A/N: Chap 25 Review responses are in my forums like normal.
Chapter Twenty-Six: Negotiations
Detentions made meetings of the Firebird Army difficult, but not impossible. Harry made sure to finish whatever task Snape set as quickly as possible, and the Potions Master, perhaps sensing Harry's urgency, did not complain if he managed to finish the tasks early. In fact, during his second week of detentions, Harry noticed how the tasks assigned grew easier and quicker with each day.
Snape, of course, would deny everything and acted just as surly and unpleasant as always. However, by setting Harry to easier tasks, he allowed the boy to finish sooner and get to the seventh floor where he led the other students in preparing for the Defence O.W.L.s.
Over the weeks that followed, though, the Firebird Army sessions shifted to more than just Defence. Given the fact that the students were so motivated by the blatant attempt to sink their O.W.L. chances, they actually finished the fifth year curriculum ahead of schedule, and instead worked on Charms, Transfigurations and even Potions. The Come and Go Room adjusted to their needs regardless of what those needs might be.
Luna especially benefited from this extra tuition and took full advantage of the opportunities, confessing a desire to take her O.W.L.s over the summer in an effort to catch up with Harry and Hermione. Harry, for his part, fully believed she could do it.
The rest of the school—those not in the Army—treated Harry like a dangerous, curious object. The attack on Draco not only made the rumour mill, but actually made the Daily Prophet. Also included in the article was the payment of Wergild, something that was rare in cases where no one actually died. The Prophet, while painting Harry as an unstable prophet and seer, at the same time lauded the payment as proof of his sincere regret for the attack.
Harry and his fledgling family did their best to get back to their lives. They studied, ate and slept, and still occasionally fought. However, the spats between Hermione and Luna never elevated to the levels reached before they resorted to love potions, and if Justine happened to be there, she as much as Harry worked as a mediator to resolve as much of the pressure as possible.
Some anxiety, though, was unavoidable. They were all waiting, with sometimes unbearable tension, for word from Dame Branwenna regarding the negotiations. So, desperate to keep their minds off that task, they continued their studies as best they could as the days rolled into weeks into months.
It wasn't until the first week of April that a huge eagle owl swept into the Great Hall during dinner and landed with a loud thump at the Gryffindor table right in front of Luna. Luna glanced at Harry, Hermione and Justine before taking the thick parchment envelope in its claw. The bird took off before anyone could feed it.
The envelope bore the nineteen star circle of the Sabbat in a seal of black wax. Glancing across the hall, Harry could see Daphne watching them with a smirk.
Luna broke the seal, opened the letter with shaking hands, and read. "I've been summoned," she whispered.
"Just you?" Harry asked.
"Me and my Dame," Luna said. "They addressed the summons to the First Wife of the Potter family and the Dame of our coven. Oh Morgana, these are the same women who ordered my mummy killed, and now they want to see me."
Harry placed an arm around her shoulders, while Hermione gently rubbed her back. "We can't come?" Hermione asked.
Luna shook her head. "Only me and Dame Branwenna."
"At least it's warming up," Hermione said. "The supplicants' dress is not very warm at all."
Harry kissed his first wife's cheek and said, "You can do it, Luna. I know you think you're not brave, but that's not true. Only the most courageous witch in the world could come into a purely Muggle neighbourhood alone to bond and marry a boy she'd never even met. You're the bravest witch I know, and I know you can do this."
With a deep, shuddering breath she nodded, and then kissed him so deeply that conversation around the table slowly faded into silence. When she parted, she said, "I do love you, Harry."
"And I love you, Luna. No matter what happens, you will always be my First Wife."
~~Firebird~~
~~Firebird~~
The night of her summons, Luna emerged from the bathroom clad in a simple white gown that hung to her knees. From the points of her nipples at her chest, Harry saw quickly that she wore nothing under the gown at all.
The room was crowded with Harry, Hermione and Justine. The three other girls looked at Luna's hair and decided that something needed to be done. So, while Harry held her hand, Justine and Hermione braided Luna's normally wild and stringy blonde hair into a thick, single braid down her back. According to the traditions they found in their Witch's Health books and Hermione and Justine's own recent experience, female supplicants to the Sabbat were to appear in a single garment without any ornamentation of any kind.
Instead, they used a mild sticking charm to secure the end of the braid before all of them came to sit around Harry at the knees of the first wife. Luna's face was utterly devoid of any sign of emotion.
"I wish I could make love to you now, Harry," she finally whispered. "But I know that would not be a good idea."
Instead, Harry pulled her onto his lap and pushed his magic into her, filling her just as her own magic filled him. After a minute, she kissed him tenderly, before doing the same thing to the other two girls in the room.
They walked with her from the married wing, pausing only long enough to magically seal Malfoy's door so he couldn't bother them. Outside the portrait that guarded the wing stood Professor McGonagall clad in her hooded robe of a Dame. Though she was no longer First Dame, she retained her place on the Sabbat since Dumbledore's coven still continued, at least until his death.
McGonagall said nothing as she led them to the headmaster's office. Dumbledore stood in his Wizengamot Robes, since like Minerva he lost his position as Chief Warlock but remained an Elder of the body, and beside him stood Dame Branwenna.
When they arrived, Branwenna made a point of taking Luna's shoulders and looking her over. "I don't care what you may have heard, child," the old witch said, "You are a vision. Mr Potter is lucky to have you."
"I really am," Harry said quickly.
Luna smiled weakly at him and clung to his hand.
"Are you ready, lass?"
"Are they going to kill me?" Luna asked pointedly.
Branwenna pursed her lips. "The Sabbat has been jumping oddly in the past few years, but I do not believe you have to worry about that. Professor Black learned of an episode that occurred during the holiday and more importantly how you handled it." She looked at Hermione with a flat stare, and Hermione looked down at her toes. "I take it your sister wife has learned her lesson?"
"She has, Dame," Luna said. Hermione nodded fervently without meeting the ancient witch's eyes.
Branwenna nodded. "In a fashion, it is a good thing it happened, because it has shown the Sabbat that despite your proscribed status, you are still a pureblood witch capable of acting in line with propriety and tradition. So, we're off. Do not wait for us—this may take the whole night."
She led Luna to the fireplace, and in a billow of green flame, they were gone.
"Professor," Harry said, "I don't suppose you have any firewhiskey, do you, because right now I need a drink."
"Potter!" McGonagall said, aghast.
She turned in shock, though, when Dumbledore said "And excellent idea, Mr Potter. I think I shall join you. Ladies, do you care to partake?"
"Albus, they're underage!"
"Minerva, I remember quite clearly finding you passed out on the Astronomy tower your fifth year after your O.W.L.s," the old wizard said with a chuckle. "There are times for rules, and there are times for coping. Right now, we must cope, because not even I can predict what will happen."
McGonagall shook her head. "Well, on your heads be it. I am needed at the Sabbat. Good night!"
When she was gone, Dumbledore laughed softly before removing a large decanter of flaming liquid. "Now, who wishes to join me?"
~~Firebird~~
~~Firebird~~
As midnight rang from the church clock tower in St. Buryan, a sudden blue fire burst to life in the centre of a ring of nineteen stones in Cornwall. Moments after the fire, dark-clad figures appeared in front of each stone. Two larger stones standing at a distance also had figures appear, though they stayed at that distance from the circle of nineteen stones and nineteen figures.
Each figure turned and tapped a wand against the stone, causing the stone to flash with white light. The figure at the north stone stepped toward the blue flame and in a voice that rang over the field, said, "The stones are wakened, the wards are set. The Sabbat is called. Let the Sabbat begin."
"A supplicant comes at our summons," the new First Dame intoned. The speaker was Augusta Longbottom, the third First Dame in the past year. After Minerva stepped down, Dame Delia managed the position briefly until the debacle with Umbridge, which saw her step down to be replaced by one of the few neutral, traditionalist Dames.
The eyes of the witches turned and saw the pale, white-gowned figure lying prostrate on the grass at the edge of the wards. She had been there before the witches actually appeared, and in fact had been for several hours under a Muggle-repelling ward. As a proscribed witch, Luna had no right to speak at all, and could only pray to come before them in a ritual of atonement that involved her remaining face-first in the grass for hours.
"The supplicant is a witch proscribed by this very body for the crimes of her mother," Dame Augusta said in a strong voice. "She has been summoned in response to a petition made and wishes to stand before us. Do any here wish to speak for her?"
Branwenna stepped forward and removed the hood of her cloak. "The Lloyd Coven speaks for the child. She is the First Wife of Harry Potter, a wizard of our coven, and despite her proscribed status has fulfilled the duties of her role well, especially in consideration of her age and status."
"Then let the supplicant come forward," August said.
The ward before Luna shimmered. The girl slowly climbed to her feet, obviously stiff. Her gown clung wetly to her body from the grass, outlining not only her breasts, but also her ribs and the lines of her hips. Blinking back exhaustion and stiffness, she walked to the centre of the Sabbat and performed a perfect curtsey. "As summoned, so I appear," she said. Her voice sounded very young, and everyone could hear the fear in her tone.
"The Sabbat has heard your prayer to have your womanhood restored," Augusta said. "Before we address this prayer, the circle has a question for you, child. What possessed you to seek out and bond with Harry Potter? You had never even met him."
Luna rubbed her eyes, clearly exhausted, and struggled to answer. Finally, she said, "A vision, First Dame."
"A vision?"
"Yes, First Dame. I had a vision of Harry loving me as a woman. It was not a dream—I felt pain from the vision, and had a bloody nose after, so I knew it was a true message from the Gods. I do not remember the bonding, as much as I wish I did, but I do know since that time our bonding has been one of genuine love. I love Harry very much, and he loves me. I want to be able to give him a child more than anything. I would do nearly anything to have that chance to be a true wife for him."
Another witch stepped forward and removed her cowl to show the brown hair and gleaming eyes of Dame Delia. "Tell us of what occurred this holiday, child."
Luna considered what to say. "Harry's magical guardian informed us that Sirius Black left the Black house to Harry despite…despite trying to kill him Third Year. Given we had no other home and as we did not wish to be a burden to the Lloyd Coven, we spent our holiday there with our friends. During this time, my sister wife…" She stopped and swallowed. "I apologize. It is painful to speak of."
"Do so regardless," Delia said without any mercy.
"Hermione brought another woman to Harry's bed, believing she would be a suitable third wife."
No one spoke or whispered—the Sabbat already knew what happened.
"We knew that Harry would have to bond again, since he is really quite powerful, but as a Muggleborn, Hermione did not understand the depth of her mistake. I asked for a circle of my friends and prayed for the Isolation Curse as punishment. Most of you may not realize it, but the curse is much worse for Muggleborns precisely because of their earlier isolation. Hermione suffered greatly under the curse; she lost a full stone and became quite ill. After, she vowed to never make such a mistake again, and has since then adhered to the rules I've set as First Wife."
Delia stepped back.
"It is a hard thing to have to punish a sister wife," Augusta Longbottom said. "It takes strength of will and a determination to adhere to proper tradition, and it is a testament to you, child, that you did so at such a young age. However, that alone is not enough to convince this body to reverse a proscribed status. The purpose of the Proscription was not to punish you, per se, but to ensure the end of your family line."
To have it so plainly stated made Luna tremble with pent up emotions. Still, struggling to remain calm, she said, "I am a Potter by marriage, and a Lloyd by coven affiliation. Any children I would bear would not be Lovegoods, but rather Potters. I…" She swallowed. "I would forsake my mother's name if it meant giving my husband a child."
That did cause a few murmurs from around the circle.
"A strong statement," Augusta said approvingly. "But there is another concern, child, which this circle cannot ignore. Harry Potter's second wife is a Muggleborn. If at fifteen he is able to take a third wife, then it speaks of the real possibility that he may someday require a fourth to bring his magic down to an acceptable level. If this occurs, a new coven would form. However, we will not tolerate a Muggleborn in this circle. The traditions of the Sabbat are sacred, timeless and ancient. No Muggleborn can ever understand the true meaning of being a Dame, and would sully the circle beyond tolerance, and your sister wife's involvement with a Muggle witchhunter this summer speaks eloquently of our concerns. The Sabbat rarely admits to making mistakes, but we fully admit that our decision to require the Muggleborn to bond Harry was done in haste and without full consideration of the future. We might be amenable to your prayer, child, but not while there is any possibility that Hermione Granger could assume position of First Wife if anything were to happen to you."
Luna clasped her hands together tightly. "We…I have considered this, First Dame. A witch of high standing told us something similar. While it is my decision, as I have said, my bond with Harry is one of love, and so I discussed this with him. My sister wife…we love her as well. As difficult as she can be, there is great affection between her and my husband, and at times between myself as well. We do not wish to have her stilled and her bond broken. Since there is to be a third wife…we wish to ask this body, if a witch acceptable to this circle could be named by contract as second wife? Hermione bonded without contract or standing, and so such a contract would take precedence over the order of bonding."
"As Dame of Potter's coven and at the request of his First Wife," Dame Branwenna said, "know that I have entered contract negotiations with Cassandra Greengrass, the Proxy Dame of the Black Coven, for a daughter of the Greengrass Family to serve as Harry Potter's second wife, with all duties and obligations therefore. The negotiations are complete and require only the blessing of this circle."
"I was not aware of this," Dame Augusta said, not bothering to hide her surprise. "Tell me, child, why the Greengrasses? There are many Pureblood witches of standing who would accept such a position from Covens more aligned with the Lloyds."
The other witches could almost see Luna shaking. "I would do….I would do anything to bear my husband a child," she said little more than a whisper. If not for the magic of the stones they would not have heard her at all. "It was…suggested my prayer would be given greater heed if we were to take a Greengrass witch to Harry's bed as second wife. I know…it was suggested that Hermione's bond be broken, but it is my hope and prayer that the negotiated contract would be sufficient to spare my beloved sister wife."
Dame Cassandra Greengrass stepped forward. She was a younger witch than most in the circle, barely out of her thirties. When she removed her cowl Luna saw that her hair was as blonde as Daphne's, with a similar cast to her coldly beautiful face. "My eldest daughter Daphne has indicated her willingness to bond with Potter," she said in a voice that seemed harsh compared to her beauty—it was an ugly sound, in fact. "In return for the hand of my daughter as second wife, the House of Greengrass is prepared to offer a dowry of three thousand galleons to House Potter. Additionally, any child born of such a union will be Black by name, as my daughters are direct issue of Alphard Black, Elder of the Black Coven and direct issue himself of the coven founder."
"As agreed to in the contract," Branwenna confirmed.
"Are there any other terms to hear?" Augusta said. "No? Then let us vote on the prayer of Luna Potter to be restored in consideration of the pending Greengrass-Potter bonding."
When the circle voted, Luna lost what strength she had and collapsed to the grass at the centre of the Circle, weeping. Augusta flourished her wand, conjuring a parchment from the air using the magic of the circle. "Let it be known that on this day, it is the determination of the Sabbat that Luna Potter, previously Luna No Name, having forsaken the name of her previous family, is to be restored as a witch of standing to the Sabbat with the following condition: that as First Wife she takes to her husband's bed and marriage a daughter of House Greengrass, to be placed as second wife above any others save she herself, and that any children born of his issue are to be Blacks by blood and magic. Do you, Luna Potter, previously Luna No Name, agree to these terms?"
In a tear-struck voice, Luna said, "I do. I, Luna, daughter of Selene and Xenophilius Lovegood, forsake my name and family forevermore. I will henceforth be only Luna Potter. I also swear to abide by the terms of the marriage contract between my Dame and House Greengrass, and will take a daughter of House Greengrass to be my husband's second wife above all others save myself. On my magic I say this, so mote it be."
"The terms are set and accepted," Augusta said. "Dames of the Lloyd and Black Covens, when is the contract to go into effect?"
"One week hence," Dame Cassandra said.
"Agreed," Branwenna said.
Augusta nodded, pointed her wand to the parchment, and with another flourish it disappeared. "The dictates of the Circle have been made known to the Wizengamot and Ministry," she said. "Dame Carolyn, do you possess the Wand of Freyja?"
"I do, First Dame," the other witch said. Luna's eyes bulged as the witch removed from her robes not a wand, but a huge wooden phallus that looked big enough to make a horse hurt.
"The magic we do to restore you is not without a price, child," Augusta said, for the first time showing sympathy. "It is an ancient spell of fertility reaching back to the Volva of old, whose traditions and teachings to the Great Rowena gave rise to wanded magic as we know it. It will hurt."
Whimpering a little, Luna nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
"Then remove your gown, child, and lay on the ground with your legs apart," Augusta said. "Dame Graham, as is the right of your Coven who wields the wand, you may cast the spell."
Luna tried her very best not to scream when it began, but despite that she lasted not even a minute.
~~Firebird~~
~~Firebird~~
Harry shot up with a cry. Hermione, curled up by his side as she was, shot out of bed in alarm. "What, what?" she cried, looking for a threat that wasn't there. She grabbed her wand and lit the lamps in the walls with a flick before turning to Harry. "What was it?"
She saw a trickle of blood from his nose. "A vision?"
"Luna," Harry said hoarsely. "I need to go to the hospital wing."
"Harry, it's…" She looked at the clock on her side of the bed. "Merlin, Harry, it's almost four in the morning. You'll be caught."
He climbed out of bed, unheeding of his nudity given her similar state. "I don't care, I have to go. She needs me." He stopped and glanced back at her. "She needs us both."
Hermione stared at him for a moment, caught in the power and gravity of his gaze, before nodding. "Okay, Harry. Let's at least get dressed, though."
Once they threw robes and shoes on, the two donned his invisibility cloak and made their way out of the married wing of the castle toward the hospital wing. They were still outside when they first heard the cry. Harry pulled the cloak off them, stuffed it into his pocket, and ran with Hermione a step behind him.
They arrived at the hospital wing and saw Pomfrey, Snape, Dumbledore and McGonagall surrounding a bed in the far corner of the girl's wing. Even from where he stood, Harry could see blood on Pomfrey's hands.
"No." Harry moaned at the sight and sprinted toward the circle of professors. Snape must have heard him because he looked up at the charging student in surprise. "Potter! What are you doing here?"
"Let me see her!" Harry demanded.
"Get him out of here!" McGonagall said. "He doesn't need to see this."
"No, Minerva, he does," Albus contradicted. "In fact, I daresay our patient needs him here."
At the headmaster's words, Pomfrey stepped out of the way, giving Harry his first glimpse of his first wife.
He paused, mid-step, and bent over as if struck. Blood was everywhere, spread over the white sheets of the bed, and to his undying horror, he could clearly see it coming from between his wife's legs.
Luna herself was terribly, deathly pale, and her magic looked weak and almost completely depleted. "What happened?" he said, his voice thick with the horror of what he was seeing.
"She was made whole," McGonagall said grimly. "But the wand was too big and tore her vulva badly. Dame Carolyn was…" Harry turned to her when he heard the rage in her voice. "My fellow Dame was needlessly cruel and rough with the instrument of healing. In addition, the spell itself exacts a terrible price on her body. Though Luna was sexually active as your spouse, the potion they used stilled her sexual development. She has just gone through four years of menstrual bleeding. Combined with the tear, it resulted in dreadful blood loss."
"Why couldn't you just heal her?" Hermione asked from behind Harry.
"Any spell cast on her would undo the Sabbat's actions," Pomfrey snapped, obviously distressed to be rendered useless. "They would not do that for her again."
Harry, though, didn't bother listening to Pomfrey. He was staring intently at his First Wife's bloodied vagina not with the eyes of a distraught husband, but of a tactile Aether. While the others spoke over his head, he gently reached out and touched her skin, feeling the clamminess of it against his fingers, and the constant flow of magic from her struggling core to help the healing. It was a misunderstanding on the part of most witches and wizards that potions did all the work in healing.
Most potions just directed or increased the power of a witch or wizard's own magic to heal themselves. In Luna's case, though, her body had been violated in the very act of healing her. He could see the fiery red magic in her womb, rebuilding her fallopian tubes with a gentle and incredibly fragile net of magic. If Pomfrey were to use any potion, or spell any magic, that potion or magic would disrupt the web that was restoring Luna's fertility.
But maybe he could use his magic to heal her, rather than just hers? He placed his hand flat on the rise of her pelvis, feeling the short, fine blonde hair there. "Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione said, almost shrieking.
Harry shook his head, hoping she'd understand, as he reached up with his other hand and started gently weaving his own magic from the hand on his wife into her torn and violated flesh. In many ways, it reminded him of how he wove Voldemort's ghost into the body of Barty Crouch Junior.
"Mr Potter, is that…appropriate?" McGonagall said. From her perspective, Potter was simply running his fingers back and forth over his wife's bloodied sex.
From Pomfrey's perspective, it looked almost as if Harry were sewing a wound shut. She touched her wand to her eyes to cast a visual diagnostic charm and sucked in a stunned breath at what she saw.
"What is it, Poppy?" Dumbledore said.
"I don't understand," the Mediwitch said. "He's somehow…sewing his own magic into her, anchoring his magic within her body."
"For what purpose?" McGonagall said.
"He's…he's healing her," Pomfrey admitted. "I can't give her anything because her own magic is caught up with what the Sabbat did, so he's using his own magic to heal her."
Nor was it without effort—Harry was sweating and trembling slightly when he finally leaned back. He looked down at his bloodied hands with a frown and looked at Hermione for help. She cast cleansing charms and he smiled his thanks.
"I think she's okay now," he said. "Madam Pomfrey, could you check?"
She did so with a sweep of her wand and nodded. "She has been healed, and there has been no impact on the restoration spell, which is nearing completion."
Twenty minutes later, Pomfrey handed him two phials of blood replenishment potions. "The restoration is complete, Mr Potter. Now, your wife needs to take these."
Harry took them in his hands without hesitation, popped both phials open, and with Hermione holding Luna's head, put the first to her lips. Luna's eyes flickered open briefly as she took the first potion. He had the second to her lips before she could speak. Only when both were down did she smile at him.
"I felt you," she whispered. "You were so warm."
"You called me, in my vision," Harry said. "Just like before. I'll always come when you call, Luna. Always."
Luna turned tiredly at Hermione. "You came too?"
"Always," Hermione said with a sniff.
Luna stared up at the ceiling. "They said yes, Harry. I'm a woman now; I'm whole."
"You've always been a woman to me," he said, weeping unabashedly.
"Yes, but now, someday when we're ready, I'll prove it. Someday, Harry, I'm going to give you a baby."
Harry sobbed and held her hands to his lips. "I love you so much, Luna."
"Good," she whispered before slipping off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
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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. Also, a note on the Wand of Freyja-did anyone remember the foreshadowing of this scene?