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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
- 19
- 20
- 21
CHAPTER 20: Prepare To Strike The Unprepared

CHAPTER NOTES:

Hey all of you!
Thank you very much for all the wonderful reviews! Honestly, I loved them and each and every time my mailbox gives that certain sound signal, my heart literally skips a beat, which, I admit makes concentrating a bit difficult ;-)...
But I must admit that RL keeps me so busy I simply have to give up trying to answer regularly. I'm just pretty much overhauled as it is and I'm simply not managing to do it. I'll try to answer questions and when I find the time, I'll answer the reviews as well. Still, if I don't, please don't think your reviews weren't appreciated, they certainly are!
Now please enjoy the chapter, hopefully.
Review replies for this story: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/35382-night-flight-review-replies/
(The review replies for the last two chapters are also there, I only forgot to post the link...)

Since the meeting with their parents had been shorter than anticipated and they had no intention of disturbing Harry and his friends and cutting their time together short as well, Blaise and Draco used the thusly gained extra time to inform both Adler and Ives of what had transpired between them and their parents just now.
The two portraits, while being somewhat shocked at the article (well, truthfully Draco was not sure if Adler had been fazed at all, but Ives' eyes had betrayed his inner feelings, widening and flickering towards his husband's unwavering, stony expression) they had not been overly surprised by Lucius' and their mothers' behaviour but alarmed nonetheless and they had advised them to take precautionary measures now that Harry's status as a submissive had become common knowledge – not that that piece of advice had been in any way necessary. Sometimes Adler was just overbearing.
In hindsight though, Draco thought regretfully, they maybe should have brought the two paintings with them to the conference room to begin with, perhaps the situation with Lucius, Narcissa and Amalyne would not have gotten out of hand so spectacularly if his ancestor's painting had been there as well, because he knew that Adler and his snidely remarks sometimes sufficed to humble a raving mind enough to reinstall some logic to it. But in all honesty, Draco had his doubts.
His father had always been unmovable in his goals and wishes and always pursued them ruthlessly, never letting others, not even his own wife, influence his decisions. He did what he thought was best for himself and his family, for everyone carrying the proud Malfoy name and admittedly, most often his leadership was beneficial for all of them, his plans well-conceived if sometimes a bit daring and risky. In fact, if not for the mess with the Dark Lord, the Malfoy name would still be flourishing under Lucius' care, their family thriving due to the questionable but effective methods he used in his endeavour to make the world bend to his will and grovel at his feet.
He, Lucius Malfoy.
But if he fell, Draco had no doubt that he might never ascend again; his transgressions were too severe and too many. The worst was that his father was not even aware of just how close he was to the abyss; and now that he had thought of a solution, he would not even consider another one, much less listen to his son and fiancé as they proposed a plan that might still not be enough to save him from prison. He would try to force Harry into their arms or make Draco and Blaise do it for him.
And wouldn't that be oh so easy, to threaten Harry's friends and blackmail the young submissive, especially now after they had made Pansy give the Weasleys her mirror, made them trust Blaise and Draco a little bit; they could just march into the Burrow and kidnap the two or three that Harry loved the most by slipping them time fused portkeys... or ask Pansy to do it, the girl would probably find some twisted fun in playing games with bloodtraitors.

Harry would have no choice but to give himself to them, establish the connection and let them do whatever they wanted to him. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived could be his – body, mind and magic – without much of an effort.
If only they would gain more than a vessel of hate or worse, a breathing corpse. Because those lively eyes would either die or forever burn with betrayal that time would transform into disgust and loathing as surely as any seed can do nothing but perish or become whatever plant it was destined to grow into.
That must not happen.
Draco was not sure if he could stand to see those vibrant, spring-green eyes regard him in such a way, let alone touch the lithe body while the vitriolic pools of emerald glared daggers at him or were closed against tears of desperation and resignation that would nevertheless escape in bitter rivulets.
What a repulsive image.
That alone would have been reason enough to protect the Gryffindor from the fate his father wanted to enforce upon him, had been reason enough to vow on a Tiwaz rune that Harry was safe from them, but it wasn't the only one.
The truth was that Draco loved his parents dearly and being raised with the beliefs of purebloods and the old wizarding traditions meant to be raised to be loyal to them as well; the notion couldn't be suppressed entirely even while at the same moment he couldn't quite ignore Blaise's harsh, furious words during that conversation with Adler and Ives. 'They are reducing us to mere tools!' he had growled, 'Pawns to be pushed around on their chessboard'.

If only Draco could honestly say that he hadn't thought the same when his father had tried to force him to submit to his wishes, practically telling him he had been a disgrace so far, never having fulfilled his duty to his family. Of course Draco had know that his father had never quite forgiven him for not revealing Harry Potter that day in Malfoy Manor but still the words had hurt. And consequently an indignant voice now whispered alluringly inside his head that his father mistook a duty to their family with a duty to him as an individual, that it would be oh so satisfactory to just throw the disrespect shown to him right back in his face and leave him to take the consequences of his own damn failures, failures that nearly had cost their family everything. Talking about the duty to the Malfoy clan...
But that would be petty, spiteful defiance and unworthy of any Malfoy heir and even though his fiancé talked about surpassing their parents and a literal Ragnarök of both of their families, Draco wasn't quite ready yet to abandon either his mother or his father and so, even though he couldn't deny the not insubstantial level of affection he held for their greenfinch that had caused him to pledge more than just his protection to Harry by swearing to do right by him, and even though it was the only possible outcome of his inner debate, Draco would have probably needed more time for the decision making, if he didn't think protecting Harry to be in his father's interest as well.
Because, assuming that Lucius was successful and the three young Vykélari returned to England now as bond mates and assuming that this led to Lucius being acquitted of all charges in his trials at the end of the month ... if only one single wizard found out, the Malfoy patriarch might find himself hunted down in a dark alleyway and lynched for his crimes against someone who had been practically declared a national treasure. And there was at least one wizard who would recognize their betrayal for what it was immediately from the bleeding of the Tiwaz rune. It would be foolish indeed to hope that Harry's best friend would keep silent or not take revenge when he himself had sworn to do so.
No, if Draco wanted to save his family, he would have to keep them away from Harry, even if it meant a few years of Azkaban for his father.
And so, within the next hour, Blaise assembled all House Elves to instruct them not to let anyone enter the grounds of Lanai Manor, to protect Harry by all means necessary if someone or something should gain entrance and make sure the submissive would use the portkey to flee if such a situation should arrive; to which end he of course revoked Harry's ban to leave – it wouldn't do to trap Harry inside the house and its surrounding gardens without any chance of getting himself out of harm's way.
Furthermore Blaise ordered his servants to intercept all incoming owls and not let their submissive have any letter without them having read it first or at least being present when he read it.

It was partly a precaution against Narcissa, who, if she had truly found a way to gain as much power over Harry as she professed to have, must not be allowed to contact the young submissive at all; but it was also a measure targeting other dominant Vykélari and possibly some of the more fanatic followers of the light. There were many who would risk quite a lot to not see Harry bound to such powerful, dark families after all.
One could argue that it might have been more efficient to just change the wards but neither Blaise nor Draco were exceptionally experienced and a mistake could weaken the Manor's defences considerably, a danger they weren't prepared to risk.
Additionally, on Adler's wish, Blaise granted both Vykélari portraits a House Elf as a servant to do their bidding so that in an emergency their long deceased advisors could take action on their own.
Now, after securing the Manor as best as they could, Draco and Blaise had only one more thing to do in their attempt to take care of the factors that made Harry vulnerable; a last precaution which, to Draco's endless irritation, pertained fully to Harry's friends.
Trying to wrap his mind about that felt a bit as if he was trying to swallow a dry, scrunched up ball of parchment of equally dry 22 inches history of magic homework. It was inconceivable and certainly unprecedented, but it would happen nonetheless: Draco Malfoy was actually going to have to protect the last descendants of a family with which his own had had a blood feud for generations as well as a muggleborn, a girl that had punched him once, for Merlin's sake!
The beaver and the weasels. Well, the matter at least didn't lack a certain amount of irony, considering he had spent some terrific moments as a ferret himself. In a way, he fit right in, didn't he?
God, the very notion of doing what he was going to do, was driving him mad...
But he wasn't complaining as he walked alongside Blaise to Harry's rooms again. A sense of foreboding had flooded him since they had left the conference room under the critical gazes of the Roman Triumvirate Jupiter, Juno and Apollo; it was like the looming presence of a Grim and it made his muscles tense and his wings flex beneath the skin of his back.
Maybe it had something to do with the grim silence of his fiancé, with how fiercely the Italian looked ahead, his jaw set and the ligaments of his throat protruding.
But then, Draco wasn't surprised. Blaise knew best what his mother was capable of and together, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy and Amalyne Zabini were indeed a striking triumvirate themselves, the British Triumvirate whose wrath, power and cunning should not be taken lightly.
Nonetheless, he hated seeing him so tense even if he knew that a certain amount of unrest was healthy in their situation. There was nothing better after all to sharpen one's alertness. So he aligned his steps to those of Blaise and laid an arm around his shoulders to pull him closer, pressing a kiss on the fabric there just as Blaise had done to him in that elevator that had brought them to the Spell Damage wing in St. Mungo's and to Harry.

And just like Draco had done that day, which seemed to be a lifetime away now, Blaise relaxed slightly and rested his cheek on Draco's forehead for a few precious moments, his arm sneaking around Draco's chest also.

Harry had started to become restless when the two Slytherins had been gone for longer than the agreed two hours. After all he knew already that it wasn't like them to be late... and the article, what if they had learned of it by now? If they were able to give him the means to directly speak with his friends over such a distance then surely they would have someone back in England who'd already have informed them about it via the same or at least a similar method.
Honestly, Harry was a bit nervous about their reaction. Of course he didn't expect them to go back on all of their promises and try to end the whole sticky situation by making him mate with them and he was convinced that they would do their best to keep him safe – which was still a rather strange, weird conception; it wasn't as if he had ever depended on others to protect him or thought he would in no way be able to deal with his inheritance without them holding and patting his hand. In any case he didn't rate them as a danger to himself.
But from the little that Blaise and Draco and also Ives had told him, it had been customary to go into complete isolation after the younger and stronger one of a pair of Vykélari came into his inheritance. He didn't want to lose the contact to his friends again; Merlin, he hadn't known how much he had missed talking to them until just now, with them sitting there in front of him. Everything just always seemed so trivial and manageable when they were together, the Golden Trio. And sitting now on a heap of sofa cushions scattered over the floor in front of that mirror, listening to Mione and Ron prattling on about Teddy and Remus and Tonks, how the twins had secretly started to search for all Malfoy and Zabini properties, coming up with crazy but ingenious plans to break into each and every one of them in an attempt to find and rescue Harry, and that Arthur had informed Kreacher of the situation and that the Elf almost had a heart attack from the elation of serving a Vykélari master who would soon join with a proper pureblood family. After having been given several potions – amongst them a Calming Draught and an Invigoration Draught – the old and still exuberantly happy Kreacher had started to clean up Grimmauld Place with an unprecedented vigour. Listening to all of that, it was as if he was hearing them speak of someone else, as if the nightmarish full moon of a few days ago had never happened, as if he was just on ... on the first vacation of his life...
Harry didn't want to lose that again for who knew how long.
And he still wanted to return to Hogwarts even if it should prove to be dangerous.
Well, if Blaise and Draco tried to clip his wings and lock him up like a tame canary, he'd show them just how submissive he really was... but somehow he doubted he'd have to resort to any underhanded tactics, well, as long as Blaise managed to keep his hands to himself that is. Aside from that, the two Slytherins had shown themselves surprisingly willing to compromise.
And even more empathetic than he had ever imagined a Slytherin to be able to be, what with how they had treated him after learning of the more gruesome details of his first transformation. A bit clumsy, maybe, in their – very unnecessary – efforts to spare him further distress, but one should appreciate the effort, right? It didn't seem much different from appreciating Molly's protectiveness when she had tried to keep him and her children away from the Order's work and the gruesome news of the Death Eaters' attacks while being determined to join the fighting and the war nonetheless, knowing that he was inevitably the pivotal figure to victory.
Was this the madness that Hermione had spoken of? Was he being blinded by a pathetic gratefulness for whatever scraps of kindness and affection, faked or real, were thrown at him, so much so that he confused his own feelings? Saw and felt things in Draco's and Blaise's expressions and emotions that were not there?

The thought was fleeting and it wavered in his mind mistily, vague as a mirage and the closer he thought about it, the surer he was of its falsity with the memories of their short connections a reassuring, warm balance to this new argument... much clearer though, was the small but ever-growing seed of indignation of being analysed and judged like a laboratory rat, grouped together with countless other pitiful 'victims' falling for those with power over them. Who should have the right to say that empathy and compassion were wrong, even if they were spent on someone who had harmed you? Everyone was the product of their environment; almost everyone could become a criminal under the right circumstances. Sirius had been a thief and both he and Remus had almost become the murderers of Peter Pettigrew, even in front of thirteen year old teenagers. Severus had done unspeakable things but in the end he had become a hero in Harry's eyes even if many would not think so and even if he was still an ass.
There were always too sides to every coin so why not show a bit understanding? Wasn't that the reason he had witnessed for Draco and Narcissa to begin with? Because he had understood how they had been driven into a corner. And no one could say that it had been the Stockholm Syndrome speaking then and not his overactive sense of justice.

Whether he was crazy or not, anyone who just bothered to look could see that both Blaise and Draco were trying their best. Who was he to deny them another chance? Dumbledore would have wanted him to think and act like that, Harry was sure. While the old wizard had undeniably committed countless mistakes in his long life, Harry refused to believe that this attitude was one of them. The war might never have been won if Albus Dumbledore hadn't given a certain young Slytherin the benefit of a doubt, even though Harry really couldn't endorse how the headmaster had used Snape as a spy.
Harry was just contemplating if it would be too bothersome trying to convince his two friends of his point of view – they could be frustratingly stubborn and sometimes Harry thought that there were no weapons or defences against the weird, counterintuitive logic of women – when a quiet knock interrupted his friends' chatter, the gentle trickle of words drying out immediately and a guarded veil descending to curtain their expression but Harry didn't pay them much attention, too busy with the little summersaults his stomach did as if he was again falling into a warm thermal suddenly raising him higher and higher.
The reason for that of course was nothing more than Harry's understandable apprehension regarding that damnable article, nothing else. Really. Well, and the fear that his friends and his hosts might tear each other to pieces over said article.
And the concern that it might harm Draco and Blaise.
"Just come in!" He called out quickly, then became uncomfortably aware of how gracelessly he slouched there on the probably very expensive cushions scattered over the ground as he supported his body on his arms that were propped up behind him. His fingers twitched with the sudden urge to sit up straighter, but he thought better of it, especially when the two Slytherins entered, lips bursting into smirks upon seeing his position. Why the hell would he suddenly start being concerned about offending the snakes with his disregard for appearances? This was who he was and he wouldn't change that; if they really wanted to court him, then the whole package with the lack of manners.

Besides, Ron and Hermione were showing as little care for decorum as he was, having abandoned their chairs for the floor long ago and weren't they as the Gryffindor lions entitled to some lying about? Big cats were like that.
With confident steps Draco and Blaise stalked over to him, giving curt nods of greeting to his friends, unperturbed by the heavy silence filling the room, a silence that Harry was uncomfortably aware of as he prayed to any deity who might listen to please have those four behave civilly towards each other.
Well, the Slytherins at least seemed to have decided on the very popular tactic of suppression, sauntering over to the three of them with a truly commendable nonchalance and confidence as if Draco hadn't spent the better part of their acquaintance hexing them on corridors or trying to get them expelled and as if Blaise hadn't advocated the superiority of purebloods just like any of their peers. Maybe not as loud as others, but not with any less conviction. Well, as long as Mione and Ron would play along and also ignore their past, the strategy might even work.
There was a certain tenseness to their movements, though, and it caused the concern in Harry to spike uncomfortably.
"You are late." He said, because it was the first way coming to his mind to get to the bottom of their unrest without having to directly reveal the article in front of Mione and Ron if Blaise and Draco did not yet know of it. Surely they wouldn't appreciate having to learn of this newest debacle with such an audience.
As Blaise's gaze flickered from him to the folded Daily Prophet lying directly at Hermione's feet and then, with a calculating steeliness, to his friends, Harry knew however that they had already been informed about the article after all. Biting his lips he wondered whether he should tell his friends he'd see them later and discuss the situation privately with his hosts.
Surely, though, Hermione and Ron would bug him for answers later anyway and their overprotective flood of concern might even be alleviated a little bit if they got the chance to observe for themselves that the two Slytherins were not treating him badly even when his presence caused them such difficulties. But on the other hand he hated how unreadable, cold and haughty Draco and Blaise became in the presence of others and he didn't want to bring them into an uncomfortable position should they want to keep their thoughts and plans to the two – no, the three of them; because Harry would not let them keep him out of affairs that concerned him also.
"I am sorry we kept you waiting." Draco gave him a smile that was all angles and sharpness and with an uncomfortable twinge Harry noticed that the serenity that had fought its way through the polished surface of their demeanour as resilient and unrelenting as dandelion breaking through stone, had given way to the frosty, slightly aggressive, sharp-edged determination that Harry knew all too well from their years of fighting.
"No worries..." Harry began, waving the apology away. But his words were distracted at best; there was something in the blonde's steely eyes as they, too, fell onto the article laying to Hermione's feet, something he couldn't quite name but didn't like either way. As if those silver grey orbs were lakes covered with ice and frost, hiding whatever lurked beneath.
A moment later it was gone, but it was enough to convince Harry that it would be better for Hermione and Ron not to be there. The last thing he needed right now was for the fronts between them and Blaise and Draco to harden even further over something like this.
Intent on bidding the other two parts of his triumvirate goodbye for now, Harry turned back around just to halt and frown at the hard and intent expression on Ron's face as he stared at the Slytherins while he tapped with the forefinger of his right hand against a point on his unclothed left forearm. The gesture seemed oddly ominous, almost, like the bared teeth of a manticore.
Confused, Harry turned back to Draco and Blaise, wondering what was going on, especially when he saw both of the Slytherins inclining their head deliberately.

"What?" Harry demanded, his gaze wandering between the three other men. "Since when are you having silent conversations of all people?"
Knowing that his long-time friend was much easier to get information from than the snakes, Harry finally settled on following Hermione suit and turning his questioning stare back to Ron's stubborn, freckled face.
"Weasley was merely making sure we'd keep the promise we gave him earlier." Blaise answered, before Ron could and Harry raised his eyebrows critically. "Do I want to know?"
The Italian smiled, shaking his head. "Nothing we haven't already promised you."
Harry swallowed past the sudden dryness in his throat. The only promises the Slytherins had given him were that they would let him return to Hogwarts and not let anyone try and make Harry enter a mating bond if he was unwilling. God, this was embarrassing. Had his best friend really made the two man who intended to court Harry vow not to force him into, well, marriage and sex? Rolling his eyes, more to overcome the heat tainting his cheeks than true annoyance, Harry gave Ron a wry look that clearly meant 'I can fight my own battles'. At least the redhead seemed as embarrassed as he was, the tip of his ears camouflaging to match the flicks of fiery red hair falling over them like the skin of a chameleon.
"Whatever." Harry coughed, deciding he really didn't want to dwell on this any longer than necessary. He stood, bowing down to take up the cushion he had been resting on as his friends raised behind him also. "I'll be along in a moment, I'll just..."
"Actually," Draco said with a certain, grave quality to his voice, "we need to speak with the three of you."
Immediately the atmosphere in the room sharpened as if filled with invisible glass shards that would hurt and cut and slice if only they had but a fraction more of substance.
"I am sure you have read Miss Crane's article in the Daily Prophet today." Draco roughly gestured to the newspaper still lying on the ground next to Mione who uttered an amused "indeed" after following his gaze.
Then, to Harry's dismay, his friend cocked her head, sending the long locks of nut brown hair flying, before she said "I especially liked the part where she said how purebloods were trampling over the rights of everyone else... or was that the Mediwizard?"

A snarky smile worthy of a Slytherin curled her lips as a bark of laughter bubbled out of Ron. She was teasing, Harry knew that, but she was also and more importantly testing the men who held the future of one of her best friends in their clawed hands.
"Mione!" Harry's voice lashed out like a whip. "Will you please stop that!"

With a certain satisfaction Blaise watched their submissive leap to their defence. Such a fierce sense of justice, what a strong personality.
But the brunette remained rather unaffected, staying silent as she considered them attentively, neither apologizing nor pressing the point further and Blaise understood that it was a test, a test of how they reacted to the sharp critic voiced in that article. There could be no doubt that Granger would try her hardest to get Harry out of their reach should she decide that they were too traditional in their opinions on purebloods and especially on Vykélari mating.

Secretly, though, Blaise thought with a smile, that the jibe could just as well have come from Pansy. What would Granger say if he told her that?
Next to him Draco cocked his head, cold amusement rolling off him in palpable waves and Blaise folded his hands in front of him, preparing himself for what could only become a very entertaining speech.
"Yes? Well I am rather indecisive..." The blond started, tipping one elegant finger to his chin as if he were deep in thought. "I liked how Palmer, out of all the examples of self-governed institutions she could have used, chose Hogwarts to point out where the ministry should take a more active role – especially after that went wrong so spectacularly so very recently."
Blaise smiled slightly, lowering his head to hide it. His Dragon... he had not thought Draco would go so far as to imply that he now in hindsight preferred Dumbledor's way of governing the school to the ministry's. Of course he knew that the former headmaster had made a lasting impression on Draco on his death day ... but even if that were not so, it was a rather neat strategy to use on the Gryffindor's.
"But then again," Draco continued, his voice hardening to cold steel for but a moment even though his expression remained carefully pleasant "the hypocrisy of that Mediwizard blaming us for supposedly mistreating Harry after the way they handled him in St. Mungo's is nothing less than rich. And the irresponsible attempt to set off a movement that would lead to more power being handed to the ministry directly after we saw in the Second Wizarding War that the power structures within the ministry are too open for abuse should at least keep us all in suspense for the next few weeks – or years if Crane is successful."

For a moment, Draco was silent, nodding to himself with a tiny smile as if he was thinking of something particularly entertaining, before ending with a nonchalant shrug and a jested "well, at least we won't be bored. But, you know, I would rather stabilize the ministry first and then give it more power rather than giving it all the power and then hoping it will rule fairly, wouldn't you?"
In the following silence, Blaise was sure, one could have heard a needle falling to the ground and he almost, almost laughed at the gobsmacked expressions on both Weasley's and Harry's face.

Gosh, their sweet submissive.

Granger though, remained silent and thoughtful and Blaise knew that the girl would look past the slights and the sarcasm and focus on the truly important points Draco had made with deadly accuracy. She had such a witty, sharp mind, he'd have to grant her as much.

"She said that?" Harry asked incredulously before shaking his head once and starting to glare at Draco and him again. "Wait, never mind. Will you all just stop antagonizing each other?"
But before either Blaise or Draco could answer, Granger muttered behind them. "Yes, I guess she did say that. You know, I never saw it like this. Still, now with Shacklebold as the minister the situation is quite different than with Fudge or Scrimgeour. He is fair and just and will undoubtedly push through many reforms during his term that will be more than beneficial for the Wizarding World. Honestly, I think we could do worse than giving him the power to really restructure the ministry..."
Smugly, Draco raised an eyebrow at their young Vykélari as if to say 'See? I'm not antagonizing anyone...' and Blaise rolled his eyes, only glad that the brunette had not been affronted by Draco's complacent manner, even though he had suspected she wouldn't. The last thing they needed right now was an angry Harry blaming them for deliberately annoying his friends.
Therefore, before either Draco or the lioness on the opposite side of the mirror could derail the situation, he interfered. "In any case we didn't ask you to stay just to discuss the finer intricacies of Crane's article, only its repercussions."
Draco nodded and raised his chin with the air of someone determined to face his fate with dignity. "At least until the school term starts, you should consider moving into a safe house with your family. If you have no suitable place to stay, I could provide one. But it is not exactly a secret that you and Harry are close and now that Harry's status as a submissive is known, you might be targeted."
A sharp intake of breath tore Blaise's and Draco's gazes away from the young pair in the mirror to their submissive standing there like a statue, watching them sharply.

"You think someone might attack my friends now?"
Blaise's gaze darted to Granger and Weasley whose postures had straightened, their expressions those of experienced soldiers told that they were the last line of defence, not allowed to retreat however powerful their enemy would prove to be. Well, at least they could commend them for their loyalty even if the situation called for more subtlety than that.
"To be honest I think that they will be relatively safe from other dominant Vykélari for the moment, since the article brought so much attention to the situation and after the war you have the public's sympathy and admiration: threatening anyone close to you will be difficult to conceal and thus, any British dominant trying to attain you as a mate using that tactic will have to brave the public's chagrin. And most foreign Vykélari will need a day or two at best to react to the article and then get the necessary information on your weaknesses, your friends. But..."
Blaise fell silent, looking asquint at his lover to take over. After all it was due to Lucius Malfoy that their parents had now become shadows in Harry's foe glass and it was only right that Draco was the one to tell him that.
"It's your family, isn't it?" Granger asked softly, her alert eyes resting on Draco.
Irritation dripped from the Slytherin Ice Prince's being at that like poison from the fang of a king cobra, less from the aggravation of the unpleasant matter with their parents than from having the muggleborn guess the truth so quickly, so unerringly and not even with a hint of accusation.
"Yes." Draco said tersely, hating how Weasley gave a curt nod as if he had never expected something else. Of course Draco hadn't either, not truly, but that was beside the point! He reigned in the biting comments threatening to spill from his tongue though; Harry surely would not react favourably.
"It seems Miss Crane's appeal to the public might influence the outcome of my father's trial in two weeks negatively." Draco administered the explanation with a detached coolness, it was either that or having the claws prickling under the nails at his fingertips ripping out of him. His fingers twitched already as it was. "Consequently our parents now wish for us to mate Harry and bring him home."
Both Blaise and Draco had steeled themselves for an explosion of some sort, for threats and anger and fury and outrage as uncontainable and grand as fiendfyre. But Weasley and Granger only stood there watching them intently and calculatingly and perhaps the redhead remembered that they had already assured him once more that they would honour the Tiwaz Vow and perhaps Granger had already deduced the nature of the promise they had mentioned in front of her earlier. Blaise wouldn't put it past her. At least they seemed to be prepared to let them declare themselves.
Harry, though, had cringed next to them and that was worse than anything the other two Gryffindors could ever have said or done. It caused Blaise's stomach to churn uncomfortably and a wave of bitterness to drench Draco. Merlin, why did their parents have to destroy everything?
"We told them that we wouldn't." Draco asserted forcefully, eyes ablaze, and the anger over the need to even voice that reassurance made his voice tight.
Blinking once, twice, Harry tilted his head, frowning at them as if he doubted their intelligence. "I know!"

Then his stance softened and his left hand flew to his right to again start to torture his knuckles. His eyes broke away and he shrugged with one shoulder only, the very image of chagrin. Blaise was sure those feathers in his hair would have flattened the untameable raven mass down against his skull, had they been visible then and there.
"I never thought this could reflect on you like this. I'm sorry." he said and Blaise felt his shoulders relax, a flash of relief and golden warmth pulsing through his chest like the song of a phoenix. Harry wasn't afraid of them, no, even better: as ridiculous as the idea was, their sweet nightingale was indeed regretting that they were falling into disrepute because they had abducted him.

Honestly, Blaise couldn't fathom why the brunet would ever feel that way or even how he could defend that unconceivable notion in his own head, he only knew that it was somehow typical, typical Harry.

Which meant that yes, Weasley was right, and Harry needed to be protected from himself the most. He was powerful, one of the best duellists Blaise had ever seen and intelligent as well, but he didn't know when selfishness was called for.
"If you need me to do something about the article… I could help, you know?"

'Quod erat demonstrandum' Blaise thought with an exasperated sigh.
Suddenly the fire was back in the leaf green eyes, in his posture and the way he carried himself and Harry looked up and crossed his arms, stubbornly and defiantly staring at them. "I won't witness for your father or…"
Draco shook his head. "You do not need to do anything at all."
But he wanted to. It was evident in the way the muscles in his jaw tightened, while those expressive iridescent eyes of his flickered away in annoyance at being brushed off. And Blaise couldn't stand it. Not when his own mother desired him to be nothing more than a lovesick, whipped, hand tame gosling blinking adoringly up at them from the ground at Blaise's and Draco's feet, not when she, Narcissa and Lucius wanted him mindlessly and helplessly bound to their families, a vessel of light and power blinding everyone else to conceal their deficiencies and allow them to strive for even more power unnoticed. And Blaise and Draco would be nothing more than the leashes to bind the submissive with, their parents' tools.
It was not to be borne.
"Harry," Blaise murmured softly as he stepped in front of the submissive to cup his cheek, ignoring the annoyed coughing of Weasley behind him, confident that if Harry's friends wanted to interfere, Draco wouldn't let them. Who the hell cared if they found the gesture too intimate, inappropriate? As long as the colibrí turned his head just so into the hollow of his hand, almost leaning into the touch, as long as it got those emeralds to see him, as long as he could make him understand…
"You have done enough already for people that wronged you so grievously, still want to. I don't think you quite understand just how much: Lucius wants us to subdue you and parade you around like a marionette – not even a trophy husband but a puppet without will. And Narcissa, she claims to have something to hold over your head, something that will give them absolute power over you, and she will use it without second thought… I will not even speak of what my mother would be prepared to do to entrap you hopelessly."
Quite frankly, Blaise felt a bit vengeful after Lucius had hurt his Dragon, after Amalyne had held her derogatory speech about Harry.

"I do not want you to do anything for them."
Throughout the spiteful words, Blaise kept stroking with his thumb over Harry's cheekbone, his little finger resting just behind the pulse point at the tan column of flesh and sinews, still feeling the echo of the angry beat – Or was that his own? – wondering if the younger Vykélari understood that he was prepared to be just as cruel and ruthless and devious if Harry needed him to be, if Draco needed him to be.
And Harry looked at him and for the first time since that night in the hospital, there was that certain, cruel realisation carved into the very flesh and skin of his face. For the very first time, Blaise believed that their nightingale truly comprehended the nature of his situation. He wasn't sure though if he found it desirable or regrettable.
"But they are your parents."
"Yes," Draco said from where he stood close to Blaise's left shoulder, his voice deceptively soft and gentle, the weight of his hand coming to rest heavily on the Italian's forearm, in a subtle restrictive gesture. "And maybe, when this all is over, they will see that they were wrong."
Immediately Blaise knew he had overstepped boundaries that shouldn't even have been approached. Not only had he, in his anger, revealed much more than he should have in front of Granger and Weasley who might repeat his words to a certain journalist in the worst case, no he had also put his lover and fiancé, his Dragon, into a very tight spot. Because helping his own parents now without losing face in front of Harry or Harry's friends would be difficult at best and Blaise had known that Draco didn't want to condemn Lucius to his fate, didn't want to sever the ties of blood between his parents and him and throw them to the wolves. And though Blaise couldn't care less after the words Lucius had thrown at Draco earlier in a fit of rage, whether the Malfoy patriarch had meant them or not, it wasn't his decision to abandon the man.
Therefore, Blaise stepped back from their submissive, searching forgiveness from his fiancé with nothing more than a quick glance, relieved that it was granted with a curt nod and a reassuring squeeze to his forearm.

"In any case you should stay as far away from the three of them as possible for now." Blaise said to Harry's Gryffindors, hoping to distract them from his earlier words. "Preferably in a safe house. Also, some of my Italian Vykélari relatives were at Draco's and my Engagement Party and they might still be in Britain. They won't be held back by the fear of angering the local wizards."
"My father and brothers can't just stop going to work." Weasley said matter-of-factly.
"I can't force you of course." Draco conceded, albeit with a certain tenseness to his voice. "But it would be best if at least the two of you and your sister, Jenny..."
"Ginny!"
"Yes, Ginny, I'm sorry." Blaise smiled inwardly as not even he could detect a hint of sarcasm in Draco's voice. "At least the three of you should consider going into hiding until Hogwarts reopens."
Harry rubbed his forehead tiredly. "You really think this is necessary? I mean why would someone attack my friends if they can't blackmail me with it? And how would anyone be able to blackmail me when they can't contact me? Nobody knows where we are; I mean that is why you brought me here in the first place, isn't it?"
"As long as we do not know who might have read your letter, Harry, we can't be sure about that."
Guiltily Harry bit his lips, regret pulsing from him in dark, ominous waves and Blaise wished Draco hadn't worded it like this, because there was nothing as unbearable to Harry as endangering his friends and now, the letter he had written in a moment of improvidence was doing just that and it wasn't as if their submissive needed or deserved to be reminded of his mistake.
Coming to the same conclusion, Draco narrowed his eyes, clicked his tongue and raised his chin in obviously feigned haughtiness, intent on providing some distraction in the only way he knew how with these three. "I know the concept is probably difficult to grasp for you Gryffindorks, but it is better to be safe than sorry."
"Says the guy who strutted up to a Hippogryph, unarmed, and refused to bow." Granger quipped, rolling her eyes.
Draco waved the comment away with a sniff and a sharp head movement. "I was thirteen. And I learned my lesson."
Weasley smirked at them sharply like the carnivore that he was. "Yeah, well, but not that it sometimes can be better to face your enemies head-on. Understandable of course, I know that this concept has to be impossible to grasp for a snake."
Blaise shrugged unperturbed. "But it generally saves especially human resources to use more sly tactics then a direct onset. 'He will be victorious, who prepared himself to strike at his unprepared enemy'(1)."
"Where's the honour in that?"
"Where's the honour in losing?" Draco asked back.
"Of course a Slytherin would say something like that."
"Guys!" Harry called out in helpless exasperation. "Could you please just try to get along? Or pretend to?"
A little bit embarrassed, Weasley shrugged apologetically; but the two Slytherins remained silent and smug, after all they had achieved what they wanted: there was no hint of the earlier, foul dejection marring Harry's features now, even though he still looked more mature and serious than suited him.
"Anyway" The brunet continued, raking a hand through his raven locks until they looked like something a blackbird might try to nest in. "Could you two and Ginny maybe at least not go anywhere alone and ... you know, the usual safety precautions against portkeys in letters and all that stuff. I'd really feel better if you..."
"Fine," Granger sighed, adjusting her stance. "You know my parents are still in Australia, in the Muggleworld – I sent them there for the duration of the war and I've only just gotten back in touch with them" She added with a quick glance towards Blaise and Draco.

"We'll talk with Molly and Arthur first, of course, but we could go there. Though it will take me a few days, two at least to get the necessary portkeys."
A bit of the tenseness that Blaise had felt piercing his body during the last two hours faded away gently like spears turned to nothingness. Granger, Weasley and that girl that had been so close to binding their Harry to her would be safe and as such, Harry would be, too. Because, while the Boy-Who-Lived had an undeniable hero complex and would never leave a friend in danger, there were only a few people that Blaise knew had that kind of value that would make Harry rush into danger for them mindlessly, thoughtlessly, unable to see reason.
Only a few days more, a few days until the three Gryffindors would safely be leaving Britain.

CHAPTER END NOTES:

Well, this was awkward. Really. I started writing the part with all five of them in Hermione's and Ron's POV which was SO awkward that I had to delete it. Then I tried writing it in Draco's and Blaise's POV, which was, again, so awkward and stilted that I had to stop. Then I tried Harry which started out well but then became truly awkward ONCE AGAIN. Therefore the changing POVs...
Such a hellish chapter to write, I'm glad it is done. But I hope you like it nonetheless.
The next chapter has their date and then I have a not quite little surprise that has me silently smirking like an evil Slytherin, but which, I'm afraid might make you want to throw stones at me.
(1) Sun Tzu, The Art of War. I translated that from the German version I have.
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