Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing at all.

Prologue

Far worse than just an enter-national magical incident, this had created an enter-species magical incident, one that could easily bring about a world-wide and species-wide war. Britain and not just wizarding Britain either, could not handle another war so soon after the last. Frankly, the idea was a disaster, of apocalyptic proportions, especially as the last, and only, Veela-Wizard war … wizards lost. And that war hadn't been right on the heels of another war, with all their forces weakened, like this one would be.

So, when the Veela council demanded to see the entire Wizengamot, well, the Ministry of Magic jumped all over that idea, and opened up their metaphorical vaulted doors wide. When they declared that the meeting be opened to leader from other magical races, so that other magical beings with treaties with wizards might also be re-negotiated, they were less than thrilled. But, it was reluctantly allowed on the condition the Veela, and not Wizards, bring them, and since it was Britain, not the world, any treaties would only effect as such. The ministry did NOT want to further damage foreign relations with other wizard nations, not now, not when they'd just begun their recovery.

They'd also insisted upon having Aurors as security for all the various diplomats. Which was exactly what lead to this... Ron, foaming at the mouth, again, while his wife calmly tried to explain to him and their mutual best friend what to expect and a bit of history of why a man in the hospital was such an important 'incident.' And, why – apparently – the Veela council was ready to declare war over this one man.

"Harry, did… she just say what I thought she said?" He really should be used to Hermione discovering strange and unbelievable facts by now. But, that gaping expression never did get old!

"Yes, I did. The Weasley/Malfoy feud was caused by the Weasley family – and led to the Veela/Wizard war, which led to the Veela treaties and laws. Now, may I explain why?" She asked, exasperated. Hermione, not surprisingly, had become a teacher. It was what she always did best, but she also researched, constantly. So, she had been given a position at the Ministry as a researcher, when school wasn't in session. Right now, she was aiding them in their preparations for the upcoming diplomatic negotiations.

Harry and Ron, well, they were both getting a technically illegal briefing about an assignment they hadn't yet received. Secrets… politics were all about secrets, even now, especially in the magical world. Harry was heartfelt sick of secrets.

"Apparently, Malfoys have Veela ancestry. One of your ancestors accidentally killed the spouse of the second son of the Head of the Malfoy line, and since they were of a Veela mating-pair, the son also died. He was pregnant, with twins. The Malfoys considered it murder, and demanded a formal apology and reparations for the loss of four members of their family. Well, Ron, you know what your family's temper is like – you're a prime example!"

Ron hemmed and hawed, and looked embarrassed. He did have more than his fair share of temper, and judgmental fits; he'd just been having the beginnings of one a second ago!

"The Weasleys refused, so the Malfoys cursed them with ever increasing poverty upon each successive generation until either the line extinguished, went bankrupt, or finally apologized. Apparently, they thought it was fitting as Weasleys seemed to care more about their money and pride than family and people's lives."

Ron snorted; like Malfoys cared about family more than – wait! "They caused the curse on my family? They're the reason we're poor?"

"Ron, that curse has obviously been broken; look how successful the joke shop is, how well you're doing in your job, and Percy's political career, not to mention Bill's job at Gringott's! Besides, even if it was still active, to cancel it would only take an apology from a single member of the family. That's hardly difficult, right?" She rolled her eyes; of course Malfoys were still always wrong and the source of all that was bad to Ron. While he'd grown in many ways, in so many more he was still, and would always be, the silly immature brat she'd fallen in love with years ago.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Well, he still didn't like Draco, and still felt he'd been a right prat the majority of their youth, this did make the whole 'some are better than others' crap he'd spewed at first meeting seem a bit more understandable. Stupid, but understandable.

Wait – Malfoy, who was terrified of most magical creatures, and was raised with only the most racist prejudices imaginable about mixing muggle or magical creature blood or anything really, with wizard to dilute the so-called purity, was himself not a pure-blood, but a mixed, of Veela heritage? What he wouldn't have given to have known this back when they were still students at Hogwarts so he could have lorded that fact over the insufferable git! Who knows what might have changed; Valdy might've had one less death-eater family to play with and the losses might not have been so bad. And if wishes were horses, beggars would ride; he reminded himself bitterly. What ifs and what could have beens could run forever; but the past was past and could not change. Now was for the future.

Ron put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. Neither he nor Hermione knew exactly what he was thinking, without reading someone's mind who could know another's thoughts? But, they knew that expression well enough, and offered their love and comfort freely and completely. Then, he blinked.

"Wait, 'Mione, I think Dad may have broken it – remember when Lucius sic'd the Ministry on us for Muggle artifacts? They argued a bit, and Dad said he didn't even remember the start of the feud but to forgive and forget, and he was sorry for our part in it. That must have done it!" He grinned, widely.

"I think that would, Ron." She said slowly, thoughtfully.

"So, what does their feud have to do with some guy in 's causing an inter-species and inter-national incident?" Harry was nothing if not practical.

"Well, from what I could find, and there wasn't much, really – it's quite old, records were terrible shape, some nothing more than ashes, really,"

"Hermione!" Both men simultaneously shouted. She flushed, and looked down at the floor, ashamed. She really had tried to work on her habit of running off on tangents, really.

"It has to do with their origins as a species, and how they separated from the other descendants of the Gorgon sisters."

Harry blinked. "Gorgon descendants?"

"Well, muggles got it a bit wrong, but the three Gorgon sisters were each cursed, and their curses passed to their children – either their natural children or adopted. Three new species were created as result – the Harpies, the Lamia, and the Sirens. All three species have two things in common: their dark and deadly heritage, and no men." Ron, surprisingly, was the one who answered that. He looked really pleased, too. Then, confused. "But, what's that got to do with Veela?"

"It turns out that the goddess who was angered into cursing them gave each descendants'' species a chance to redeem themselves, and that's where Veela and Merfolk came from. I didn't find a split from Lamia with males, yet." She frowned, that was something she'd need to look farther into. Later. Right now, the Veela problem was the priority.

Harry looked confused. "So, Veela came from Harpies, which made them stop being Dark creatures? But, shouldn't they then have men; that's what you meant, right?"

Ron also now looked confused. "Right, Veela are only women."

"No. Ron, Harry – they have had men!" Hermione looked excited, as she leaned in. This was the secret that caused the war, and the Veela treaties and laws; the source of so much secrecy from the species about themselves. "That's what the war was about!"

Harry keyed in. It was now time to listen closely.

"They did something; I'm not sure what," her face scrunched up a bit in frustration, "but it bought their 'pardon,' and men were created. The ones whom didn't want to have to do with the new members of their race stayed separate, and stayed Harpies. The ones who embraced the changes became Veela. But, the males were rare, and for whatever reason, began to disappear, leaving Veela a race of women dependent on wizards to survive. The war started because the pregnant male who died was the first male Veela in several centuries. His children may have been able to set the Veela free of their dependence on wizards, make them a truly independent species! The Veela believed they were being forced into a parasitic existence, and blamed wizards for taking their chance at freedom."

"The man in the St. Mungo's, it's Draco, and he's a Veela, isn't he?" Harry put it all together, and really, he was a bit depressed. Why, just once, why couldn't his life be any simpler?

"What? Harry, you've got to be – Malfoy, a Veela? Even if some of his ancestors were, really? Malfoy?" Ron, yet again, proving his heritage, was in a full-on rant mode.

She smiled sadly at Harry, watching him down a glass of firewhiskey. Then, turning to look straight at her husband, "Yes, Ron. He's right. And, the Veela council is furious."

"Why? It's MALFOY." As if that explained away his disbelief and unconcern about a fellow, well, not quite human, being.

"Because he was born Veela but somehow it was suppressed, and now that whatever was done to him to block it has been undone, he's being forced to change into what he should have always been, and it's killing him."

"Let him!"

"Ron!"

"No, Harry, just let him go. I'll tell him the rest at home later, when he's calmed." She smiled that sad smile Harry'd seen all too often lately on his oldest female friend's face, and she leaned back into her chair, taking a drink of her butterbeer.

Harry broke the companionable silence after a moment. "Will he really die?"

"I don't know, Harry. No one does; no one really knows what exactly was done to him or how to help him." She gestured to the slim file she'd brought with her. "That's got some of the notes from the healers, but, really, at this point it's all guesswork. They've put him under a status spell until more can be figured out, and a team of unmentionables has been assigned to try to find out. They're interrogating Snape's portrait and digging through Lucius's papers, and I think a petition for Narcissa's memories has been filed. But, Harry, the Veela are already calling for her to be killed. Lucius is already dead, so nothing can be done to him, but under the current law, they most certainly DID interfere with a Veela, intentionally, and they can have her killed."

That hurt him; she'd known it would, that's why she'd made sure it was her he heard it from and not some stranger. Narcissa may have been a death eater, and may have been an evil witch responsible for more pain, suffering, and death than any cared to think about, but she'd risked her life for Harry at the end. Saved Harry. And she had done it just for the words he'd spoken about her child. Now, whatever they had done, and Harry was sure it had been done to save Draco, was killing him. And, she was going to be killed for it.

"No." He didn't even hear the soft whispered word slip passed his lips.

Hermione closed her eyes. It was hard, so hard; Harry deserved to have a life, burden free. Yet, just like everyone else in his life, she was taking that from him. Placing the burdens on him. Sometimes, she hated her life.

"Harry, they think he's some kind of savior for their race, or he could be. They're furious, they're saying we, wizards and witches, purposely kept him from them. Kept their chance at being whole, independent, and not a symbiotic species, from them on purpose. They want to declare war. And, this time, if they do, they'll be bringing every other magical being race against us, Harry – and they'd be right to." She took a calming breath, as Harry just looked at her. "We don't treat them as equals, you know that. House elves are slaves by treaty. Goblins, while allies, have very few rights, and outside of Gringott's, how many do you see? Centaurs are forced to keep to certain areas, and are mistreated and mistrusted because they don't want to share their private secrets with us… the list goes on and on, Harry, and you know it."

He did. He even agreed with her; to a point. But, h most certainly did not want to ever, ever, see war again. Not ever. What did that have to do with him, though?

"You're an Auror, and as the Head of the lines Potter and Black, have a seat on the Wizengamot. You'll definitely be there. I left you a copy of the Veelas' letter of demands, too. Please, Harry, be a voice of reason. You can help everyone, I know you can, and I'll keep looking. We'll save him, just keep them from doing anything drastic!"

Be a voice of reason? Riiiiight. Like people in authority ever really listened to Harry; even now he was just a lowly grunt. Too famous for his own good, he mostly did desk work, going polyjuiced or charmed for the very, very, very rare outside assignment. Being an Auror when you were the savior of the wizarding world was not what it was cracked up to be.

Frankly, he had been rather sick of it. Before today, he'd begun thinking of quitting and looking into other possible careers. Anything, really. He'd heard, oh, about a year ago, that Malfoy'd started a magical furniture business. His efforts with the cabinets had sparked something, he guessed. When he heard, he'd had to go in and look.

The shop was very open, classy, and free of dust. The furniture, ranging from bedding to office to kitchen and living, from wooden to metal and glass, and everything in between, was varied and well placed. He'd even spied one carved jade coffee table. Very style imaginable, and almost very price range, seemed represented. Yet, somehow, the overall feel of the place had fairly screamed high class; odd, with the rather 'homey' pieces also showing.

He'd left as soon as the first spark of jealousy hit. He was the savior; Malfoy was the prat on the losing side. Yet, he was married, and had a great job. Harry… Harry was dumped at the altar by a bitter and alcoholic Ginny, and had a job that continually failed to meet the even eternally lowering expectations he had. Why did that rich, spoiled git always, always have so much better and why did Harry always have so much worse?

He suddenly realized he didn't want to help Malfoy. He didn't care if he died in the hospital. He didn't really want another war, but if there was one, this one really wasn't his responsibility. He was tired. He looked up to say something to Hermione, but she was gone. Flew'd back home to Ron and their kids, he guessed. He finished his drink, stood, and went to bed. He left the file sitting on the empty table.

Cursing, he got up, and went back to the file. He'd tried to sleep, he really had, but after a few hours of failing, he'd just given up. Reading it gave him lots of new things to think about, and new questions to ask. H rubbed his face, as he began to pen a letter to Hermione.

'Mione,

You're one of the Unmentionables researching this case, aren't you? You don't have to answer, I know you can't, but I've suspected it for a while now anyway. This just sort of confirms it for me.

Now, you said the historic Malfoy Veela that died was a male – and pregnant. The notes on Malfoy you gave me have some weird info on genetics, including quotes on muggle genetic research. In them, he's listed as "XXY" – and there are some very confusing guesses as to the importance to that. Please explain firstly, how a male could be pregnant. I was thinking some sort of spell or potion, but these weird references make me think I was wrong. I want to know what you think, 'Mione. Secondly, there's a brief jot in the margins about this being blocked. Why would that matter? Was this how a male could be pregnant?

I also saw his medical records. 'Mione, why would a bond break over this? And, how will his marriage bond breaking affect his health? (SPLATTER)

'Mione, did you see him? Was the damage really as bad as the report made it seem? Very bone in his body shattered, even his eardrums? That's over 200 bones, most of which are tiny! And they're not just broken, but shattered? Tendons ripped, muscles torn, and most of his internal organs ruptured, and many of them moving… how was he still alive to be put into stasis? His condition sounds worse than all the tortures I've survived combined! If even half of this is real, 'Mione, letting him die would be a mercy.

How can anyone save him?

Do you even really want to?

Do you expect me to? How? How, 'Mione?

I owe Narcissa a life-debt because of him, 'Mione. But, if she did this to him, I don't know that I can argue for her to try to save her. How could anyone do this to their own child? This is far worse than anything the Dudleys ever… (BLOT)

(INK DRIBBLE)

The Veela's letter, or declaration of intent, is pretty straightforward. Too straightforward, really, for something in politics. All they're asking for is Narcissa, and Malfoy; if h lives. It seems like they want to try to take him from St. Mungo's and revive him themselves. Do you think they will have a better chance? If he dies, though … they're very blunt about holding the wizarding world responsible. Is he really that special? If he was born male, can't others be?

Looking forward to answers,

Harry

He rubbed his face, and sighed. It was way, way too late to send it now. That's why he'd written rather than just flew'd in the first place. He'd call an owl for it after the sun rose. For now, he was going to give sleeping another shot.