Warnings: M/M/M relationship; mentions of rape, abuse, and everything that goes with that, but not graphically; mpreg warning as well; creature!fic.
Disclaimer: None of my work belongs to me, it is solely the property of the one and only J.K. Rowling and any other company which has the copyright of Harry Potter, including Warner Bros. Nothing here belongs to me; all the characters are J.K. Rowling's originally, though any new character not part of the Harry Potter series belongs to me.
Title: I stand for freedom
Author: hpjkrowling4ever
Chapter One
The old, tumbledown building in front of him had been an accidental find. He had been wandering through Diagon Alley after a long day traipsing around the Ministry. Some might have said he was looking for a purpose. The building was leaning slightly to the side, as if the builder had been working in diagonals rather than straight lines when he had built it. It was down a side street near Flourish and Blotts which he had wandered down to avoid the mid-afternoon crowds in Diagon. He scanned the building, seeing if there was any reason why an unknown building might appear out of nowhere. It was thrumming with magic, but he could discern no malevolent intent to it.
After the War, Harry had tried to do many things, but he had found that following his adventure in the Forest, his magic no longer responded to him as it used to. It was wilder, more alive, less happy with blindly obeying what Harry wanted it to do. However, it also fed back impressions of other magic to Harry. Here, it told Harry that there was nothing wrong with the building: the magic surrounding it was calm. As Harry absorbed that information, a sign appeared, once again out of nowhere. "For those who need help", it said.
Taking a leap of faith, Harry walked up to the wooden door. After knocking and receiving no reply, he pushed it gently. The door opened, revealing a room filled with a hushed, almost reverential silence. There was nothing particularly special about the room: it was bright, with various paintings – some still, some moving – around the walls, which were a dark wood. There was a door to his right, one to his left, and in the middle of the hall, a desk, where a young girl, no older than seven, was sitting on a stool, with no adult in sight. She had long black hair and was smiling happily at him as he approached. He could see a puzzle in front of her on the desk.
"Hi," Harry whispered, for some reason reluctant to disturb the silence. The girl giggled, her laughter loud in the room. "Is there an adult here?" he asked, keeping quiet. The girl laughed again.
"Mummy will be coming soon," she said in an exaggerated whisper, pointing at the door behind the desk. As she was speaking, a woman burst out of the door holding a stack of papers. She noticed her daughter pointing at her, and was about to reply when she caught sight of Harry. She put her papers down and gave Harry a wide smile.
"Hello, how can I help you?" she asked, looking him up and down. Harry could tell that she had recognised him, but was thankful that she said nothing.
"Erm, I'm not sure actually. What is this place?" he asked. The woman's smile softened.
"It's a hospital," she explained. "I'm Gabby," she introduced herself. "This is my daughter, Alison."
"A hospital?" Harry asked. He looked around. "I'm sorry, I thought I knew all the hospitals around here," he said. In the two years after the War, Harry had visited every magical hospital in the UK which had victims of the War in it. He had thought of trying Healing, and done a course to train as a mediwizard, the Muggle nurse equivalent in the Wizarding World, but like the Aurors, he had dropped out. He had stuck around for longer than he had with the Aurors, but the Healers whom he encountered were too astonished by his magic and he felt too much like he was in a fishbowl, so after learning how to use his magic for healing purposes and getting his mediwizard qualification, he dropped out. Now, four years after the War, he had very little going for him.
"We're an unusual hospital," Gabby explained, without explaining anything. Harry felt a bit uneasy, but it was difficult to hold onto that feeling when the room was so peaceful.
"An unusual hospital?" he asked. Gabby pointed to the door to his right.
"Through there there's the manager of the hospital. Without sounding strange, he's wanted to meet you for a long time."
Trying to put aside his creeping sense of unease, Harry shrugged again. How dangerous could a hospital be? Though he himself felt uneasy, something was calling his magic here, and he couldn't simply ignore that. He nodded at Gabby, who smiled at him.
She walked around the desk, and after giving Alison a stern look, marched on in front of Harry. He followed her through the right-hand side door into a long corridor. It wasn't sterile and blank, though; the walls were painted a lovely lavender and stunning pieces of art hung on the walls. The ceiling was painted as well, with images of children running across it, so lifelike that Harry almost expected them to move. Starting a little when he realised that he had fallen behind Gabby, he hurried along. She turned down another, smaller corridor with the same wood panelling as the room in the entrance and knocked at a nondescript door. It opened by itself, and she hustled Harry in.
There, sitting at a desk in a small, rather cluttered office, was a middle-aged man, dressed in a comfortable looking tweed jacket and corduroy trousers. Bookshelf upon bookshelf lined the walls, and the room gave off such a warm, welcoming feeling that Harry felt himself relax almost immediately. There was a fire near a lovely burgundy sofa. The man looked expectantly at Gabby, who backed out of the room and closed the door behind her. He smiled at Harry, who had a distinct sense that he had been led into some kind of trap.
"Who are you?" Harry asked. The man gestured Harry towards the sofa.
"Please sit down," he said. His voice had a distinct Welsh lilt to it, and was soft and soothing, designed to put people at ease. However, he hadn't met Harry. Harry shook his head.
"Not until you tell me who you are," he said.
"I'm Rhys," he said. "Owner and manager of the hospital. I'm not going to pretend that I don't know who you are," Rhys said with a wry smile. "It's not every day the man who graces the newspaper weekly walks into your office."
"You wanted me to come," Harry accused, his voice hard. "I don't like people who hide their intentions," he said, his hand going to his wand in his pocket.
"You're quick to ascribe malicious motivations to me, Mr. Potter," Rhys said mildly. He didn't seem offended.
"I'm used to people trying to manipulate me," he answered quickly.
"You wouldn't have seen the sign if your magic hadn't told you to come here, Mr. Potter," Rhys replied.
"Why would Gabby say that she knew you'd want to see me, if you hadn't manipulated the sign to appear in front of me?" Harry asked.
"There are several reasons, Mr. Potter, why I might want to meet you, which I will reveal to you in due course. But that sign can't be manipulated." Rhys leant back in his seat. "Why don't we have a civilised conversation without accusations? Please sit down."
Harry could find no reason to refuse, now, so he sat down on the burgundy sofa. He immediately felt the calming charms woven into the material. He did not want to be affected by other people's magic, so he let the intention weave into his magic so that they did not. He noticed Rhys watching him closely.
"You're an Empath," Harry stated, looking at Rhys. Rhys nodded.
"I'm surprised you didn't recognise it earlier. This place is steeped in Empath magic."
Harry sighed.
"I was distracted," he answered. Now that he had recognised it, he could feel the signature calming, soothing magic which marked out Empaths pulsing through the room. He had come across several Empaths when he had trained as a mediwizard. They were wizards with natural magical skill who could sense other people's emotions and reflect emotions at people as well.
"And untrained," Rhys observed. Harry shot him a look. Rhys ignored it. "The reason you saw the sign is because your magic is imbued with a need to help and heal. I can only speculate as to why, but the only answer I have is that you must have died."
Harry inhaled sharply and stood up again. His magic roared to the surface, manifesting itself in bright blue sparks which formed into a shield around him. Rhys' magic came to the surface as well, in strong red light.
"How would you know?" Harry asked, his voice shaking. "We kept it from the public."
"Mr. Potter, this is a magical shelter for magical creatures. I've seen many kinds of magic, with many different magical traditions and cultural norms. Though we look like we're in the middle of bustling Diagon Alley, as soon as you walk through the doors, you're transported to a different place, a more peaceful place. We only appear to magical creatures who truly want to either help or need help. You wouldn't have been able to see that sign if your magic was normal."
Harry's magic subsided in one exhaled breath. Rhys' disappeared more slowly. He gestured for Harry to sit back down again, which he did – heavily.
"I saw your magic when I went to the ceremony where you accepted your Order of Merlin, Mr. Potter. I'd never seen a human gain that kind of magical signature midway through their lifetime; I assumed that it was because of your experiences in the War. Only a rebirth of a kind would result in magic changing that dramatically." Rhys smiled reassuringly. "I've wanted to meet you ever since, Mr. Potter, but people have to find and walk into the hospital willingly. But there have been other factors which have prompted me to ask the magic of the hospital to seek you out sooner than you might be willing."
Harry looked at him very carefully. Rhys could almost feel how he was weighing up whether or not to trust him and what he was saying.
"When I died –" Harry took a shaky breath. "When I died in the Forbidden Forest, I saw Dumbledore in a place which looked very much like an ethereal version of King's Cross. When I came back to – when I came back to life, I found that my magic had started rebelling against any harsh hexes and curses. I was examined by a Healer, who almost went down on his knees begging me to become a Healer. I trained as a mediwizard for a year, but it stopped feeling right. I couldn't join the Aurors either. I've spent the past four years stalling."
" Your magic changed because you were magically reborn. There's no way you could live any kind of a normal life in the magical world, because your magic underwent a huge change. Part of that change, I think, can be explained by the reason I wanted you to come here," Rhys said.
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"This is a magical shelter, and a hospital for magical creatures who need help. Many of these creatures have been abused because they have tried to live in the magical world, which generally lacks any kind of creature rights and tends to spell first and ask later when they come across a magical creature. That's why most magical creatures keep their realms hidden, and only interact with the human magical world as ambassadors or when they absolutely must. However, some magical creatures have had success living amongst humans, and have procreated. Their offspring might have latent genes as magical creatures, which might never manifest, and they could have offspring of their own, et cetera. What sometimes happens is that those genes manifest themselves and creatures find themselves in abusive situations and often can't get out of them. It can result in mayhem, such as werewolves not being in packs and thus going insane and killing and biting people. Or veela being recruited as mascots of Quidditch teams, so out of touch with their nature that they feel that they can be used as intimidation."
Harry leant forward. He knew that this was going somewhere.
"Before I explain further what this has to do with your magic, I need to confirm it for myself. I know that this is a big ask of me, but I swear on my magic that I don't intend any harm towards you." A red light enveloped Rhys briefly, the sign that the magical oath had settled. "Will you let me hold your hands and explore your magic?" he asked.
Harry frowned. He knew the process; he'd had to go through it with several Healers. He had a feeling, however, that Rhys, as an Empath, would be more targeted.
"I want you to swear, again, that you will not pass on the information you glean to any person, creature or company without my express permission," Harry demanded. Rhys smiled gently and swore the oath before holding out his hands expectantly. Taking a deep breath, Harry took them.
Rhys felt the barriers in Harry Potter's mind strain against him, and it took him more willpower than he was accustomed to using to get into his mind. The barriers were strong and inflexible. There was a brief tussle and then suddenly, Rhys felt himself become sucked in.
He looked around him and felt all his suspicions being confirmed. He could see a huge white scar that ran down his mind, and he could feel the taint of long-gone Dark Magic in it, but otherwise, his mind was one of the most peaceful places Rhys had ever been into.
Blue and gold Healing magic throbbed through Harry's mind, and Rhys felt awash with peace. He had never felt so much peace in one place – natural Healing magic was so hard to come by because it was usually only found in certain magical creatures. The magic was completely in tune with Harry's emotions and his strength. Rhys could tell that his magical strength and his desire to protect and save was enormous. The power he could feel washing through Harry's mind was unlike any he had seen in a long time.
He walked gently to one of the corners of Harry's mind, where a small box lay on the ground. As he approached, the magic around him became stronger, and he knew that this was a special part of Harry's mind – and one he could guess Harry wasn't aware of, because of the lack of protection. He could see other beautifully carved boxes placed around Harry's mind, but the wards around them meant that he would never get close, not without Harry's absolute trust, and he knew he was pushing it merely by being in his mind.
The box opened to him as soon as he came near it, and a small wisp of magic came out of it and hovered in the air. He could feel the magic in Harry's mind hush as soon as the gold magic came out. Rhys didn't dare touch it, and instead bowed quietly and retreated from Harry's mind.
Only moments had passed outside of Harry's mind, and Rhys tapped Harry's shoulder to get him to wake up. Harry's green eyes fluttered open, and he took a deep breath.
"That was soft, thank you," Harry murmured sincerely, and Rhys had the impression that he knew what a rough entrance into a mind felt like.
"Empaths are good at that sort of thing," Rhys said, lifting himself up and sitting beside Harry on the sofa.
"Well?"
"Your magic is extremely pure. Whatever the experience you went through, it has made your magic absolutely untainted by the world," Rhys smiled. "You knew that." Harry nodded. "But I also saw that you have a specific type of magic in your mind that has manifested. It's called Destined magic. Have you ever heard of it?"
"No," Harry said. "Is it harmful?"
"Quite the contrary, Mr. Potter. It's a coveted form of magic. It lies dormant in most humans, owing to the way their magic has evolved. But it is present in all magical creatures. Magical creatures keep the existence of Destined very quiet. Somewhere along the line, someone must have told humans about their existence because humans have the concept of a soulmate," Rhys said.
"Destined are soulmates? That's complete rubbish, there's no such thing as a soulmate," Harry snorted.
"You're a cynic, understandably. You've got to understand, however, that Destined aren't the same thing as soulmates. Humans took the idea of Destined and distilled it into one aspect of what it means to be one – the romantic side. To be a Destined, however, is about compatibility. It's compatibility on every single level, magical, verbal, physical. It's not just about wanting to fall in love with someone, or the idea of it being predestined. It's something completely unique to magical creatures. For a human to be a Destined means that their magic must be of a particular kind, or they must be particularly attached to a magical creature, so that their magic changes and adapts to become Destined. For the latter to happen requires an exceptionally strong bond, the likes of which I have never seen in my lifetime."
"I'm assuming that I'm the former. What does that mean?" Harry asked.
"Humans like the idea of predestined love because it takes hardship out of the equation. A Destined isn't a predestined thing. It's about being destined to have the deepest bond possible with someone else, where your magic, your feelings, your physicality matches. It's also something which could apply to more than one person. As such, polyamorous relationships are much more common in the creature world relative to the human one. It's not an instantaneous thing either, though it can be, nor does some nebulous force out in the world have any idea who the person might be. Magic, the force which binds magical creatures and magical humans together, creates some to be Destined, but it is up to that person to learn how to find that magical compatibility. Destined can go their whole lives never meeting, or never learning how to understand the connection between them."
"What does this mean for me?" Harry stressed.
"You weren't aware of your capability as a Destined, but I've woken that up in your mind. When your magic changed, it adapted so that it would be able to bond with magical creatures. You can't be Destined with a human any longer."
"Why not?" Harry asked.
" Magical creatures have the highest concentration of magic inside them, and as such they are unable to live in the Muggle world and unable to fit in. Even those creatures with anthropomorphic forms can't entirely pass as human. Humans received a smaller dose of magic, such that they needed a focus of some kind to learn how to access it. However, Magic never wanted creatures and humans to be unable to live together, and thus created some humans to be Destined. Magical creatures are Destined automatically, because they are so magical, regardless of whether they are hippogriff, unicorn, werewolf or veela. To create beings which are so inherently magical requires a deep-seated magical connection with someone. The act of procreation with magical creatures is deeply magical, unlike human procreation."
Harry tapped his knee nervously. He didn't like not knowing things about the magical world, and especially when it regarded an aspect of the world, he had to admit he had been intensely prejudiced about.
"So, some humans are Destined? How do they get picked?" Harry asked. Rhys leant back in his seat, steepling his hands together in thought.
"They don't get picked. For a human's magic to be naturally Destined rather than through an intense bond, they usually have magical creature ancestry of some kind, or they go through an event which fundamentally changes their magic, though their magic must be susceptible to change anyway. You spoke, in your interviews, about how your mother sacrificed herself for you, an act of love so deep that Tom Riddle was unable to touch you originally." Harry nodded. He had spoked in depth about his mother to try and take some of the heat of the fame off him. "That act changed the make-up of your magic on a fundamental level because it absorbed some of her magic to give you protection. In addition to what I must assume was Tom Riddle's Horcrux, your magic went through an intense upheaval when you died because it was allowed to mature and flourish on its own."
Harry's face was slack with shock. They had never mentioned Horcrux magic in public, only to some people in the Ministry to set up laws around such Dark Magic, because they had been afraid of triggering any resurgence in the obscure practice of Horcruxes through publicity of it. Rhys was much more knowledgeable than Harry gave him credit.
"I've been around a long time, Mr. Potter," Rhys said, smiling benevolently. "I know magic you've never heard of."
"Clearly," Harry murmured, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, if I accept that my magic went through some weird transformation and is now what it is, why does that make me interesting to you? Surely there are other such humans with Destined magic who wander around without ever knowing about it? Do they have to meet a magical creature to activate their magic?"
"In answer to your last two questions, yes and no. To have Destined magic means that you are uniquely suited to a match with a magical creature, but not necessarily. You can meet another human with deeply compatible magic and marry them. But magical creatures will be much more alert to Destined magic and understand the forces behind it much better. Normally, it takes a while for a Destined bond to manifest, because the magic of the individuals will court each other's, to properly assess compatibility. I don't truly understand the process, because I've never been part of it, but I've watched Destined bonds manifest. It can take up to two years of dancing around for the magic to pull itself together. It's a completely instinctive process; because magical creatures are much more in tune with their instincts and their magic, it's something they understand a lot better. There are humans who wander around without ever knowing about Destined magic. Those humans are usually extremely magically powerful ones, or especially proficient in one area of magic, because for human magic to be Destined, it has to be unique already. Albus Dumbledore was likely a Destined, and probably Tom Riddle, though his magic was eventually corrupted. Some people do not deserve the gift of magic."
Harry raised an eyebrow at the vehemence that had entered Rhys' voice. Rhys noticed, and chuckled reluctantly.
"I feel strongly about how people use the magic they have. Why you? Why now?" Rhys shook his head, his voice becoming mild again. "It's not been difficult to follow how you've not settled. You're not in a relationship, you're not working, you shun your fame, you don't own yourself." Harry bristled, ready to riposte, but Rhys held up his hand. "Why should I care? Well, I want to offer you a job first of all. Second of all, what do you know of fae?"
"Fae?" Harry asked blankly, still focusing on the job part of the equation. "Nothing. Back up a bit, a job?"
"You're mediwizard trained, and I can tell that you were part of a werewolf's pack."
Harry swallowed, blinking fast.
"Remus – he lost his whole pack when my parents were killed and then in my fifth year, with Sirius' death. He adopted me as part of his pack, but it was only official shortly before he died. How did you know Remus?" he asked Rhys.
"He came here, after Sirius' death. An alpha who loses his whole pack suffers an immense trauma. When he came here, he met some other werewolves who taught him some things he didn't yet know about himself. I think he met his Destined in Nymphadora Tonks. Metamorphmagi have magical creature ancestry of some kind, and usually bond with a magical creatures."
"He was my alpha for the short period before he died. When I agreed to be Teddy's godfather, I felt the pack bond settle in place. It almost broke but held because otherwise Teddy would have lost his whole pack. Teddy lives with me on weekends, with his grandmother during the week. I learnt bits and pieces about werewolf etiquette from notes Remus made and left behind in their house. I've been trying to apply them for Teddy."
"The pack bond you have means that you'll be able to interact with the magical creatures and they'll respect you because your magic will be marked by the fact that you've been adopted into a pack. Your healing experience means that you're a perfect hire. You could also do without a fan club following you around," Rhys said matter-of-factly. Harry grimaced, but acknowledged Rhys' point with a tilt of his head.
"What about the fae thing?" he asked. Rhys became sombre very suddenly.
"Fae are very private magical creatures. Most people don't know they exist. They're winged creatures, but their wings are retractable. They blend in almost seamlessly with humans, something which no other creature has really succeeded in doing. Even werewolves have to disappear on one particular night every month, and Veela have the allure which they struggle to control around humans. They work intimately with nature and magic. Their religions are very old ones, and they believe that Magic is a sentient force. I've come to believe that they have something right with regard to that. They participate in many rituals; their knowledge of magic and how it works is second to none. The wings of the fae will tell you what kind of fae they are. When they reach a certain age, usually around seventeen, their magic will stabilise and specialise, though in rare cases this will happen earlier. The specialties which most fae will fall into are either offensive, defensive, or healing. Very rarely, fae will become either gold or silver. They are the reason the fae population stay hidden."
Harry felt a sense of dread.
"Silver fae are incredibly skilled in ritual work and coveted by the darkest of humans for that exact reason. They are also able to communicate with other animals and magical creatures in the tongue of the other, without any prior training, and as such are usually used in diplomacy. They're incredibly fierce and protective as well, with a capacity for tactical fighting which make them very attractive as mates as well as in fighting. Sometimes, in ritual, they are able to foresee parts of the future. However, it is the gold fae who are the most vulnerable. Their feathers have healing properties and some of the most powerful potions in the world can only be made with their feathers. Their magic is also able to create illusions as well as make things grow. Like the silver fae, they can see into the future, but they require no ritual work to do so. There's something very special about seeing one of them; you feel like you're in the presence of purity that you'd never be pure enough, ever, to be worthy of. All of the above are reasons to hunt down gold fae and keep them captive, but that's not the main reason."
"There's more?" Harry said, feeling sick.
"The males can have children, and regardless of sex, the child of a gold fae is incredibly magical and without a doubt very magically strong and pure. Some of the Darkest ritual craft requires pure magic, and that can only be found in the offspring of gold fae. Gold fae use their magic and the magic of their mate, or mates, to form a sort of magical womb where the child will grow. Of course, female fae become pregnant, but for male fae, this happens outside their body, so they create a nest of some sort. This can only happen after having sex with his or her mates. During that period, the gold fae is immensely vulnerable, because all the effort goes into maintaining a strong enough magical connection with their child. For male fae, they will hide themselves away and not emerge until after the child has been born, with only their mate or mates being allowed to come near. But this means that unless they're safe, they're vulnerable to all sorts of horrific acts. Because of the magical nature of the child, gold fae are extremely attractive to black market smugglers."
"I'm assuming, because of this graphic detail, that you've got a gold fae here," Harry said grimly. Rhys nodded.
"Gold fae normally bond with two others who have complementary skills and who are able to keep their offspring safe. Nothing is more important to gold fae than their offspring. There is almost nothing in the world that is stronger or more dangerous than a gold fae trying to protect their children, but they need mates who will be able to protect them from danger so that they can protect their children. Unfortunately, the gold fae we have here was
raped by Death Eaters and impregnated. He had his child four years ago. Both of them are traumatised, though he succeeded in protecting his child from most of the pain. His child is very eloquent, but the fae has hidden himself in his natural form, so it's impossible to identify who he is when he's human. I haven't been able to touch him or come near him. No one knows that he and his daughter are here."
Harry felt even more sick at the thought of what this fae had been through.
"Now, the reason I want you is because the gold fae was found at Malfoy Manor, shortly before Lucius Malfoy's trial two years ago. Mr. Malfoy had, as you know, escaped trial for so long because he wasn't considered a priority due to his defection in the final battle and the fact that he had holed up with his family at Malfoy Manor and didn't seem to be going anywhere. The more dangerous Death Eaters were the priority. However, shortly before his trial, the Aurors conducted a raid of Malfoy Manor, because enough of the Death Eaters' testimonies in court talked of what Tom Riddle had done in the Manor and the Dark objects, he'd hidden there that it was considered imperative to raid the Manor. He was found hidden in a back cellar, along with a few other escaped Death Eaters who had obviously been taking out their frustrations on the fae. Most of them were given the Dementor's Kiss, but Malfoy and others was put in Azkaban for life. There was no proof that he had...touched the fae, so he and others were sentenced on the basis of their Death Eater crimes. Mr. Malfoy could have escaped sentencing apart from the fact that he was hiding Death Eaters. Narcissa Malfoy, because of your testimony, was only sentenced to house arrest in France. She's hidden her son there, I'd wager, until he's granted political amnesty here."
"It took us too long to get around to giving the Mr. Malfoy a trial. I don't know how he escaped." Harry shook his head. "Corruption in the Ministry. I don't blame Narcissa for keeping her son safe. He was only a child."
"You were all children when you fought." Rhys said perceptively. Harry shrugged, and Rhys moved on, sensing his discomfort. "The Ministry was such a mess under the Fudge Administration that too many Death Eaters managed to escape. Thank Merlin they were found with the Malfoys."
"Lucius Malfoy is probably regretting it deeply." Harry rolled his shoulders around, sitting deeper into the sofa. Rhys gave a small smile and leant back, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Be that as it may, the fae was found there. He's been with us for two years and hasn't recovered much."
"Why would a fae found at Malfoy Manor mean you wanted me?" Harry asked.
"Well, that's the interesting thing. I go to where we've hidden the fae every day to deliver food and generally to have a chat. His daughter sometimes replies to me, but I've never seen her. The gold fae hid her from us when we found him. Only because we heard her do we know that she exists. The other day, when I went there, he asked for you. He said that you would be able to help him."
"Me?" Harry asked incredulously. "I don't know any gold fae, or anyone who could have been a gold fae."
"We've no idea where this fae has come from, where he was captured, who he is, but we know that he hasn't asked for anything except safety. The Ministry obliviated all the Aurors who were part of the raid and left him with us. They didn't even tell the fae ambassador, because they wanted to know what this fae wanted before contacting him. That's a breach of protocol, but I considered it more important to heal him than to put him through the traumatic bureaucratic process of discovering his identity before he was ready. The fact that he's asked for you is the biggest step so far, and I'm loath to refuse him."
Harry snorted.
"I'm not going to refuse something like this, especially because he needs so much help."
Rhys gave him a relieved smile.
"Thank you so much. You've no idea how desperate I've been."
It was another half hour before Rhys and Harry left Rhys' office since they had had to iron out the finer details of Harry's new working contract and pay. However, soon they had left his office and Rhys led Harry down the beautiful wood-panelled corridor.
They stepped through another nondescript side door, into a descending spiral staircase made of skilfully twisted iron. Harry carefully made his way down, since it got darker the lower they went, and soon they were down in an almost pitch-black corridor. A faint blue light glowed above them.
"It's reassuring for him," Rhys whispered. "More safety."
Harry felt the tension rise about them as they went further into the corridor, which seemed to disappear behind them. He shivered, feeling cold. The walls seemed to seep out cold air, and Harry's breath misted in front of him.
"My magic will prevent anyone not meant to be here from finding their way to him. Very clever confusion and disorientation spells, if I do say so myself."
Harry gave a very soft laugh but soon fell silent. Suddenly, Rhys came to a stop, lifting up his hand. A huge silver door appeared in front of them, and Harry could feel the powerful warding magic coming off it.
"It's his magic. I can't go any further. Normally I leave food out here for him and his daughter, and it's gone by the next morning. Go up to the door, I'll wait out here for however long it takes."
Harry looked sceptically at Rhys but did as he was told.
Slowly, very gently, he walked right up to the edge of the wards. He could feel them prickling angrily, but then he did something that he very rarely did. Closing his eyes, he let go of his magic. He felt it approach the wards with a tenderness he knew was modelled on how angry and injured the wards felt, and he felt it wrap soothingly around the wards, letting the fae know that he was safe. His magic spread itself over all the wards, and Harry revelled in the power and intricacy of them; it was some of the loveliest magic he had ever touched in his life, despite the pain his magic could feel.
He could feel the wards communicating something to his magic, but it was garbled and muddled. Harry pushed harder on conveying the utter safety of his magic, and the wards went out to absorb him. He gasped as he entered the other side of them, and he saw Rhys as if through a mist with his hand to his mouth.
Harry turned away from Rhys and went up to the door. It was slightly ajar, and Harry opened it so slowly that it took him almost a minute to get it open wide enough, and as soon as he stepped through, it slammed shut forcefully behind it, startling him.
He turned around to face the room he was in and an awed smile took over his face. The room was covered in grass and flowers in full bloom, and a warm breeze blew through it. There, in the middle of the field, stood a shimmering figure with gorgeous white wings. Harry had seen a fair few magical creatures with wings in his life, but this creature was ethereal. They were spread wide, a huge wingspan, and the whole of the wing bone and select feathers were a shining gold. The fae's face looking like nothing human; it was perfect, or as near to perfect as it was possible to get, flawless and gleaming. His hair was like spun gold, thin and fine, and flowed out around him. His hands were clawed, and he was wearing a white tunic. His eyes gleamed silver, flecked with gold, and Harry immediately understood why it was such a special thing to see a gold fae. Harry did not believe in a God, but upon seeing this figure, he believed in angels.
"Dear Merlin," he whispered breathlessly. The fae snarled furiously when he took a step forward, so Harry took a step back again and sat down very slowly on the ground. He remembered that the fae had a daughter, and assumed that she was hidden behind his wings. All he did was close his eyes and let his magic fan out again, stopping just before the fae.
It was several minutes before Harry felt the fae advance close enough so that he stepped into his magical field. He couldn't help but gasp when he felt the fae's magical signature interfere with his own. It was like a shock of pure electricity. He shivered. The fae's magic was otherworldly, and he was horrified that anyone had voluntarily tainted the fae.
"I'm Harry," he said, his voice very soft but strong enough so that it reached the fae. "But you know that."
The fae trilled ever so quietly, and a smile pulled at Harry's lips. It was a calming and beautiful sound, a pure one, and Harry let his smile take over his face and his joy at hearing it pulse through his magic. The fae took a step closer and trilled louder.
Harry opened his eyes, and he felt a tear come to it. The fae was still a fair distance away, but his wings had closed and there, standing next to his leg, was a small girl with the palest blonde hair, streaked with gold, Harry had ever seen and stunning gold eyes, ones that hinted at her parentage. She was looking ever so tentatively at Harry, and he knew that this was a huge step for the fae. He looked at him in the eye briefly, before the fae ducked his head.
"Thank you," Harry breathed. "May I come closer?" he asked, looking at the fae steadily. The moment stretched out indefinitely before the fae nodded.
He stood up and walked ever so slowly towards the fae, letting him see all of his movements. He stopped right in front of the fae, only about three steps away, and then slowly, carefully lowered himself so that he was sitting on the ground and lower than the fae's daughter. She looked at him curiously before looking up at the fae, who nodded and purred softly. She let go of his leg and took a very brave step forward.
"And who are you?" Harry asked, remembering that Rhys said she was eloquent for her age.
"Ismay," she replied. "You're Harry."
"That's such a pretty name! You heard me, didn't you, Ismay?" Harry asked, trying out the name and giving her a wide grin. She peeked shyly at him and nodded quickly. With a sudden, rushed movement, the fae dropped down so that he was crouched beside Ismay. She turned towards him instinctively, curling her small body against his side. A wing automatically wrapped around her and the fae made a very quiet sound in the back of his throat as if to reassure his daughter. Ismay smiled against his shoulder. Harry assumed that she could somehow understand him.
"Can you understand your daddy?" he asked her. She looked at him and burrowed even further into the fae until all that was visible of her was her head, since the rest of her body was wrapped up by the wing. She nodded.
"Well, Ismay, do you know what I should call your daddy?" Harry asked, keeping his body stance open and non-threatening, his magic still fanned out around him. Ismay shook her head anxiously, and the fae rumbled at her. His eyes were pinned on Harry, and Harry had the distinct feeling that he was being sized up by him.
"It's okay, you won't be in trouble for not knowing," Harry said. "It means I can give your daddy a great nickname!" he said, giving an exaggerated grin. He glanced back at the fae to see that the eyes had lowered again. It seemed that he could only maintain eye contact if his daughter was being threatened. "Hmmm…how about Goldilocks?" he asked her, and Ismay giggled, pushing aside the fae's wing so that Harry was able to see her whole body. She was still curled into the fae, but Harry recognised this for the step it was.
"No! That's silly!" she giggled again, putting her hand up to her mouth nervously. The fae rumbled again, deep inside his chest, reassuringly. He wrapped an arm around her and rolled her around so that she was hanging over his knee and he was tickling her. She gave loud shrieks of laughter, and the beautiful smile on the fae's face told Harry that he was pleased. The love between the two of them brought a tear to Harry's eye. He could see that how deeply they adored each other, and how Ismay relied totally on her father.
The fae dropped Ismay gently to the ground, making sure that she was supported in every way. Harry could see what Rhys had meant, saying that any child of a fae's would be his absolute priority. It was breath-taking.
"Okay…what about…" Harry paused. "How about I call him Angel, seeing as he's so good at protecting you, hmm?" he asked, and Ismay gave the fae an adoring look, which he returned, and she nodded rapidly.
"He's the best," she confided in Harry, and Harry smiled.
"How did you learn to speak, sweetheart?" he asked, looking at the now-nicknamed Angel for permission to speak to his daughter. Angel nodded but stayed close to Ismay.
"Daddy taught me," she replied, twiddling with her long blonde hair nervously. Angel crouched down beside her and unravelled her hair from her finger, kissing her finger when it was finally untangled. She smiled and murmured a quiet 'sorry'. Angel rumbled back at her soothingly, and she seemed to take comfort in that.
"Was he always like this?" he asked, looking carefully at Angel, who frowned at the question but did nothing to stop Ismay from answering it.
"No, Daddy can speak, but he says he does this to protect me," she said, looking anxiously at her father. He picked her up again and rocked her gently in his arms until she looked completely relaxed again. He kissed her face several times, drawing a sleepy smile from her, and trilled a series of notes at her that had her nodding more and more lethargically, until she fell asleep, utterly safe in her father's arms. Harry put a hand to his face to stem the tears. His magic heaved for a moment, answering his emotions, but he soon got it under control. When he looked up again, he saw that his upheaval had not gone unnoticed by Angel, who was looking at him, considering something. Then, taking Harry by surprise, he offered him his hand. Harry noticed that the claws there earlier had disappeared.
"Really?" he asked. Angel trilled softly, and Harry took it as an affirmative. He took his hand and felt a wash of incredible magic go over him, and then he felt it snap into place. Angel quickly snatched back his hand, and Harry lowered his to the ground so that they were as far away from Angel as they could get.
Can you hear me? a quiet, uncertain voice filled his mind. Harry gasped and dug his fingers into the ground to stop rearing back suddenly.
"Oh Merlin, you're speaking! I can hear you!" Harry looked at him in amazement.
Angel gave a tentative smile, but his wings wrapping around his waist and hiding his daughter gave away his fear of communicating like this.
You've been so careful, Angel replied, and his voice sounded so scared and faint that it was all Harry could do not to give him a hug. He knew that it would be absolutely the wrong thing to do, especially since he was carrying his daughter. It's why I asked for you.
"I would never hurt you, I swear to you," Harry said determinedly. "Whatever you want me for, I'm here to help."
I know, Angel said, your magic says so. It's very calming.
Harry laughed in delight.
"I've never been able to properly use it."
Now you have the chance, Angel murmured, and Harry felt the bitterness in the words.
"Hey," he said, putting out his hand very slowly and letting it hover just in front of the fae. Angel had pulled back a bit at his movement but halted and allowed himself to come forward again when he saw that Harry wasn't going to move. "You're braver than you can possibly know, and your daughter is a wonder to behold. You've raised her right, considering your circumstances."
I can't talk to you about that, Angel said immediately. I have the memories, but they're my human side more than my fae side. And my human side is not ready to come out yet. He's too traumatised. I need to heal, and Issy needs to heal as well.
Harry was astonished at the number of words he heard, and couldn't stop smiling.
"I'm sorry, I really am, but I'm so glad that you're speaking to me," Harry said gently, making sure that Angel did not misinterpret his expression. "It means I can help you."
I don't trust you, Angel replied instantly, frowning, but you're my best chance to get out of this. Harry felt the fae's magic surge.
"I know," Harry answered. "You've been trying to heal for a long time."
Yes, Angel said, sitting down on the grass. Harry watched in fascination as the grass grew taller, greener, and softer around the fae. Rhys has done an impressive job. I've learnt a lot about myself. I need a push, to become myself again. But Rhys can't provide that.
Ismay stirred in his arms, and the fae's attention turned to his daughter at once, shushing her and brushing a hand through her hair until she calmed again. Your magic talked to mine. He looked steadily at Harry, the first time he had maintained eye contact, and Harry blushed.
"You think I can?" Harry asked, rocking back on his heels. What was it about him that the fae knew?
My human side is far away at the moment, but sometimes I get flashes, Angel answered, looking down at the grass and picking it with his free hand. You appeared in several flashes. You know who my human side is.
"What do you want me to do?" Harry tilted his head, looking ponderingly at the fae sitting in front of him.
I don't know. My head – it's muddled and confused and nothing is clear. I can't talk to others, I'm too scared to make a connection. You were the only clear thing in my mind for a while.
I want to help, Harry thought and was astonished to see the fae's eyes widen in surprise. Suddenly, he realised that he had spoken back mentally.
You shouldn't be able to do that, the fae said, standing up and backing away, shielding Ismay behind his wings.
Harry stood up quickly, holding his arms out and backing away so as not to crowd Angel.
"Hey, hey, it's okay, I'm sorry," Harry said, slowly lowering himself to the ground again, far enough away that Angel could see his every move almost as soon as he made it. He calmed his magic down and let it pull away from Angel, standing just far away enough that the fae knew that he wasn't trying to calm him. As soon as his magic left Angel, he felt the mind link snap. "Don't worry. I didn't know. I won't do it again."
Angel stepped forward again into Harry's magic, and the mind link came back into place. It hummed in Harry's mind, and Harry's magic welcomed it.
You surprised me. It means that my magic has received yours more than I expected.
They stopped and stared at each other.
"I've got to go," he said. "And I think that you and Ismay need to sleep. Is it okay if I come again tomorrow?"
Angel lowered his eyes and nodded quickly.
That's why you're here, he said, before the air shimmered and he seemed to disappear.
Harry knew that he hadn't, but that the audience was over. Still moving incredibly slowly, he backed away to the door and walked through it backwards, letting it shut in front of him.
Taking a huge breath and letting it go, he turned around to Rhys, who was leaning against the wall, tapping the floor anxiously. Rhys jumped up as soon as he saw him, and Harry gave a delighted laugh, moving out of the fae's buzzing magic.
"You will never believe what happened!"