White Coat, Chapter 5.

Er, as I've only got one reviewer of this story on I'm guessing it's not all that popular with this crowd. (shrug) As she asked for an update I'll give it and thanks, luv-blonde-bunny, for your feedback and encouragement. Writers don't live in vacuums and while I write for myself, it's greatly appreciated when others let me know they've enjoyed what I've shared. I've been reading in several communities that the practice of reviewing is falling to the wayside so perhaps this is not epidemic to this site.

HPHPHP

After three months of just his mate and himself Harry felt conflicted opening his door to guests. Admittedly, he had missed his friends, but none of them except for Remus, Albus, Severus and Ron knew that he had taken Lucius as his mate. Tonight that would change and he knew a feeling of loss. These last three months had been idyllic and were about to come to an end in many ways.

Knowledgeable of his godfather's temper and wanting to keep the dinner's fireworks to a minimum, Harry invited Remus and Sirius to come early in the afternoon. Lucius wanted nothing to do with the Gryffindors and had retreated to the garden. He'd stomped off with a stack of reports and interviews, but Harry suspected he'd be chasing butterflies before too long. Reunited with his veela self Lucius' appearance had changed, enough so that he was going to shock a few people at dinner.

"Harry!" Sirius cried when he opened the door, lunging forward to sweep his godson into a twirling hug. The emerald eyed wizard laughed and hugged him back, so pleased to see his Snuffles looking rather healthy. The animagi had almost been lost to them too many times for Harry not to appreciate the renewed sparkle in the older man's eyes. A sparkle that was no doubt due in large part to the quietly smiling man propping up the doorway.

"Hey Sirius," Harry said as his godfather returned his feet to the ground. "Good afternoon, Remus."

"Hello, Harry. This is quite the set up you have here," Remus smiled.

"I'll say!" Sirius exclaimed, spinning around as he took in the grand entrance with its elaborate spiral staircases. "This place is bloody huge! What the hell do you need with a place this monstrous?"

Harry shrugged. "It fits my tastes." Like a certain pampered blond who'd never batted an eye at the extravagant trappings. He grinned at Remus' soft snort. "Come on. We can have lunch," he almost said his study but realized Lucius might want access to his desk, "in the morning room."

"Morning room," Sirius repeated with raised eyebrows and Harry cringed inside realizing how pompous he sounded. "Sure, lead away."

"So, Harry," Remus said as they followed the brunette beneath one of the staircases, "Molly told us you've been giving interviews."

"Yes," Harry slowly answered. "Not in person and only in writing."

"She said something about that. About how mature and well spoken you were though you hardly say anything at all."

"Yeah? I guess I must read better than I talk." Lucius would certainly agree on that one.

"That could be it," Remus laughed and Harry shot him a sharp look. The interviews were a waste of his time as far as he was concerned, but Lucius took some kind of perverse fun in pretending to be Harry Potter and outwitting the reporters with their oftentimes loaded or suggestive questions. Had Remus guessed the blond's thinly veiled condescension in the interviews?

The house elves brought lunch and Harry pushed his food around his plate while he thought of how to begin this conversation with Sirius. It was all he had thought about for the last couple of days. His godfather was rambling on about the missions Albus had sent him and Remus on, but Harry barely listened. Across the table Remus watched him with a sympathetic expression.

"You might as well just tell him, Harry," the werewolf finally said.

"Eh?" Sirius looked from one to the other. "Tell me what?"

"Yes, well," Harry's eyes darted around the room till they landed on a discarded copy of the Daily Prophet "Have you stayed up with the Daily Prophet, Sirius?"

His godfather wrinkled his nose. "You know I don't, Harry. It's a rubbish tabloid."

"Yeah," Harry slowly replied. "See, the thing is, did you know my mother was a veela?"

He got the response he expected, Sirius dropping his forkful of chocolate cheesecake. "What?"

"My mother and Aunt Petunia had different fathers. My grandfather was a veela who left my grandmother when he met his veela mate."

"Veela?" The older brunette twisted to look at his lover. "Did James know Lily was a veela? Why didn't they say something?"

"It's possible James didn't know, Siri," Remus softly answered. "Veela are a secretive species since they are very vulnerable to the less scrupulous. The Ministry doesn't require them to register because of such a danger of abuse."

"But, Harry," Sirius said, turning back to his godson, "you're a veela? Is that why you've moved out here?"

"Partly. Mainly I wanted my privacy."

The beautiful Black nodded, rubbing at the back of his neck as he stared at nothing. These last few years and Remus' heavier influence had mellowed the volatile animagi and it showed as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "How long have you known?"

"A few years." Seeing the hurt bloom in those expressive blue eyes Harry tugged at his hair, frustrated. Why did this all have to be so hard? "We were at war, Sirius. I barely told anyone."

"Who?"

"Albus. Remus."

"You knew," Sirius challenged the werewolf, obviously growing more upset.

"It was not my secret to tell," his lover calmly answered.

"Okay." Sirius started up from his chair, bluish black hair twisted between his fingers in an unconscious habit reminiscent of his godson's. "Okay. Harry is a veela. No one can know. Wait." He jerked to a stop, pointing an accusing finger at Harry. "Daily Prophet. Did they find out? Is that why you asked? I swear, I'll kill whoever decided to print such a thing! They've put your life in danger!"

"Sirius! They don't know!" Harry exclaimed, startled at how quickly the older wizard was leaping to his defense. Startled and warmed. "They printed my marriage! Oh Merlin, don't faint, Sirius!"

"I'm not going to faint like some woman!" Sirius snapped, though his legs wobbled as he shakily returned to his chair. "Just, tell me why you think you're married."

"Because I am. Married and mated." He frowned at the older wizard's raised eyebrows. "Yes, mated to another veela. He was practically Voldemort's slave because the bastard had his veela coat. Do you understand that a veela cannot disobey whomever holds their coat? Defeating Voldemort freed him, which was frankly more important to me than a bunch of ungrateful, prejudicial wizards. I brought him here to heal and to cement our bond."

Sirius' large hands curled into fists on the armrests of his chair. "I'm not going to like this, am I? You've brought me out here to tell me you've lost your bloody mind and mated to a deatheater!"

"Yes," Harry rasped, forcing the words out, "he was a deatheater, but not by choice. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Things happened and we thought it best no one know who he really is."

"Harry!" Sirius lunged for his godson, intent on shaking some sense into him, but was intercepted by hissing white fur and claws. Instinct changed him into Padfoot, snarling and snapping back. Harry and Remus were shouting, but the black dog couldn't be distracted from the oddly scented creature trying to rip his throat out. They rolled across the floor and into furniture, a blurring of black and white twisting wildly about.

"Accio mate!" Suddenly Padfoot's attacker disappeared and he rolled over to see a pale slender figure wrapped in a white fur struggling in Harry's arms. The sweep of silvery platinum hair, unknown among muggles, that tangled to just below the waist made him think he was looking at a girl except for the masculine cut of the shoulders. Barring the length of the hair, it could have been Draco Malfoy, but that boy had never been a deatheater. So who? The body was male and young, and Padfoot rumbled softly when Harry dominated his mate by viciously biting his throat. The other boy stiffened, then submitted with a soft noise of entreaty and complaint, stilling. Harry's arms were full around the youth and his green eyes were hot as he looked over at Remus and Padfoot.

"I'm sorry, Sirius, but he must have thought you were attacking me."

"I-It's quite all right, Harry," Remus stuttered, staring in open confusion at the couple. His foot nudged Padfoot's flank. "Be civil and sit yourself in a chair, Siri." The werewolf followed his own advice, trying to appear as non threatening as possible. Though the white veela had attacked first, he did not mistake the protective way Harry held his mate. Who bore only familial resemblance to the deatheater he remembered from what he could see of the lad. "Harry, um, who is?"

Sirius reluctantly reclaimed his seat, hostility openly warring with his curiosity. When Harry tried to nudge his mate closer the blond growled and resisted. It was interesting to watch that white fur dip and fold yet somehow uphold the pale veela's modesty.

"No," the blond growled.

"Fox, they're not going to hurt you," Harry reassured.

"That rabid mutt attacked you!"

"Hey!" Sirius exclaimed, "I would never hurt Harry!"

The blond veela whipped around, a familiar sneer curling his lips. "Liar! Stay away from my mate!"

"What the hell? Lucius Malfoy?" Sirius' gaze darted to Harry before returning to stare at the teenager in front of them. "Harry, what is going on?"

The dark veela stroked the side of Lucius' face, obviously trying to calm him with his touch. His other arm, however, kept a cautionary restraining hold. The boy obviously knew his mate. "We're not entirely sure, but Albus thinks Lucius' long repressed veela side returned him to what was familiar. To when he last wore his coat."

"Lucius," Remus slowly said studying his former classmate, trying to place the boy in front of him to his memories, "you look like you did in sixth year."

"The summer before, actually," Lucius drawled. "That was when Black's mother found me out, stole my coat, and presented it to the Dark Lord."

"Bloody hell," Sirius groaned.

"Did you really think the woman died of natural causes?" The blond arched an eyebrow. "And anyway, how do you think I feel about it? I am forgetting, and despite what everyone may think, being a puny seventeen year old isn't a fantasy come real." The thin shoulders drooped and Harry hugged him tighter. "Most of it I would love to forget, but to lose all the memories of my son?"

"What about a pensieve?" Remus suggested, looking sympathetically on the veela couple. Harry had never expressed a problem having a mate old enough to be his father, perhaps understanding that in the Wizarding World such a gap was negligible. But now he had one younger than him physically, and soon mentally. Thinking back, Remus remembered Lucius had always been somewhat reserved, certainly arrogant, but before sixth year he'd also been more playful. Though that too had often times been cruel.

Very much like any feline Remus could think of.

"Albus is bringing one this evening," Harry said, drawing him back to the conversation.

"Harry, Lucius, what are you going to tell everyone?" Remus asked. "Lucius can't be kept here forever. And he'll have forgotten-"

"Don't say it, Lupin," Lucius hissed.

"His last two years at Hogwarts," the werewolf finished, smiling apologetically at the offended veela.

Harry's strong, Quidditch calloused hands stroked the curtain of shimmering blond hair. Lucius was not looking at anyone but he seemed to lean into the caressing. "We've already spoken of this, with each other and Albus. We decided it would be too traumatic to send Luce back to a school he would have completely different memories of so I will tutor him. Severus remembers Luce being ahead of the curve anyway, so it shouldn't be too hard.

"As to the rest of the world, Lucius Malfoy will receive the Dementor's Kiss for his crimes." Harry's fingers lifted the blond's chin to meet the shining silvered blue eyes. "This is Draco's cousin from France by way of Canada, Lucian Malfoy Renard. A beautiful, ravishing young man who quite swept the savior Harry Potter off his feet. His classy, charming, oh so witty new spouse."

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Indeed."

"And you're okay with what people will say of the Malfoy name?" Remus asked Lucius, searching out his eyes to assure himself this was a decision the once proud deatheater had fully agreed to.

"There is no recovering the Malfoy name on my part," Lucius snapped. "We can hardly tell everyone the truth and that is what it would take to clear my name. Draco, however, publicly sided with the Light, and redeemed the Malfoy name doing so."

"Why not?" Sirius shrugged, trying to look anywhere but at his godson being cute with a Malfoy. "No one would believe the truth. Hell, I barely believe it."

"How quickly is Lucius losing his memory?" Remus shot his troublesome lover a sharp glance. "Are you going to be okay with dinner tonight, Lucius?"

"I assure you, there is no cause for concern. From anyone." The blond aimed the last remark over his shoulder as he stepped away from the Gryffindors, gathering his fur as tightly he did his dignity. The pale teenager looked out of place in the brightly colored room, Remus silently noted. Like a spot of snow in the middle of summer. Honesty and full disclosure were never the Slytherin's style and he had obviously reached his limit. Harry let him go with a kiss to his upturned cheek and a few whispered words. Icy blue eyes spared Sirius a final glare. "Keep your vile scent off my mate, Black!"

The deceptively strong slim hand on his arm shut Sirius' mouth before he could shout back. Across from them Harry collapsed back into his chair with a tired rubbing of his eyes.

"He seems to be adjusting well, Harry," Remus reassured, "even with these obviously unexpected developments."

"That's cause we're mated," Harry softly replied. "The assurance and safety of the bond is instinctive. It's even stronger now that he's a newly matured veela."

"Does anyone have any idea how," Sirius' hand waved towards the door, "that happened?"

"Not really," Harry shrugged. "There's no written documentation of it anyway, which is perhaps just as well. Veela are creatures of magic." The younger wizard scratched at his eyebrow. "Albus thinks Lucius is being given a second chance. Like a start over or something."

Sirius leaned forward with a decidedly wicked grin. "Anyone besides Albus know, because, please, I would love to be the one to tell ol' Snivellus?"

Harry laughed, shaking his head, suddenly grateful for his godfather's irrepressible passion for mischief.

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When Harry next opened his door he was practically shoved to one side by a visibly upset Draco Malfoy. His old school rival had known his father was here instead of Azkaban, had even known Harry and Lucius were mates, but he'd just been told today about his father's unexpected regression. Following his husband Ron apologetically shrugged his shoulders.

"Sorry about that, Harry. Drake didn't believe a word Professor Dumbledore told us." The lanky redhead scratched an ear. "Gotta say, kinda hard to believe."

"It's okay, Ron," Harry said, closing the door. "In this case, seeing is believing. So how'd you come?"

Meanwhile, Draco had wasted no time in calling for his father. His raised voice drew Remus and Sirius out of the kitchen, Sirius licking his fingers, but Harry waved them off. After what felt like too long a wait they caught movement at the top of the stairs: a glimpse of pale gold and silver, and Draco was halfway up the steps before Harry could call out to him.

"Draco, he may not remember you!"

The blond veela ignored him, attention caught by the slender vision returning his regard from the landing. Lucius had dressed himself in flowing sand colored pants and a white shirt, the buttons halfway done showing his lean smooth chest. In one hand he gripped his veela coat, the startling whiteness spilling about his feet and the steps. Standing at the foot of the stairs with Ron Harry was silently amazed again at the overwhelming beauty of his mate.

"Bloody hell," Ron breathed, staring up dumbstruck at Harry's shoulder.

"Father," Draco said softly, and Harry felt his chest tighten at the wealth of pain and longing squeezed into that one word. The short haired blond had stopped a few steps down from the teenager, Harry and Ron keeping a respectable distance a few steps below. Harry carefully watched his mate, smiling encouragement when confused silvery blue eyes searched for him. He nodded and Lucius looked back to the son who was now older than he.

"My apologies," he quietly began, empty hand lifting to absently brush aside the air separating them. "My memory of you . . .is not recent. You," and his sharp white teeth bit into his bottom lip, "look as I hoped you would."

Whatever instinct or fear had held Draco in check he overcame, surging up the stairs to lift his father into his arms. The pale veela hugged each other tightly, Lucius burying his nose in Draco's neck to take in his scent. Harry could smell Draco's tears, though he didn't hear him openly sob until Lucius murmured, "You smell like my kit. My little dragon, you are the one thing I do not want to forget."

"I won't let you, father, I promise," his son vowed, tightening his hold on the thin teenager.

A soft noise prompted Harry to glance over his shoulder, Remus' sad smile sympathetic to the scene above them. "Albus has come," the werewolf softly said. "He said Lucius can use the pensieve now before dinner if he wants."

"Thanks, Remus," Harry whispered back. "Tell him we'll be down in a few?"

The sandy haired wizard nodded before going back the way he'd come. Watching father and son whisper to each other Ron frowned, wrapping his arms about himself. Seeing the doubt and pain in the keeper's chocolate eyes Harry bumped him. When that haunted gaze swung his way he raised an inquisitive eyebrow but Ron just shook his head.

"It's nothing to be done about, mate," the redhead pitched his voice to their ears alone. "You're just very lucky, Harry, more lucky sometimes than I think you know."

Harry frowned, but then realized what Ron was intimating. He and Lucius were both veela, mated for life. Ron and Draco were not. Just like his grandmother, Ron could one day be left behind, discarded for Draco's veela mate. What kind of torture was that, never knowing if the stranger on the street was going to take away your life, your happiness and family? It had to be complete agony, always in fear of the day.

"Ron," he started, needing to say something, but his friend's swift headshake stopped him.

"Don't, Harry," Ron warned. "It's a risk I know I have to accept."

"Draco may never have a veela mate, Ron," the ebon haired veela answered, "and even if he does, it doesn't mean your relationship would have to end. My grandmother, according to her journal, could not accept someone else into their bed. She chose her pride over her love. No one says you have to make the same choice she did."

"Not gonna be my decision to make so let's just leave it," Ron said curtly, heading back down the stairs. Harry frowned to watch him go, but he couldn't think of an easy cure to Ron's problem.

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Draco wanted to sit in with his father and Albus, but the old wizard closeted himself alone with Lucius. Some of the memories would be traumatic and Albus declared privacy was called for at these times. That he was also barred made Harry bristle, but the arrival of Severus Snape and Bill Weasley distracted him. Odd that, those two courting, but being an eldest child had instilled the soul of patience into Bill and someone of such steady, unruffled calm was what Snape needed to start his own healing in the wake of Voldemort's demise. The Potions Master had a most pleased, befuddled expression on his face every time he looked at his husband's lithely muscled form that Harry could only grin and watch, realizing what the looks meant. Snape seemed almost terrified, but proud, too.

"What's that look for?" Remus asked as he joined him on his side of the library they had all retired to while they waited on Albus and Lucius.

"I think ol' Snape filled Bill's oven," Harry quietly answered. The werewolf raised his eyebrows before glancing in the couple's direction. Severus was glaring sullenly at Sirius while hovering about his Weasley, who was animatedly chatting about motorbikes with the Black. Bill had a hand on Severus' person, giving necessary contact while focusing on his conversation, obviously used to dealing with his mercurial spouse. Remus delicately sniffed, but there were other hormones clogging the air.

Draco had backed Ron into a discreet corner, their heads close together. Veela pheromones were coming from their direction in waves, heavy and cloying. From what he could see Ron had his arms crossed and was upset about something. He didn't shove off the hands at his hips, though, and Draco's body language didn't speak of anger.

"What's on with those two?" Remus asked.

"Let's not even start," Harry grumped. "That is all Draco's problem and I wish him the luck of solving it. At least I can count on you and Sirius having a normal relationship."

"Normal?" Remus' eyebrows lifted at that and he glanced over at his lover. Tall and willowy with his pure-blood breeding, Sirius was as arrogant and charming as he had ever been with his long bluish black hair and teasingly mocking blue eyes. Calmer now after everything he had weathered, but never tame. "You do remember I'm a werewolf, right?"

"It's not your sex lives that make you normal, Remus," Harry dismissed, ignoring the older wizard's choked noises at his proclamation, "though on the subject of sex Lucius did say he had a few vials of Narcissa's eggs at Gringotts."

That was news. Frightening really. As a werewolf Remus could not carry a child nor impregnate Sirius, but there were magical means if the needed ingredients were to be had. Narcissa Malfoy had once been a Black, but his sperm was still contaminated and he quietly said as much.

Harry waved his hand. "Hermione doesn't see a problem. Combining magic and muggle science she's confident she could make a healthy fetus. The harder part will be convincing Sirius to carry it."

"He might surprise you, Harry," Remus said. Years ago they had accepted there could be no children, but Remus knew how much his lover wanted one. Or six. Arthur Weasley was secretly Sirius' hero.

"I hope he does," Harry grinned, but anything else he might have said was cut short by Albus ushering a dazed Lucius into the room. Harry was immediately at his side, with Draco steps behind, and the blond summoned a smile for them both.

"I'm fine," Lucius said from the comfort of his husband's arms. "The pensieve found a lot I had forgotten, not all of it bad. Albus is going to take it for now."

"Lucius was privy to many of Voldemort's meetings," Dumbledore explained, "and witnessed the committing of several crimes that can now be resolved." The old wizard patted Lucius' shoulder. "By using the pensieve his memory loss may accelerate, but at least his old life is preserved."

"How quickly?" Draco asked.

"Tomorrow or the next day, I'm afraid."

"Harry?" Ron's tentative voice drew everyone's attention to where the younger Weasley was perched on the back of the settee. The redhead flushed, but gamely met his best friend's eyes. "Why doesn't Lucius write himself a letter?" Warm chocolate eyes flicked to Lucius'. "I mean, it's all going to be awful confusing right after, right?"

"Good suggestion, Ron," Bill praised.

"Thank you, Ron, that is a good idea," Lucius echoed before frowning. "Though I am not certain where to start with myself."

"I'd start with the good bits," Sirius suggested, not unkindly. While it was obvious he was still somewhat shocked by everything it was equally plain that the animagi had decided it was beneath him to slander an already fragile teenager. "They'll be the most important in the end."

TBC.