Firebird's Song: Book II of the Firebird Trilogy Chapter 23: Degrees of Black, a harry potter fanfic

A/N: Well, didn't think I'd be able to get this out this morning, but plans change, so here we go. A general response to reviews for both Chapter 22 and 23 are in my forums like normal. It was nice to see people are still reading. Thanks for your feedback!

Chapter Twenty-Three: Degrees of Black

No one spoke of what happened over the holidays, or commented on the way Hermione clung desperately to Harry's arm. She still looked thin and sallow, but her hair was clean and combed and her clothes washed and unwrinkled.

If she seemed less talkative and more subdued, it was no one else's business. Nor did anyone feel a need to comment on how protective Harry seemed of his second wife, holding her just as closely as she clung to him. Luna sat on his other side, her face calm but unsmiling. She spoke as little as Hermione. It made for a long, sombre ride back to Hogwarts for all their friends.

The only excitement was when Draco Malfoy walked to their cabin door with Pansy Parkinson on his arm. Harry looked and was not surprised at all to see the two bonded. "Congratulations, Draco," Harry said with narrowed eyes.

"You heard then," Draco said smugly. "I would say the same, but really, a proscribed girl and a Mudblood? Nonetheless, it looks like I will be joining you in the married wing this term. Not that you should be too concerned. I have a feeling you won't be staying much longer. Ta-ta!"

After he left, Neville said, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing good," Justine said. "When Draco Malfoy is happy, nothing good can come of it."

~~Firebird~~

Every student in the Great Hall was staring intently at the newest person at the staff table. The witch looked barely older than the students, and shone with health, beauty and magic. Blonde, dark eyed, and with a figure that made even Harry's throat dry, the newest Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor certainly made an impression on the students of Hogwarts.

Professor Dumbledore was making his traditional start of term remarks, when he finally finished with: "And I am most honoured to introduce Professor Narcissa Black, a wife of the esteemed Lucius Malfoy, as our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. You will all be relieved to know that I have received in writing confirmation from the Ministry of Magic that the mistakes that occurred last term will not be repeated. Please welcome Mrs Black."

"Narcissa Black?" Harry asked. He looked over to Luna. "Like in Sirius Black?"

"His first cousin," Luna said flatly. "And Draco's mother."

Harry looked across the great hall to where Draco sat with Pansy Parkinson on his arm. He was laughing at something Daphne Greengrass said. For her part, Daphne looked at Harry as well, one eye brow raised as if in challenge.

Harry looked away from her and back at the head table.

"This changes nothing," Harry said.

Across from him, Neville quirked a brow. "So we continue with the Army?"

"Yes."

~~Firebird~~

Draco and Pansy were given their own suite near the entrance of the married wing. Ordinarily this would not have elicited much comment, except that they displaced Angelina and Fred, who previously had that room and were forced into a shared suite with Georgina and Lee. Granted, neither couple complained given their unusual proclivities, but it made the placement obvious.

The young couple walked into the married wing like royalty—Pansy held his right arm lightly, sniffing at the mixed décor of the non-house aligned decorations. She and Malfoy stepped into their suite of rooms, which they did not have to share. They left the door intentionally open, and when Harry walked to the library that evening, he could see Pansy just inside at a sofa, watching him with a knowing smirk.

"They announced it in the Prophet," Neville said the next evening. "They bonded after Boxing Day, so they're still in their initial bonding period. It was a coup for Pansy and her Dame."

"They bonded to get into the married wing," Hermione said.

"Of course," Susan said from across Neville. The two families sat on matching couches in their mini-common room, doing their homework on a low table spread between then.

"So, what can we do to eliminate the problem?" Harry asked.

It turned out quite a lot. What the young couple of Slytherins did not realize was that every other couple in the married wing was smarter than they were. Thirty minutes into the third day in the library and Hermione pulled a list of twenty two separate illusions, glamour charms and shields that would prevent Draco and Pansy from seeing them come or go.

By the fourth day, she, Luna and Hannah carved runes into the frame of Malfoy's door that they could activate with a keyed rune-stone from anywhere in the wing, and then simply painted over them. Draco's constant, arrogant smirk became a joke in and of itself, since he had no idea just how ineffective his spying efforts were.

~~Firebird~~

Where Dolores Umbridge was a battle axe, Narcissa Black was a rapier. Instead of overwhelming blunt trauma, her attacks were precise and needle-thin.

She did no more to teach Defence than Umbridge or the interim Auror after Umbridge had been forced out. She sat at the front of the desk after telling the students which chapters to read, and then stared intently at one or the other. When she spoke, it was with an elegant, cultured contralto that made more than one of the boys in class sit up attentively. The greatest difference between her and Umbridge, though, was that Narcissa Black was beautiful.

Despite knowing she was the mother of a boy Harry genuinely despised, even he could not deny just how gorgeous the woman was. He found out from Seamus (who kept statistics on every witch in Hogwarts) that Narcissa Malfoy was thirty-two years old. Her son was sixteen as of December, which meant she was sixteen when he was born. She did not look a day over twenty, and was more youthful in appearance than some seventh years. She had a large bust which her expertly tailored professor's robes clung to, and womanly hips that no female student could compete with. She was a woman in a school of little girls, and there wasn't a single male student who did not notice and appreciate it.

Most interesting to watch were how the witches responded to her. When Narcissa walked down the halls with a handful of wizards waiting on her every whim, the Muggleborn and half-blood witches glared with almost palpable hate, while many of the pureblooded witches looked on with worship in their eyes.

Harry received his first detention from Narcissa at the end of January, and honestly he was surprised it took as long as that. He went in wand-ready, expecting any number of potential situations. Instead, Narcissa Black waved him in and told him to sit. "You are to write lines tonight, Mr Potter," she said coolly. "You may use your own quills, of course."

Harry tried to hide a sigh of relief. "And what shall I write, Professor?"

"You shall write 'Blood is thicker than water' five hundred times," she said.

Harry removed a roll of parchment and started writing. He had learned from the past five years of detentions not to try and race through a large number of lines—his hand would cramp after the first hundred if he did. He wrote in a steady scratch on the parchment.

Behind the desk, Narcissa leaned casually in her chair. He tried not to look at her, since she had her robe open and her blouse was a thin, sheer silk. "Do you know what that means, Mr Potter," she asked after a few minutes of only his scratching on parchment.

"I assume it is a reference to blood purity, Professor," Harry said carefully.

"Posh," Narcissa said. She stood abruptly and pulled her robe off entirely, revealing a sheer blouse and a very short skirt that clung tightly to her hips and thighs. "It refers to family, Mr Potter. For instance, were you aware that I am your second cousin?"

Harry looked up in surprise, only to find himself staring into her dark blue eyes. The Legilimency attack was so powerful and fast he barely had time to breathe. She swept past his barriers and into his recent memories, but those were strictly over his anguish about Hermione and Luna. Before she could pull specifics of where, or with whom, he pushed her out and assembled his barriers at full strength.

"Very good, Harry," she purred, not at all disappointed. "You're as strong as Lily was. I wish I had been older—I have no doubt she would have made a delicious lover."

Nestled as his consciousness was within his Occlumency barriers, Harry let the remark slide by. "I wouldn't know," he said.

Narcissa smiled sweetly at him. "I'm sorry to hear of the difficulties you've had in your marriage," she continued in a saccharine tone. "There were rumours of course. I believe the Longbottom and Lloyd Covens mentioned something about it. It is always a great adjustment for mud – excuse me, Muggleborn witches, to adjust to our way of life. They often do not understand the intricacies and politics required to function within a polygamous marriage. I do not think any less of them; it is simply a matter of ignorance and upbringing that is difficult to compensate for. Whatever I may think of Mrs Potter, from what I saw of your memories she handled it appropriately as a pureblood should. Perhaps the Covens were too hasty in their judgment of her."

She stood and walked back to her desk, her hips swaying dangerously. "Tell me, Harry, did you know that the potion that made Ms Lovegood barren could be reversed?"

"It is my understanding the covens burned away her Fallopian tubes," Harry said. He concentrated on continuing his lines. So far, this meeting had been far more dangerous than anything Umbridge did.

"Mr Potter, Madam Pomfrey can regrow your bones with a potion. Don't you think we could regrow fallopian tubes?"

"I never gave it much though, Professor," Harry admitted. "Luna is very intelligent, and I'm sure if it were possible she would know."

"She's fourteen, Mr Potter," Narcissa said with a dry laugh. "She could be the most intelligent witch in the world and still know only a fraction of what is out there. I know witches who have studied for centuries. What could your First Wife know after only four years of study? Do you think at that age she is equipped to know everything?"

"No, Professor," Harry said, struggling to keep his attention on his lines. He could feel her eyes boring into him.

"You've not been treated well in the magical world, have you, Mr Potter?"

"Opinions vary, Professor."

Even her laugh sounded beautiful. "Indeed, I wager they do. Let me give you some insight, then. I am not the Dame of my family—that would be my sister wife Elezeta. Most would account me an attractive witch, and I could easily have been a first wife if I wanted. However, it is better to be a second wife with a powerful wizard than the first wife of a half-blood, like your cousin Andromeda. Moreover, I delivered to my husband a son, giving me great honour and esteem even from Elezeta. The Malfoy coven has been assured continuation. But you, Mr Potter, you are in an interesting position."

She stood again, once more coming around before leaning on the desk, her arms crossed under her sizable bust and her long legs crossed delicately. "Everyone knows you could someday found your own coven. You could be an Elder of the Wizengamot, your first wife a Dame in her own right. You would have wealth and power and bring great honour to your family name, except for Ms Granger."

Harry's hand shook and he had to stop writing.

"You see, Harry," Narcissa continued, leaning forward enough that her blouse hung low, giving Harry an unintentional glimpse of the pale treasures within. "The Covens cannot allow a witch into the Sabbat who does not have the proper upbringing or experience to understand the traditions and necessities of our way life. While your first wife was unexpected and, to be honest, unwanted, nonetheless she is a Pureblood witch and has already demonstrated a willingness to allow for additional wives. Given the proof that she is compliant and, from what I just saw, knowledgeable in our ways, we could find our way to welcome her back into the full fold of the magical community. We could even heal her so that she could bear children. But we cannot risk a Muggleborn as a second wife—it would place her far too close to power she is not qualified or equipped to handle, and we all know that sometimes accidents happen to first wives. The Sabbat does occasionally make mistakes, and insisting on your second bonding without giving you an alternative to Granger was such a one."

Struggling to maintain his calm, Harry said, "What are you suggesting, Professor?"

She leaned forward further, and if by magic a button of her blouse came undone, revealing the expansive, creamy white curves of her breasts. She ran a long finger nail across his cheek to his ear, where she pulled a stray strand of his hair back behind his eyes. "I'm suggesting you could do better," she said in a breathy voice. "Nor would it have to be with an older witch, though I hope, as you can see, that having an older witch is not always a bad thing."

Not trusting himself to speak, Harry shook his head.

Narcissa looked down at her own blouse before looking back up at Harry. "You've never seen a real woman's bosom, have you, Harry? You're no blushing virgin, not anymore, but you've had only children in your bed. Never a real woman ... There are real women, Harry, who could make your every fantasy come true. Women who could make you pass out from pleasure and cry with ecstasy. And it would not just have to be bond-mates. Bonding does not require fidelity, Harry. I, for instance, could ravish you right now and my dear husband would never know. Would you like that, Harry? To be ravished by a real woman?"

Another button came undone. Harry was trembling with a near physical need to bury his face in her massive cleavage. The pull was so strong it was making the muscles of his stomach ache with it. Instead, he sank lower into his Occlumency barriers, thanking his Mother's memory for writing her book.

"You are a beautiful woman, Professor," Harry said with forced care, "but I respect and care for my wives, and I do not wish to betray them."

Narcissa pouted playfully. "An honourable young man," she said, once again pulling a strand of hair back. "My son shows no such restraint when an older, bonded witch offered to teach him the art of lovemaking. It made him a much better lover for his young bride. It is a shame you were not given such an opportunity."

She walked back around her desk, and by the time she was seated her blouse was buttoned up. "Think about what I have said, Mr Potter. Bonds can be broken. Miss Granger would have her magic bound and stilled, but she could still have a long and fruitful life among the Muggles, where she belongs. If you were to replace her with a true witch, say like Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, Blaise Zabini or Appollonia Sparks, why, the covens would have no reason to fear you, would they? After all, you would have two pureblood wives. Imagine—a whole, fertile Luna, freedom from further scrutiny from the Covens —much could be accomplished with a true witch as a wife."

Harry was no longer pacing himself—he was writing furiously and fast to finish his lines. It took every ounce of occluded self-control to say, "Thank you for the advice, Professor. I'll certainly think about it."

"That's all I can ask."

"I'm done with my lines."

"Really?" She quirked one elegant blonde brow and accepted the parchment. "You did indeed. I would suggest, Mr Potter, that when you have a chance you study your genealogy. You have more family than you may be aware of. For in this world, Blood truly is all that matters."

Harry thanked her and fled from the room, trying to control his shaking.

~~Firebird~~

That night, alone in their room on their bed, Hermione chewed viciously on a strand of hair and said, "Luna?"

Harry stared at both his wives in concern; Hermione because she was so obviously scared that Luna would accept Narcissa's suggestions, and at Luna because she actually did seem to be considering it.

"No," Harry finally said. "No, I will never, ever allow someone to be stilled because of me."

"It's not your choice, Harry," Luna said softly.

"I will make it my choice," Harry said firmly. Since Christmas, he'd noticed how firm Luna had been acting toward Hermione, and how Hermione had not protested it at all. It was as if the two fought a war, and Hermione lost badly. "I would never forgive you if you tried to do something like that."

Luna's eyes grew misty. "She said I could have children, Harry."

"At the expense of Hermione's magic, and maybe her life!" Harry said. "Our children would be tainted. I don't want to raise children under something like that."

"Luna," Hermione said, "Think about what we're planning. If we're successful, and if such a potion or treatment exists, we won't need the Sabbat to give it to us. We'll take it.'

Luna looked down at her bare feet—they were not yet dressed for bed (or undressed in Luna's case). Quietly she reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek. "It was very cruel, what Professor Black did to us."

"She's Draco's mother," Harry said. "What can we expect?"

Hesitantly, Hermione scooted over and placed an arm around Luna's shoulders. Without hesitation, Luna leaned against the older girl. "I couldn't do it anyway," Luna finally said. "I guess I'm just not pureblood enough. I couldn't do that to you."

Hermione said nothing.

"It's a shame, really," Luna continued. "Daphne is a Black."

Harry blinked in confusion. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Luna climbed off the bed, stepped to her wardrobe and returned a moment later with a massive tome clad in thick red leather. She opened it to a book-marked page that showed a huge family tree labelled The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. "I took this from the Black Family Library when I noticed a Potter on their family tapestry."

She opened the book toward the end and started tracing lines. "You and Narcissa share common great grandparents in Cygnus and Violetta Black. The current Elder of the coven is Alphard, who was born to Pollux and his second wife Adela. Sirius Black is descended from Pollux and his first wife Irma. Alphard married Marchetta and Dulcetta, but both were barren. Upon Dulcetta's death he took Cassandra as his second wife—he was sixty at the time and I believe Cassandra was still in her teens. She was assigned to him by her Dame. Though she did not give him a son, she did bear him two daughters—Daphne and Astoria. Unfortunately, Alphard was sickened by dragon pox and is unable to bond any further. Any children they bear would be direct issue from Alphard, and if one is a boy, then the Black Coven would be able to continue. If such an issue were from you as well, Harry, it could conceivably put your son in charge of a dark, traditionalist coven."

"Wait," Hermione said. "Luna, wouldn't that make Harry cousins with the Greengrass sisters as well?"

"Yes. Second cousins, in fact, since they share common great grandparents."

"Luna, that's gross," Hermione said.

"Charles Darwin and his wife Emma were first cousins," Luna pointed out. Hermione blinked, not by the news, but that Luna would even know who Darwin was.

"Luna, this is all pointless," Harry said. "We know who will be in our family. We've both had visions of it. You, Hermione, and Justine, and…."

"And a witch whose bonding would end in blood," Luna said.

"That doesn't sound encouraging at all," Hermione said. "Why go through with it if you know it's going to result in bloodshed?"

"They said I could be made fertile again," Luna whispered, obviously awestruck at the very idea.

Hermione chewed a few stray strands of her hair as she studied the book. "Luna," she said at last, "the spousal order of precedence can be established by contract, can't it? Didn't Sybil tell us that was the fiction Dame Delia used to allow Harry's father to bond a Muggleborn?"

Luna did not look up from the book, but she did nod.

"Harry and I were not married by contract," Hermione continued.

Luna nodded again.

Harry stared at the girls in concern. "Where are you two going with this?"

"Harry," Hermione said, finally removing the hair from her mouth, "think about this for a moment. What if…just what if Narcissa were telling the truth? What if the Covens really would relax their scrutiny if there was no risk of me actually becoming Dame?"

"But what about Justine? We've pretty much promised her, Hermione. And…wait what about you? There's no way I'm going to let anyone just still your magic. Never!"

Luna finally looked up, her serene smile back on her face. "Harry, you don't understand. We're not talking about replacing Hermione with a Greengrass witch. We're talking about adding a Greengrass to be one of the four, with a contract to be elder to Hermione."

Harry's stomach dropped. "But … Greengrass? I hate her, she's a miserable person."

"Harry, think about this…" Hermione began.

"I don't want to think about it. I don't want Daphne Greengrass. I don't even really want three wives. Justine is nice enough, but I really just want you two. Can't I just have you two?"

Luna and Hermione shared a long look, before each of them reached over and took one of his hands. "Harry," Luna said, "what is it we are trying to accomplish?"

"I know what we're trying to accomplish, but it's wrong to be talking marriage for politics."

Luna laughed without humour. "Harry, I gave you my virginity at fourteen for politics. We are married solely because of politics. Hermione is bonded to you because of politics. This shows the Sabbat is rethinking their approach to you. They must realize you are still too powerful, and that bonding Hermione has done nothing to reduce you. Marriage in our world is all about politics—even your own mother bonded your father for political reasons. You don't have to love Daphne, or even like her. But if bonding with them will buy us the time and space we need to form a coven, then by Magic Itself you will bond them, and so will I. Even if you never touch them again in your life, you will bond them because doing so may very well mean the difference between success, and all our deaths. And…" Her voice broke. "And the possibility of my giving you a child someday."

Harry stared at his first wife in shock, never having heard her voice her desire for children. "Luna, I…"

"I have to bond with them too, Harry," she reminded him. "Not only do I have to watch my husband make love to another woman, I have to make love to her as well. But just like I gave myself to a boy I'd never met, I'll give myself to these girls because it will work."

"How can we know for sure, though?" Harry asked.

"Simple," Hermione asked. "Use your divination on them."

Harry stared at first her, then Luna. "You both hate me, don't you?"

"No, Harry," Luna said. "I love you. I love you so much I'm willing to share you and myself to make sure you win."

Author's Note: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading. If there are any major faux-pas, they are entirely of my own doing.