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Black Phoenix	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 21568 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this fanfic.

Chapter List
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Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Twenty-Two—Clarity of Thought
            The talking and the mutual complimenting had been going on for more than an hour, and Harry thought it was time to remind them, at least a little, of who was in charge here.
            “Listen,” he said, setting down his mug down with a harsh clink in the middle of his saucer. It had seemed strange not to have cups and saucers with tea, when he was serving it to Veela, but he had regretted it once he saw how they used the saucers to do things like hide their hands and lips. “You’ve talked all this time about hospitality and hostility and all these brutal things that the French Ministry has supposedly done to you, but you haven’t given me any details. Why did they start forcing you out of your homes? They’ve tolerated you for a long time, I think. Hell, I thought Beauxbatons was full of Veela and part-Veela students. Why did they start kicking you out?”
            He got more than one cold, blue-eyed stare. Harry ignored that. Draco, and even Persephone, when she was in her right mind, could do cold stares better than these people. And he wasn’t affected by their beauty, so there was one weapon out the window.
            The old Veela woman who had greeted him out on the grounds took over again. She was Madame de Lis, Harry had learned, and the others seemed to respect her enough to let her speak for them. “I told you that the French Minister has been most discourteous to us,” she began.
            “You did,” Harry said. “And then you said nothing else. I really need to know how he’s been discourteous, and exactly how you expect me to help. Every time I asked you questions, you started hinting around the subject. I don’t understand. Do you want me to go over there and intimidate him into giving you your homes back?”
            One of the other Veela, the tallest woman, shifted in her chair, and Harry glanced at her. “It is a kind offer,” she said, her accent fairly thick, so Harry had to concentrate to tell what she was saying. “But it is not—the proper response. You could not do it. You are not having enough power.”
            Harry clenched his hand. He knew that everyone in the room felt the tightening strain in their minds, although they probably weren’t aware of what was happening. Madame de Lis did give him a flat stare, though.
            “If I hold my power like this,” Harry told them, “then none of you can tell a lie, no matter how much you want to.” He opened his fingers and let the power go. “I could force you into speaking the truth, if you want. Frankly, I don’t want to. It’s boring, and a waste of my time. I’d much rather that you just told me the truth directly. Why all the hinting? Either it’s something really horrible, in which case you should tell me so we can take care of it, or you’re trying to trick me, in which case I’ll find out anyway and throw you out.”
            That brought on a lot of whispering in French, which Harry didn’t try to follow. He didn’t think they were fools. Maybe they had come here intending to trick him, but that had been before they knew how powerful he was inside Hogwarts. And if they intended to seek sanctuary in his court, it was good for them to realize just what they would be facing. He held his face still and waited for them to say something or troop out.
            Finally, Madame de Lis faced him and said, “The others agree that I can speak.”
            Harry just nodded. By his estimation, she had been doing that for a while already, but he welcomed her finally deciding to make it official. Now maybe some business would get done.
            “The French Ministry has not done anything solid to us yet.” Madame de Lis spoke as if she was feeling her way through a treacherous, shifting field of broken stones, and ducked her head a bit as she watched him through pale eyelashes. Harry still didn’t move and didn’t show that this was of any interest to him, and Madame de Lis sighed and went on. “But there are rumors circulating. They say that the French Minister is close friends with Minister Tillipop, and intends to copy Britain’s policies of dealing with magical creatures.”
            “What are Britain’s policies about Veela?” Harry asked. “I didn’t think we had enough living here to make a difference.”
            “Britain has laws for everything,” said a young man near the rear, with a thinner accent than the others and a flash of bitterness deep in his eyes that Harry found himself interested in knowing more about.
            Madame de Lis cast him a look and said something sharp in French. The young man folded his arms and scowled at the floor. Madame de Lis sighed again and said, still looking at him instead of Harry, “They say that any large groups of Veela are not permitted. They say that Veela need to be registered and have a check performed on their wands every six months. Perhaps that does not sound strict to you, but it does to us.”
            “Are you serious about coming to my court, then?” Harry stretched, and Persephone fluttered on her perch and glanced over. Harry ignored her for the moment. He wasn’t worried anymore, the way he once would have been, about her flying over and attacking one of his guests. “Or did you simply intend to have this as a backup plan? I don’t think you would want lose your homes.”
            “Our homes, in the sense of houses,” and Madame de Lis paused until Harry nodded, “are not important to us. We have certain—I am not sure—souls that we take with us. Elements of the soul?”
            She stared at Harry as if waiting for him to come up with the word, but Harry just blinked. He didn’t have any idea what she was talking about.
            “We have things that we must keep safe,” said Madame de Lis. She looked off to the side. Harry didn’t know if that meant she was annoyed or not. At the moment, it seemed like his best course was just to keep silent and listen. “The French Ministry is making noises that may threaten them. We cannot—even the threat—”
            She fell silent. Harry nodded. “I can understand that,” he said. “But what you said when you first arrived here wasn’t true, was it? The French Ministry hasn’t driven you out of your homes?”
            Someone near the back, well, probably two someones from the voices, tried to speak up. Harry ignored them. They had said that Madame de Lis was the one who would speak for them, so he waited for her to say something.
            “We thought it would seize your attention,” Madame de Lis murmured at last, in a voice that made it sound as if she was speaking through gritted teeth.
            Harry leaned forwards until there were only a few centimeters separating their noses. “Don’t lie to me again,” he said.
            Madame de Lis touched her throat, apparently still feeling the pull of the magic Harry had used that had made her unable to lie a few minutes ago, although Harry wasn’t still doing it now. “No. Now there is no need.”
            “You think I’ll help you?”
            Madame de Lis didn’t appear to find the magic that crackled around him for a second threatening. Maybe she had taken his measure and knew it was unlikely he would really hurt her, Harry thought. She nodded. “I know you will.”
            Harry studied them for one more minute, then turned around and whistled. A tunnel in the stones opened, leading down through the walls in the direction of the office he had given Ron. Persephone launched herself off her perch as if they had planned this and down through the little tunnel, her wings barely skimming the sides.
            Harry turned back to the Veela, who were staring at him. Yes, he could have opened the tunnel with a simple, silent command, and not whistled, but that made it all the more dramatic, and harder to ignore. “I’ve sent my phoenix to fetch someone who may be able to help us.”
            It wasn’t long before Ron climbed the stairs and came in through the door (Harry had never been able to persuade him that walking the tunnels through the walls was perfectly safe). He eyed the Veela a little, then turned to Harry. “Hermione said that we have some visitors. Yeah?”
            Harry held back his grin at the expressions that the Veela wore now. “I know that you said Percy had a girlfriend who worked in the French Ministry a while back. Do you think it’s possible that he still might be able to firecall her?” Harry didn’t know how Percy had broken up with the girl, or why; he had just remembered her existence.
            “I think he could.” Ron scratched the back of his neck with a serious frown, and didn’t so much as crack a grin in the Veela’s direction. “Do you want me to get hold of him and see if he could?”
            “As safely as you can.” Harry knew that most of the Weasleys were keeping their heads low right now. For one thing, Ron’s flight to Harry’s side meant that the Ministry would be watching them closely; for another, several of them had jobs in the Ministry. “If it takes a bit, that’s all right. But I would like to know what the French Ministry’s policies are about Veela in Southern France right now.”
            Ron nodded as if that was a question he had always anticipated being asked, and turned and left the office again. Persephone circled up from the tunnel a second later, landing on her perch and spreading her wings to croon at him.
            Harry gave in and scratched her head, the way she seemed to want, before he turned back to Madame de Lis. “This should give you some peace of mind, if we talk to someone who’s closer to the center of power.”
            Madame de Lis might have swallowed a beetle. “You investigate us very carefully. Did you do the same thing with the centaurs and the merfolk who wanted to join your court before us?”
            “They didn’t lie to me and try to blast me with allure.”
            “That was an accident,” said the Veela woman who had done it in a mutter, lowering her eyes to her hands. Harry looked, too, but they were just clasped tightly in her lap, and not moving or threatening.
            “It’s still something that none of the others did.” Harry turned back to Madame de Lis. “I interview the humans who want sanctuary in my court very carefully, because they might stab me in the back if they don’t get exactly what they want. I didn’t think that I would have to do it with magical creatures, because I thought they would come for an obvious reason and not act against me. But you have. Why?”
            “We wanted you to take us more seriously.” At least Madame de Lis was speaking without hesitating this time, and Harry didn’t think it had anything to do with how good she was at English. “We thought you might reject us if we weren’t currently in trouble.”
            “I would have appreciated a message,” Harry said. “And no lie.”
            “You’re hung up on that,” muttered someone from the back in what sounded like almost unaccented English. Someone else nudged him in the ribs, and shut him up.
            Harry just waited until he was sure he was the center of attention, and held out his hands, palms up. “I’m giving you the same treatment I give the humans who want to become part of my court. I just want to know what the real situation is, and whether you came to me because you want sanctuary now or if you’re looking for other choices in case the Ministry turns against you. That was all I wanted to know.”
            “You are one of our choices.”
            Harry smiled at her. “Good. Then we can take some time with the interviews, and you can decide whether you would really be willing to move from your homes, in a beautiful country with a good climate, to come to Hogwarts.”
            “If we can take our souls with us, then we have nothing to worry about with regards to the weather.” Madame de Lis looked around as if she was envisioning a storm howling around the thick stone walls, and those walls keeping them out.
            Harry wondered whether she meant by souls, then decided that he might as well ask now. “Can you describe what your souls are?”
            Madame de Lis spoke in French in response with a few Veela before answering him. Harry waited. This wouldn’t be any worse than interviewing some of the annoying human candidates, provided they had it settled that the Veela were not going to lie to him.
            Finally, Madame de Lis turned back and said, “Veela can…make homes in many different places.” She was picking her way carefully with the words again, and that might have been because of the language or not. Harry waited patiently. “We have our souls in our bodies, but also outside them, in different people and objects. The people we mate with are one such thing. We also have some objects.”
            “So they’re like portable mates,” Harry said. He didn’t think he needed to understand secrets that the Veela sounded unwilling to explain to him. He just wanted to make sure of a few things. “How large are they?”
            Madame de Lis stared at him as if it was an offensive question, but Harry remained silent. Finally, she said, “They would fit in a house. In a room. They are the things that make the house home.”
            Like the paintings on the walls and the knickknacks you’ve collected, Harry thought. “Are they dangerous to Hogwarts, or to anyone of non-Veela heritage who would be around them?”
            Madame de Lis frowned harder. “Do you think that we would bring them into another place inhabited by non-Veela?”
            “That’s what I’m trying to determine,” Harry said. He ignored a few of what sounded like gasps of outrage. They were the ones who had brought his distrust upon themselves. They could have told the truth from the beginning, and he would have taken them seriously. “How big a space at Hogwarts would you need?”
            “A wing,” said Madame de Lis firmly. “The objects are not dangerous, but they are fragile. They would be vulnerable to destruction if someone intruded into our rooms and did not understand what they were, but felt their magic. Or perhaps they would want to steal them. Some of them look like jewels and other valuable things.”
            Look like doesn’t mean “are,” Harry thought, and crossed one leg over the other. “You must have seen that Hogwarts has towers and so on, but doesn’t have separate wings laid out like that. What about a floor?”
            “We would still be directly above other rooms, and someone might be able to climb into ours.”
            “My sister was with Beauxbatons when they came here,” interrupted a boy who looked like he might be about seventeen from the middle of the pack. “She said that there were all sorts of passages in Hogwarts that no one knew about. How would we keep ourselves safe if you put us on a floor?”
            Harry smiled gently at him. “Because Hogwarts is bonded to me, and it wouldn’t let strangers into the court in the first place, and it would shut down any secret passages that I asked it to,” he answered. He was sure of that, although to be fair some of those passages were probably protected with magic and he hadn’t actually tried it yet. “I’ll do what I can to make sure that you’re safe. But why is it a problem to have rooms directly below yours?”
            Madame de Lis and the others exchanged glances.
            “Stop trying to lie to me,” Harry said. He was becoming increasingly weary of this. Did they really think that they could pause and lie to him and that he wouldn’t find out? Or were they counting on digging into the court and then not being thrown out when he discovered the truth because he was too kind? Fuck that. Harry wasn’t going to sacrifice the safety of his court, and the people already here, for those who couldn’t tell the truth even when specifically asked to. “Just tell me what the reason is.”
            Madame de Lis straightened her back and said, “It is not that we wish to lie. It is that—we are not used to telling others about this. It is different. It is sacred, and it is hard. Will you listen?”
            Harry nodded, a little calmed down. “All right. Why is it a problem to have rooms directly beneath yours?”
            “Because our objects grow,” said Madame de Lis. “They extend…” She paused.
            “Roots?” Harry guessed.
            Madame de Lis nodded. “They must have room and quiet to grow. In a house, it is not a problem. They can reach into the earth. But here, when they grew down, they would meet the rooms of someone else, if you gave us a floor.”
            “I see,” Harry murmured. He didn’t know exactly what these objects were or why they needed so much room, but it seemed likely that at least they weren’t dangerous. “Fine. Give me a few days to think about it. In the meantime, please stay here as my guests.” He waved his hand, and the door of the office swung open. “The castle will guide you to the kitchens, and you can rest and eat. After that, they will escort you to temporary rooms.”
            Madame de Lis seemed to decide that it was useless to tell him to make up his mind faster—which it would have been. In the end, she stood, inclined her head the tiniest amount, and followed the tunnel out.
            Harry leaned back, propping his feet up higher, and frowned at the wall.
            Persephone trilled. Harry looked at her, having the faintest hope that there was something she could do to help—after all, she was a bird, like the Veela resembled—but all she did was crowd closer to him and lower her neck for petting again.
            “I wish you were back to your normal self,” Harry told her as he stroked the edges of her feathers. “Maybe you’re nicer this way, but it’s unnerving.”
            Persephone just closed her eyes and turned her head to the side, because he wasn’t getting the exact right spot.
*
Meechypoo: Persephone does have a reason for her behavior, but it’s not something that Harry has guessed yet.
qwerty: As you can see here, it’s a little more complicated than that.
Anon: Harry really, really wishes that Persephone would go for his eyes or something.
Harry can perhaps modify Hogwarts. He’ll have to try, if the Veela do decide to move there. Although they’re being pills at the moment.
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Black Phoenix