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Night Flight	By : Massanie Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 77571 -:- 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
- 8
- 9
- 10
CHAPTER 9: Adler

CHAPTER NOTES:

Thanks so very much for the nice reviews!
And please be nice, this is only the second lemon I've ever written, so I'm still kind of nervous about it...

Let me know what you think!

Soft lips brushed over the hollow of his throat enticingly, barely touching him at all, and he could feel warm breath caressing his sensitive skin, teasingly blowing over the wet trail that his lover's tongue must have left behind moments earlier, when his brain had still been too clouded by sleep to take notice. He could feel the little hairs on his skin rising in response with the pleasure of it and he arched upwards, seeking more contact, stretching his shoulders that itched with the need to release his wings.

"Mmm." God! How he loved waking like this…
He tried to bring up his hands to stroke over those strong shoulders, fully intending to let them glide downwards and tease over the skin on his lover's side and let them twine around his torso to gain enough leverage to reverse their positions. But he found himself unable to and he looked up: his hands were tied to the headboard, loosely enough to not hurt him but firmly enough to bereave him of the chance to break free.

Fixing his glare on his lover's form, he growled lowly in open annoyance. He wanted to touch!

"Blaise!"
The lips that were currently working their way down Draco's chest stopped, curling into a wicked smile against his already feverish skin. "Hmm?" The Italian hummed inquisitively before sucking one of the blonde's nipples into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth, torturing the small nub with his tongue.
Draco hissed and threw his head back, bucking against his lover, before falling down onto the soft mattress again. "Fuck, Blaaaaiise!" He moaned and bit his lower lip sharply.

Blaise chuckled lowly against his flesh and started to pinch Draco's other nipple, toying with it while still sucking, licking and kissing the one beneath his lips. Jolts of searing pleasure burned their way down through Draco's body directly to his groin, which was quickly becoming the centre of his circulation and gods, the feeling was wonderful and maddening and oh, so not enough!

He wanted more, more contact, more pleasure, he wanted to bury his cock in Blaise's tight heat or watch his lips wrapped around his length, deep throating him skilfully. Or goddammit, he wanted for his lover to take him, possess him. Anything, just anything, something…
But Blaise merely teased his way down to his navel, dipping his tongue inside for a moment, relishing in the desperate moans that action elicited from his platinum blond treasure.
"God, Blaise, untie me!"
"What was it you said to Harry? 'I think not'." And just like that, the tanned Italian followed the line of hair over the rippled, quivering muscles of Draco's abdomen, ever downwards to where his prize awaited him, nestled between blond locks.

"I need to have you now. And I sure as hell don't want you to interfere!"
Whatever Draco's answer would have been, it was washed away in sudden pleasure as surely as any unanchored thing by a tsunami as Blaise gripped him, weighing his hardening length in his palm, stroking once, twice and sending spikes of pleasure through Draco's body that drowned his mind in a deep, impenetrable haze of pure bliss.

It stopped too soon, as Blaise's hand uncurled from around his prick, leaving merely one finger behind to move tantalizingly over the thick vein on the underside. Draco moaned and almost whimpered out of desperation, helplessly pulling at his bonds and flexing his hips.
"Sshh, Dragon." Blaise murmured huskily, his free hand ghosting over the blonde's alabaster thigh in calming, soothing circles.

Draco bit his lips, frustrated beyond measure. Damn it, what accursed thing had caused the bastard to think Draco needed soothing? God, by Mordred and his twisted mother and the Seven Sisters and who else "Fuck me, now!"
His very annoyed outcry was answered with a deep chuckle that seemed to reverberate through his body and gods, Blaise seemed to be in one of his cruel mindsets because he closed lithe fingers around the base of Draco's cock in an imitation of a cock ring to keep him from coming and then he bend down to press a light kiss on the tip of his lover's raging erection. His tongue dove out to tease over the slit, pressing in for but a moment and making Draco cry out in abandon and flex his hip in a futile attempt of getting deeper into that hot mouth.

Blaise, the accursed devil, pulled back and waited a moment, before repeating his actions and this time, his lover managed to keep from moving, but he hissed a litany of curses and swearwords nonetheless and his head rolled from side to side as Blaise finally took him in, sucking and licking and humming! Draco would have come from the vibrations that moment if not for the tight ring of fingers still wrapped around the base of his cock.

Gods, how he wished Blaise would straddle him and lower himself onto his aching need and just fuck himself hard and deep and fast. Or stop teasing and end his torment in another way…

"Jerk!"

"I love it when you sweet-talk during sex." The dark Italian murmured amusedly against his cock, the deep baritone of his voice doing unspeakable things to Draco.

But it seemed Blaise was taking pity on him: he withdrew and a moment later Draco shuddered at the sudden cool wetness between his legs in consequence to the muttered cleaning and lubrication charms. Persisting yet gentle hands urged his legs up into a bend position that caused his back to bend and his ass to stick into the air, easily accessible for his lover.

And then the thick head of Blaise's oil covered hard-on nudged against his tight, unstretched entrance and slowly, ever so slowly the bastard pushed downwards and in, causing the wrinkled skin to stretch around his penetrating flesh with a shallow, burning pain and Draco hissed but he didn't want it to stop.

Insistently he tugged at the hands holding his ankles apart and they released him, gripping his hips tightly instead, leaving Draco free to wrap them around his lover's chest.
Contracting his strong leg muscles, Draco pulled the tanned Italian close, burying him deep inside him in one go. Twin groans filled the air, one of pure pleasure, one tinted with pain.

"Now fuck me!" Draco whispered fiercely, even though he knew that he would feel it for many hours if the other moved now without him having a chance to adapt to the considerable size invading his body. Grey eyes flashed in a silent challenge and for a moment Blaise wondered how such a cold colour like that ice-grey could burn so hot.
But he obliged and soon, his hips were slamming forwards, the sound of flesh hitting flesh filling the room. Draco tried to counter each of the hard thrusts one by one but he didn't have much leverage and that in itself was frustrating but rather quickly forgotten as Blaise pounded his prostrate, hitting it with every violent flexing of his hips.

Draco moaned and hissed and Blaise bit his lips, ever the silent one, his muscles tensing and quivering under the onslaught of sensations.
"Harder!" the blonde demanded and Blaise forcefully pushed into him, his pace brutal, exactly how Draco wanted it. The two lovers locked gazes, feverish, piercing, burning, and Blaise could feel the walls around his flesh tightening erratically and not even half a dozen thrusts later, Draco came with a hoarse outcry, his seed splashing against the tanned, smooth skin of Blaise's stomach.
Blaise threw his head back, his mouth opened in a silent scream of pleasure as he kept on thrusting into the tight heat. Beneath him Draco moaned helplessly, shaken by the powerful sensations of his orgasm that still flooded his whole body and left his nerves raw. It didn't help any that his lover was still pounding into him without restraint as if in a frenzy, his cock sliding torturously over the overwrought nerve endings deep within him.

Soon Draco's legs were giving out, but before he could lower them from their place around the other man's chest, Blaise grabbed them at his ankles once more, bending them towards Draco's chest, the new position allowing him a deeper penetration, a fact he took advantage of immediately.
He bowed over the bend form of his lover, looming over him and watching him writhe with every push, his fiancé, the pale beauty beneath him who was all tied up for him and completely and utterly at his mercy, trusting him to never use it against him.
And with that thought, Blaise finally tensed and with a last deep thrust he spilled himself into the tight channel of his lover.
Moments passed with neither of them moving, just basking in the afterglow and breathing, or panting rather. Then, equally as gently as he had been forceful and violent earlier, Blaise pulled out, grimacing sympathetically at the small wince that got him.

"Sorry." He whispered, bringing one shivering hand to caress Draco's face.
"Don't be. I asked for it. But could you untie me now?" Draco asked, wriggling his wrists for emphasis.
Blaise chuckled as he reached for his wand and flicked it at the ties to release them. "Mmm. But you were glorious." Mischievously he cocked his head and smirked. "Nonetheless we should hurry and clean up if we want to speak to your father before getting Harry for breakfast."
Draco blinked, then looked up, aghast. "God, Blaise, my father! Merlin, I'll kill you! Did you have to be so rough knowing we'd meet with him? If I can't walk or sit down in front of him without wincing, I'll castrate you! Would rid me of some major problems!"
Blaise merely grinned completely unabashed "Your fault for not remembering it before asking me to do you harder."
"You could have reminded me." Draco grumbled ill-humoured as he stood, wincing at the soreness in his nether regions.
"Oh, come, Dragon: it's all a question of control, endurance and your skill as an actor..."

Draco was rather good in all three of those, as things turned out not even half an hour later. He strode into Blaise's conference room as if he owned it, his steps sure, measured and graceful and he even managed not to glare at his lover's smirk.
The long conference room that looked more like a hall or a galleria than an actual room, was at the eastern side of the manor, and thus, the sun shone brightly into it through the large, high windows that were embedded in the outer wall in regular distances. The natural light swathed the pale walls in a golden hue, interacting with the cleverly and artfully painted wallpaper, that was kept in different tones of sandstone and beiges to form an intriguing yet subtle play of colours. The whole length of the room's arched ceiling was adorned with a detailed fresco showing the Roman Pantheon in all its glory: the ruling triumvirate consisting of Jupiter, Juno and Minerva with her owl and around them Apollo with his Kithara and Mars who was armed with a spear and shield, Diana surrounded with trees and animals, the beautiful Venus, Ceres next to a wheat sheaf; there was Vesta, the goddess of hearth, home and family, and not far from her sat Bacchus amidst his grape vines. Mercury was there with his winged sandals and Neptune and Amor with trident and bow, Asclepius (the god of medicine who had been known in both Greece and Italy) and Vulcan.
It was a sight that both Blaise and Draco knew well enough by now to not be distracted by it, even though the richness of detail, the beauty and finery of it were astounding. Without hesitating or slowing down both of them crossed the room, passing a row of stiff and uncomfortable looking chairs that were arranged around a long U-shaped table that dominated the room and opened towards a seemingly naked wall on the other side.
While Draco sat down on one side of the table, Blaise approached a small, two-drawer dresser standing in the corner next to the blank wall and casually opened the top drawer. His fingers glided over the filing system in it with practiced ease, briefing through the labelled folders until he found what he had searched for under the name of 'Malfoy Manor'. Swiftly Blaise took out the folder and opened it, and the velvet-lined envelope revealed a small rectangular mirror, barely as large as a man's hand.

Careful to not touch the reflective surface and dirty it with his fingerprints, Blaise took the mirror and held it, shoulder-high, against the wall. As the levitation charm that covered the wall hummed against his fingertips, he let go and watched for a moment as the silver thing floated in the air, mere centimetres away from the wallpaper.
"Engorgio." He voiced, careful to speak clearly and pronounce the spell correctly and minding his wand movement. The mirror was quite valuable, no need to damage it with a poorly casted spell. Immediately the mirror started to grow until it covered the whole side of the room, reflecting the conference table, the ceiling fresco and in front of it all, Draco and Blaise.
"Lucius Malfoy."

And with that a ripple went through the silvery surface, the colours it showed mixed and swirled together. They rearranged themselves and then, moments later a new room took form, or rather one side of another room in Malfoy Manor. It was a kind of two way mirror that formed a visual and acoustic connection between Malfoy and Lanai Manor. The set-up had been expensive but it was a much more comfortable and clean way of communication and furthermore it enabled the owners of the respective pair of mirrors to converse cross-border, which was not possible when using the floo connections due to the different networks.
This specific mirror was connected to Draco's home and currently showed a room in Malfoy Manor and with it, a peculiar foursome already waiting for the engaged couple: right in the front, on an arm chair each sat Lucius, Narcissa, Amalyne and, surprisingly enough, Severus. The wall behind them was covered in portraits of, as Draco noticed with a surprised frown, some of his ancestors, all of whom looked at them with an air of dignity and solemnity worth of any Malfoy. It was in all honesty not the sight that Blaise and Draco had expected to see: they had agreed with their parents to meet in the mornings of every second day and keep them informed about the newly fledged Vykélari. They had not expected for Draco's godfather to be there also and neither for all of the portraits. Draco knew very well that those used to hang in the family gallery and so his father or his mother seemed to have deliberately decided for them to join their conversation; for what reason, he couldn't tell.

And then there was the fact that his father would usually hold mirror-meetings in his study and not in the parlour the foursome currently occupied. Though Draco guessed that might have something to do with the amount of portraits hanging on the far wall, there would never have been space enough for them in his father's study, stuffed with book shelves as it was. Merlin, there must have been more than a dozen pictures of varying sizes…
"Good morn…" Blaise started but was soon interrupted by his former teacher's cutting voice.

"You are late!"
"Behave, Severus." Lucius drawled. "Do I have to remind you: It is the duty of a godfather to spoil his godson."
"There was never a reason to do that, seeing as you managed to spoil him enough for a whole league of godfathers."
"Oh, be quiet!" Narcissa said before turning to her son and soon-to-be son-in-law with a smile.

"You look wonderful, the two of you. Italy becomes you well, it seems. Maybe I should visit sometime."
"I would gladly accompany you, dearest, it can be stunningly beautiful with the right guide." Amalyne smiled at her friend. And if 'sometime' became 'soon', they could maybe intervene in a guiding capacity in certain, very important matters.
"Uhm." Draco blinked in a very undignified matter, but really after having been shagged senseless half an hour before and with his behind still stinging as a reminder whenever he moved, he just couldn't cope very well with such unexpected bouts of surrealism.

"What is all of this?" he gestured towards the portraits, which huffed in indignation at his very unmalfoyish behaviour.
"These are the last seven Malfoys who mated with submissive Vykélari and of course their husbands." Lucius answered with a self-congratulatory half-smile. "I thought we might as well leave the mirror-connection open so that you can consult them whenever you have a question concerning your charge. How is he, by the way?"
"Still in denial, I'm afraid." Blaise said with a sigh. "We had a small … incident … yesterday. Upon hearing that he was a submissive he lost it and tried to escape the manor via the floo connection."
Severus snorted disgustedly. "I told you, he is more trouble than he is worth."
Draco and Blaise both frowned at the former head of Slytherin house with irritation and, more importantly, confusion: when had they stopped taking pleasure in the derogatory things their former professor never failed to say about the Gryffindor Golden Boy?
"Lucius," one of the portraits drawled. "You should get rid of that boy! Too intellectually challenged to be more than an inferior to a Malfoy and too insubordinate to be just that."
"Careful, Marcus, or Cygnus will throttle you in your painting." The current Malfoy patriarch answered without looking back. The portrait however, fell silent. Cygnus was notorious for his cruelty as well as for his fatherly affection towards a certain potions master. And there were certain nasty things a portrait could do to another portrait.
Severus smirked quietly to himself.
"In any way: " another portrait said calmly, completely ignoring the petty bickering around him "a submissive is worth whatever trouble he might cause during courting. Especially some." his eyes gleamed within the painting with an intelligent sparkle, attester to his ruthlessly calculative persona. He was a tall, formidable looking young man in his dark, unpretentious dress robe that was adorned only with silver edging; his platinum blond hair, a trademark of his family, flowed down his shoulders in rich waves. His appearance and bearings made him stand out amongst his family, for despite his obvious youth - he could not be older than twenty-five in this picture - he seemed quieter and calmer and lacked the often displayed haughtiness. He was obviously self-confident, but enough so that he didn't have to assure his environment of that fact constantly.

One corner of his mouth twitched and he glanced down to another painting that seemed to be empty, only showing a magnificent rose garden. Then, silently, as if only to himself, he murmured "Not all of them are eager to mate."

Draco and Blaise looked up sharply at that, encountering the deep blue eyes, darker than Draco's own, that, despite the soft smile on the man's lips, couldn't be any graver. But before they had a chance to probe deeper, Amalyne interrupted them.
"How did you react?" she asked, leaning forward. "You know that sometimes it is leniency that wins favour."
'They speak as if Harry was a child to be groomed into a demure, well-behaved and biddable house-wife!' Blaise thought, rather irritated, and very irritated that he was irritated in the first place. This was his mother, for god's sake!

Next to him, Draco squeezed his forearm soothingly and answered a little bit guiltily for both of them. "I'm afraid, we could have handled it better."
"We didn't realise how bad he was taking the news of his heritage." Blaise continued, his voice still a little bit tight, as he sat down next to his fiancé. "I tried to push him into accepting it and his magic reacted. It retracted all the changes of his transformation and afterwards he was exhausted and seemed even more reluctant." There was really no need to tell them that Harry's accidental magic had attacked him.

"That reminds me, could you try to get some of his things from those Weasleys? He needs his glasses and though I don't want to return his wand to him just yet it wouldn't hurt to at least know it is accessible for us."
"Of course." Narcissa said. "I will contact them. They have been made aware of what Mr Potter is and with whom he is at the moment. They will not interfere or hinder you." Draco nodded his thanks. This was at least something to calm Harry with: his precious weasels knew about the situation and didn't have to fear for him needlessly.
"But why does he need his glasses?" Lucius asked with a frown, fixing the two younger men with an inquisitive stare.
Blaise sighed. "He would rather wear his glasses than endure his changed vision. We think he's trying to reject his inheritance." He paused, looking at the seemingly impassive expressions of the four persons on the other side of the mirror, knowing that they were irritated by the news.

"Is that even possible?" Draco asked and he glanced at the portraits behind his parents, seven of which were submissives themselves according to his father. But he couldn't for the life of him understand why someone would even want to reject such a gift, let alone try to actually do it. He was pretty sure they didn't know it either.
"It isn't possible." One of the older paintings said confidently, but it seemed the man was speaking more from guesswork than actual knowledge. "Powerful magic wants to be used. It would become wild and dangerous and make itself noticeable and unavoidable."

Others murmured affirmatively, or nodded.
"It is possible." The young man said again, as quiet as before.
"Oh be quiet, Adler! There is no proof…"
"My husband did suppress his inheritance, quite successfully." He pointed out, still not even a hint of annoyance in his quiet voice.
"Yes, very successfully." Another painting drawled. "After all you felt his outstanding magic."
The younger one, Adler, shook his head. "I didn't feel it. I suspected it." Then he raised his head, looking at the Malfoys, Zabinis and Severus in front of him.
"If he is akin to my Ives in any way at all, your so called submissive will rather die than leave himself in your hands just because you want him to. You were enemies, if I did not misunderstand the situation?"
"They were, during their days at Hogwarts and that unfortunate war." Lucius said, his lips drawn into a tight line. But really, he wasn't so sure if it was the war that had been unfortunate or its ending.

The one ending that had been achieved meant the attenuation of pureblood values, the other would have meant the death of the one and only submissive they knew of.
"Then indeed, he will find a way. Do not underestimate him, for despite his youth he lead a war and killed a lord level wizard. Be kind…"
"I know exactly what he is capable of, Adler! And how to treat him. Thank you very much." Draco's eyes flashed; he was a little bit vexed that someone who had been dead for well over three centuries was trying to give him love advice.
"Do you? My great-great and many more great grandson? Is that why your little nightingale tried to flee your esteemed company? Please do me the favour of sharing in your rich knowledge sometime." Adler said pleasantly, no hint of mockery tainting his silky voice. Only his eyes were laughing.
Draco narrowed his own eyes, but he didn't answer. He had heard worse insults during the war and had needed to learn how to deal with them without reverting to violence and insult. Blaise was more reluctant to let it go, it seemed.

"There is no need for rudeness." he growled next to Draco, his voice dangerous, ominous.
"I agree." Narcissa said with a pleasant smile, throwing a warning glance at her son and his fiancé. Adler Malfoy had been a rather powerful man in his day; while he had been the Malfoy patriarch, the family had gained much influence and amassed great riches; in fact Adler had made a major contribution to the prestigious standing his family still held, exploiting the power he had gained through his mating with a submissive to its full potential.

One didn't gain his assistance with snide remarks.
"But Adler, if you please, how can we persuade young Mr Potter to accept his heritage?"
"That I cannot say, as I do not know him." Adler conceded with a barely perceptible nod. "Most probably if he didn't know of his Vykélari heritage beforehand, he is afraid. Maybe it is the idea of not being human or the idea of submitting to another man. Maybe he doesn't like to lose control over his life or there is a relationship that his inheritance would now destroy. If he just didn't like the two of you, he would embrace his gifts and use them to flee. Breaking through wards is no difficulty for a well-rested submissive. After all it is solely a matter of magical strength to do that."
Draco and Blaise shared an alarmed glance. What if Harry, the moment his magic had replenished itself, apparated away right through the wards? They would never know where he had gone to and might not find him in time to prevent another Vykélari to catch him, or someone who didn't want that much power in the hands of a single person to murder him.

"How can we keep him from breaking through the apparation wards?" Blaise asked.
"Most often when a submissive is unwilling, one would simply put a block on his magic." One of the elder portraits said, Marcus, the one who had insulted Severus earlier. "But most often, it isn't necessary."
"And all Vykélari love their freedom. Blocking his magic will only make him hate you." One of the submissives said.
"In any case," Marcus continued "our family magic is strong, like the Zabini's, our markings bear witness to it. No submissive would hesitate to join with such powerful families."

Narcissa coughed delicately and Amalyne pursed her lips, while Lucius and Severus both turned towards the collage of paintings in their back, openly disdained expressions on their face. "Didn't you listen as I described the boy?" Lucius drawled scornfully.
"Mr Potter is not impressed by power - " Severus said in a perfect replica of his friend's tone of voice "political or magical, he doesn't care because he is powerful enough himself in both regards, being the Boy Who Lived -" That much, Severus had to concede, he was after all not naïve.

"And he blatantly disregards any authoritative figure he comes across. And there are things that all of you dismissed too easily: Mr Potter will be inclined to flee Zabini Manor, merely because he is held captive there in the first place. He has some issues with such things. And he will try to flee you, because he will think that you bullied him into staying. Again: he has some issues with bullies. All a leftover from his childhood, I'd guess."
"How would you know about his childhood? I thought you hated him…" Draco asked.

From Severus' look Draco could tell that he thought the question to be foolish, and that he had expected better of his favourite student, but Draco didn't back down.
"Severus, don't be difficult!" Lucius sighed, vexed. "I swear you spend too much time with Cygnus…"
"It would do all of you much good to spent more time with him, but be that as it may, I was a spy for his side! Do you think I was too unobservant to not find out some things about that boy? Furthermore I gave him Occlumency lessons on Dumbledore's order. You have no idea what I have seen in that head of his…"
"Occlumency lessons…" Lucius was baffled.

Severus nodded. "During his fifth year, to keep such things as the Ministry incident from happening. Unfortunately he was a lousy student. He thought to be so clever, thought he could use the connection to his advantage without the Dark Lord noticing it. His naivety and impulsiveness cost him his godfather. Good riddance, I'd say. In any case it was a wakeup call for Potter, which was much needed."
"What about his childhood?" Narcissa asked. "Why do you say he has issues with deprivation of liberty and … bullies?"
"The family Dumbledore put him with hated Potter, or more specifically, they hated magic." Severus eyes seemed to glaze over as he remembered something. "Until his Hogwarts letter he lived in a cupboard under their stairs. His cousin bullied him whenever he could and was spurred on by the boy's aunt and uncle. They didn't beat him, I think, his aunt and uncle I mean, at least I didn't see any proof of it, but his cousin did. With his clique of underlings he hunted Potter through their neighbourhood. Beat him black and blue."

Severus harrumphed and leaned back in his chair with a frown. It were always those images that made him feel so conflicted. He knew he should take pleasure in them, ridicule Potter because of them, but always they appalled him instead. And nonetheless he had let Potter feel his scorn whenever he came across such memories during their lessons. He had hated himself for that, had hated Potter more for making him hate himself.
"I don't think he ever had any friends before Weasley." He continued almost mechanically.

"In the summer after his first year at Hogwarts they imprisoned him in a spare bedroom, putting bars in front of the windows. Practically starved him, too." Severus' felt his throat tighten. He knew there was a reason why he had never allowed himself to think about what he had seen in Potter's memory. It had been easier to dismiss each of the countless flashbacks individually, but summarized, they seemed oppressive.

"Another aunt of his, on his paternal side, she had a dog and the whole family watched it chase Potter through their backyard until he managed to climb a tree. It was the aunt he accidentally blew up in the summer after his second year, I don't know if you heard of the incident. After what I saw in his memories, I don't even want to know what she did to finally make him retaliate."
"Merlin, Severus." Narcissa gasped, a delicate hand covering her lips. "How could Dumbledore leave him with such a family!"
The potions master shook his head dazedly. "Some blood wards that were keeping him safe from the Dark Lord. I know that Minerva didn't want to do it, but Dumbledore was adamant. Maybe he would have been dead before the Dark Lord had been resurrected, maybe not; who knows?"
Draco pressed clenched down on Blaise's hand in his grip. He wanted to ask how his godfather could have still been so horrible to Harry when he had known of all those things, he wanted to search the younger Vykélari and hide him away from such horrors. He wanted to hurt those people…

And he had no right to do any of those, after all he had done to Harry during their days at Hogwarts.
Slowly, Blaise wound his hand out of Draco's tight grasp and laid it around his shoulders instead, pulling him close. How he wished he had known earlier of Harry's history. It was not that he regretted his actions per se, but he would have been more understanding, would have been gentler when placing those restrictions upon the young submissive.
Silence stretched over the two rooms as everyone tried to digest what they had heard.

"I will have them killed." Amalyne said finally, almost reassuringly as if she was talking about getting compensation for a broken, expensive vase. Lucius nodded once, his eyes hard and cold, already thinking of several dark books full of curses that were almost impossible to detect…
"Don't!" Severus spoke up. "Whatever you do, don't touch the Dursleys. Potter wouldn't want anything to happen to them. They were even specifically protected from the Dark Lord during the war. He would turn on you."
"So what do we do now?" Blaise asked. "Draco and I decided that we would mate him, but not against his will." He deliberately ignored the delighted and somewhat complacent expressions of his mother, Narcissa and Lucius. Really, could they look any more smug?

"Well, I am elated to hear that, dear." Amalyne cooed. "But it might take some … coaxing, you realise that?"
"Not against his will, mother." Blaise said, very seriously. "Never against his will. If we give him time and some reasons to, he will come to us willingly."
Narcissa smiled at them gently. "I think you are doing the right thing. In the long run it will be better for all of you if he entered a mateship of his own accord."
"I hope the two of you know what you are facing." Severus muttered while Lucius frowned next to him.
"Don't let him control you."
"We won't father." Draco didn't tell his father that he had no wish to control the Gryffindor either. He didn't think the Malfoy patriarch would condone that "But if we can't keep him in the manor without shackling him - which he would hate us for - then what do we do?"
"For now, I don't think that it will be a problem." Draco said thoughtfully. "He seemed to be agreeable to stay at least until he has learned how to control his magic. For once his saviour complex works in our favour: he doesn't want to endanger anyone. Until he has learned how to harness it, he will stay, so we might have two or three weeks."

And by then they needed to have won Harry over. Merlin, it was too short a time…
"I would speak with him."
Everyone turned towards the portraits again. In the previously empty rose garden now stood a young man, probably not much older than Blaise and Draco. One could probably say that his hair was red, though not the fiery Weasley-red but a multihued cascade of soft waves: copper and auburn, streaked with strands of dark gold and the colour of wheat in the sun. He wore a loose fitting, blue-green shirt that matched his eyes perfectly and leather pants, probably as a protection against the thorns of the roses.
"A kind offer, Ives, but you don't have to." Adler said, an unusual softness in his voice.
"And besides," Lucius said "you were rather reluctant to mate my ancestor yourself. It is too much of a risk to bring the two of you together. Mr Potter needs stability more than anything else right now. And he certainly doesn't need to be inspired by your rebelliousness"
"He needs someone to talk to, someone he can trust to answer his questions without some egoistical motive." Ives answered defiantly, a faint trace of red staining his cheeks.
"I would you refrained from insulting my husband, Lucius." And for the first time, there was something more than indifference in his voice, something undeniably dark and sinister. "I promise you, Ives will not influence Mr Potter or foment trouble, but he might help ground him a little bit. Why don't you bring both of our portraits to Italy and we will keep an eye on the young submissive."
"I don't think he will like Adler very much." Severus drawled.
"Fortunately I was never dependant on the benevolence of others." Adler answered. "But where my husband goes, I will follow."
"Then by all means, send them to the manor." Blaise said a little bit impatiently. "Now Draco and I should take our leave; we don't want to keep Harry waiting after all."
"We will keep the connection open, should we have questions." Draco said, but privately he didn't think that they would take the portraits or their parents up on the offer. Harry was too unusual for them to be of much use and they didn't know anything about him.

No, Harry was Blaise's and his challenge to rise to.
"I will send you that spying potion also, in case he gets lost." Severus said. With Potter's heightened magical strength he might detect normal tracking charms, but the spying potion was pretty much undetectable.
"Thank you, Severus." Draco gave him a curt nod. Then the both of them took their leave.

CHAPTER END NOTES:

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