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There Be Dragons, Harry	By : Scioneeris Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Slash - Male/Male Views: 58493 -:- Recommendations : 9 -:- Currently Reading : 28
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of its characters. I make no money by writing this story..

Chapter List
- 49
- 50
- 51
See first chapter for disclaimers/warnings/summaries.

NOTE: The final TORVAK subplot chapter, we start to transition half and half between Harry and the rest of the Weasleys after this one. :) Since the Battle of the Astronomy tower hasn't happened yet with Bill, (the year is 1996), I have taken some artistic liberties.

RECAP: Arthur, Percy, Ron, Fred, George, Bill and Fleur are in the unplottable Weasley manor, under Arthur's father, Septimus' protection, who has offered to help them with removing the seals on the Weasley children. Septimus calls in Regulus Black-a botched Torvak hybird. Theo cannot sleep after Harry's revelations and seeks out Severus to ask him a necessary question. ...

WEASLEY MANOR : UNPLOTTABLE : TUESDAY NOON (Earth Time)

Sometimes Arthur had a sneaking suspicion that his Torvak nature swam closer to the surface than he wanted it to. It had taken years in the wizarding world to dull the senses to a point where he did not have to agonize over every miniscule act and situation. Things like his father springing surprises on him. Surprises like having a hybrid misfit brought to a private gathering amongst the elite and noble. Surprises like proposing to let his children near a pureblooded Dragel.

Dragel.

His mind whirred to a stop at that precise mention.

"A pureblooded Dragel?" Arthur managed to sound out. He eased Ron off his lap, though he was unable to quite release his grip on his youngest son's arm. He was slightly surprised when George leaned against him and causally linked their arms together. It was George, as the quieter twin had always been the one with a slightly more emphatic nature. Fred tended to be the louder and more ostensibly blunt about his opinions.

Opinions that were usually tempered by George.

Arthur swallowed. The physical contact helped him to remember to keep his rationality around him. At least for the sake of the children. He cast another glance at his father's impassive face. Those words did not make sense at all. From everything he knew of Dragels, there was no way the woman could remain sane—Dragels craved the affection and stability that came with more than one mate. A fierce blush dusted his cheeks as he recalled himself and Molly.

He swallowed. Their very history turned that idea upside down as Molly obviously had not been insane—at least not in a traditional sense—she had bound his children, sealed them and hidden her entire self. Arthur frowned. Perhaps sealing herself had sealed some of her natural instincts as well. He gave a decisive half-nod to that. It made more sense.

Far more sense than Regulus and some nameless supposed-pureblood.

"Which family does she come from?"

Septimus frowned, giving a slight shake of his head to acknowledge the question, but also hinting that it was not a matter to be covered in a room with so many available ears.

Arthur frowned.

"Could you at least persuade Jun to allow us an audience?" Septimus hesitated. "Is there anything we could offer?"

"Any offerings would be an insult." Regulus said, firmly. "And I do not presume to possess the ability to persuade her to do anything. However, in light of your—situation—you are welcome to ask her yourselves. If I call, she will come."

"Then call!" Another noblewoman spoke up from the background. "Call the little lady dragon and have done with it all! She might as well make herself useful for once in all these-"

"She will never consent to breathe the air within the same room as you!" The hybrid shot back. "For which I would respectfully request that only those in need of her assistance be present." He scowled. "And I would not call her in the same room as you, Madam. I fear she might swallow you whole."

"Why you impertinent-!"

"Enough!" Septimus broke in. He sent two decidedly different glares to each speaker in turn. "That is quite enough. You will comport ourselves with the dignity that runs through our veins or you shall remove yourself from this situation. I will not tolerate these—embarrassing outburst again." He sighed. "Now then, Mister Black, you said she may be inclined to offer assistance?"

"Assistance?" Heron made a strangled sound in his throat. "Admit it! You're begging a filthy, dirty creature of-"

"She would say the same of you!" Regulus hissed. His shoulders twitched and jerked as if barely restrained. "And I daresay she'd be justified." His soft grey eyes narrowed. "We are so unworthy of your mention, so far beneath the notice of your social systems, yet when you stumble across a problem you cannot solve on your own wits, you call for us misfits—and yet, you still have the gall to insult us."

"Speak for yourself!" Heron threw back. "Your word has been tested—it is mostly acceptable. But the rest of your-"

"I no more speak for myself then I would deign to speak for them."

And so they argued.

By the time the arguments had subsided and most ruffled tempers were somewhat soothed, Regulus began to shift uneasily from side to side as if expecting some sort of physical retaliation. Several Lords and Ladies had already been ejected from the room, some of their own opinion others at Lord Weasley's heated insistence. For Regulus, he had grown tired of standing in the center of the room and being the center of attention.

From what he could see, things were far too complicated to deal with.

"Can you at least promise not to antagonize her?" Regulus asked, at last. "I will call for her, but please understand that things are not—perfect right now. Show the same courtesy you would expect of us."

"Of course." Cedrella shifted to stand. Her hazel-tinted eyes flickered. "We would definitely extend the same courtesy that is given to us."

"You will come to no harm." Septimus added.

"The last few times I have heard that phrase, I feared for my life." Regulus returned, evenly. "I understand that you wish to use me as a peacemaker between yourselves and my wife, however, I do protest on her behalf."

"She cannot speak for herself?" Lady Amanda snapped. "She is a woman who is capable of-"

"She would no more speak to you than you would willingly converse with her kind." The air of finality in his voice hinted at closing the subject. "Am I correct in assuming you have nothing more to say or offer?"

"Will you help us?"

"Are we your last resort?"

There was no answer.

Regulus half-smiled. "Then I suppose I shall mention your distinct lack of hexing me upon sight."

Soft grey eyes flickered about the room and settled on the doorway. Regulus sighed. His voice rose a few decibels higher and he spoke with a softer, lighter tone. "Jun? Show yourself please. I wish to speak to you."

A sudden silence crept over the room before Heron burst out in an angry exclamation. "You brought that madwoman with you?"

"What part of alone was so difficult to understand?" Lady Amanda was barely held in her seat by Tertius' restraining hand. She sent a glare to her husband, but reluctantly shut her mouth when his look didn't waver.

"The part where she is loath to allow me out of her sight with, and I quote 'those miscreant feather-brained idiots who treat you like dirt and would hex you to death on account of simply existing'." He smiled, thinly. "That part."

A few faces turned red at that admission.

"A moment ago, she could not come fast enough." He frowned. "And kindly refrain from addressing my wife as a 'madwoman' she is no more mad than you lot!" With that, Regulus ignored them. He waited for something that only he could hear approaching. A moment later, little feet came pattering through and a scaled blur of black, red and green streaked through the room. By the time it settled, it had the attention of everyone within the room.

A small, miniaturized dragon, with its tiny body wrapped around Regulus' neck, beady emerald eyes peeking out from around the spillover of hair from Regulus' black ponytail. The eyes blinked a few times, taking stock of the room.

Regulus smiled fondly at the little creature and reached up to chuck it under the chin with one feather-webbed hand. A happy purring sound filled the room, supplemented by a few contented gurgles. When the hand was removed, a sound akin to a whine replaced the happy noises as the little dragon screeched its displeasure. The hybrid merely bopped it lightly on the nose, avoiding the sharp-teeth that snapped at his fingers. "Greedy." He scolded, mildly. "Behave. You just healed my hands this morning, do you want to do it again?"

Emerald eyes blinked innocently at him. The flared head gave a little shake.

He scowled at it, playfully. "I did not think so." He sniffed.

The little creature stretched forward, revealing more of itself, slender, burgundy webbed rings with dark, forest-green spines and a completely glittering scaled body of black. It reached out with two, small forepaws to touch Regulus' cheek and gave a rough swipe of the forked tongue to his exposed ear. The hybrid-wizard jerked, awkwardly and tempered the look he sent at the little thing. It almost appeared to be smirking.

Fragile silence reigned for a moment, no one daring to speak.

Hybird wizard and miniature dragon stared at each other for a moment. Regulus sighed. "They are not going to hex me." He said, patiently. "They did not hex me when I walked through the door. Surely that is a good sign?" The little dragon made an inquisitive noise. "No, they are not going to hex you either." He frowned. "If they do, then I will attack them myself, there is no need to for you to retaliate." A contemplative noise hummed out. "I am not sure, love. I did not ask."

"Ask what?" Septimus watched this exchange with some degree of reluctance and apprehension, stayed by his wife's hand on his shoulder.

"Jun would like to know if you have informed the children of their choices."

"Choices?"

"Of course." Regulus furrowed his brow. "You did, did you not?" He looked to Lord Weasley. "You did tell the children there was an equal chance of them becoming Dragels as well as Torvaks, yes?"

Chaos shortly ensued—again.

By the time everyone had calmed down again, the little dragon was no longer appearing as smug as it had before. Instead, it looked rather bored and indifferent to the shouting matches beginning around them. After a time, it curled tighter 'round Regulus' neck and seemingly went to sleep.

"Enough!" Septimus' voice boomed through the squabbling nobles.

An embarrassed silence filled the room.

The Head of the Weasley clan scowled fiercely at each individual. "If you cannot properly comport yourself, then leave!" He frowned. "Arthur, they are your children. I trust you spoke to them at length?" The frown deepened. "I was unaware that there were—choices."

Arthur gave a quick nod. He had. Though he had not had enough time to explain all the finer points, he thought he'd managed a decent enough job. At the very least, the children would know what to expect from an impending creature inheritance and they would understand something of the proud Torvak culture. He did not bother to answer the unspoken question in his father's statement. He hadn't known either. He'd assumed his wife had suppressed everything Dragel in the children and the Torvak had simply lain dormant.

There was a snorting, scoffing sound and it drew attention to the still standing Regulus in the center of the room. The formerly sleeping dragon had uncurled itself and fallen, hanging only by the forepaws to Regulus' right shoulder. The body twisted, writhed and lengthened until it swelled in size and arched, curved hind feet rested tentatively on the ground. The morph continued the wings flaring out and growing to rather impressive proportions, shielding the changing body from view as it began to take on decidedly feministic traits.

Black scales, burgundy wings and rich-forest green spines. The wings slowly folded themselves away and a tall, woman stood in its place, the transformation complete. She was clad in a low-slung skirt with generous slits up the sides to show her pale skin half-melded into the black scales still lining her body and a simple, band of green cloth wound 'round her chest, serving as a bustier.

What actually caught Arthur's eye, wasn't the massive exposure of skin, the wings folding back or the black scales. It was the fierce expression, rich, crimson hair and startlingly familiar green eyes, set in a face he had never seen before.

Avada Kedavra green eyes.

Lily.

The name whispered through his mind. Arthur swallowed and made a move to pinch himself before he remembered the audience around him. There were some folks watching his every move. He managed to mask his surprise, just barely, even though he knew the faint twitch of his eyebrows had not been lost on his father. It was difficult to remain impassive with such a shock.

Jun was the near replica of the late Lily Potter.

It took a more careful look to find the differences, but Arthur could pick them out after a few moments. Jun's face was longer, broader and older than he could ever recall seeing of Lily Potter. She was at least a head taller than Regulus who was definitely no short sprout. Her shoulders were wide and broad, a less ladylike appearance than Lily kept about her. Jun's eyes were a brighter green than Harry's—and Merlin knew those eyes were his Lily's trademark—to finish, Jun's hair was the closest hue of near crimson he'd ever seen. Lily's had been lighter, softer and more natural—even a few shades below Molly's own curly crop. Arthur swallowed hard and looked away to gather himself together.

He could not afford to think of Molly now.

Not now.

Not when he had to be strong and present for his children.

The rituals would be bad enough, but now—he suppressed a shudder. He wished his father had warned him that there was a Dragel amongst them. Then again, he could understand that while his initial return had been approved and accepted, he would still have to earn back every iota of respect, loyalty and honor.

"Arthur, this is Jun." Septimus inclined his head. "She may be able to help."

"I can do my own introductions, thank you kindly, Lord Weasley." Jun's voice was low pitched and achingly familiar.

Arthur swallowed hard. She sounded almost like Lily.

A look of complete disdain overtook her features as she swept the room with a single, burning emerald-eyed gaze. "And I need none." Her piercing eyes settled on Fleur and then behind her to Bill. They narrowed, meaningfully, before they moved on to Arthur. "I take it you are that miserable wretch of a father?"

Regulus moved forward, resting a hand on his wife's shoulder.

She snorted.

The potential cries were muffled with a look from Septimus. He frowned in the lady's general direction, but did not speak.

Regulus leaned close. "Could you help them nicely, love?"

"Not bloody likely!" She leaned away from the calming hand he rested on her shoulder.

He gently brushed his lips along one still-scaled cheek. Black scales melted into creamy, freckle-less skin.

A long-suffering sigh left her lips. Then she looked directly at Arthur once more. "Why do you want them off?"

He stared at her.

The emerald eyes did not waver. "Your wife—submissive or a carrier—she bore them for you? I cannot see the entirety of her seal, as she had one of your kind assist. But there is no reason to remove them. I dearly hope these are not all your children."

Arthur bristled at the condescending tone. She knew nothing of him! Nothing of his family nor of their circumstances. But before he could retort, his mother spoke in his defense.

"We did not ask you here for a second opinion, madam." Cedrella moved to stand in front of her husband. Soft hazel eyes were now snapping with barely restrained emotion. "And I could not possibly expect you to understand that which-"

"They are not meant to harm." Jun continued, as if she'd never been interrupted. "They will wear off on their own, most likely and to take the children away from their mother, you may as well simply kill her. For she will be an empty, heartless, soulless shell, especially if you were all she had."

The words stabbed deep inside of him and Arthur held her gaze. He could not let her know how those words had affected them. He had to be strong. He had to keep the end goal in sight. "I still wish for them to be removed." He said, evenly. "Whether they are harmless or not, is of no concern. I never have nor will I ever, support the suppression of a child when it comes to their magic, their future and-"

"I will need casting grounds." Jun turned her back to them, her emerald eyes searching Regulus' worried face. "I shall be fine, Reg." She leaned close enough to touch her forehead to his proffered, feathered shoulder. "I would swear not to hex any of them, but that would be asking too much."

Her husband nearly laughed. His lips twitched faintly. "That would, wouldn't it?" He sighed. "What size?"

"You know my runic circles." She yawned into his shoulder and her own twitched, faintly as if her wings wished to present themselves once more. "Something about that size."

"Can we clear this room?" Regulus turned to Septimus, a winged arm curling possessively around his wife. "Is there room to stand in the halls?"

"Don't want an audience." Jun mumbled.

Regulus stroked her fiery hair in response. "If there is, then we can use this room and start as soon as you are ready."

"Now?" Heron stared at him, incredulously. "No preparations?"

Jun snorted and her head lifted. "What kind of preparations could I possibly need?" She scoffed.

Lady Amanda immediately drew a sign in the air and touched it to her forehead as she'd done earlier. "You will not be doing any of your forbidden arts in this ancestral manor!" She glowered. "These are pure rooms, untainted with-!"

Regulus immediately clapped a hand over Jun's mouth, his grey eyes hardening at once. He silently dared her to speak and for a moment, the awkward silence resumed. After a long moment, he jerked his hand away, holding a bloodied palm. Jun licked her lips, defiantly, the delicate curve of fangs showing with each sensual swipe. He turned away from her, the heavy look still in his eyes. "You asked us here of your own accord. We can help you here and now, but I cannot do any more. Jun will continue from here and if you wish for her to continue, then I would suggest paying attention to her requests, unless these children really are not your foremost priority." He frowned. "And I shall thank you to keep your archaic beliefs to yourself, Lady Amanda. Magic is only as light or dark as you make it to be and there is nothing more sacred to swear on than the very life fluid in our veins—blood!" Here, he held up his still bleeding hand. His wing trembled, faintly.

Jun shuffled to stand beside him and took his hand, lifting it to her mouth. She laved it quickly, tending to the wound with expertise and it healed before their very eyes. Emerald eyes darkened with a flicker of red. "You hypocrite. You wouldn't let me stay near Regulus—even though you call him a misfit—unless you could bind me as well. I allowed it, because I care for him! He is worth it." The words were hissed. "But you are a silly, foolish woman to think that bindings can tear apart that which fate has thrown together."

"Enough." Septimus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Speculation and old arguments will not benefit either of us." He sighed. "I take it you are ready, Lady Black?" The emphasis on her title brought a sour look to her face. He nodded. "I thought so. Everyone, out!"

The room cleared in short order.

Jun arranged her casting grounds.

She cleared the room of everything and then cast a few cleaning spells at the cleared space. She spoke to Regulus who produced a pouch of powdered golden dust from one trouser pocket. With that in hand, she sprinkled it in a large, double-banded circle. A well of ink was produced as well, from Regulus' trouser pockets and she painted several runes along the inner and outer rim of each circle present.

Arthur and the children remained, Septimus and his family as well.

"Bill, you're first." Arthur urged his eldest forward when Jun had gestured toward Ron.

The Dragel beauty perked a brow. "Really? How kind of you to overlook my preference."

Regulus clicked his tongue lightly against his teeth.

Jun sniffed. "When you enter the circle here," she pointed to the clear space between two runes. "You will activate a soundproof barrier. I need absolute silence to concentrate." Her emerald eyes gleamed. "If you break my concentration—you break the child." The weight in her voice brooked no room for argument nor complaint. "Regulus, you will be my gauge—as usual—if something is wrong, you need not hesitate."

"Always." He murmured.

Her lips pursed for a moment then she heaved a sigh. "By gauge, I mean that if Regulus senses anything amiss, so will I. So please be kind to him, because if that disturbs me, then I daresay there will be plenty of pieces leftover for everyone."

Cedrella bristled—barely restrained by Septimus' arms wrapping around her shoulders from behind.

"I believe you have made your point clear," Septimus began. "We understand. Now, if you could-"

Jun stepped through her own circle and moved to stand in the blank, circular center. She closed her eyes.

"If you bound her," Arthur nodded towards the standing figure. "Then how is she supposed to help? Molly couldn't even release her half of the bindings, because she was bound."

Regulus merely smiled. "Some things are best left unexplained, wouldn't you agree?"

No. Arthur protested, silently. I most certainly do not! His gave riveted on Bill who had reluctantly left Fleur's arms, entering the circle as he'd been instructed. The moment he stepped through a wall of neon yellow fire shot up to the ceiling, forming a defensive, soundproof barrier. Arthur sucked in a quick breath. He felt his chest squeeze tight.

Molly's smiling face flickered in the back of his mind.

Bill perked a brow as neon yellow fire burst into existence and flared high enough to touch the tall, vaulted ceiling in the meeting room. That was impressive. He gave a faint nod of his head, feeling those piercing emerald eyes settling on him—and looked away.

Jun gave a snort. "Why are you wearing a glamour?"

"Pardon?"

"Oh don't give me that, darling," Jun chuckled. "I do not care who you are hiding it from, it is none of my business, but it is nothing to be ashamed of."

Bill lifted his head to meet her gaze squarely. "You are right," he agreed. "It is none of your business. What is it I need to do for this to work?" His gaze flickered to the right, where he'd left Fleur.

"There is no rush." Jun yawned. "None at all."

"Runic circles require a constant drain of magical energy." Bill countered. "It wouldn't be fair to you, with my-"

"There is no rush." Jun repeated, unconcernedly. "I am quite fine and I hope the same will be true for you. It does not matter how and when they bind me, for whatever reason. You cannot judge that which you have not experienced, yes?"

The oldest Weasley son blinked.

"Good lad." She half-smiled. "They do not know me. They do not know what I have been through, therefore, it does not work, hm? The power of the mind is a beautiful thing. Now, about that glamour you're wearing, there's a little bit of a problem, see? You will have to take it off of your own accord, or it might get in the way. Now, do listen carefully, because I hate to repeat myself. It puts me to sleep." She pointed to the floor. "Lie down, spread your arms and legs, feet there." She pointed towards the open doorway where the boy's father and siblings watched. "And whatever you do, try not to fight me and I shall try to refrain from pointless phrases such as 'it will be alright' and 'the pain will pass' alright?"

The glamour came off to reveal three gouged clawmarks in an otherwise perfect face.

Jun sighed, softly. She crouched down beside Bill's prone figure and lightly traced her fingers over the cursed scares. "I take it your father would be furious to know?" She fingered each jagged stripe.

Bill nearly smiled. "Something like that." He drew in a breath. "What are you going to do?"

"Well, that's actually quite easy, see, our kind are more than capable of answering for themselves and once you are over the age of ten, you may make certain choices on your own." Jun tapped the redhead's nose. "You are over ten, so I shall treat you like the adult you are, but I will give you the consideration of our kind." She settled comfortably beside him. The age seemed to lift from her face as she stared down at him.

"Did you know your mother was Dragel?"

"Well, the choice is yours really. Dragel or Torvak." Jun frowned. "With one exception." The sorrowful expression on her face was tempered with the faint light in her emerald eyes. "I'm afraid you're too old."

Bill gave a start. "What?"

"Your mother is very skilled in a rare branch of magic." Jun patted his chest. "Calm yourself. She used family magic to bind you, with pure intention and all of her hopes and wishes for your future. You are twenty-six years old. One year too late. Your seals will burn out on their own by the end of this year. They worked just as they were supposed to."

"So why am I…?"

"Easy answered, pet." She winked. "The reason I said the seals were not destructive, really, is because in your case, they were not. She cast these perfectly. They were meant to devour your creature sides and leave you as an exceptional wizard."

Bill's jaw dropped. Snatches of memory, past experiences and his sudden success at Gringotts flickered through his mind. "Exceptional?" He repeated.

"Your Dragel ate your Torvak." She poked his cheek. "The only inclinations I can call out from you right now, would be to stabilize the werewolf in you." She frowned. "Speaking of which, how stupid could you be to let it so close?"

"I was defending a friend."

"Injured?"

"Of course."

"Smart answer." Jun countered. "I take it you were the one with the injury. It lives?"

"My friend is fine."

Jun smothered a laugh. "Meaning that the wolf is dead. You are a remarkable young man, William."

"Bill."

"Very well then, Bill." She rose in a single fluid movement. "Has there been anything you do not wish to deal with?"

"What?"

"There are traces of Torvak within you, I could call it to the front, however…"

"However?"

"However, in light of your—wolfish tendencies—the Torvak in you would not accept that. Your blood would fight and it would—hurt."

"What do you suggest?"

"Ideally? Moon-bathing." Jun said, matter-of-factly. "There are cursed wolves and then there are those who are loyal to the moon." She stood over him and cracked her knuckles. She stood, one foot on each side of him, her skirt pooling lightly on his stomach. "Pick a lunar cycle and do something with that lovely veela of yours. The curse will never deepen beyond that which it has." She licked her lips. "And craving a rare steak every now and again is not a problem."

A series of shapes, lines and dots began to emerge from her skin, neat rows and sections. They surfaced, like magical tattoos and then they began to glow.

Suddenly, Bill understood. He'd worked with one a long time ago—in the early years when he'd started with Gringotts. "Rune master."

Cherry red lips curved into a smirk. "I prefer Rune Mistress, but it is nothing to quibble over."

"They don't know, do they?" The words came out before he could check them.

"Regulus knows." Jun's emerald eyes flared green. "And he is the only one who needs to. Would you like me to remove the seals anyway? They will fade on their own, you will notice a gradual increase in your magic until they fade completely."

"How long?"

"By the end of this year, possibly the next. It is not harmful to you, as you have outgrown it."

"Then leave it."

"As you wish." Jun pricked her thumb on one fang and traced the rune for wolf in the palm of her other hand. She held it downward, facing him, so he could see it. It flared and glowed to life, the red burning black and the black burning into a rich, bright green. "I will call out the wolf in you and not the curse." She whispered. "Do you understand?"

Bill met her gaze. He nodded.

"Do you trust me?"

"…yes."

"Grantea ineekea solum-" within the confines of the neon fire, the circular rings began to glow an eerie green. "Shakshi. Wolf."

The green circles hummed to life and magic poured into the confined space, thick, rich and stifling. It swarmed frantically around the two present and then fashioned itself into a wispy, wolfish-image. Bill found himself frozen as magical bindings activated, holding him immobile on the floor. He worked to push away the thought of fear, the thought of rejection and to find the resolve that had led him to cast the glamour over himself in the first place.

It sprang up strongly and he clung to it.

The ethereal wisp of the green wolf hovered over him. A sudden, delightful tingle of acceptance blossomed inside him. It yanked one memory to the forefront.

"You are different, Bill." Molly kissed his forehead, smoothing back his long hair. She tugged a few strands for good measure, then straightened the collar of his wizarding robes. "You really should cut it."

"Maybe." He stayed her hand, holding it for a moment.

"Definitely." Her smile trembled.

"Bye Mum." He kissed her cheek.

She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Take care of yourself. Call me."

"Yes Mum."

The hug she gave him tingled and burned for hours afterwards. It warmed him as the portkey whisked him away to the mysteries of a new land, a new life and a new home.

The memory faded. Bill blinked, working to return himself to the present. That memory of her was a special one. He'd been looking forward to seeing her. He'd been worried when his father had sent word. He hadn't been thinking of something like this at all.

"Open." Jun murmured.

Bill felt his mouth open of its own accord. Focus. He reminded himself, preparing for the inevitable.

Fear melted away to fascination. He stared at the magnificent face before him, the partially formed body of the wolf hovering in midair. The dark eyes pierced through to his very soul.

The cursed scars on his cheek ached.

The wolf lunged.

When Bill gained consciousness once more, he found himself clutching the arms cradling him close. Everything had changed. Sight, sound and smell was now sharper, deeper than he recalled.

Jun chuckled overhead. "There is no need to be so—generous in your affection." She drawled. "Your veela might wish to draw and quarter me if you keep this up."

A substantial blush decorated Bill's face and he pulled away. His blue eyes shone with a sharper, clearer light. He stood up and offered a hand to the crouched Jun. She accepted it with a nod of her head.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He turned to step through the fire and hesitated. Should he cast the glamour again? All former worries and thoughts in regards to the ugly scars had been smoothed away and replaced by a new respect for the shared spirit of the wolf that now resided within him. He felt stronger and lighter than he had in years. Curse-breaking was not a light profession by any means. The constant need to drive himself further and harder had quite nearly sucked the joy from his talents. Then there had been that horrible night where he'd leapt in front of a werewolf—for the sake of a friend.

It was a new feeling that settled over him, one of proud contentment. A realization that he was closer to being at peace with himself than he had ever been in the past few years. Relief prickled through him in enlightening stabs. He was suddenly grateful to this mystery dragon-woman with the powerful magic and loud mouth. He almost wished the seals hadn't quite worked so that he could've told her to call out his Dragel side.

To know what it would've been like to be a powerful creature like her, to understand that hidden strength and quiet confidence that his mother had always cloaked around her. But somehow, it didn't feel like a horrible injustice, it felt like a spiral of warmth that nestled in his gut. He reached one hand towards the fire—he would not cast the glamour. There was nothing to hide.

"It will not burn you."

"Ah." He touched the flames. They were cool and ticklish. He smiled.

"…Bill?"

"Yes?"

"You are not a dark creature."

He half-smiled. "I know."

When Bill stepped through the curtain of flame, Fleur launched herself at the redhead wizard, spouting a flurry of French before she enthusiastically snogged him backwards a few steps. His eyebrows danced up while his arms automatically curved around her. He returned the welcome as warmly as his present company would allow.

"Oh Bill!" Fleur hugged him tight and rubbed her face against his chest. "I was so worried!"

"Sh. It's fine." He soothed, rubbing her back and then shoulders. He rested his chin on her head and smiled.

"Bill?" Arthur's voice was slightly strangled. "Your face-"

Bill smiled. "Accident at work this year." His lips gave a faint quirk. "It is nothing to worry about."

A sharp intake of air came from Septimus standing off to the farthest corner of the room. Cedrella gripped her husband's arm, a horrified look plastered on her face. They exchanged a glance.

Arthur found his voice first. "The inheritance…?"

"She said it was too late." Bill tilted his head to the side. The softest of smiles played about his face.

The shock on Arthur's face melted away to a look of betrayal as sharp eyes caught sight of the scarred cheek. "You wore a glamour?"

Harry stirred faintly in Charlie's arms. He snuggled close, burying his nose in Charlie's warm neck and breathing in the faintly smoky scent that had nothing to do with smoke and everything to do with Charlie. It comforted and soothed his raw nerves and troubled thoughts. His sleepy mind stirred, moving towards wakefulness as he processed the fact that he had fallen asleep in Theo's arms and woken in Charlie's.

Not that it was a problem…

Harry frowned. Emerald eyes popped open. He twisted carefully and tiredly scanned the tangles of sheet and duvet. Theo had been there before. He'd been sure of it. He'd specifically chosen Theo's arms to fall asleep in.

"Harry?" Charlie slurred. "Whas' wrong?"

"Theo?" Harry gave an experimental wriggle. "Where's Theo?"

Charlie yawned, slackening and releasing his grip. "Don't know. Said he could sleep. Figured he'd be back."

That answer did not sit very well with Harry. He could recall the conversation just hours ago and the pure agony he'd seen reflected in his Alpha's eyes every time Harry made light of something that wasn't quite—normal. But Harry had tried his best to ignore it. He'd had to grow up early and quickly. It was no one's fault. It was pointless to point fingers.

He simply had to make the best of everything.

"Charlie?" Harry sat up, turning to see that Charlie had already half-dozed off. He smiled and leaned over to pat the redhead. Charlie was probably more mixed up than he was. But he was doing splendidly, Harry mused. He stretched and yawned, gathering his thoughts together. There were two very distinct bubbles of energy in his chest, one happy, sleepy-ish and humming. Harry wrote that one off as the snoozing Charlie and focused his attention on the other one.

This one was muted, cautious and very, very distraught.

Harry blinked. The moment that flood of emotion registered, sleep became the furthest thing on his mind. Theo. Something was wrong. Harry rolled over, swinging his feet off the bed to rest on the floor. He stood for all of a handful of seconds, before an painful squeak left his lips and he crumpled to the floor.

"Harry!" Charlie fairly exploded off the bed, half-vaulting, half-scrambling over the bed to land on the floor beside Harry's trembling body. "Harry?"

"Owww." Harry winced. He managed a tight smile.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

"Hurts." Harry hissed, leaning his head back to rest on Charlie's available shoulder as his beta cradled him from behind. Charlie's hands hovered, frantic, uncertain, worry clear in his blue eyes. Harry bit his lip, hard. He couldn't remember if Quinn had mentioned anything about any kind of aftershock, but everything hurt! I've had worse. I've had worse. I've had worse. He chanted in his head, over and over, until he could settle in the mental numbness the repetition offered. His fangs ached and he had the sudden urge to bite something—or someone. He grimaced. Theo had said not to bite Charlie.

"Okay." Charlie took a breath. "Potion." He decided. "A pain reliever, maybe? Did that Quinn fellow say anything about aftereffects?"

"Can't remember."

"Alright. Don't worry. It'll be fine. You'll be fine." Charlie frowned. "I'll get Severus and-"

"No." Harry grabbed his arm. "Don't leave."

"Harry-"

"Theo." Harry implored. Emerald eyes burned brightly. His wrapped arms burned. "Want Theo."

Charlie hesitated for all of a split-second, before he swooped up Harry in his arms and strode toward the bedroom door.

A/N: I'm not too sure about this chapter, but it is finished, so I'll leave that up to y'all to judge. Sorry, no cute!Draco in this one, I ran out of room... :(

Yes, we will see the individual Weasley children as the seals are removed, I simply could only fit Bill in this one before I went back to Harry. The spell Jun uses means, "Grant me the right to do what I am doing-and then, she chooses to activate the wolf side in Bill. She is a Nameless Dragel, her gift, as Bill noted, is Runes.

unneeded--Yes, Blood Seals are the worst thing to put on a Dragel, right next to a Soul Seal(of which Harry has one). Severus may have hated "potter's spawn" but even to let that happen--it's horrible. :) Glad you liked Regulus' entrance. I always liked him. :)

Jan--Thank you! I've about caught up to where I want to be, so there's more Quinn coming up and then all the Seals will be coming off, both Harry's and the Weasleys!

~Scion
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There Be Dragons, Harry