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Chapter 32: Meet The In-Laws

Draco was in a bad mood and he didn't mind sharing. Nobody knew that better than his instructors and fellow trainees. They'd been tiptoeing around him all day and while their hesitation was a bit amusing, it was not enough to jostle him into feeling better. He'd humiliated himself not just last night, but in general by not being able to get over the rape. And then this morning, he'd noticed something strange, gone to the hospital wing, and was informed that his swollen ankles and wrists were due to...retaining water. He wished it was enough to drown in.

"Whatever you did, you better undo it now, Potter," he overheard Pansy hiss to Harry.

"I didn't do anything," Harry whispered back, frustration obvious in every word.

"Then do something," she replied.

"And how would you disband an unruly group at a Weird Sisters concert, Mr. Malfoy?" asked the current Auror instructor of Magical Masses and Messes, interrupting his bout of eavesdropping.

He glared at her. "Incendio," he replied with a snarl. "Burning robes smoke really well and people tend to run."

The Tri-M teacher stared at him, opened her mouth, closed it, and turned to the student beside him. "And your solution, Mr. Thomas?"

Draco dropped his head on the desk and took a nap.

Later in the day he watched the football match Coach Andrews was coaching the trainees through. The idea had started off rocky enough a week ago. The coach had dropped the little black and white ball on the field and all the Wizard-reared had watched to see what it would do. When Coach had kicked it, they had expected it to kick back. But it just-rolled. When it became apparent the ball didn't do anything on its own, they'd immediately grown bored. It took the muggleborn putting together an impromptu match to show that it really was a fun sport, and the Slytherins came to appreciate the physical spirit of the game.

It was as Harry was making a penalty kick that Draco remembered the Weasleys were coming the next day.

Harry scored.

Draco whimpered.

"You're in a mood today, Harry. That nervous about Mum and Dad meeting Malfoy?" Ron asked as they walked to the gates of Hogwarts to meet his parents Sunday afternoon.

Harry shook his head. It wasn't his mood anyone had to worry about. Frustrated by his perceived "weakness," Draco had been a bitch all day Saturday and then Saturday night, he'd disappeared with his Slytherins, appearing at bedtime without a word of explanation. He really had no idea whether the Weasleys were going to meet his bondmate or not.

"You know, fighting Voldemort is looking better and better," he muttered self-pityingly.

"Mum's not that bad."

"Draco is."

"Oh. Well, he was in a bit of a mood yesterday, but that's to be expected. You try lugging around a bludger in your belly all the time. Besides, if the twins are to be believed-and yes, I know how impossible that sounds-Saturday would've been a good day for Mum when she was carrying Ginny. According to them, they did a magical sacrifice so that Mum wouldn't have any more girls."

"Draco's having a boy."

"Draco is a boy. He's bound to have his days of trouble. And quite frankly, Harry, he's Malfoy. What were you expecting?"

God, he hated it when Ron sounded more reasonable than he was. The truth of the matter was that maybe he, too, was a bit frustrated by the aborted attempt Friday night-and he felt like shit that he was frustrated because he was the reason why Draco was scared in the first place. Not to mention Draco hadn't been the only one that night suffering from flashbacks. When Draco had scooted away from beneath him, he'd remembered the same movement from...before.

"I cannot wait until you and Hermione are married, Ron, and I can throw all this advice and wisdom back in your face." He said it with a smile and a jab of his elbow to let Ron know he was joking. "I do appreciate it, though."

Ron shrugged. "It's in the best friend's manual-Thou shall not allow thy friend to climb the walls and make an arse of himself if he hasn't ticked you off lately."

Harry laughed. "And if he has ticked you off?"

"You sell tickets and let him have at it."

They were both still laughing when double cracks alerted them to the Weasleys' arrival.

Molly Weasley crammed her wand into her oversized bag and looked around, breaking into a smile when she saw them. "Arthur, these can't be our boys. Why, they're men!" she exclaimed. "Come here you two and give your mum a hug!"

They rushed over to her and she hugged them both. "Ron, are you ever going to stop growing? We're going to have to raise the ceilings at the Burrow if you keep this up. And, Harry, how handsome you've become. Your young man must be earning his keep."

Harry blushed and Arthur thumped him on the back. "Molly doesn't have a subtle bone in her body, I'm afraid, Harry. Still, you are looking well and happy."

"I am, sir."

"So, will we get to meet this miracle worker?" Molly asked as they started down the path toward the castle.

"He's, uh-well..." He looked at Ron pleadingly.

"He's not just Harry's young man, Mum."

"What? He's being passed around? Shared? What are you saying, Ron?"

"We're married," Harry said quickly. "Actually, we're more than married, we had a binding ceremony." He pulled back his sleeve and revealed the bracelet.

"You're-you're bound, Harry? You can't be bound. We'd know if you've been bound, wouldn't we, Arthur?" She turned to her husband, her face scrunched in confusion.

"He's wearing the bracelet, Molly."

Her countenance cleared and she waggled her finger at him. "One of the twin's inventions, I imagine. You certainly had us going, Harry."

Harry held out his arm. "It's not a fake, Mum Weasley. I am bound and...we're having a baby. He's a Progenitor, you see."

Molly's knees gave away and only Arthur's quick actions kept her from falling. "What are you saying, child?" she panted, her hand clutching her ample bosom.

"Mum, I was at the binding and the baby's pretty obvious once you meet-" Ron stopped, glancing at Harry.

"So, he is here? Of course, he is," Molly corrected herself. "He's your bondmate; where else would he be? And speaking of 'he,' who is he? And don't be thinking I didn't notice you've left that to be said."

Harry ran his hand through his hair, knowing Draco-if Draco made an appearance-would be furious with him for doing so. Harry, your hair is already a rat's nest. Why add to it? I've my fingers crossed this baby has my hair. "My husband is Draco Malfoy. And yes, I know who his parents are and what a brat he used to be. But Magic saw fit to bind us, and he's carrying my child. The past, his and mine, has no bearing on our present or our future. We are together and will remain so until one of us dies." It'd all come out in a rush and it sounded defensive, but he felt he had to make it clear to them before-or if-they met Draco.

Molly's mouth opened and closed. Arthur took advantage of the rare opportunity. "Congratulations, Harry! This is exciting news. Isn't it, Molly?" He nudged her with his elbow.

"Exciting, yes," she parroted, still shaken. "Where are you staying?"

"Professor Dumbledore has graciously given us rooms near the dormitories. Come inside with us. I'm not sure where Draco is at the moment. He's very busy. He tutors and coaches. A great asset the militia, isn't he, Ron?"

Ron nodded, eager to back up his friend. "His father is really pissed-um, sorry, Mum. His father isn't happy about him being with Harry, but Draco is one-hundred percent committed to our side. He doesn't want his father or You-Know-Who to grab his baby or anything."

Arthur frowned. "Do they know about the binding and the child?"

"No," Harry answered. "Only the people here know and Professor Dumbledore has made sure that the secret cannot pass the boundaries of Hogwarts."

"Smart of him," Arthur murmured. "Well, come on, boys, show us this new home of yours."

They walked the Weasleys through the Lower School, showing them the various classrooms before going into the dormitories and the common room. Ron was surprised and a bit worried that Hermione hadn't made an appearance, and he whispered to Harry as they approached the entrance to his and Draco's rooms that he was going to find her. Harry nodded, then just flung the door open and muttered a silent prayer.

"Harry," Draco said, "Hermione and I were wondering when you were going to give our guests a break. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, how nice it is to see you. I'm Draco Malfoy." He held out his hand and Arthur shook it solemnly. Molly just stared at him-and his rounded belly. "Where is Ron off to? Tea is about to be served. Please, come in and have a seat. Harry, would you get Ron?"

Harry, totally bewildered, and quite frankly-scared, called Ron back while Draco escorted the Weasleys to where Hermione stood. He came back in with Ron and saw them having a good hug with their son's girlfriend, then they all sat down to tea. Tarts were served and Draco was a charming host, discussing with Mr. Weasley certain Muggle items he'd heard Coach Andrews talk about and asking Mrs. Weasley about what was needed in a proper nursery.

Harry just knew he'd fallen into another universe. He wondered if this one had a Voldemort, too.

"I hope you don't mind, but I arranged for us to have a private dinner here. Although there are only twenty-seven members of the militia, we can be a noisy bunch," Draco said with a self-deprecating laugh. "And apparently, the castle thought it was an excellent idea and provided a dining room for us." He nodded to a door Harry hadn't seen before. "Harry, if you would escort Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley and Hermione, and Ron, I guess you and I will have to toss to see who escorts whom."

"Well, I'm tallest and not preggers, so..."

Draco laughed. "You have a point, Ron. Escort away, sir."

"Draco?"

"Yes, Harry? And, ooh, that feels so good," Draco purred.

Harry added a knuckle to the sensitive point on Draco's foot. Their guests were gone, Molly insisting she had to get home to start the layette for the baby, and Hermione remembering she and Ron needed to review for tomorrow's lessons. "Your ankles are smaller."

"Mum Weasley gave me something for the swelling. It's amazing what she keeps in that purse of hers."

Mum Weasley? "Draco, do you know who Voldemort is?"

"What an asinine question, Potter. Did you and Weasley stop for a quick drink or three after walking his parents to the gates?"

So, back to the old universe. "You were amazing today."

"Of course I was."

"You made everyone feel so at ease at dinner."

"Madame Puerilis was paid an exorbitant fee to make sure we knew how to properly host a dinner party, Harry. This was child's work, nothing more. Pansy said it made her long for her practice wand and Little Wizard quill."

So that's where the Slytherins had disappeared to yesterday. Harry leaned forward and placed a kiss on Draco's big toe. "Do you know how happy you make me?"

"Falling at my feet sort of gives me a clue," Draco replied. Then he winked. "Help me to bed and you can give me other clues."

"Madam Pomfrey warned me you might go through an insatiable phase."

"It's been two nights since our-difficulty, Harry. It's not insatiability, just plain teenage hormones."

"Just what I said-you're a horny bugger."

"Mrs. Weasley told me that I didn't have to put up with any nonsense while I was pregnant. She gave me a spell to keep you in line, if I had to."

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, she didn't. I was with you the whole time."

"Except when you, Ron, and Mr. Weasley were out in the garden playing on the swing."

"We weren't playing-he was just admiring my transfiguration work."

"Uh huh." Draco got to his feet with a helpful tug from Harry. "Seven children, Harry. She was pregnant a lot. She learned things, things which no man, except maybe other Progenitors, have been taught. Trust me, you don't want to get cheeky with me."

"Yeah?" Harry asked, wrapping his arms around his husband and kissing his neck.

"Yeah."

Harry took out his wand and lit the bedroom as he doused the lights in the living area. "I guess I better listen to your orders, then. No nonsense, hmm?"

Draco's last words before the door closed were, "Well, maybe just a little."

Chapter 33: Tower Of Babel

Harry pointed his wand and silenced the alarm before it could ring. He showered, dressed, then tipped out and sat on the side of the bed next to his still sleeping husband. Although Draco wouldn't admit it, this eighth month was starting to wear on him, and Harry had taken it upon himself to see that Draco got extra rest.

"Draco," he called softly, shaking him just a little. "Time to get up, Draco." There was an indecipherable mutter. Typical. "Out of bed, lazybones. You have wizards and witches to terrorize." A gray eye made a brief appearance before being covered by its lid again. "Come on. Coach is off today, remember? You get to run us ragged without any supervision."

Draco frowned and sat up. With a peculiar look in his eyes, he something in Elven.

"Stop playing around. We need to get to breakfast," Harry said, pulling back the covers.

Draco clutched Harry's arm and uttered more garbled words. With his free hand, he touched his ear.

The panic in the gray eyes assured Harry that this was no game. "Draco, what's wrong? Why aren't you-" Draco shook his head, brushing his fingertips across Harry's throat. Harry got it; not only could he not understand Draco, but Draco couldn't understand him. What the- The pregnancy. Fuck. He wanted to panic, but knew someone had to keep it together for Draco's sake. He peeled Draco's bruising fingers from his arm and grasped his hand to pull him up. "We'll get someone to help us and it'll be okay. Okay?" Draco continued to frown. "We're going to see Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore," he repeated, mimicking the stroking of a long beard. Draco nodded, allowing himself to be pulled out of the room. Harry knew the problem was serious when Draco didn't stop to put on a dressing gown or check his hair.

Hermione, bless her pedantic heart, was already studying in the common room. The crackle of the fireplace, which was always lit no matter the season, gave Harry an idea. "Hermione, fire call Professor Dumbledore right away!"

She took one look at the disheveled Draco and hurried to the fireplace. She threw in a handful of floo powder and called hurriedly, "Professor Dumbledore! Harry and Draco need you!"

A face briefly appeared in the flames. "I'm on my way, dear."

Hermione turned to them. "What's wrong? Is it the baby? Do I need to contact Madam Pomfrey, too?"

"Draco can't speak English. And I don't think he understands it, either."

Her nose wrinkled in consternation. "Draco, do you understand me?" she asked.

He blinked in her direction, then said something that she couldn't understand.

"What is that?" she asked Harry.

"Elven, I think."

She started to ask another question, but Dumbledore hurried in, dressed in an orange and black nightshirt that allowed knobbish knees to poke out.

"Harry? Draco?"

"Professor, he's only speaking in Elven. And he can't understand us," Harry said, feeling the panic well up again now that someone else was in charge.

"Quel amrun, Eärwen. Lle rangwa amin?" Dumbledore said to Draco, and the wizard sagged in relief and nodded. "It appears you are correct, Harry. I just told Draco good morning and asked if he understood me in Elven."

"You speak it?" Harry asked, as relieved as Draco.

"A little. Certainly not with the facility Draco possesses. Let's go to the hospital wing and see if we can't figure out what's going on." He repeated the plan to Draco, who nodded eagerly and was the one tugging on Harry as they headed to Pomfrey's domain. Hermione hurried along behind them, telling Millicent Bulstrode, who'd just stepped into the common room, where they were going.

Draco was having a difficult time sitting still while Pomfrey waved her wand at him. Why didn't they just lock him up and be through with it. They'd warned him that he could go insane. He just didn't know how awful insane was going to be. It would be one thing if it was like he was in a foreign country and couldn't speak the language. But it wasn't like that. It was like Harry and the others weren't speaking-they were just making noise. There was no cadence, no rhythm that suggested they were actually trying to communicate with him. It was gibberish, but worse. Even the monkeys in his father's lab made more sense than the people around him.

And, wow, something was wrong with him, because the memory charm his father had cast when he discovered Draco with the monkeys should have held better.

(Draco?) He turned to the headmaster, the only one he could understand although his intonation was shit. He was also the only one who didn't make his head hurt. (Draco, Poppy can't find anything physically wrong with you.)

Surprise, surprise. (So, I've gone mental, then?)

(It may be stress-related. She wants to give you a sleeping draught. Maybe things will be back to normal when you wake.)

Maybe the sleep would ease his headache. (Okay. Will you tell Harry what's going on? He needs to get to class.) Pomfrey had shooed Harry into the hallway soon after they'd arrived.

(He'll want to see you before he goes.)

Draco reluctantly nodded. (Tell him not to speak. The words hurt my head.)

(I'll tell him.)

Draco had already downed the sleeping potion and become drowsy by the time Harry came in. Dumbledore must have passed on his request, because Harry didn't say anything. He just leaned over and kissed him.

Draco fell asleep to the feel of Harry stroking his hair.

He woke to the sound of someone crying.

He groaned and sat up, looking around to see who had been hurt during training. Did Longbottom have Potions today? Or had Tracy transfigured her ring into a two-edged blade and sliced her finger off again? No matter who it was, maybe a glare from him would make the crybaby shut up and he could go back to sleep.

The hospital ward was empty.

A nightmare then. He sighed and lay back down.

There was more crying.

He pulled the pillow over his head.

Help me, Father! Mother! So scared. So scared.

Draco whimpered along with the voice. The voice that was apparently in his head.

Run from the bad things. Run, run!

Trees. Draco saw trees and heard-galloping?

They're going to eat me. Hide. Must hide.

Draco sat up on the edge of the bed. Had he really gone this barmy so quick? Or could the voice be real? It was obviously a child's voice. A frightened child-and frightened little wizards could do all sorts of things. Look at what his own child was capable of and he was still in the womb.

No die, no die, no die...

Not even aware of what he'd done, Draco found himself standing outside Hogwarts and facing the Forbidden Forest. Frowning at his bare feet, he started to turn around, but there was distant gibberish behind him, which might mean being hexed back into bed, so he just went forward and hoped for the best.

"Harry!"

Harry jumped to his feet as soon as Madam Pomfrey burst into the Arms Charms classroom, knowing without a doubt that something had happened to Draco. "What is it? What's happened?"

"He's gone into the forest, Harry. I tried to stop him, but my spells-they just bounced right off him."

He hurried her down the hall, the rest of the class right behind them. "Did he say anything?"

She shook her head. "But I wouldn't have understood him anyway."

"Where's Professor Dumbledore?"

"Order business. He thought it was safe to leave. Draco should have slept through the night. I gave him enough sleeping draught to last straight through till dawn. Oh, Harry, he's still in his nightclothes and everything."

"Did you see which way he went?" Harry asked as they ran outside. The sky was gray and overcast. He shivered as he thought about Draco out there, alone and half-dressed. Please, don't let it rain, he prayed silently.

"That way. I tried to put a tracking spell on him, but he threw that off, too."

Harry nodded and scanned the edge of the forest. He looked around and saw all the trainees were outside now. They must have heard them running down the hall. "All right. I want you to break up into teams of five. Each group needs to have at least one former Slytherin. He may respond better to one of his friends. If you find him, don't approach if he looks like he's going to bolt. Just signal with your wand and try to keep him contained. Be careful. We want to find him, but we don't want to lead anything else to him while we're at it.

"Crabbe, Goyle, Hermione, and Ron, you're with me. The rest of you, go!" Harry looked at his chosen group and rolled up his sleeve to expose his binding bracelet. "Hermione, help me figure out how to work this thing."

"Just think of Draco," Goyle advised softly.

Harry nodded, ashamed that he'd just picked Goyle and Crabbe because they were big and familiar to Draco. He closed his eyes and focused. When he opened them, he knew where Draco was. "Come on!"

"Manke naa lle, hin?" Where are you, child?

Draco was tired. His feet hurt and his nightshirt was torn and dirty. God, he hated the Forbidden Forest. And if he was out here chasing a phantom his mind had conjured up, he was going to be royally pissed.

"Tua amin, Ohtar!" Help me, Warrior!

"Tula sinome, edhelelle." Come here, little elf.

A bush shook and out from beneath it crawled a young Elven boy. He reached out to help him and he climbed into his arms, shivering and crying.

(It's all right, child. You've been found now. It's all right, little one.) He rubbed his back as he spoke, disturbed by how hard his heart was beating through his thin skin. (Come, I will take you back to the castle and we will find your parents. Can you tell me your name?)

The child just continued to sob.

(Oh, well, you can tell me later. Let's just get out of this scary forest for now. That sounds like a good idea, doesn't it?) He looked around, hoping he remembered the way he'd come. He saw the broken branches of his trail-and a centaur standing directly in the middle of it.

God, he hated this forest.

Harry held up his hand and the others stopped. They listened for a minute and Harry looked at Ron.

Ron nodded. "Centaurs." The galloping sound was unmistakable.

"Shit." Harry started forward again, moving even faster.

Draco clutched the child in his arms and started backing up slowly. The centaur grinned and started walking forward just as slowly.

Draco bumped against a tree and turned to see where he was going. Another centaur stared back him. This one spoke when he saw he had Draco's attention.

"They told of you, you who are not all one, but mainly another. You will die or you will not."

"Either way, old wounds heal," the other centaur said.

Draco's headache, which had disappeared, came back in a rush. "Am I supposed to understand what you're on about?" he asked dryly.

"Your truths are lies. You know, but you don't know. Change is good, if not bad. Even the stars cannot decide. Only you."

"There's a reason I quit Divination," Draco muttered. "My decision is to get the hell away from you. So if you don't mind..."

"Draco!"

Draco had never heard a yell that sounded so good. "Harry! I'm over here!" He turned toward a crashing sound and saw his husband running toward him. "Harry, watch out for-" He looked around. The centaurs had disappeared.

"Draco." Harry was beside him with his wand drawn.

"They're gone," he said and whispered it again to the head upon his chest. (The centaurs are gone, little one, and my husband, who is a great warrior, is here to protect us.) He looked up at Harry. "Centaurs were here."

Harry nodded. "We heard them. Are you okay? Who is your friend?"

"The centaurs were chasing him. He hasn't told me his name." He shifted the child so that he could see his eyes. (What is your name? I wish to introduce you.)

(Hidan, my lord.)

"Harry, this is Hidan."

"Hello, Hidan."

(My husband gives his greetings, Hidan. May I present to you the great warrior of the Wizards, Harry Potter.)

"Saesa omentien lle, belegohtar Morwen Tinehtele." Pleasure meeting you, mighty warrior Harry Potter.

Harry smiled as if he understood what the young elf said.

"Harry, we should, um, be leaving," Weasley said.

"Right. Come on, Draco."

Draco took a step and stumbled.

Harry grabbed his arm. "What's wrong?" He looked him over from head to toe. "Shit, you don't have on any shoes. Your feet must be a mess. Hermione!"

"Centaurs aren't the only things in this forest," Weasley reminded them nervously.

"Don't worry about it, Weasley," Pansy said as she and her team joined them. "We won't let the creepy crawlies get you."

"What if you are the creepy crawlies?" he retorted.

"Don't start, Ron," Harry warned.

"Sorry, Harry, but you know what I'm talking about."

"I know, but Draco can't walk."

"Over here, Harry."

They looked over to where Hermione had conjured a simple but sturdy sedan chair. Draco and Hidan were loaded into it, and Draco felt so grateful that he told Granger thank you without a prompt from Harry. Not only were his feet cut and bruised, but he was completely spent. Greg and Vince picked up the poles with ease and they started out of the forest. He looked around as others started falling in line. All of the militia had come to his rescue?

"Hey, Draco?"

"Yes, Harry?" He looked out the open window of his chair. Harry walked within touching distance. His wand was still out and Draco knew he was on high alert.

"You're speaking and understanding English again."

Draco smiled and relaxed into the gentle sway of his ride. He wasn't crazy. Harry and his friends had come after him and were now protecting him. The little elf who had invaded his head (apparently little elves had wild magic like little wizards) was safe and more importantly, quiet. The sky was a bit cloudy when they came out of the forest, but it wasn't raining. And- "Everyone gets full marks for physical training today."

"Are you sure you didn't fall and hit your head?" Harry teased with a grin.

Draco grinned back and reached out for Harry. Hand in hand, they made it safely back to Hogwarts.

Chapter 34: A Long And Tragic Tale

Harry looked at the pair asleep on the bed and was grateful for the look into a future he might not live to see. Except for the ears, Hidan could easily be Draco's son. The silvery hair. The pointed features. The look of disdain when Pomfrey had approached with a bubbling goblet of potion... Harry grinned at that thought. He'd watched anxiously as Hidan had screwed up his face for one hissy of a tantrum (he'd seen the expression enough on Dudley's face), but before the explosion could occur, Draco had whispered something in Elven and took the child's hand. The boy had quietly submitted to the indignities of having his light injuries taken care of, and returned the favor by holding Draco's hand while the nurse healed his feet and scratches. Now the two slept and Harry kept watch. It made him feel good, seeing what kind of father Draco was going to be. He'd been afraid that between the two of them, they were going to suck as parents for a really long time. Now he knew that no matter what, their son was going to have a hell of a dad.

"Harry."

He turned to see Dumbledore enter the room with two adult elves. They were both slim, but the male had hair that had a purple cast to it, while the female's hair was the same as Hidan's and Draco's. Hidan's parents, by the way they only seemed to have eyes for their son. He took a moment to catalog their white, gold-trimmed robes, thinking that maybe he knew what to get Draco for Christmas.

"Hi, Professor. Hidan's parents? Tell them that Madam Pomfrey says that he's fine-just tired from his adventure."

"We speak your language, wizard," the male elf said. "Is this the one who rescued our son?"

Harry rolled his eyes. If the elf thought he was impressing him with his haughty attitude, he was wrong. After all, Harry was married to a Malfoy. "Yes, he faced great danger to save him."

"The Headmaster says that Hidan mentally spoke to this one?"

Gray eyes opened. "He did, and this one has a name-one I'm sure the Headmaster has already shared with you," Draco added dryly and Harry grinned. This was going to be interesting.

With an elegant turn of his head, Draco dismissed the adult elves and looked down at Hidan. He shook the boy gently and Harry could tell he was encouraging him to wake in fluent Elven. The two older elves stared at him, breaking their stupor only when Hidan almost literally flew into his father's arms. There was a flood of quick Elven among the four of them and Harry noticed that even Dumbledore seemed to have trouble following it. He decided the best way to keep up with what was going on was by watching Draco's eyes. There was some annoyance, a brief flash of confusion, but no anger. Having experienced the Elves' contempt for wizards, he knew the situation could be a lot worse.

Finally, there was a pause in the conversation and Draco held out his hand to Harry. "Anigon and Norna of the Royal Family of the Kherin, I present to you my mate, Harry Potter. Harry, I present to you, High Lord Anigon and Princess Norna of the Kherin, also known as the noble House of the Gray Elf. You already know their son, Prince Hidan."

Princess? Prince? Harry didn't know how long he would've stood there with his mouth hanging open if Draco hadn't immediately pinched him and hissed, "Bow."

Harry followed Draco's orders. "It's an honor to meet you," he remembered to say.

"It is you who honor us by participating in the rescue of our son," Princess Norna replied. "If you do not find it too rude, we would take our leave now. There are others who are eager to see the well-being of our Hidan."

"Of course," Dumbledore said. "If you permit me, I will escort to a point where you can safely open a portal back to your realm."

They nodded regally and after a long, lingering look at Draco, left with a final farewell from Hidan called over his father's shoulder. "No matter what his parents think, you've got a fan, Draco," Harry said with a grin. Then he sobered. "What do his parents think? I've seen Hedwig appear more grateful for a bacon scrap than they did for the rescue of their son."

Draco shrugged. "By nature, Gray Elves are a bit reserved and snobbish, often considering other elves socially beneath them. Even before the schism in '55, wizards didn't rank very high with them. In fact, I'm not sure we rank at all. In terms of inherent magical power, we're just a step-mind you, it's a very big step-above squibs and muggles. That actual royals deigned to come here themselves, and not send a representative, shows how much they care for Hidan."

"He's their son!"

"If I'd been the lost one, I couldn't see my parents reacting much differently."

Harry shook his head. "No wonder you can speak their language so well. They're just like you."

This time Draco was the one shaking his head, a hand curved around his stomach. "If our son gets lost, I can guarantee you won't find anything reserved about me. Now let's get out of here. Where are my clothes?"

"In our room-and you don't need them to get there. Madam Pomfrey said-"

Draco waved off the rest of the sentence. "It's time for dinner and I need some chutney. If you want me to wear a hospital gown to the Dining Hall..."

Harry sighed. "I'll go get your clothes. But you have to promise me that you'll go to bed right after dinner."

"Nonsense, I just woke from a nap. How about a compromise? The sofa in the common room."

"Deal," Harry said quickly, before Draco realized that if he sat on the sofa, he was stuck there until Harry helped him up.

Which he wasn't going to do until Draco was ready to go to bed.

"Do you want to lie in this morning? I could get one of the house-elves to bring you breakfast."

Draco blinked up at a completely dressed Harry. Damn, it must really be morning and not some sick joke. He groaned and reached for the hand that was automatically extended in his direction. He pulled himself into a sitting position and flexed his toes. Well, he felt them flex anyway; it'd been some while since he'd actually seen them. "I'm fine, Harry. Just give me a few minutes to get ready." There was an arithmancy equation that could reduce three hours into minutes, right? Because, damn he was stiff! Maybe he should take Harry up on his offer of breakfast in bed. No, that would start something he didn't want. It was already bad enough his wand had been taken away and his tutoring sessions minimized. Did he really want to be treated as a bedfast invalid?

His shower helped a lot and by the time they reached the Dining Hall, the aches and pains and creaking bones had eased considerably. He straightened his shoulders and walked into the hall.

"Oooh, look, everybody. It's the Incredible Slythindor," Blaise called with a grin.

Draco groaned. Last night his Slytherins friends had teased him about becoming an heroic Gryffindor-"This time cuddly children, what next, Draco? Ickle kitty in a tree?" When he'd threatened to give them all failures in physical training for the next week, they'd declared that he still had Slytherin in his blood, thus he was a "Slythindor." Although he thought the sobriquet clever, he wasn't about to let them get away with the teasing. "Laps, Zabini. So many laps that you will recognize each tree you go by how many leaves have fallen in your many passes."

"Cranky this morning, are we? Potter, you must not be doing your husbandly duties properly."

Well, that stung, even though Zabini had no idea how much. Still... "Harry, your wand."

Harry shook his head. "No, Draco, this one's on me." Harry pulled his wand and muttered a curse. Zabini's morning oatmeal dripped from his head; Draco hoped that it was still hot. Zabini's subsequent scream was immensely satisfying.

Before there could be any attempts at retaliation, and probably a full-out food fight, a single owl winging through the doors stopped everything. Although they'd had seven years of them, they'd quickly grown use to not having breakfast owls. This had to be something important. The owl fluttered in front of Draco, sticking out its note-laden leg.

Draco removed the note reluctantly and opened it. "It's from Professor Dumbledore. He wants to see me in his office. Harry, he says you can come along, too."

"Is something wrong?" Pansy asked.

Draco shrugged. "Probably something about yesterday's rescue. Who knows? Maybe the elves think I had something to do with Hidan's disappearance in the first place."

"Draco!" Harry said sharply. "What makes you think that? You didn't say anything about that before."

"Its' just a guess, Harry. You saw how they stared at me yesterday. And they asked some...interesting questions."

"Questions like what?"

"Who my father is." A Death Eater who worked for a mad man whose son had just happened to stumble upon a lost elven child. Who wouldn't be suspicious?

"Fuck," Harry replied softly.

Draco nodded, seeing the concerned faces of the rest of the militia. "It'll be okay. The elves just probably need to question me further, use their form of veritaserum or something."

"They're not doing a thing to you without Pomfrey or Snape present, damn it," Harry muttered.

Blaise stood and placed his hand on Draco's. "If the elves want a fucking war, we'll give them one. Just say the word, Draco."

The other Slytherins added their hands on top of Blaise and Draco's. Harry put his there and so did everyone else. With a solemn nod, Draco and Harry left for Dumbledore's office, knowing they had colleagues, friends, who had their backs. No matter what.

Or who.

Draco was nervous as they neared Dumbledore's office. He'd studied elves. He knew their strengths (so very powerful) and their weaknesses (so very few). He also knew he was innocent of any wrongdoing, but, God, his father was one of Voldemort's minions... Was he going to have to fight against that in two realms? Why the hell hadn't Lucius thought about his future progeny's reputations when he got involved with the fucker? Damn it!

"You okay?"

He figured his anger had him flushing and attracting Harry's attention. "I'm fine. Just mentally skewering my father on a hot poker."

"Need some help with that?"

Draco gave him a grim smile. "Gee, if only I were Harry Potter's son, then I wouldn't have to deal with this shit."

"First, ewww! We do things in bed, you know," Harry replied with amused disgust. "And second, it's just as hard to be the son of a good guy, trust me. I'm always getting compared to my dad and it's quite uncomfortable."

"Let's make a pact, then. We're going to let this little one be whoever the hell he wants to be-within the bounds of good taste, of course."

Harry snickered. "Of course."

They were in considerably better spirits by the time they rode up the moving staircase. For Draco the feeling did not last long. As soon as they stepped into the office and he saw the woman standing next to Dumbledore, he knew there was something far more wrong than a kidnapping investigation.

"Draco?" Harry asked when Draco stopped in the middle of a step forward.

"Kneel," Draco hissed quickly. Harry knee had started to bend before Draco realized, "Help me down, Harry."

"Why are we down here?" Harry whispered as he assisted Draco to one knee.

"She-her-it's-she's the queen, Harry, the queen of the elves!" He hated that his voice quivered, but, hell, the queen hadn't left the elf realm since the late 1700's. If she was here now... He gulped anxiously and surreptitiously eyed the woman standing beside Dumbledore. She looked like she was just a bit older than his parents, but he knew for a fact she was well over a thousand years old. Her royal robes were silver, shot with gold. Her hair was silver as well, and her eyes-eyes which were watching him watch her-were a startling violet. He blushed and looked back at the floor.

Dumbledore cleared his throat before speaking. "Queen Arelia, may I present to you Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. Draco, Harry, this is her majesty Queen Arelia, Queen Regnant of the Kherin, Ruling Monarch of the Elven Realm, and Commander-In-Chief of the Combined Armies of the Five Original Realms of Magic."

The queen looked amused at the recitation of her titles. "Rise, children. We have much to discuss."

Harry helped Draco up and they discovered four chairs placed around a tea set near Dumbledore's desk. When everyone had been served, Queen Arelia touched the long tip of her ear and winked. "Fear not, children, for I can hear the rapid beats of your hearts. The reason I am here you cannot suspect, but I mean no harm. Please note that I am authorizing you to speak freely in my presence. This is not state business and protocol has no purpose here."

"Is it to do with Hidan? He is well?" Draco asked cautiously.

She smiled. "Very well. It is good that you were near to hear his cries for help. It is a royal family trait we are all proud of, the ability to mindcall to our kin when we are in trouble. No, I am not here to speak of Hidan, although he did tell me to make sure you come to visit him, because he will not be allowed to even mention the word 'portal' until he is quite older, and I do mean quite."

"Why are you here, then?" Harry asked and Draco goggled at his boldness. His muggle rearing was so obvious.

"To impart a long and tragic tale not known in your realm." She turned to Draco. "Cormlle naa tanya tel'raa, astalder." Your heart is that of the lion, valiant one.

Draco smiled. She was almost correct-his heart belonged to a lion. He saved that thought to ponder later. "Diola lle." Thank you. He sobered and asked, "Naa rashwe?" Is there trouble?

She shook her head and switched back to English. "Your Headmaster said you were an apt student of our language and ways. These will be comforts to you in the future."

Draco and Harry shared a glance. That didn't sound too cheerful, did it? Then again, she'd said her tale was tragic. "Please, your majesty, just tell us," Draco said softly.

She put down her cup. "Once upon a time the elves held great respect for wizards. Although your magics were somewhat elementary, you showed wisdom and intelligence in your use of them. You showed wisdom and intelligence in all your actions, which cannot be said of the trolls, orcs, and other assorted races we often have to deal with. We traded freely, shared what knowledge we thought you could comprehend. When you need assistance, we gave what we could. It was an harmonious existence. But one day, my daughter disappeared, along with a wizard who was traveling in our lands. He was traced back to this realm, but was soon lost. I sought the cooperation of the wizards in tracking this man, but I was told he didn't exist and that perhaps my daughter had wanted to disappear with him. But Thisala wasn't like that. She was quite settled in her maidenly ways, often telling me that she would settle with a mate when she found one worthy of her. I knew she would not go off following her heart without thought. The wizards, in their immense wisdom, decided to ignore my mother's instinct. I grew angry and demanded the expulsion of every wizard from the realms I commanded and called back all elves from the human realm. Alas, it was not a very 'queenly' act, but motherhood is far more a calling than a throne.

"Ten months later, my daughter returned in a very poor state. She spoke of being kidnapped and held in a place concealed by dark magics. She spoke of rapes and an eventual pregnancy. She spoke of coming to term with only the wizard who had assaulted her in attendance, of having him take her child and leaving her alone and bleeding on the cold floor of her prison. She spoke of the strength that motherhood gave her, strength that allowed her to make it back to her home realm so that her family could help her retrieve her son. Alas, we had no better luck finding her child than we had finding her. We monitored your realm constantly and years later we finally sensed the existence of one with royal elven blood. Thisala was beside herself with joy. She went to her son. A son who rejected her in the bitterest of manners, a son whose heart had been hardened against her, turned black with hatred. Thisala returned to the realm, heartsick and broken. She died in the bed she'd grown up in, the vial of poison she'd taken still clutched in her hand."

Draco gasped. Suicide was virtually unknown with elves. It was considered a human folly.

"You have her coloring."

Draco frowned, looked at Harry, then looked back at the queen. "Excuse me, your majesty?"

"Her eyes were silver as her father's. You inherited that and, of course, the hair. There hasn't been a child born into the royal family without our fair hair in at least ten generations."

He saw the sadness in Dumbledore's eyes and thought he understood. The queen's grief was making her confused. "I'm sorry, your majesty," he said kindly, "I'm not your grandson."

She smiled and reached out her hand to him. "I know that, young one. Thisala wrote of her son in the note she left beside her bed. His name was not Draco...but Lucius."