AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you read this story when it was originally posted, you know that it included a heavy dose of lemons. The story, along with quite few others of mine were taken down because of that. I've started reuploading it with those aspects of the story redacted. If you'd like to find the unedited story, you can head over to ao3 or follow the link in my profile if you'd also like to support my writing.


The blood thrummed in his ears. Distant screams cut through the air and faint heat licked at his skin from a blazing tent nearby. It was pure chaos, plain and simple. Harry didn't know exactly what was happening. He, Hermione, and Ron had run from the Weasley family tent in a panic.

They tried to stay together, but they'd been separated in the commotion. Merlin, I hope they're alright. Ron doesn't even have a wand to protect himself. It'd gone missing sometime during the World Cup Final match. Ron was worried sick about finding it. His ginger friend didn't think his parents would be willing to get him a second new one in as many years.

But Harry didn't really have the time to worry about his friends at that moment. He needed to ensure his own safety first and find out about them when the dust settled.

Harry's own holly wand rested against his forearm, safely secure in a holster that Sirius sent him for his birthday. It was one of a few gifts. Fifteen years is a long time to make up for and having learned about Harry's penchant for getting himself into trouble, he'd sent a collection of tomes as well. And in no uncertain terms, Sirius insisted he study them. I doubt that Sirius expected I would get myself into trouble again so soon, though. I haven't even had the opportunity to practice any of the new spells yet.

When this all started, Mr. Weasley urged them to make their way to the forest so that's what he'd done. Currently, he was near the edge of the encampment, about twenty meters from the forest He didn't know where the lamp-lit path through the wood that led to the stadium was, but he could see the massive structure over the trees.

There was a shrill cry that drew his attention as he passed, he ran further into the encampment toward the noise. There were two Death Eaters, all in black with their skull masks, tormenting a family of four. They had a boy, probably no more than seven, under a curse that had him writhing on the ground. His sandy hair stuck to his sweat soaked brow. His mother and father dangled above, crying and cursing helplessly in a language Harry didn't understand, completely unable to help their son. The boy's older brother lay unconscious, nose broken and bleeding.

A familiar warmth effused his arm as his wand shot into his hand. There was a voice in his head that sounded oddly like Hermione that told him this was stupid. You have no chance against two adult wizards. Keep yourself safe. It was a fair point, and he wasn't confident he'd win in a fair fight. Luckily, he didn't intend to fight fair. And he didn't have it in him to just leave people in danger when he could help them.

Neither of the Death Eaters noticed his presence. They were enjoying themselves far too much to worry about anything else. And nobody's shown up yet to put an end to this shite. If the Ministry couldn't be relied upon to help these people, then Harry would.

This would be easier if I just had my invisibility cloak. But he didn't, so there was no use dwelling on it. Quietly as he could manage, he approached the bastards. He wanted to be close enough that there was no chance of missing.

"Expelliarmus." He whispered the incantation once, and then twice in quick succession. His aim was true, and both Death Eaters found their wands ripped from their hands as they were knocked forcefully into the ground.

"Fucker! I'll rip you apart!" One of the men shouted, as they both tried to rise from the ground. It was an empty threat though, as they were too busy searching in the grass for their wands. Another spell came to his lips. Most nearly-fourth years wouldn't know it, but his enjoyment of dueling pushed him ahead a fair bit in his studies, "Stupefy."

A red light shot from his wand, once and then again. Both men fell to the ground with a dull thud, completely still. It was over easier than he could have hoped. Never underestimate the element of surprise.

The parents dangling in the air fell to the ground heavily, with the caster unconscious the spell's effects wore off. Pureblood bastards aren't as strong as they like to think. A sufficiently powerful magician would have had their spell last. Harry didn't have the time to catch them, but they stood unharmed. They hurried toward their children and cradled each of them in their arms. They turned grateful eyes toward him.

Harry just gave them a slight nod of his head, but otherwise paid them little attention. He had something else on his mind. He approached the two unconscious men and removed their masks. Neither face was familiar to him. He half-hoped he'd get lucky and find Lucius Malfoy beneath one of them. Instead, it was just two more nameless bigots who reveled in tormenting those they thought as lesser than themselves.

Their wands were easy enough to find. And with the adrenaline pumping in his veins, he didn't give his next actions a second thought. He snapped each one and burned the broken remains. He left the charred wood sitting on the chest of each man.

It was only then that he looked to the family he rescued, "Get to safety… if you can."

"Thank you." The father told him, with an Eastern European accent he couldn't identify.

As Harry left them, he couldn't help but notice that the situation was still out of control. The Ministry should have set this right by now. But then again, Harry was fully aware how inept the Ministry could be in handling a situation. He couldn't help but recall the Chamber incident in his second year. They arrested Hagrid and dismissed Dumbledore all on the word of bloody Malfoy just to be seen doing something… instead of actually doing something.

If help wasn't coming, he'd just have to help himself. And as many others as I can manage along the way. He helped two more people as he tried to find safety. One was a woman he would think was in her seventies if she were a muggle. She'd been trapped in a burning tent right at the edge of the encampment, hands and hair singed. Her wand lost to her when the tent collapsed. He'd freed her using the Aguamenti Charm.

The last thing he did before finally entering the forest was help a little girl no more than four years of age. He returned her to her parents without much trouble. Her mother had been screaming her name at the forest's edge while her father searched for her in the encampment.

Running aimlessly through the woods of Dartmoor for the next ten minutes, he eventually came to the stadium. The massive structure with its golden walls appeared undisturbed, the golden light that seemed to emanate from it lighting up the dark night. It should be safe in there. If the Death Eaters are just looking to terrorize people they'll stay down by the camps.

As he entered the stadium, it seemed eerily quiet. The roars that resonated as thousands of witches and wizards cheered on their countries quidditch teams were long since quiet. Harry made his way toward the stands, though he had no intention of climbing all the way up to the top box where they watched the final from. It was as he entered the lower stands that he realized he wasn't alone, and that the Death Eaters hadn't reserved their actions to just the encampment. He hid himself behind the seats, praying that he hadn't been seen.

Down on the field that still looked smooth as velvet, save for some obvious scorch marks, there were five figures. Right at the edge three Death Eaters stood above two unconscious women. But they weren't just women, they were two of the Bulgarian mascots.

Harry was surprised the bastards managed to subdue them. He along with all the spectators saw how ferocious the ethereal beauties could be when angered. Though they do look worse for wear. Seems the Veela got in a few shots of their own. The Death Eaters' robes looked torn in places and one of them had a nasty looking burn on their leg. Their defense clearly hadn't been enough though.

The Death Eaters' voices carried faintly over to him in the stands, but he couldn't make out exactly what was being said. He watched as one of them pulled a potion vial from within their robes and uncorked it. The man limped over the ten meters to one of the unconscious women. Forcing her mouth open, he filled it with the vibrant red liquid. Still unmoving, but as if on instinct, the woman swallowed rather than drown.

Harry didn't recognize the potion, but he doubted it could be anything good. He had no intention of finding out whatever it was they planned next, but he also knew he had little chance of getting all three at once.

Popping up from behind the stands, he brandished his wand. He forced his magic and will through it, "Confringo." This spell was one he'd only read the theory on, but he needed to do something to hurt both at once. Luckily, I've always been better at practical than theory.

He aimed between the two men standing together a good distance from the two Veela. The spell impacted between them, nearer the one to his right than his left. The explosion that followed was massive, creating a small crater in the once pristine field and throwing dirt all around. Some of the wreckage even landed on the two Veela but they were otherwise unharmed by the spell. The same couldn't be said for the Death Eaters as a pained scream echoed throughout the stadium.

Harry didn't get the chance to be shocked at the results of his spell. Instead, he moved immediately, keeping low as a return spell demolished the area where he'd just been. He seemed to do a good job hiding as the next spell was nowhere near him. He stopped and looked around, trying to take stock of the situation, when he heard a pop come from behind him.

Dodging to his right, he avoided a sickly-looking orange spell that disintegrated the seat it struck. He jumped over the top of the stands to the ground four meters below. He resisted the urge to cry out as he landed awkwardly on his left ankle. He had more important things to worry about than a twisted ankle though. It won't hurt if I'm dead. At least the adrenaline kept the pain at bay.

He could see one of the two Death Eaters he struck with the Blasting Curse struggling from the ground. The other was writhing in pain unable to stand. Half of their right leg was mangled, and the foot was missing entirely. That Death Eater stilled a few seconds later, passing out from either blood loss or shock. Harry couldn't say for sure.

Knowing that he'd have little chance against two assailants by himself, Harry charged toward the injured Death Eaters. Spell fire from the stands destroyed bits of the field around him, but none of them hit their mark. When he was close enough that he trusted his aim, he fired off a stunner that struck the man still trying to rise. That's two of them taken care of. There was another pop, and the third man was standing in front of him.

"Expelliarmus." He resorted to his most trusted spell, but the more experienced wizard simply caught it with a shield.

The returning spell lit every nerve in his body up as though it were on fire, driving him down onto his knees, "Oh… this is too good." Harry recognized the voice. Of course, now I find the bloody senior Malfoy.

The pain stopped as the bastard laughed. Trying to focus Harry pointed his wand behind Lucius, toward one of the Veela, and quietly whispered, "Reenervate."

He hoped they were merely stunned. It did seem that the Death Eaters had other plans for them after all.

Lucius didn't hear the spell, and took the time to gloat, "You need to work on your aim, Potter. Pity you won't have the chance." There was a spell on his lips as he pointed his wand, but whatever he intended, he never go the chance. From behind him, a very much awake and furious Veela hurled a fireball at the Death Eater.

The force of it knocked Lucius forward and his robes ignited. Panicking he dropped to the ground, trying to stifle the flame. The woman was charging toward him though avian wings flapping, beak snapping, and claws bared.

It was then that, high above in the clouds, something appeared. There was a massive glittering skull with a snake protruding from its mouth hanging menacingly in the sky. It distracted the Veela, and Harry fired off a stunner, knocking Lucius unconscious. He would love nothing more than to see the bastard torn to shreds, but he also knew the Minister couldn't be trusted not to twist the story and somehow frame the foreign magical as the assailant when she was the victim. I wager he'd do anything to keep Malfoy's money flowing into his coffers.

The distraction didn't last though and with Lucius no longer a threat, the Veela's attention turned toward Harry. Stalking toward him with a frightening grace and speed, he hurriedly raised his hands in surrender, wand pointed away from her, "You're safe! I'm not going to hurt you!"

This brought the avian woman up short, just a few paces in front of him. She scrutinized him with black eyes, trying to find the truth of what he was saying. Whatever she found must have been in his favor. He watched as her eyes changed from black pools to electric blue. With that change, others followed; the wings retracted into her shoulder blades, claws became pale, dainty hands, and the beak morphed into an aristocratic nose and full lips.

From a distance, they'd been beautiful to Harry. Up close the woman in front of him was enthralling. The most gorgeous woman he'd seen in his eighteen years, she was captivating in a way that was hard to describe. But he could feel a presence trying to influence him to impress her, to fawn over her, to do everything in his power to gain her attention. He remembered how others in the stadium had almost thrown themselves over the railing to get to them earlier, how they'd distracted the referee. Now is not the time! With some effort, he controlled those impulses though he couldn't stop the blush from coming to his cheeks.

"You should check on your friend." He told her as calmly as he could manage. She stared at him appraisingly, before nodding her head and walking toward her companion. As she passed the unconscious bodies, she did spare a particularly precise and brutal kick toward each of them. Fortunately, physical pain alone wasn't enough to wake someone from a stunner. Or at least sufficiently powerful stunners.

As she went to check on the other Veela, Harry retrieved the wands of the three Death Eaters. He didn't' know what would happen to them when the Ministry arrived but, if they weren't going to be punished properly, this was the least he could do. He snapped each wand and took great pleasure in destroying Lucius' in particular, he hadn't forgotten that the bastard hurt Ginny, Hermione and every other person effected by the Chamber incident and got away with it. Harry snapped his leg back and struck Lucius right in the ribs as a parting shot.

Finally, he joined the Veela, "We should hurry. We don't need to be here if the Ministry arrives."

"I cannot wake her." Her accent was heavy, but he could still understand her. So they have their own magic, but not wanded magics.

"I should be able to, but… I should tell you…they gave her a potion before I could stop them."

"What?" Her eyes snapped to his.

"I didn't recognize it. But it was red, bright red."

She looked stricken, "No."

"What is it?"

"It was Lust Potion. We are taught to avoid them from young age. The longer it is in her system, the vorse it'll be." She explained as she ran a concerned hand through her friend's hair, "She'll be out of control. Her allure vill draw men to her until she has satiated her desire. Your Ministry von't take kindly to it. They'd didn't vant us here anyway. If they are kind, they vill leave her unconscious… if not, they vill kill her."

"Is there something we can do?" She didn't deserve to die because somebody else made it where she couldn't control her actions.

Appraising him once more, she seemed conflicted, "Maybe. Veela innately seek powerful partners. We can sense it in vizards and vitches alike. Someone of significant power vould draw all her attention when she vakes. Her allure vould not be dangerous then. And together they could… burn it out of her system."

"We'll be hard pressed to find someone."

She snorted, and even that had a surprising grace to it, "I'm looking at someone who could do it."

He stared at her wide-eyed, "Me?"

"You are like beacon of magic compared to most," she told him, much to his surprise. Harry knew he was above average amongst those his age for pure magical ability, but he didn't think of himself as exceptional.

"You're having me on!"

"I'm not. Most men vouldn't be sitting here having this conversation with me. My allure seems to roll around you like nothing. It is because you are powerful. If she wakes, she vill focus everything on you to draw you in."

Reaching a hand to his, her eyes were wide and pleading, "She is my closest friend. I vouldn't even suggest it if I thought there was another vay. I know you already saved us once. But please, help her."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. He could save this ethereal, beautiful being by… sleeping with her, by letting her ravage him. Most men would kill to be in his position. And worse yet, it played straight into his desire to help people.

"I… I…" he took a steadying breath, "Where would we even go? Can't exactly just do it here in the middle of the field. The Ministry will arrive eventually." Probably.

She smiled triumphantly at him, "Of course not. They didn't catch us at the stadium, they chased us here. We were celebrating with our countrymen. We came here because our changing room was varded so that only Veela could enter, unless we invited them." It makes sense with their allure. Wouldn't want any unwanted visitors forcing their way into the changing room because they couldn't control themselves.

"Grab her and follow me. I'll show you." She commanded. Harry didn't question her, picking up the woman bridal style and following the swaying hips of the other Veela. He allowed himself a second to appreciate the stunning beauty in front him.

She stood about four inches shorter than his own six foot one. Her pale-gold hair hung down to the middle of her back, her slim waist widened out to womanly hips and a firm, shapely bum. Could probably bounce a galleon coin off that.

There were gorgeous girls at Hogwarts. Susan Bones, Daphne Greengrass, Katie Bell. Merlin Ginny and Hermione too and that's not anywhere near all of them. But they weren't built by nature to be desired.

Outside the stadium, the screaming died down, the chaos finally at its end. But Harry wasn't worried about what was happening outside of the stadium. There was a tense silence as they walked down through a tunnel toward the changing rooms of the Bulgarian mascots. Even this part of the stadium was lavish. The floor was covered in purple carpet, the walls were shining gold.

The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but he couldn't help but feel awkward knowing what was coming. He broke the silence, "What's your name?"

"Orina." She answered.

"Harry," He returned as they came to a door with no handle but that opened at her touch. She led him inside. The room was comfortable, with benches and couches for the Veela to lounge in before and during the game. The Ministry certainly didn't spare any expense, even if they didn't want the Veela here.

He placed the unconscious woman on one of the couches, "And…uh, her name?"

Orina gave him a sympathetic smile, trying to ease some of his discomfort, "Anya." She rubbed his back, and he welcomed the gesture, "How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"She is nineteen. We are creatures of desire but very discretionary about our partners," he understood her meaning. "Vill this be your first time?" He swallowed thickly and nodded, "It vill be quite first time for you both then."

"You'll be staying and…watching?" This was surely the most surreal and incredible situation of his entire life, which was saying something all things considered.

"There is novhere else to go. And no one else to make sure she doesn't hurt you." Orina seemed skeptical that she'd be able to manage that either, but he'd rather some help than none if things went badly.

"Should I… strip?"

"If you vant to keep your clothes in one piece." They shared a brief laugh at that, easing some of the tension in the room.

He pulled his shirt over his head without hesitation. Years of Quidditch and dueling and the physical training that went along with it left him with a toned physique. There was definition in his shoulders, pecks and abs and veins that popped in his arms. Muggles would call it a swimmers build, though his lower body was more powerfully built.

Finally tired of the anticipation and knowing full well there was no turning back now, he removed his trousers and pants in a fluid motion. He could feel Orina's eyes taking him in intently. He resisted the urge to cover himself. She's going to be seeing it all either way.

There was desire in those electric eyes when she spoke, voice seductive and low, "My friend is lucky girl for her first time. Seems it's true what they say about powerful wizards." Her words sent a jolt down his spine right to his groin. He'd never been one for wand measuring competitions, but he'd seen enough in the locker room to know he had nothing to be ashamed about.

He fought down his blush, as her attention turned to her friend, "The potion's been in her system for almost half-hour now. When you vake her she will not hesitate."

"No use putting it off." Harry took a steadying breath and pointed his wand at Anya, "Reenervate."

REDACTED

He had no idea how long they were caught up in their carnal lust. He just knew that when he fell asleep it was with Anya laying against his chest, ear pressed to his heart and a finger tracing the jagged scar on his arm from the encounter with the Basilisk. Meanwhile, Orina rested her head against his thigh, tantalizingly close to his soft cock.

He knew there were people very worried about him, but he would settle that in the morning. He just needed to sleep after what'd been the best night of his life. Within minutes, he fell into a deep, restful sleep as good or better than any he experienced in his life… at least at first.

It started with a dull throbbing in his head, just near his scar. While not constant in his life, it did happen often enough that he'd grown accustomed to it over the years. It only became easier when Dumbledore told Harry his suspicions about the reasons behind it. So, at first it didn't even wake him. Unfortunately, that didn't last.

Eventually, that dull throb grew into a piercing pain. Feels like the fucking Basilisk fang all over again. He awoke with a hiss, hand immediately going to his forehead, but he found Anya's already there. She was running her thumb lightly over the lightning bolt shaped scar.

Softly, she soothed him, "Shh… relax. It vill be fine, just let it happen."

"What is going on?" he felt slightly panicked and very confused. His gaze shifted from her to Orina. The latter looked just as concerned as he felt.

"I… am yours now." Anya told him, a light smile on her lips, "A bit of my magic is intertwining with yours. But there is something inside of you, something dark and foreign. It is like parasite."

Ignoring the first bit of shocking information, he focused on the matter at hand, "It's a small piece of Tom Riddle's soul. You might know him as Lord Voldemort. He left it behind almost seventeen years ago when he killed my parents."

That caught her off-guard. But she shook it off quickly, leaning in to kiss his cheek as a show of support, "Such foul magic. Souls shouldn't be played with in such vays." Spasming in pain, every muscle in his neck tightened painfully. It felt like there was liquid seeping from his famous scar. "We Veela are creatures of light, fire, love, lust, and passion. It's ingrained in our magic and souls. My magic is burning away his foul little fragment."

Clearly, there was a great deal about what was happening that he didn't fully understand, but that knowledge alone should have been music to his ears. After all, he'd had numerous conversations with Dumbledore in the last year trying to find a solution for his problem. But the excruciating, blinding pain made it a bit difficult to be grateful.

Touching his forehead, the last thing he remembered before he finally succumbed to the pain was black ichor staining his fingers.

REDACTED

As they exited the room together, he remembered something from the incident the night before, "Anya," she looked to him curiously, "you said that you were mine last night… when you were expelling the Horcrux from my head."

Smiling widely, she responded, "I did because it's true."

"For me, too," Orina added, surprising him. They reached the field and were walking across its wide expanse toward the exits. The sun shone high and clear above them. The unconscious Death Eaters were long gone now.

He did his best to take that information in stride, "And… what does that mean?"

"Nothing bad," Orina assured him. "I told you Veela are very discretionary in our partners. Our allure helps in that regard… mostly. It allows us to weed out men who vouldn't be suitable."

"But when we find someone suitable and lay with them, small part of our magic entwines with theirs providing us certain protections. We have no control over when it happens either," Anya added.

"Protections?"

"It gives us greater control over our allure. Essentially, it becomes balanced with your magic and fixated on you. And we usually try to find men capable of protecting us… vhich you have. So now you'll know if we are ever in danger in future."

"Right…" Nothing too bad yet. "Anything else? Any drawbacks?"

"No drawbacks!" Orina insisted, but pursed her lips in thought, "Or at least there shouldn't be. Though you're more powerful than any man who's ever been entwined, as far as I know. And the circumstances weren't exactly normal either so there might be some differences." She tapped one finger to her lips, "I know in the past there were couples that could feel some ghost of one another's emotions, particularly related to passion or lust. But that shouldn't be any great burden if it happens."

"And we vill take no other lover," Anya told him casually, as though it wasn't massive news. "Though after last night, I can't imagine I would ever want to. And to think it was only your first time." She gave him a wide, dreamy grin.

Harry stared at her wide-eyed. Orina noticed his reaction and pinched Orina making her yelp, "What she said is true, but it doesn't work both vays. Our magic works hard to find acceptable partner, it rejects any other once it's managed it."

While he enjoyed their incredible night, and morning, of passion, he barely knew the two women. There were girls he knew and cared about and fancied.

"I… are we married then?" When he chose to help Anya, this isn't what he'd expected to say the least. They came to halt as they reached the stadium's exit.

"No, but we are entwined," she brought a hand to his neck and rubbed it soothingly. "You are powerful, more powerful than anyone I've encountered. If we took you back to Veela conclave you may take half dozen more lovers or more. We're discretionary, as I said. So, it's not unheard of when suitable man is found that he is shared by more than one Veela. It happens very rarely though. Few can handle such things."

Anya pinched his bum, "You would."

He looked to Orina, who shrugged, "She's right."

"Lucky for you we are not jealous by nature. We understand appeal of a powerful wizard… though we are prideful. So, you may find yourself with two needy Veela on your hands if you fuck someone else," Anya added playfully. "No, if there is some girl that you want… have her, love her, marry her even."

"But you are going to be a part of my life either way?" For a split second, he thought of asking if there was any way to break it, but he thought better of it. She did just say they are prideful and there are worse fates than being tied to two gorgeous women.

She nodded confidently, "You'll be surprised what vomen are villing to do when presented vith prospect of a handsome, loving, protective, powerful man. Tell any you vish about us. It von't be problem you are probably imagining."

He'd take her word for it for now. I'll find out for myself eventually. "And you'll be staying in England then?"

"Ya."

"Where will you live? I don't exactly have a place for you." That wasn't entirely true, but until he reached his majority in a year, he didn't have access to any of them thanks to the machinations of others at the end of the last Blood War.

"We have own means. You are still Hogwarts student, ya?" He nodded, "Vhat is nearest village?"

"Hogsmeade."

"We vill move there then."

There was more they'd need to discuss he was sure but that was about as much as he could take all at once. They walked down the path from the stadium back toward the tents. The encampment was largely emptied out, though there were still some people trying to either recover their things or looking through what'd been destroyed. There were many scorch marks on the ground from tents that had burned to ash during the rioting.

"So… where are you from in Bulgaria?" He asked as they emerged from the tree line.

"Our conclave is in Nevystata Forest not far from Bulgaria's southern border with Greece near town of Smolyan. Some 200 of us are hidden from unwelcome visitors by our magic. It's beautiful place, you should visit someday." He smiled at that, he intended to travel in the future, he saw no reason to avoid Bulgaria, "And where are you from?"

"I grew up in Surrey, with my aunt and uncle." He frowned, "Truly unpleasant people but they've been largely indifferent to me over the years. They've always been too afraid to treat me poorly, so we just do whatever we can to stay out of each other's way."

"Why were they afraid?" Anya asked.

"Because of my regular visitors."

"Who?"

"Professor Dumbledore is the first one I remember when I was three, though they happened before that from what I'm told." Harry explained, "He, Professor McGonagall, Remus, quite a few people checked on me regularly to ensure I was being treated well." He chuckled to himself, "Once, my aunt hit me with a frying pan." Both women looked disgusted at that, "She never thought to do it again after Dumbledore found out."

"Any hobbies, Harry?" Orina asked after a brief silence, trying to lighten the mood after that bit of information.

"Flying and dueling mostly," he told them, "I never feel better than when I'm up in the sky or winning a fight."

"Never?" Anya asked, a wicked smile on her lips.

Harry chuckled, heat rising in his cheeks, "Never… until last night anyway."

"We both love to fly," Orina informed him. "It's why we both decided to join mascots for Bulgarian team. We don't play, but we enjoy watching matches. You play quidditch?"

"Seeker, yeah. We'll have to go flying together when we get the chance." That caused both girls to smile. As they neared the area of the encampment where the Weasleys had been, they were charged at by a ruddy great black dog. Oh Sirius! I didn't expect them to bring him along.

Before his godfather got a chance to jump, he spoke sternly, "Padfoot, sit!" Coming up short, Sirius did as commanded, but his tail was wagging happily where he sat. He looked between Harry and his two companions and barked in obvious joy.

A few seconds later, Remus and Arthur came around one of the tents. The second they saw him, they sagged in relief. "Harry! Thank Merlin you're alright. We looked everywhere for you," Remus said. Both men spared a brief look at his companions but didn't say anything about it.

Arthur put a warm hand on his shoulder, "Everyone's been worried sick, can't stop themselves from thinking the worst. Ron and Hermione have been blaming themselves for losing you."

"It wasn't their fault, honestly. It was chaos. I'm just happy to know everyone's alright." And given the way things turned out, I wouldn't have wanted it to go any different.

"Let's get you back to the Burrow, and Molly will get a warm meal in you." At the mention of food, he finally realized just how hungry he actually was. I did plenty to work up an appetite last night. But he wasn't going to just leave Orina and Anya.

"Of course, just let me…"

Orina cut him off before he could finish, "Go Harry, we'll be fine finding our own vay. There's nothing dangerous here anymore."

He wasn't convinced, "If you're sure?"

Both women smiled beatifically at his concern, "We're sure." Orina leaned in and planted a chaste kiss to his cheek, "Thank you, for everything."

On his other side, Anya did the same, "We'll see you soon, Harry."

"I know the Bulgarian contingency set up a station near their camp to help with getting everyone home," Arthur supplied helpfully. With that both women were off, leaving Harry behind with the three other men.

"Seems you had quite the interesting night." Remus said, noticeably trying not to snicker. You don't know the half of it.