A/N: Right. How to put this. One of my betas pointed out that Albus' request seemed, hmmm, rather beyond unorthodox, sooo… I do read gen, I do!, but I read so much slash that I think it just didn't occur to me that the request could be so totally "out there" as to be shocking. (My friend burst out laughing and joked about it.) Anyway, I can't really fix it without busting the story so…let's just pretend that same-sex marriage is a total non-issue in the wizarding world, all right? Yeah, that'll work…(groans and slaps head)

All your review have been wonderful! I must admit to being behind on reading them all as I've just changed computers and getting everything set up on my new laptop is a bit time consuming. (Flipping back and forth between computers using a pen-drive is no fun, let me tell you.) I'm working on them, though! Some things I can respond to:

1) Veelas - yep, I've done some major changing to the canon/mythical Veela. They are definitely more robust and independent instead of being simply sex objects. I've got an aside running through my head about why The Veela Accords are so unfair to wizards. I'm not sure it would be worth it to write it out, but I'll think about it.

2) The Tutor - mwa, ha, ha, ha, ha! Not Fleur, nope, nope. I will say that someone's gotten sorta close. You'll find out...later...

3) Albus - maybe he does seem a bit controlling and scary right now but I'm hoping that changes. We'll see a little later if I was successful in getting across his motivations. He's not evil. No trolls! (snicker)

4) The Prophecy - I will address this, including Harry's feelings about it, but not until later.

5) Action - I think I might be constitutionally incapable of writing action... There are some fireballs thrown later, though. Does that count? This is a slow story, but I hope it doesn't move too slowly...

Chapter 6 – From "D"

The Quibbler, Special Flyer, Monday, September 9, 1996

Your exclusive source for the official Harry Potter Suitor Count!

Mr. Potter has been so kind as to agree to provide our illustrious paper with an official count of his suitors on a weekly basis. Along with the count of suitors, Mr. Potter has agreed to answer a few simple questions each week so that those who might be interested can get to know a little bit about him. This week our own Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood was curious about Mr. Potter's favorite foods. Feel free to submit your own questions, though we offer no guarantee that they will be asked and/or answered.

Current Count of Suitors: 754

Favorite Drink: I actually like green tea the best. Pumpkin juice is all right, but it's sweet and I get tired of it really fast. The normal English or Irish breakfast teas are all right, too, I suppose, but what I'd really rather have is some good green tea.

Favorite Food: Strawberry and banana trifle with lots of gooey caramel. Delicious.

The remainder of the prior week had been…annoying.

He was behind on his mail, several of the teachers were being snooty, and while most of the students, for the most part, didn't bother him, some people just couldn't get over their gossipmongering tendencies or their burning desire to ask him invasive questions. Hermione, for instance, was doing just as he had thought she might, that being making his situation her own personal research project. She was forever asking questions of him, demanding information and then getting angry when he turned out to be unwilling to satisfy her curiosity. She was being constantly warned off by Neville and Lavender.

Lavender was turning out to be quite the surprise. Harry had expected to find Neville's company soothing, but Lavender? He had given it a great deal of thought on Saturday and had come to the conclusion that it might be because he knew that she was married, and happily so, to a somewhat wealthy older man that she adored. Sunday afternoon, then, he had actually sought out her company and asked if she would like to help him go through the various pieces of jewelry he had received and offer comments.

Lavender had been delighted at the request and Harry had found her comments positively invaluable. It turned out that Lavender was quite knowledgeable on the topic of jewelry. The two of them, occasionally joined by some of the other girls, had spent nearly three hours Sunday afternoon talking about the different makes, brands and styles of the bracelets and pendants that he had received. He had come away from their discussion with a much better understanding of just what it was he had received: a name brand versus a knockoff, a new piece versus something older, a mass-market reproduction versus a custom-made piece.

Lavender had been thrilled to realize that she was having a real impact on his courtship evaluations – Harry was making notations on all the appropriate files on whether he found the gift boring or impressive based on what he was learning from her – and had volunteered to sit with him for an hour every night until they had gone through all the jewelry. He had gratefully accepted and resolved to send her a very nice belated wedding present once he was mated or her marriage became public knowledge, whichever came first.

Ron was turning out to not be a surprise. The redhead was nearing the end of the deadline Harry had established in his head as to how long he was going to put up with the other boy's snit before chucking their friendship out the tower window. He didn't have time on top of everything else to try and soothe ruffled feathers, especially ones that weren't ruffled through any fault of his own, and considering that on Sunday Ron had still been an irritating loudmouth…. Well, unless a miracle had happened overnight, Harry was figuring he had one less close friend this morning.

Gathering his determination, Harry got out of bed and headed to the shower. Ron stubbornly ignored him as he passed and Harry sadly but resolutely ignored him back. He finished his grooming and dressing without incident and, as was his new custom the last several days, walked with Neville down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

The morning's conversation was a bit desultory, everybody being tired, despite the weekend, from readjusting into a school schedule of classes and homework, and Harry was able to keep to himself until the mail owls came. After the initial deluge, the number of pieces of mail he received each day had decreased and yesterday he had received only about a hundred. He estimated he had received a total of perhaps twelve hundred letters so far, although he had only managed to get through a bit over seven hundred of them.

At that rate, he'd be lucky to be caught up by the deadline.

In what was fast becoming a practiced morning ritual, Harry and his housemates managed to efficiently gather his mail and get it off the table within five minutes. It would have been done more quickly but the stacks were all carefully labeled with a date so Harry could respond to the older letters first before starting on the newer arrivals. About to return to his breakfast, Harry heard the non-owl-type cry of another bird.

The entire school watched as a very large bird finished its circling and came down to land on the table directly in front of Harry with a heavy thump. The bird was huge, easily three times the size of his own owl and was quite striking with bright yellow talons and beak and an attractive combination of dark gray/brown and white feathers. He'd never seen such a creature.

"My goodness," Harry murmured, "And what are you?"

The bird twittered at him and held out one of its humongous claws to which was attached a slightly bulky letter. Harry gently untied the letter and then gave the bird a piece of bacon. The bird twittered at him again then bobbed its head a few times before it waddled and hopped its way to the edge of the table and spread its huge wings and took off.

Harry watched the bird leave bemusedly, wondering if the suitor actually owned it or was simply renting it. Either way, it was certainly impressive. He leaned back in his seat and opened the letter, the first one he had actually opened in the presence of the student body, and everyone avidly watched him for his reaction.

The first thing Harry noticed was the beautiful and flowing script. What he wouldn't give to have handwriting like that. The letter started with a simple greeting followed by an introduction and description of the bird that had delivered the letter. The next paragraph was a respectful request by the suitor to be allowed to pursue the courtship behind a mask of mystery. He wanted Harry to get to know the real him and not the very necessary public persona or be influenced by the opinions of the vague but ever-present them. As Harry could easily sympathize he was inclined to grant the request, especially since the suitor planned to send regular letters so that Harry could get to know him.

With the letter was a ring, described by his suitor as an austringer's, or falconer's, ring. The ring was designed specifically for those who had a lot of contact with birds of prey and with one command would sheath the arm it was on in a thin, but completely impenetrable, glove that would protect against the powerful talons.

Harry was impressed with this suitor. He liked practical and the ring was the only practical gift he had received to date. And, while the enchantment was advanced and the workmanship exquisite, it wasn't an obviously gaudy and expensive gift like some of the others. He also liked the tone of the letter. It was respectful and lighthearted while still containing a bit of wry humor. Plus, the request and proffered solution was reasonable and had some thought behind it.

Harry put the ring on, an action that caused murmurs throughout the hall, then folded the letter, returned it to its envelope, and placed it into his bag. "Accipter manica," he said and looked at the black leather glove that now adorned his left arm.

"Someone sent you gloves?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"A falconer's glove," Harry replied absently and picked up his fork. "It's supposed to protect against the talons of hawks, falcons, owls, and the like." He prodded his fork against the glove hesitantly, then with more force as he felt nothing but a slight pressure. "Nice," he murmured, "Wish I'd had one of these when I first got Hedwig. Would have been downright useful, it would."

"I've heard of those," Neville said, staring in fascination at the plain black glove. "I've never seen one, though. What's it feel like when it's on like that?"

Harry moved his arm about, twisted his wrist, and wiggled his fingers. "Fine," he said in mild surprise. "It doesn't feel like I have anything heavier on than a pair of really lightweight gloves."

"Who's it from?" Hermione asked curiously.

"None of your business," Harry said mildly, flicking his eyes to his friend momentarily before returning to his scrutiny of the glove. "Abdo manica," he said and the glove disappeared. "Very nice. I like it."

Hermione flushed and said, "I'm just curious, Harry. You've never worn any of the gifts you've received as far as I know. I was just wondering whom it was that had caught your attention."

Harry nodded but didn't answer. Despite the fact that the suitor had hidden his identity, Harry knew exactly who he was; he had recognized both the writing and the lingering scent. Nevertheless, he was intrigued enough to play the secret-admirer game and let his suitor hide behind his little mask.

He would see the true face of Draco Malfoy.

--HPDM--

On the other side of the hall, Draco had barely suppressed a triumphant smirk when Harry had opened his letter right in front of everybody. Pansy, who had recognized the bird, had given Draco a look but he had just gazed blandly back at her. He had actually had to hide a grin behind a glass of pumpkin juice, though, when Harry had placed the ring on his finger.

The rest of the day, especially when he heard of Harry's response, was an exercise in control for Draco. While he may be ecstatic that his first gift had been received so well, it was certainly no excuse to walk around grinning like an idiot.

It just went to show where planning and a bit of honest thoughtfulness could get you.

He knew his great-grandmother's bird would catch Harry's attention. How could it not? The large eagle caught everybody's attention. With it being so unusual, people would have noticed it even if the bird hadn't been instructed to wait out the owls and announce its presence….

Next week's gift, Draco was certain, would also be well received. And, as long as Harry didn't keep his comments to himself about it, it would also let Draco tailor some of the future gifts he sent. Not that he didn't have every week from now until the end of the school year already planned out, because he did. But Draco's plans for Harry's summer were dependent on the comments that filtered through the grapevine about next week's present and so he hoped for some definitive feedback.

Draco was going to show Harry, in no uncertain terms, that he not only understood but also accepted and supported Harry's plans for the future.

--HPDM--

Albus looked around at the members of the Order of the Phoenix. He had just finished summarizing what he had learned in the past week and was gauging their reactions. He was pleased to see the reactions he had hoped for. There was suspicion, annoyance, and even a bit of anger at Minerva's theories as to the origin of Lily's journals and there was thoughtfulness and concern over Harry's Veela status and courtships. There was also frustration over the advice he had received from Filius, Severus, and Madam Maxime; all three had basically said "leave him alone."

Moody scowled at the table and said, "Albus, did Madam Maxime say why she was surprised at Potter's control?"

"Yes," Albus nodded. "Olympe stated that control such as Harry displayed only comes with practice under the guidance of a tutor. She had never heard of any newly awakened half-Veela mastering their abilities in only a month."

"So, Potter had a tutor," Moody stated. "Who?"

"I've no idea, Alastor," Albus replied with a frown. "I am certain, however, that this tutor never set foot into the Dursley's home."

"Which means that Potter left the premises," Moody said.

Albus nodded gravely and asked, "Did any of the guards notice anything this past summer?"

The Order members glanced around or stared thoughtfully at the table. Tonks finally spoke up and said, "I never saw him outside. I didn't think anything of it since my shift only went until nine o'clock and I just figured he was sleeping in. Maybe it was really because he wasn't there at all."

Albus looked around, "Did anybody else notice that Harry didn't go outside?"

The order members looked about at each other, but nobody spoke up. Albus said, "Perhaps I should rephrase the question. Did anybody see Harry outside at all?"

Again, there was silence.

Albus turned towards Moody, "Alastor? Did you see him?"

Moody looked thoughtful and said, "Yes, I saw him. Or thought I did. Now… I think maybe what I was seeing was a construct, a conjured mannequin. He never moved and I remember checking more than a few times that the boy was actually breathing. But if you're good at it, you can get a construct to simulate breathing."

"So it's possible that he didn't spend any time at all at his relative's house?" Albus questioned intently.

Moody nodded his head. "Possibly. The position that he was in changed between the times I was there, though, so someone had to either reposition the construct or banish it and recast a new image."

"Harry must have returned occasionally," Albus said decisively. "I'm certain no unauthorized persons entered that house and there was no unauthorized magic. Also, I cannot see any of the Dursleys agreeing to what you've suggested."

Moody shrugged but didn't reply and no one else had any comments.

"Where could he have gone?" Molly asked worriedly. "It's too dangerous for him to be off on his own. Surely he realized that?"

Moody gave a rueful chuckle and said admiringly, "Obviously he was with the tutor and I doubt we'll ever know more than that unless Potter tells us himself. If we haven't heard anything at all about Potter being sighted somewhere this summer, then I'd say he was likely holed up somewhere extremely private."

"Harry would never have been able to stay inside all summer," Molly protested. "That boy loves being outdoors. We should be able to find where he went if we ask around."

Albus shook his head and said, "No, I think that Alastor is right. Olympe said that control of the allure and shape-shift takes a newly awakened half-Veela an average of two hundred hours of training each. That's why it takes most of her half-Veela students a full two years to master their abilities. With schoolwork and social activities, the children practice only four or five hours a week. In order for Harry to have the control he displayed, he would have had to practice all day, every day."

"Well, what happens now?" asked Hestia. "Do we help him find his mate?"

"Haven't you been listening, woman?" Severus questioned snidely. "The boy must find his own mate and there is nothing we can do."

Hestia looked offended and said, "I just meant is there some way we can speed up the courtships or provide candidates?"

Albus held up his hand and Severus held in his retort. "The only way we can influence his choice is by having somebody initiate a courtship." Albus paused for a moment then said, "I know it's unorthodox, but I'd like to ask the unattached males to enter the courtships."

"That leaves me out," Elphias Doge said amongst the surprised murmurs, "I'm way too old."

Albus nodded, "True, but most of the others are within the age restriction. I admit to thinking that perhaps one of the Weasley boys would be the best match but would like to hedge our bets."

"You're crazy if you think Harry won't see right through this," George said a bit angrily, ignoring his mother's calculating look as he finally realized just why he and his twin had been invited to this meeting. "He's not stupid, you know."

"Perhaps," Albus said mildly. "However, we need to take this opportunity to guide him on the correct path."

A derisive voice came from a direction other than Severus. "George is right. None of us has a chance. It would be a wasted effort," Bill Weasley said.

"Why is that?" Albus asked.

"Harry will have a particular set of requirements laid out for what he wants in a mate. I wouldn't be surprised if one of those requirements was honesty. You know, not lying to him or hiding information?" Bill said disgustedly.

There was a short uncomfortable silence until Albus asked, "You are good friends with Fleur, correct? Can you give us any hints as to how to approach the courtships?"

Bill shook his head at the blatant dismissal but answered nevertheless. "Accept him for himself and not who you want him to be. And don't fail the tests."

The order spent the next half hour arguing and discussing, but in the end it was decided that all of the unattached males, except Severus, would enter the courtships. There were a total of six appropriately aged unattached males in addition to the four Weasley sons and all were to send a letter of intent within the next week. The three unattached males over the age limit were also going to send a letter of intent.

The youngest Weasley males were vehemently against the plan until they received a pointed look from Bill, at which point they quelled all of their objections. They left the meeting disgruntled and quickly agreed with Bill's casual suggestion that they all head to The Leaky Cauldron for a butterbeer.

After the four were seated, Fred asked demandingly, "Well?"

"Write your letters, let Dumbledore see them, and forget about it," Bill said and flipped the cap off his bottle of butterbeer.

The other three Weasleys looked at each other and then focused back on Bill. "Why?" Charlie asked.

"Do any of you really want to marry Harry?" Bill asked and took a swig of his drink.

"No," came three voices.

"Then don't worry about it. Don't deliberately throw your suit, but don't think for a moment that Harry won't notice your disinterest," Bill said and took another sip of his butterbeer. "You never know, you might even fail one of his tests."

Fred, George, and Charlie looked at Bill, looked at each other, nodded, and joined Bill in several rounds of butterbeer and casual conversation.

--end chapter--

Latin words: accipter - hawk; manica - glove; abdo - banish