I'm sure some of you will be unhappy that I didn't actually have to cut anything out today ^_^.
Part 60/?
Lucius poured himself a glass of fire whiskey and settled down into his favorite chair, sighing as it conformed to him and he began to relax. The last several days had been even busier than usual. The girls still not back from their trip to Underhill... and his son was *not* happy about that by any means, and O'Feahr had finally gone after them. Connor's absence had left the school temporarily lacking a DADA professor He and Severus were sharing the duties for the three highest years, while Draco, Blaise and Ronald Weasley were sharing the teaching of the younger years. It meant several hours out of his day that he really did not have to spend, but there was no one else he could think of that could do the job. Things had to be rearranged simply to make sure one of the boys had a free period for the younger grades, and he had to take all of the classes that occurred when Severus did not have the time. They'd doubled up a number of the classes, and that had helped a bit, but it had been a scheduling nightmare.
Of course, the worst thing about those who had gone to the home of Sidhe not returning, was that they *still* did not know to whom the old man had been talking. That, of course, meant that Harry was still in hiding. Certainly, he knew basically where his husband was, and had a way to get in touch with him in an emergency, but he would still far prefer having a larger part in his protection… and, he missed him.
He also had to worry about his lover's energy levels. He hadn't forgotten Godric Gryffindor's words about him not drawing power in a place he didn't feel safe, and he remembered how tired Harry had quickly become in the Keep. Yes, he had taken the Orb with him, but what if it wasn't enough? Or what if something happened and he wasn't able to draw in the magic he needed? Lucius willfully ignored the fact that Madam Faire was quite competent to take care of the young man, and even more the fact that she had the capability to contact him during an emergency.
And what was Harry doing, being out and around without the protection of his minidrag? Flick had shown herself the day before, and although Lucius fully admitted he wouldn't be able to tell one minidrag from another, she had ways of getting her identity across. He knew that she wouldn't have left him vulnerable by choice, so it must have been Harry's doing.
He'd felt it necessary to bring the Dursley's out of .. protective custody. He smirked at that thought. After all, they might be needed to testify, and it would have been hard for them to do in the shape they had been in. Harry might not even recognize them now... he had found a way to get the two males to lose weight. Not to say they looked good, but at least they didn't look quite so much like overgrown whales.
His popularity rating was still creeping up, very slowly, but consistently. The worst thing about that was figuring out how to gauge the students' suggestions the next time something happened. Certainly, they did a better job of public relations than anyone he could have hired for the job, but he believed, as did Severus, that it was likely they would eventually be working for themselves and he did not wish to become too dependent upon their help. He also still needed to solve the problem of a judge. The suggestion of using one of the Tuatha de Danaan was probably the best. At least he'd know they neither had been nor could be compelled by Dumbledore, whether before or during the trial. If even Draco, who *should* have been on the watch for that possibility, and likely had shields up, and Ehlana, who'd never even met the man before, and was not a mage, and so did not draw the magic into herself as his young dragon likely did, could be brought under Dumbledore's spell that quickly, then having any unnecessary humans in Dumbledore's presence would be dangerous to all concerned. Having a human judge was inadvisable.
Suddenly, Lucius became aware that there was something wrong. Although nothing showed on his face, the chair beneath him hardened in response to the sudden tensing of his body. He was in his own Manor, a place that should be entirely impervious to intrusion... but there was something wrong. He looked around slowly, as if he were simply searching for something, such as a book he'd put down and wanted to read. Nothing seemed out of place, nor was there anyone there. Not that he could see, at any rate.
He rose to his feet gracefully, and prowled, seemingly unconcerned, walking around much of the study, stopping to see if there was any business on his desk, or a message left on the mirror. Still, nothing was obviously wrong.
If he had been another man, Lucius might have simply thought he'd imagined it... whatever *it* was. But he was not. He trusted his instincts, and those instincts were telling him there was something different. Something he wasn't seeing.
He summoned a house elf.
"Master Lucius called for Moppy?" the house elf asked excitedly.
"Has anyone been in the study today?" he asked tensely.
"No, Master Lucius," Moppy shook her head. "Moppy has not seen anyone in Master's study today."
"Have there been any visitors to the Manor today?"
"No, Master Lucius," Moppy started pulling on her ears. "Moppy has not allowed any strangers into the Master's Manor."
Lucius frowned thoughtfully as he looked at the elf. There was something wrong with the way the house elf was answering, but he couldn't quite tell what it was. She wasn't lying, that would be impossible, but neither was she necessarily telling the whole truth. He dismissed the elf and turned back to the room. He pulled out his wand and held it by his side. With the wand, hopefully as a distraction, he sent his magic out, to feel if there was anything unusual in the room. He didn't feel anything, and finally settled back down.
He took another drink of the firewhiskey as he continued to look around the room. He observed everything as closely as he could, and still did not see anything out of place. Everything was where it should have been, nothing was missing, nor was there anything new in the room.
So what was setting off his alarms?
Could he simply be overstressed? Seeing enemies where there were none, simply because he didn't know what was happening with Dumbledore or Harry?
He placed his wand on the chair arm and settled back down. In response to his mood, the hardness eased slightly, but the chair was nowhere near as soft and comforting as it had been when he first sat down.
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Someone was watching him. That's what the feeling was. He checked the mirror again, thinking that perhaps Harry or Draco was watching him through it without making their presence known. Why either one would do that, he didn't know... well, perhaps Harry. Using the mirrors for more... eclectic uses... had come into his mind a time or two. The mirror, however, was empty. He checked his personal mirror, although since it was only linked to the one in the study, he did not believe it to be the problem. And he was correct; it was not.
It should be impossible to get a scrying spell through the wards on the Manor, but if that was what he was feeling, he knew how to get away from it until he had time to deal with it... and whomever was casting it. With an abrupt movement, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Scrying spells were single place spells, and it was almost impossible to use one on a moving target. Keeping it in a room was one thing, but on a person moving quickly down hallways and up stairs, was impossible.
But the feeling of being watched didn't leave. Not for long anyway.
A quick check of the wards showed them to be in perfect working order, including the ones that guarded against spying. So what was going on?
Perhaps a ghost? No, the ghosts of the Manor knew better than to do such a thing, nor did they have the ability to hide themselves. There was no such thing as an invisible ghost within Malfoy Manor. Invisibility would give them the ability to find out more than the Lord was interested in having them know.
Lucius moved through the Manor, keeping his awareness spread out around him. Always, the feeling of being watched stayed. It was like he was being stalked. It was beginning to get very… annoying. As he stepped into the library, he realized that he was irritated, but he wasn't truly afraid. No, that wasn't the right word. He was Lucius Malfoy, and it would take much more than a single stalker that had yet to do anything, to scare him. He wasn't receiving a feeling of danger from it. That was more like it. It was as if the stalker didn't mean anything bad... but if that was really true, he should show himself, not skulk around in whatever way he was doing.
Lucius finally decided that the only way to find out who was doing this was to set a trap. Let the person or thing believe they had lulled him into a false sense of security... then strike. He pulled a book from one of the shelves and settled himself down to read.
Thirty minutes passed with nothing changing, but Lucius was patient. It would be best for him, whomever he was, to get frustrated first. And then it happened. As Lucius sat, calmly pretending to read his book, he felt the intensifying of the watching, as if the watcher was contemplating a move and just measuring Lucius to make sure the move was unexpected.
Although nothing was heard, Lucius was sure whomever it was, was getting closer.
He was close. He knew it. He could almost feel the person breathing on him, if indeed it was a person.
There! Magic! Headed his way!
Immediately, he attacked, throwing a burst of pure magic backed by a pushing spell towards the location he'd figured out moments before.
He heard a thump as several books fell off a bookcase ten feet behind him.
With his wand in his hand, he whirled about and headed straight towards the spot. He reached down and grabbed. Whatever was there had to have some physical form, or the pushing spell would not have pushed him into the bookcases hard enough to cause the books to fall.
As he'd half expected, he felt cloth and pulled it away immediately, only to stop, completely flabbergasted.
"Harry?"
His husband grinned weakly up at him. "Um... surprise?"
Part 61/?
Night was just beginning as four female figures on silver-white steeds came upon the High Court. Hermione was reminded of her first glimpse of Hogwarts, a place of magic and mystery unlike anything she'd ever seen before. Stone that glowed golden in the light of the setting sun and rose high overhead, towers so thin and fragile looking it seemed as if they were floating in midair, for no other use but decoration, for surely they couldn't bear the weight of even a single soul. Trees that glittered in the light, throwing rainbows of colors off of their leaves, and were covered with sweet, ripe fruit, ringed the outermost wall.
The Elvensteed were treading on a magnificent marble causeway, metal shod hooves chiming musically. Together they rode into the courtyard, and there the breath of the two Overworld witches was completely taken away.
As magnificent as the castle was, as breathtaking as its surroundings might be, it was nothing compared to the people inside. Seeing Aine alone in no way had prepared the two girls for the unearthly beauty of a court full of Sidhe. Willowy, graceful, beautiful, exotic... all of these could be used to describe the Sidhe, but none of them touched upon their actual appearance. Lights twinkled, flowers bloomed, jewels sparkled, silk billowed, and all of it was but a backdrop for the ethereal glow of the people themselves.
Aine and Ehlana gracefully dismounted off of their steeds, but Hermione and Thyme could not make themselves get down. It wasn't that they were too stiff and sore from the unaccustomed riding, although they were. It was simply the fact that they would not be able to dismount with anywhere close to the fluid grace of their friend and her mother. The last thing either of them wished was to appear clumsy and uncoordinated to these beautiful people.
As they were sitting there, two tall men walked forward. "Goddess Aine," one said, bowing deeply. "You are ever welcome."
"Thank you, Luah," Aine answered politely. "Is King Nuada receiving?"
"He is," Luah answered in his deep voice. "May we help your companions down?"
"If you would please," Aine smiled.
Without another word, the two handsome men were standing by the side of the Elvensteed, each giving their hand to one of the still sitting witches. Hermione and Thyme both blushed deeply, even as they accepted the help and managed to land on their feet without looking too awkward. Their faces were still red as they walked over to Ehlana and Aine.
"You've got boyfriends," Ehlana whispered with a grin.
"Yes, and they're nice, but they never looked like those two," Thyme whispered back. Hermione had to agree. They might love their guys, but they most certainly did not look like *that*.
"This way," Aine told them, beginning to walk straight into one of the largest groups of people there. Ehlana grabbed her friends' hands and pulled them along after her.
"I would have thought you'd be trying to get away," Thyme couldn't help but remark.
"Here?" Ehlana scoffed. "If there are worse places to take off from, I don't know where they are. I wouldn't get more than half a kilometer before being picked up."
They followed the older... much, much older if truth was to be told... woman through the pack of people and into the presence of the King.
King Nuada Silverhand was sitting on a throne made of silver, etched with fabulous designs. Warriors stood at sentry around the perimeter of the room, and the king's sword was propped up, at the ready, next to his throne.
Upon seeing the Goddess of Healing, Nuada stood up with a smile. "It is good to see you again, Aine," he welcomed.
"And you as well, your Majesty," Aine answered as she dropped into a deep curtsey. Behind her, Ehlana curtsied as well and pulled Hermione and Thyme down with her. Thyme had no trouble with it, having learned the graces while she was younger. Hermione had never had classes in etiquette, but she did an admirable job. Aine introduced the children with her to the King and Court.
"What brings you to the Court?" Nuada asked, once he had gestured for everyone to stand.
Aine turned around, calling Ehlana forward. The girl stood with her mother, her eyes on the floor. "I would ask that one gifted in healing the mind, check my daughter."
Nuada frowned, but gestured another man forward from among those nearby. "Miach, will you do as Aine asked?"
The God of Natural Healing walked forward. Although, mental illnesses were not normally a part of his duties, it was something he was practiced at and had an affinity for. Gently, he took hold of Ehlana's head, and raised it up so he could look into her eyes. "Great Danu!" he swore. "Who has done this?"
"What did you find?" Nuada asked.
"She has been placed under a compulsion," Miach answered angrily. He abruptly let her go and turned to stalk out of the room.
Hermione and Thyme looked at each other in confusion.
"Do you know who has done this?" Nuada asked, his voice hard and his bearing every inch that of a warrior king.
Aine nodded at the girls, and Hermione stepped forward. "We believe it to be Dumbledore," she said confidently. "Ehlana, as well as Lucius Malfoy's son Draco, were there when your warriors captured our ex-Headmaster. Both of them returned from the capture with the determination to find Merlin and ask him to be the judge for Dumbledore's trial, no matter how we tried to talk them out of it."
"You do not believe that to be a good idea?" one of the king's advisors spoke up.
Hermione shook her head. "How could he be considered impartial?" she asked. "Although he has never met Harry Snape, Harry *is* his Heir."
There was a sudden outbreak of talking from around the room.
"His Heir?" Nuada asked. "Are you sure?"
Hermione looked confused but nodded. "According to a genealogy chart created by Rowena Ravenclaw, he is."
"Interesting," Nuada said with a blank face.
Thyme and Hermione traded a glance. Neither of them missed the fact that their news had surprised and even shocked King Nuada. It was obviously an important piece of information. The question now was, why?
That seemed to be the end of the conversation at that moment. Thyme and Hermione wandered around the room until they ended up in a corner. They felt frumpy and completely out of place in their dark school robes, in a room full of beautiful people in beautiful clothes.
They might have been staying out of the way, but they were also listening. They heard many comments about Merlin and his Heir, but never enough to put together into some semblance of an idea of whatever import their revelation had to the Sidhe.
It was unexpectedly hard to measure time here. It seemed fifteen minutes or so after the Celtic god had left the room, when he returned. He handed Ehlana a potion that she drank without a word. Once she had finished it, she blinked several times and shook her head.
"Do you still wish to go after Merlin?" Aine asked her daughter.
Ehlana frowned. "No, of course not," she answered. It took a moment for her to realize why she was being asked that. "How did it happen?" she asked.
"We're not sure yet," Aine said, pulling her into a hug. She turned to Nuada. "My King, do you have an answer?"
"I must admit, I do not... yet," Silverhand admitted.
Hermione moved forward once more. "Has it been discovered yet, which students Dumbledore spoke with?" she asked, hopefully.
Nuada tilted his head slightly. "He has proven to be most... obstructive."
Thyme moved forward then, but Miach was her target. "That potion you used; it breaks compulsions?" she asked carefully.
"That's correct," he answered.
"Do you have to know what the compulsion is, or who is under it?" was her next question.
Hermione and Ehlana drew themselves up to their full heights and looked at each other excitedly. If there was a potion that could break a compulsion *without* knowing what it was... that would take care of a great deal of their problems right there.
Miach considered the question. "It is not necessary to know what the compulsion is," he responded. "However, it is necessary that there *be* a compulsion. The consequences could be very bad, perhaps even fatal, if given to one who is not under such a geas."
They all sighed as their main hope was dashed. Yes, it could break an unknown compulsion, but they wouldn't be able to just give it to the entire school as they'd hoped. They *still* had to know who it was Dumbledore had spoken with, and that knowledge had not yet been drawn from the old mage.
However... Hermione looked at Aine and then Miach. "You both knew just by looking at her, that Ehlana was under a compulsion. Would you know if you looked at anyone?"
Miach thought over the question. "Perhaps." he admitted. "However, Ehlana, for all of her humanity, is very much of the Tuatha de Danaan. I am not sure if that contributed to the ease of discovery, or not. Whether it would be feasible for us to recognize such a spell on others of the human race that we do not know, I can not say."
Hermione walked over to him. "I am not aware of any compulsions I might be under, however, I have been one of Harry Potter's best friends since his first year at Hogwarts. I no longer trust Dumbledore not to have taken advantage of that fact. I would appreciate it if you would try to see if any compulsions have been placed upon me."
Miach agreed easily, and took her face into his hands, looking deep within her eyes. It was like a tingling sensation in her brain, not unpleasant, but not entirely relaxing, either. His eyes grew dark and he stepped back, turning towards the other Hogwarts student in the room. Without even waiting to ask or be asked, he took her head in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. When he stepped back, he turned towards his King and scowled. "Both of them are under compulsions. I was not able to tell what they were, but this child's," he placed his hand on Hermione's shoulder, "is of several years duration, while her friend," he nodded at Thyme, "has been under one for less than a year."
Thyme nodded. "That makes sense. I really only became someone Harry and his friends talked to within the last ten months or so."
Miach turned to face them once more, looking at them all, considering. "Do you know someone who is beyond competent at brewing?"
They all nodded. "Professor Snape," Hermione spoke up. "He's the youngest Potions Master in England. He's extremely good."
"I will send you with a copy of the recipe I used on Ehlana, and will use upon you. However, to use it, you must know who needs it. I will try to teach this young one," he nodded at Thyme. "I believe she has the ability to see more than most, as well as a natural ability to heal and a high level of empathy. All are necessary to become a Soul Healer. It will take some time for you to learn all of this. Do you feel you can?" this time he was speaking directly to her.
Thyme nodded seriously. "My grandmother is a Healer, and I have always planned to follow in her footsteps. I will gladly learn all you are willing to teach me."
Miach nodded his agreement, then with a short bow to the King, led his new apprentice out of the room.
"Do not despair of the time," Nuada said kindly to Hermione, who was, indeed, worrying about that. "Time passes differently here than it does in your world. We have the time here for her to learn this, without placing anyone there in danger because of tardiness. However, we cannot just have you wandering around unsupervised. Is there somewhere in particular you would like to go?"
Hermione's eyes lit up. "Do you have a library?" she asked, almost worshipfully.
One of the courtiers laughed. He had watched everything that happened. With knowing eyes, he introduced himself to Hermione, "Indeed we do, young one. I will show you the way. I am Ecne."
Hermione's eyes went wide. "The Celtic God of Knowledge," she breathed in awe. She happily followed him out of the room.
"You may rest assured, Lady Aine," Nuada smiled to her. "Your guests will be well taken care of."
"I thank you, my King," she curtsied deeply, then led her daughter out of the room and to the guest chambers where they would be staying. It was past time to get some sleep.
Part 62/?
~~As he'd half expected, he felt cloth and pulled it away immediately, only to stop, completely flabbergasted.
"Harry?"
His husband grinned weakly up at him. "Um... surprise?"
"Surprise?" Lucius snarled out. He reached down and grabbed hold of Harry's arm, dragging him to his feet. "You think this is a good *surprise*? I could have killed you!"
"You wouldn't have!" Harry disagreed immediately.
"I didn't know it was you!" he growled. "All I knew was that there was someone around who wasn't showing their face, stalking me! Yes, I only used a pushing charm, but what if I hadn't? What if I'd cursed or hexed you? Did you even *think* about that before you decided on this stupid stunt?" By this time his hands were gripping both of Harry's arms, and it was only his iron self-control that kept him from shaking the life out of the boy.
He pulled Harry over to the couch and forced him down. "Sit down and explain to me exactly what the *hell* you were thinking!" he practically roared.
Harry's eyes were wide. He didn't think he'd ever seen Lucius so angry, at least not at him. He gulped. "Well, it was just... aside from us, Draco and Dad are the only ones that could come here, and I knew neither of them had spoken to Dumbledore, so I figured it would be safe to come here for the night. Besides, I missed you."
Lucius shook his head. "That doesn't explain a thing. Yes, you are correct that it's probably safe to visit here. However, that does not mean it's safe to wander around under an Invisibility Cloak and try to sneak up on an ex-Death Eater mage!"
"You're not dangerous to me," Harry disagreed.
"When I know it's you, I'm not," Lucius admitted through gritted teeth. "However, if I *don't* know it's you, I'm capable of quite a bit. Think about it Harry! You're not stupid, so open your mind and *think*. What would have happened if I had used a curse? Not only to you, but what would have happened to our child?" His voice gentled as he knelt down in front of Harry and placed his hand on his lover's stomach to emphasize his question. He frowned. "Dear Salazar, something is wrong," he gasped, as his hand encountered a hardness he wasn't expecting.
He reached and pulled up Harry's blouse until he could see the small bulge. His hands gently touched and palpitated the taut skin. "We need to get you to Madam Faire, now," he ordered. "I'll never forgive myself if I've harmed either of you."
Suddenly all confusion and worry went out of Harry's expression at the anguish obvious in his husband's voice and face.
"It's okay," he hurried to reassure him. "I already talked to Madam Faire about it this morning. It's fine." He placed his hands over Lucius'. "This is where the baby is growing," he told him, smiling slightly. "As it grows, the walls of my womb are pushing against my abdomen to get more room. That's why it's hard."
Lucius looked at their hands, resting gently on the black-haired young wizard's stomach. His baby, Draco's little brother, was growing right there, under his hands His expression of awe only lasted a moment, until what could have happened hit him even harder.
"I would have thought this alone would have stopped you from doing something as stupid as what you did," he glared at Harry as he spoke.
This time Harry's eyes lowered as he began to really think of everything that had happened. Lucius was right. He should have thought twice about his 'fun little idea'. It wasn't turning out so fun any more, was it? "You're right," he conceded. "It was really stupid."
"Yes, it was," Lucius didn't let up for a second. "So *why* did you do it?"
Harry reached into his pocket. "Well, I was talking to Jeri, because she was the only one I could tell about this," he pressed his free hand against his stomach once more. "Anyway, she took me to this... um... place, yeah, it was just a place," he stuttered. "And, well, I saw this, and I remembered what you said, and I thought it would be fun," he rushed through his explanation even as he pulled out the collar that had caught his attention in the store.
Lucius looked at it and realized what it was and what Harry was saying. He shook his head. "What you *should* have done, was come to the study... let me see you. I would have let you chase me all over the Manor if that was what you wanted. But you should never have tried to sneak up on me! That was the irresponsible and idiotic part! When I told you that you could only put that on me if you caught me, I did not mean that you should sneak up on me to do it. I needed to know what was happening, so I didn't react like I did today," he said intently.
"I didn't think," Harry admitted.
"No, you didn't. You know better than that," Lucius reminded him.
"Yes, sir," Harry muttered.
"That's enough," Lucius barked. "I'm not your father, and I don't expect you to say 'sir' or obey orders if we're not playing. I just need you to think things through. You can't take chances like that... for either of you."
"I know," Harry agreed again.
Lucius moved up onto the couch and pulled Harry into his arms to cuddle him. He'd been so scared the moment he realized what could have happened. The idea that *he* could have been the reason Harry or their child was hurt, was horrifying.
It seemed that Harry finally understood what had Lucius so upset. He thought of what would happen if he'd snuck up on someone else like that, or if it had happened while Voldemort was about. He could very well have been hit by a curse that would have done serious damage. Truthfully, if the push hadn't been surrounded by unfocused magic, it probably would have done some damage. Luckily, he had been able to let that magic go straight through him, but it would have been dangerous for anyone else. He started breathing deeply and shivering slightly, cuddling deeper into his husband's lap.
Lucius ran his hand through Harry's hair, using the petting motion to calm them both down. "The next time you want to surprise me, just showing up in the study will do just fine," he said softly. He didn't want to badger Harry about it, but he had to make sure that it *never* happened again. If he had been in a worse mood... if he had felt threatened, or had gotten any more annoyed... it would have been a lot worse. Just that push could have hurt his husband, especially if he'd hit something hard, or if he'd been turned the wrong way.
"I will," Harry agreed. He twisted around until he could look his husband in the eyes. "I promise."
"Thank you," Lucius said gratefully. He nodded down at the collar Harry had let drop onto the couch. "Do you still want to...?" he asked.
Harry shook his head. "Not right now," he admitted. "I'm not in the mood any more."
Lucius was silent for a moment, just stroking. Then he remembered something else Harry had said. "So, exactly what type of place did Jeri take you, anyway? Especially if it was somewhere you could find something like 'that'."
Harry blushed. "It was a sex store. Merlin, I was embarrassed. She thought I needed something to take care of myself when you weren't around."
"What's wrong with your hands?" Lucius asked, even as he thought about what kinds of things Harry might have been looking at. "You're very good with them, as I have reason to know."
"It just... doesn't feel right if you're not there, or at least watching," Harry admitted.
"So?" Lucius murmured. "Call me up on the mirror. I'm sure I'll enjoy the show."
"What?" Harry squawked. "Mirror sex?"
"Certainly," Lucius leered. "I could even tell you what to do if you wanted."
Harry's eyes glazed as he thought over that idea.
Lucius suddenly frowned. "Do you mean you don't even have a wank if I'm not there?"
"Well, no," Harry said. "It wouldn't seem right. We're married, after all."
Lucius kissed him hard. "Married isn't the same as dead," he said when he let him up for air. "You're a teenaged male with the hormones of a pregnant woman running through you. When you're away from me, I don't expect you to be asexual, just solitary."
Lucius suddenly moved his arms so he was cradling Harry, then surged to his feet. "Obviously," he smirked as he headed towards the door, "we have quite a bit of time to make up."
Harry wrapped his arms around Lucius' neck and smiled as he was carried out of the study. His smile turned a little devilish as he gestured towards the collar left behind and it flew into his hands. Just because he wasn't in the mood to play with it now, didn't mean that he wouldn't want it later. It was better to be prepared.
The Malfoy Lord carried his husband up to the bedroom they'd shared for only a single week. It was only while he was settling Harry onto the bed that he realized what the boy was wearing. The blouse and skirt were appealing, but a little skimpy for the weather.
Harry seemed to read his mind as he chuckled. "I took off the heavy stuff once I came inside. It might be cold out there, but the Manor's surprisingly warm."
"All the better for me," Lucius murmured as he dove in for a kiss.
Harry embraced him eagerly, having missed the unique flavor that was Lucius Malfoy. It seemed as if Lucius couldn't get enough of Harry, either, as he pulled away to nibble down his neck, before heading back to his mouth for another round. For long minutes they did nothing but kiss.
It wasn't until Harry started pressing himself upward, pushing against the solid body above him, that they moved on. Slowly, clothes came off, skin pressed against skin. Fingers touched and glided, pinched and played. Legs and arms intertwined. Gasps and moans echoed through the chamber, when they weren't muffled by pieces of their lover's anatomy. Hardness rubbed against hardness, and then farther back, until finally they were one.
A shout of completion, a scream of a name, panting murmurs of "I love you."
A gentle settling, slowly cooling. Quiet, sleepy voices, tender chuckles. Cuddling and snuggling, pressing together.
Darkness, followed by the silence of peaceful sleep.
Part 63/?
Ehlana sighed. She figured she was spoiled. She'd spent nine years of her life here in Underhill. She had friends, though mostly adults, and had learned a lot. Ever since she'd been rescued from her drunken father, she'd had a wonderful life; she knew that. Never once since she came had she doubted that she was loved. Well, okay, never had anyone here done anything to make her doubt she was loved. Her own insecurities had caused occasional moments of doubt. She loved it here, and had wanted to come back. Now she had. And she was lonely.
It had only been a month since she had met Harry and been brought into his circle of friends. Only a month, and yet it seemed like so much more. There weren't very many children Underhill. Few were human; fewer still were of the Tuatha de Danaan. She'd never had a really close friend of her own age until she left. She sometimes found it hard to believe how quickly the close-knit group had accepted her, but she knew she was now a part of their group, and it felt wonderful.
Now, however, she was back home. And even though two of her friends were with her, they both had things to do. Thyme was busy with Miach, learning to expand upon the basics of healing she already knew, and strengthening her empathy until it was strong enough to *see* compulsions. Hermione had only left the library to eat and sleep, and she wouldn't even be doing that if Ecne didn't force the issue. All in all, it meant Ehlana was left alone, something that she used to like, but was finding wearing on her nerves at the moment.
"Hello, Ehlana," a voice said melodiously.
"Lady Airmid," Ehlana jumped to her feet as she realized the one speaking to her was Miach's sister, Goddess of Herbs and Herb-Lore. "May I help you?"
"My brother needs some herbs, that only grow here in Underhill, for the potion needed to break compulsions. I thought you might wish to come with me to harvest them," Airmid offered.
"I'd love to," Ehlana said immediately. It would be great to have something to do. "I just need to tell my mother where I'm going."
"That's all right," Airmid said softly. "I already spoke to Aine and she gave her permission. We need to leave now if we plan on being back before nightfall."
Ehlana blinked and wondered how far they were going if they were going to be gone all day. She decided to just follow along for now.
They rode for over an hour, ending up in a deep patch of woods. Airmid showed her the plant they were looking for, warning her about taking more than one flower from each. Her eyes went wide when she then told her they'd have to gather at least a hundred flowers for the amount of potion they'd need to make, and that more would be best. It was going to be a long day.
It turned out not to be as bad as Ehlana expected. The plants were relatively easy to find and the flowers came away without much trouble.
"I must admit, I had another reason for asking you to come," Airmid said softly as they met back up at the horses to lay in their harvest.
Ehlana looked at her warily. That didn't sound good. She'd begun to internalize her Slytherin friends' attitude; she recognized this and wondered if she was becoming as paranoid as they were. "What do you mean?" she asked intently. Airmid had a good reputation, much like her brother or her own mother's, but it was still a worry.
"There's someone that wished to speak with you," Airmid smiled reassuringly even as she nodded to the side. Ehlana looked up and her eyes grew wide. She knew that person. She'd seen his pictures before Although the hair and beard were long and white, somewhat reminiscent of Dumbledore, though not quite that long, his bearing and appearance was not 'doddering old fool' but 'warrior mage' He reminded her far more of King Nuada than what little she'd seen of the old Headmaster.
He rode closer until he pulled up in front of them, and drew his leg lithely over his horse's back as he dismounted. As he stood in front of her, Ehlana couldn't restrain a gasp. Portraits abounded about this legendary figure, and his face was well known, but she'd never realized that his eyes were the exact same shade of green as Harry's.
"You must be Ehlana MacLir," he murmured in a deep but nice voice.
"Y-yes sir," she gasped out.
"I hope you don't mind that I had Lady Airmid set up this meeting, but I've been hearing rumors about an Heir, and I was informed that you might know this person," Merlin explained.
Ehlana just nodded, still too stunned to respond in any other way.
"Can you tell me about him?" the elder mage prompted.
"You've got his eyes," Ehlana blurted. She blushed and shook her head. "Or I guess, he's got your eyes. But they're the exact same color."
"That does make it more likely he's actually related to me," Merlin admitted thoughtfully. "My eye color was fairly rare when last I set foot on Overworld."
"Hermione Granger would really be the best one to talk to," Ehlana suggested almost painfully. She really wished to speak to the man, but she was not the best source of information, and she felt it was important. "She's known him since he started school, I only met him a month or so ago."
"You know enough for now," Merlin waved away her concerns and led her to a patch of grass, sitting easily, with no signs of his extreme age. Ehlana might have been more impressed with that if she wasn't with someone that had outlived him by over a thousand years and yet looked only in her early thirties. Still, Merlin was supposedly human, so the long life *was* something to appreciate.
"Tell me about him," Merlin ordered.
Ehlana talked.
There was much she still didn't know about the Savior of the wizarding world, but she knew enough to tell the older mage some about his birth and childhood. In truth, she knew little more than the fact that he had been abused and made to do all the work at his aunt and uncle's. About his friends, she could speak a bit more, and did. She talked about the things that had happened since she met them, the finding of Gryffindor, the uniting of the Houses, the research that seemed never-ending but was made enjoyable because of the company. She told of the Genealogy room being found off of the library, the way it showed a wizard's pedigree through lines lighting a path between two names called out, and the way it could trace out indirect relationships and find Heirs. She explained how they all played with it, calling out people they knew, to see if they could find relationships between them, how Harry had brought the adults to see it, and how his husband had found the lines leading between Merlin and Harry.
"After the reporters explained what they had seen, we all went back into the room and redid it. We still came up with the same results. And every one that we could check came out correct. Neville was the Gryffindor Heir, and he was the first one in five hundred years able to open the door to Godric Gryffindor's Keep. We checked the Weasley line... that was fun," she said, almost sarcastically. "I know there are jokes around about the Weasleys having extraordinary fertility, but why they haven't taken over the world I don't know. There's got to be hundreds of them, yet Ron and his sister are the only ones at Hogwarts. I thought that was kind of strange."
"Is this 'Harry' the child of two mages?" Merlin asked intently.
Ehlana shook her head immediately.
"Are you sure?" he asked, frowning.
"Positive," she answered. "I don't remember what they said his father's animagus form was, but it was a normal animal; I remember that coming up once."
Merlin sighed. "Then he is not my Heir," he replied. "If, as you say, he has my eyes, than he is undoubtedly descended from me, and is likely my blood heir. However, my Heir, my true Heir, must be the child of two mages."
"So maybe it's his baby," Ehlana considered.
"His baby?" Merlin asked, perplexed.
Ehlana gasped and her hand went up to cover her mouth. "Didn't I tell you he was pregnant?"
"No, I do not believe that was spoken of," Merlin responded, his expression intent once more.
Ehlana nodded. "He's about three months pregnant, and both he and his husband are mages. In fact, he didn't do any spell nor take a potion to get pregnant, his magic did it just because he wanted a child."
Merlin rose gracefully to his feet. "I believe I have everything I need at the moment. I will, perhaps, speak to you again. Lady Airmid," he nodded his head towards them both and remounted his Elvensteed.
Ehlana watched him go, then turned to the woman with her. "Do we have all we need?" she asked, moving towards their own steeds as she spoke.
"I believe so," Airmid responded.
"Good," Ehlana swung onto her horse's back. "Because I need to speak with my friends."
Focused on her thoughts, she turned the steed's head back the way they came, and set off at a determined pace.