Notes: This story is AU, and commences a few weeks into sixth year at Hogwarts. This is a 'Creature Fic.' It contains references to male/male sex, a frank rape scene, and other instances of dubious consent. M rated for mature readers.

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter & his world belongs to J. K. Rowling and the concept of the Hecatema belongs to author, pen-name, Beren. Other concepts mentioned are influenced by what has become fanfiction convention, such as that the Potters were an old pure-blood family.**

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Part 1/Chapter 1:

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"Checks again for us, straight after breakfast," mentioned Hermione.

Ron said irritably, "I wish they'd tell us what they're looking for."

Hermione tried to be patient, "They did tell us. Just that at our age, various abilities or differences can become manifest. So fortnightly checks of all sixth years plus the younger seventh years."

Harry looked up from his newspaper, grinning, "Well, I could certainly use some extra abilities, seeing what Dumbledore seems to expect."

Ron said curiously, "Sometimes you don't seem very enthusiastic."

"Funny that, seeing I'll quite likely not survive. If Voldemort didn't try and kill me now and then, I would not make any attempt to interfere with the monster. Why should I?"

Hermione reminded, "The prophecy, Harry. You have to either kill him or he kills you."

Harry yawned, "Prophecy baloney! If I choose to take no notice of the prophecy, there's nothing Dumbledore can do about it."

Ron looked admiringly toward the head table, and said earnestly, "Professor Dumbledore knows, Harry. He's the greatest headmaster the school has ever had."

Harry cast a glance toward the head table, seeing Dumbledore's eyes rest briefly on him, as they so often did. Harry did not think Professor Dumbledore was a great man. He might try and convey that he was invincible and all-knowing, but if he was, how was it that a kid was somehow expected to bring down a criminal, rather than those adult wizards qualified for the job? Or Dumbledore himself, come to that? If Harry had the ability to kill the man, surely Dumbledore did!

And besides, Harry bore a grudge against Dumbledore. It was he who'd decreed that a helpless baby be left with relatives who hated him. It was he who'd tried to make him go back to them every Summer holidays. Not that he had for the past three Summers. Instead he'd disappeared into muggle society, finding he fared much better alone than he ever had with his relatives. He didn't know whether Dumbledore knew or not.

The health checks were quick. Height, weight, use of a monitor to indicate general well-being, and use of another monitor, to indicate signs of a number of other conditions becoming manifest, - Veela, Vanteera, Lysstic susceptibility, Hecatema, and several others. Some of those conditions would require special arrangements to be made, but all were rare, except for Veela, and that was rare at Hogwarts.

Madam Pomfrey did as ordered by Dumbledore, used the monitor, touching it briefly to the forehead of each boy and girl, but allowing the results to be recorded automatically. She herself, would not know the results unless the headmaster chose to tell her. Dumbledore didn't want any reactions from the nurse to alert the student.

Later that day, Dumbledore smiled his appreciation of his own cleverness. He'd known there had to be something like this. If Harry Potter was to have a power the Dark Lord knows not, there had to be something like this. So here it was. Harry Potter was Hecatemae. A male? A Hecatemus, rather than a Hecatema? Surely that was unique, and would make the maturation process probably more difficult for him. He'd need to take control of that. Let nature take its course, and goodness knows who'd end up with an influence over the immense power of a Hecatema. Two months to plan before the boy started Calling. Quite a primitive process really, very animal!

Dumbledore smiled. It was a shame he wasn't younger himself. It was an immense privilege to be Soul Mate to a Hecatema. Those few pairs he'd known had been very happy, - at least after that first adjustment period, and little was known of that, though much speculated. The pair was always left strictly alone.

Draco Malfoy sat at dinner the next day, looking at the small note. What on earth did Dumbledore want with him? Except for seeing him at the head table at evening meals, the headmaster was rather a remote figure.

Dumbledore smiled at the Slytherin boy, and asked, gently, "You still want to kill Voldemort?"

"Of course, Sir."

"You have the most ability of all of those in the senior years, and you are the most clever boy."

Draco was surprised, but didn't show it.

Dumbledore read his mind anyway. "There is Potter, of course. He has the most raw power, and has a few brains besides, but for this job, I have chosen you. For now, I want you to read this book, very thoroughly."

Draco picked up the book, "Hecatemae, Sir?"

"Hecatemae. One who is Soul Mate to a Hecatema has access to a power the rest of us can scarcely dream of."

"But they don't have the power themselves, do they, Sir? They only support the woman who does."

"Read the book, Draco, very thoroughly, and return this time next week."

Dumbledore smiled benignly, suddenly saying as Draco rose to leave, "There is another thing. You are to cease annoying anyone, male or female, with childish teasing. A man who is to be powerful does not play childish games."

"Yes, Sir."

A man who is to be powerful. Draco liked the sound of that very much. His father was dead, assumed to have been by the hand of Voldemort, and without his influence, he'd sometimes doubted that he would get to be important in his world. But Dumbledore had definitely implied he'd be powerful.

Draco read the book, very carefully. That a Hecatema was connected to magic in a much more elemental fashion than any normal witch, that she could see magic, and could thus control it in a way that others could not. That she had immense power, but there needed to be a partner, to help her control and guide that power. That without that partner, the 'Soul Mate,' she could go mad, or die.

That the process of choosing the Soul Mate was out of her direct control. That when a Hecatema started Calling, the best wizards available would come running, unable to help themselves, desperate to get to the woman, and imprint himself on her as the one Soul Mate. There would be chaos as the most able wizards fought to get to the woman, fighting the barriers, fighting each other. But maybe only five or six in a hundred men felt the Call in all its power. They were the First Order Chosen.

That lesser men felt it as undirected lust, but sometimes managed to achieve the Bond simply because they were close when she started Calling. They were the Second Order Chosen. And others didn't feel it at all.

Draco came to the passage on the consequences of death of either the Hecatema, or the Soul Mate, and was relieved to read that the Bond simply ended with the death of the Hecatema. He'd had a vague memory of a discussion at home, when it had been said that if one partner died, then the other did as well. Probably he'd been thinking of a Bijn Yusdu pair.

Hermione put her feet up on a chair in front of her, and became deeply engrossed in a book about Bijn Yusdu pairing. It was fascinating, these variations of humans. Muggles would never understand that there were not only wizards in their midst, but that there were various sub-species of wizards, some of them awe-inspiring in their power. It was a shame she hadn't been able to access any books on Hecatemae, but they'd all been out. She supposed others were as interested as herself, seeing they were all being checked every fortnight for such conditions.

Ron and Harry came in then, looking wind-swept and happy and carrying their brooms. Harry noticed Seamus, and started to tease him about his relationship with a fourth year girl, but Seamus returned, "That's over. She's too young. I want someone who likes sex."

Harry thought he had to try sex some time. Most of his age were sexually active, though it was a bit difficult finding convenient places to do more than kiss. His eyes scanned over the older girls, wondering why he felt no particular desire for any of them. He didn't even have erotic dreams, though he was well aware the others did. He was physically normal, he knew that. He usually woke up hard, and he'd masturbated a couple of times, just to see that he could. It had felt quite good, but he mostly just didn't think about sex. Probably a good thing. Ron had confided that he was a constant agonising mess of hormones, and found it difficult to concentrate on his studies. From observation, Harry knew that Ron was not the only one. Yet his own body was quiet.

Draco read, 'Forming the Bond. The Bond is formed with the first act of sex. Unless previously subject to rape, a Calling Hecatema is always a virgin. She does not understand what is happening, does not know she is Calling her Soul Mate, and she will fight the process. The wizard who first takes her, becomes the Soul Mate. To be the Soul Mate of a Hecatema requires a certain ruthlessness at the start, to ensure the Bond is made.'

Draco read that part over and over. That part was factual, but Dumbledore had modified the original text somewhat. It was designed to appeal to the ruthless streak in the young man, and totally left out mention of support and protection that the terrified girl was entitled to by law.

There were other variations in the book, all emphasizing the control the Soul Mate had over his Hecatema, and downplaying the reverse. Some facts were simply omitted, such as that the death of the Hecatema invariably meant the death of the Soul Mate. For the greater good. Albus Dumbledore was a believer in that saying, - for the greater good. Besides, he loved to manipulate people, and all with a benign look and a twinkle in his eye that made people think he cared about them.

Some gossip spread, that several of the second years had been exposed to the Recognizance Virus, and were in isolation wards, two to a ward. Release after two weeks, as long as there were no symptoms. More isolation wards were being prepared, just in case it turned into an epidemic.

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Draco returned to Professor Dumbledore's office, feeling very excited. It was fairly obvious that one of the senior girls was a Hecatema, and didn't yet know it. And Dumbledore was giving him the chance to be her mate. Not that it would stop him having other relationships, - that was in the book. Just that he made the Bond with the Hecatema, and she would then be subject to him, her power, if not exactly at his command, at least close to that. He would be her legal guardian, all her life!

Dumbledore twinkled at the boy, and said, "A Hecatema/Soul Mate Bond gives happiness to both participants, as well as power. Are you interested?"

"Yes, Sir. I am interested."

Dumbledore smiled, "It helps, of course, that a Hecatema is never plain, never ugly, usually the reverse. Not like a Veela, but without the unfortunate temper of a Veela."

"What should I do?"

"Nothing yet. Think about things. Be nice to people."

Draco said impatiently, "But who is she?"

"It is a sixth year, some months younger than you are."

Draco's mind immediately started running through the more attractive girls in sixth year. He'd have to check birth dates.

Dumbledore turned business-like. "The Bonding. Usually a violent process, but it doesn't have to be. If the two of you are already friendly, then there is trust, and that could make all the difference. Adjustment will come quicker if the Bonding is not forceful."

"Yes, Sir."

Dumbledore looked at the ceiling, and said softly, "If I help you to this, you will, of course, be prepared to do what I ask. It will take a few months for the Hecatema to master her new power, but then it will be time for the pair of you to face the Dark Lord."

Draco was puzzled, "Isn't it Harry Potter that's supposed to be the one who faces the Dark Lord?"

Dumbledore shrugged indifferently, "A jumbled and possibly incomplete prophecy. Do not believe that only Potter can defeat Lord Voldemort."

Draco said hesitantly, "Yes, Sir. Sir, will she really have the power?"

"A Hecatema is mistress of magic. She does not need a wand, does not need incantations. She wants, and it happens. All you have to do is help her master her power, stay close for those first vital months, and then direct her. She will be yours, her power will be yours."

"Yes, Sir."

Draco thrilled to the knowledge. One of those immensely powerful beings, and she would be his. There must be no mistake, or failure. The Bond must be made.

Dumbledore said casually, "I'm not sure whether it is in the book, but spells cannot affect a Calling Hecatema. The Bond cannot be made by stunning her or putting her under Paralysis or the Snail Spell, or any other of the spells commonly used to rape. On the other hand, until the Bond is made, and for some weeks after, she will be unable to access her own magic. By the time that she can, she will need her Soul Mate, and she'll know she needs him. The loss of magic is a natural adaptation, I suspect, to ensure she doesn't escape before the Bond comes into full effect. She will also be unnaturally docile, compliant, and this lasts for at least the first week. Even afterwards, she will never fight the man. He is her Soul Mate, and they are compatible. And as I said, only the best wizard available is supposed to be mate to a Hecatema. Powerful, highly intelligent, and physically fit. I suggest you go into training, Draco."

"Training?"

"Fitness training. Also training in fighting, not to hurt, but to overpower. Even if the girl knows and likes you, she may fight the Bonding. It is what her instincts tell her to do."

Draco was silent. How did one learn to fight?

Dumbledore said quietly, "I have made arrangements. Every evening, join me here at eight, and I will take you to your fighting instructor. He is a muggle, and does not know about magic."

Draco said, slowly, "I'm to use force then, if necessary."

"Of course. I thought that was clear. Try persuasion, and I will ensure that you are close, and the moment you feel the Call, you make the Bond, and then she belongs to you, in all respects."

"Please Sir, can you tell me who?"

"It's a Gryffindor. I'll tell you more at the right time."

Draco nodded, assimilating the information. A sixth year Gryffindor. That narrowed it down quite considerably.

Dumbledore stood, "Tomorrow. Wear muggle clothing, and be prepared for bruises."

Harry smiled around at his friends as they relaxed in the common room. He could see the colours of them, the shimmering of their emotions, and the hint of cold greenish-gold, sparkling, that indicated raw power. It had taken a while to interpret the colours, and there were still colours and patterns of colours he didn't understand. He'd never found any books on it, but observation had given him clues.

He knew not to mention it to others. He'd done that in first year, assuming that every wizard could see the colours, but they'd looked at him as if he was some sort of freak. He'd never mentioned the ability since. And anyway, all he had to do was dismiss it, and the colours went out. He took off his glasses, expecting the pleasing blurred effect. It was a bit odd. It didn't seem as blurry as usual.

He shrugged, put on his glasses, and went back to his homework, deciding to leave out a sizable portion. He'd worked hard on the detailed analysis of the Keenecki Magic, but Hermione hated him getting better marks than she did. Being top of the class was not important. Having friends was very important.

The hospital check again, and Harry felt himself uneasy. He didn't like being looked at, even if it was non-intrusive.

Madam Pomfrey said casually, "You're growing quickly, Harry. Natural at this age, of course."

Harry smiled, "Yes, Madam Pomfrey." It was very good to be getting taller. He'd always been the smallest in his year.

A few days later, and Lavender said, "Padma has to serve two weeks in isolation. One of the seventh years as well. The first ones are back. They said it was all right, only very boring. Good food, and study notes. But you can't see anyone, not even Madam Pomfrey."

"How do you get your food then? And how does she know you're still alive?"

"Food is served, and there is a way of communicating."

Seamus said, "They confiscate your wand. Because if you do have this bug, your magic goes berserk, it seems."

Harry raised his eyebrows. He'd better not get it then. He'd been practising working magic without a wand for the past three years, though he'd kept that secret from even his best friends. The older he grew, the less he liked people to think him different. His deepest desire was to be ordinary. To marry some nice girl, have a family and be ordinary. Not the 'Boy Who Lived,' not the one who was supposed to defeat the Dark Lord, just ordinary.

Draco had more questions for Dumbledore after the weekend. He'd tried some practical work. He didn't like rape much, and he didn't like having too much to do with muggle girls. Afterwards, he'd planned on doing the anti-conception spell, so there wouldn't be more 'Muggle-born' about, but it hadn't been necessary, and he'd only made her forget the attack.

He was cautious with Dumbledore, not admitting that he'd attempted rape and failed, but saying that he didn't fancy force, and was unsure whether he'd be able to perform.

Dumbledore smiled at him in kindly understanding, "Ah, but when the Hecatema is Calling, every man within miles is in a state of excitement."

"Really?"

Dumbledore laughed. "I've seen it twice, felt it once. No sound, of course. Just a feeling in the air, but very, very strong. I was too late, alas, barely within range, but it was bedlam when I arrived, wizards fighting, including at least two school professors, and then suddenly it stopped. Wizards looked at each other, became very embarrassed, and crept away as quietly as they could."

Draco laughed. "The other time?"

"I was only fifteen, and didn't feel the full power of the Call. Yet there was enough."

He grinned reminiscently, "By the time the Hecatema was taken, there would have been scarcely a virgin in the whole area. The First Order Chosen are not satisfied with any substitute, but the Second Order Chosen, and that's most wizards, they're uncommonly active as well, to put it mildly."

"Muggle men. Do they feel it?"

"I really don't know. Not the true Call, of course, but whether their sexual activity increases, well, I really don't know."

Dumbledore watched the thoughtful boy, and finally asked, "So, Draco, do you think you can overpower a girl without too much hurting her?"

Draco blushed, "I think so, Sir. But I'd rather it was not necessary."

"I'm working on that. Not merely that I want you to take the power rather than someone else, but that it's very unsettling having every male wizard within miles in a state of sexual ferment. The quicker the Hecatemus can be Bonded, the better."

Draco almost missed it, but then suddenly, he said, "The Hecate - mus? Sir?"

Dumbledore said, "Unique, as far as I know. He's already growing uncommonly fast, and he may have noticed other changes. It will be in five weeks, as best as we can determine."

"Does he know?"

"No, and I'm not planning on telling him. This is a secret between yourself and myself."

"Who?"

"Harry Potter, Draco."

Draco was silent. Harry Potter? What did he feel about Harry Potter? He'd loved tormenting him when he was younger, but more recently, he'd only done it out of habit, and because it was expected. There was no real venom about it. He smiled. To master the Boy Who Lived. To claim the one who so often seemed to be the best at anything. He'd enjoy that.

He grinned to himself at the thought of the financial and legal implications. He would control the Potter wealth, and he would control Harry. Legally, Harry would never come of age, never be entitled to vote, never be entitled to assume political position.

Dumbledore was watching him, and Draco quickly wiped his face of all expression.

Dumbledore asked, "Do you wish to pull back, Draco?"

"I'll lose the chance at having an heir. Never have a wife."

"That is correct. One Bonded to a Hecatema cannot be legally married to someone else."

Draco frowned, "I can't imagine being able to seduce him."

"Hecatemae are not easily seduced, not until they're ready. The plan is that when it starts, you are right there. The moment you feel it, you make your move. Try it gently. Get to know him, get to be friendly. Harry Potter is a fighter to the core, and you might not win unless you convince him to accept you. Physically, you will be ready, the moment the Call starts. That is one thing you can be sure of. If you're very lucky, it will start as he sleeps. Then you can take him before he's even fully awake."

Draco said slowly, "Harry Potter a Hecatemus. Myself his Soul Mate."

"Together, you will be unbeatable. Voldemort doesn't stand a chance."

Draco suddenly realised, "The isolation wards. It's not a virus, is it?"

"No. It's to conceal from Harry and others what is happening, and will give you the chance to be first. When it starts, he'll instinctively throw shields up all around the walls, adding them to those that keep him prisoner. But you'll be right there, with him. No-one else will be able to get to him, at least not for a few days. The shields always break as the Hecatema weakens, and that's when the strongest one usually gets to her, - or him in this case."

"I've never been with a male."

Dumbledore looked in his desk, and came up with two items, a small booklet, and a tube of lubricant. He said, "As I understand, the Hecatema stops Calling the moment her virginity is breached, but the Bond is not formed until the Soul Mate completes the act. I presume it will be the same with a Hecatemus."

"I'm pretty sure that Harry has never had a sexual relationship."

"I don't think so, either."

Draco looked up frankly, "I don't think he will agree, and I'm not sure whether I can successfully force him."

"Concentrate on your lessons with Blake, and when it becomes imminent, there may be other measures that can be taken."

"Such as?"

"I have it under consideration. Meantime, make friends with him. Even if it makes him slower to fight back, it will help."

"Yes, Professor."

"You still want it, then?"

Draco thought very carefully. Did he want it? Not that he couldn't leave him if he chose. The book had told him that, but it had also said that Soul Mates were for life, that no Soul Mate ever wanted to leave. Draco reached out for the booklet and the small tube of lubricant.

He said positively, "I want him. I want to be Soul Mate to the Hecatema, and I will use him to kill the Dark Lord."

Dumbledore was very satisfied. Things were going exactly as planned.

Two days later, he was surprised to find a record of a previous Hecatemus after all, so Harry Potter was not quite unique. The Claiming had not gone well, as the youth had apparently managed to kill or cripple the first few who'd reached him, had fled, and then died of his own injuries. It had been over two hundred years before. It had been a Potter.

Draco found a particular young man, and made overtures. It wasn't like normal sex. He'd best understand a little more about it.

Trevor was happy to tell him how, and what hurt, and what was simply overwhelmingly pleasurable. He knew a few useful spells, as well, a lubricating spell, a cleaning spell, and a healing spell for minor lacerations.

"Practise doing the lubricating spell non-verbally," Trevor advised. "That reduces the warning for the one being seduced. It's how I was initiated. I would have probably run if I'd heard him Accio lubricant."

Draco practised. He needed access to his wand, but a silent incantation, and his fingers could spread a non-oily lubricant where it was needed.

Draco gave Trevor considerable pleasure, regularly every night. But he was watching Harry, waiting for his opportunity. His acid tongue was never heard these days, and he was pleasant and cheerful even to Gryffindor first years. Draco Malfoy had a goal in mind.

***chapter end***