to be, but that seems to have become my curse.

I know that Lucius has been much more controlled in previous chapters but I think, considering his behaviour in the books, his reaction to this for him disastrous turn of events is still in character.

And I hope Draco's and Blaise's reactions didn't disappoint.

In any case I hope you liked the chapter and if you feel like it, leave me a review, I'd be delighted.
- 18
- 19
- 20
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

Night Flight