B-Day Minus 1130 Hours

"Congratulations, Malfoys," the Veela Leader toasted them with a very fine vintage indeed, straight from the Malfoy cellars. She'd revived the slumping Healer Pomfrey with a terse "Ennervate, Poppy! You wimpy old bat!" and dragged her out of the Infirmary room till Harry and Malfoy were once again presentable.

They'd all gathered in Headmistress's office, after. Harry, though beyond famished, was a tad too loopy to actually nibble on the spread of delectable nosh the elves had laid out.

Malfoy, evidently, was not interested in food. Instead, he nibbled discreetly on the visible bits of Harry: ears, throat and hair in particular, whilst snorting up great huffs of sex-laced Harry-odours.

Harry thought it was most considerate of the three ladies celebrating with them not to mention that.

"Indeed. This is a most excellent and, may I say, a most fortuitous occasion, Harry and Draco," the Headmistress agreed heartily, with the air of a job well done. "Sláinte!"

She raised her flute for the third rapid flurry of Bonding Day congratulatory speeches. Slurped her bubbly mendaciously and assumed a very thoughtful air indeed—even the tartan hat seemed to be mulling. Harry—as an Auror, he possessed a finely honed sense of impending danger—shivered.

"Naturally," McGonagall went on, musing aloud, "now I shall have to be calling upon you both to come here and speak to the Sixth and Seventh Years of it. You know, to add to Poppy's reinstituted Sex Magic lectures. Best to use current examples, what? And likely Care of Creatures, too - given the Veela. Can't be slighting dear old Rubeus, can we?" She bobbed the tartan, satisfied. "Hmm. It will quite make our current assistant instructor's year, if you do come. He's a graduate student, of course, over from Flamel, and working away on his thesis. Concentrating on Pureblood anomalies."


Malfoy was instantly appalled: he jerked up his chin from where it rested lightly against the side of Harry's one ear and went utterly rigid in stance.

"Ew! Fuck, no - I mean to say, Headmistress, you wouldn't!"

"But Draco, dear," McGonagall twinkled, "it all simply lends itself to a perfect teaching opportunity, this Bonding. Why, we've not had a Veela-Wizard event quite like this for at least fifty—"

"Oh, no!" Unspeakable Malfoy stomped his smartly turned-out heel, nearly cracking the flagstone. "Oh, no, no, no, ma'am! That is outside of enough!"

"Oh! Oh-oh, bugger!"

Harry, increasingly lightheaded and a bit wobbly all over, truthfully, gasped aloud—and then chortled helplessly till he was all but bent in half, grasping frantically at his much abused groin. Malfoy had him contained immediately, yanking Harry flush against him to provide a convenient prop.

"Steady, Potter."

"Your face - Merlin, Malfoy!" Harry fell into a second wheezy bout of the giggles. "She's not serious, git! She's joshing you!"

Pale blond eyebrows soared skyward, dubious as anything; Harry paused, mid-grin, seeing that. His dizzy head turned Headmistress's way, ever so slowly. He blinked at her.

"Er…" he said. "You are, aren't you? Minerva?"

"Really, Harry?" The Headmistress chuckled; champagne was indeed the oil of sociable events. "You think I'm not completely serious, do you? Why, only consider the benefits, do. There are so many."

"Potter!" Malfoy bridled a second time, blanching and clutching Harry tight to his taut chest. He fell back a step or three, dragging Harry right along with him. "Professor! Merlin, there's no need to – no call for— the very idea's preposterous! We're not a lesson for schoolchildren, either of you! My sodding gods!"

The headmistress grinned, all Scots guile.

Madame D'Argent went off into peals of unseemly (for her age) laughter, full, rich and far too loud in the confines of the Headmistress's office. Madame Pomfrey only shook her starched cap at them all, dazed. She was a bit pale yet, though the copious lashings of champagne seemed to be effective at taking the brittle edge off.

Harry was glad to see that, yes, but he'd bigger fish to fry. Malfoy, for one, who seemed ready to bolt at a merest pin-fall.

"No, no, of course not, Malfoy," he made haste to assure. "Er – I was only—I mean, it was funny!"

"Whaat? You find that idea amusing, Potter?"

"Now, Malfoy…" Harry decided a little marital influence was justifiable. "Malfoy, would I ever be likely to really agree to such a thing, much less come and gab to little kids the details of our—our—you know," he blushed profusely, shyly examining his toes, "um, Bond?"

"Well…" Malfoy tilted his chin at Harry—a sure sign he was feeling indulgent—but his gaze was very squinty-eyed. "I wouldn't put it past you, Potter. Let's just say that."

"Malfoy," Harry blinked up at him, well aware he looked to be very recently tumbled, as he was, in fact; equally well aware of what salubrious effect that particular look had upon his Permanent Git. "Really, really? Mmm?"


Malfoy clicked his back teeth, shrugging it off. Harry smiled up sweetly as pie and took the liberty of solicitously patting the hand groping his hip.

McGonagall watched them from her station at the Floo hearthrug, eyes bright, lips twitching, but she said not a word more about having them in to lecture a slew of teenagers on the sex acts of Veela. The Veela harridan herself, Harry noticed out of the corner of eye, had meanwhile broken out the brandy and was plying poor Poppy with it. And Poppy looked to be more than ready for a restorative lie-down, the old dear.

Much as he was, at the moment.

Malfoy shuffled a bit, firming his hold upon available Harry-bits. He pursed his lips.

"Hmm…humour, is it? Well, I s'pose in a way it is a—a laughable idea, Potter," he frowned fretfully. "But—no. And that's my last word on it."

"It's not as if I meant it, Malfoy!" Harry protested, a wheedling grin aimed at him. "Not that I was serious a'tall, git. Terrible invasion of our privacy, isn't it? Not to be considered, ever—and then there's the terms of the Veela-Wizarding Treaty of 1810 to remember. No undue publicity. Correct, Madame D'Argent?"

The elder Veela dragged her attentions from poor Pomfrey, swallowed back the very last of the unseemly giggles and narrowed her piercing eyes upon both of them, specifically zeroing in on Harry after a long blink.

"Oh—zat iz very good, 'Arry," she praised, the faint traces of accent slipping through her hastily-donned mask of stern Elderness. "You have indeed been keeping up with your required reading. Well done!" She fluttered her vermillion claws at him and practically beamed her approval. Harry was justifiably proud of himself; lessons recited correctly! "I am that proud of you. You're a fine addition to our ranks, young man."

"Er…well done, Potter," Harry's Bondmate echoed their Leader instantly, but he still seemed a tad antsy. "Good show." Harry petted his twitchy elbow joint, hoping to soothe. "And that's enough. Enough of that subject, at least." Malfoy gave him one last stink-eye and returned his stormy grey regard to McGonagall. "Now, Headmistress, as to the oath-bound sanctity of the Infirmary records kept here at Hogwarts, I know Minister Shacklebolt will be asking for official confirmation. That's all well and good, that, and expected—but, I am afraid we can't ever allow a word of what happened this morning to reach either the papers or the general pub—"

He immediately launched into a listing of the myriad reasons why the Ministry (and hoi polloi) shouldn't be privy to more than the barest bones of their Bonding, citing acts of law as far back as the 1200's.

Points to him, then. Harry smiled to himself, well pleased he'd deftly averted a fit of Malfoy temper.

He tossed back the last of his champagne with a growing sense of exasperation, though. He needed food; that, and he desperately required a nice lie-down very soon, before the post-coital exhaustion knocked him senseless (Malfoy did do terrible things to his rock-steady equilibrium). Most of all, he very much wished to return to that slumberous, satisfied state they'd been entwined in only just this morning. Alone, together.

Forty-eight hours they'd been at it, shagging away like jarvies in heat. Was it only that long? Such a short time, subjectively, and the six weeks before that had been but the blink of an eye in an eon. But there was so much more, still to come. Much to think on; much to anticipate.

"You're a pair of randy, headstrong slyboots, the two of you," Madame D'Argent had chided them earlier, albeit discreetly, whilst Pomfrey lay half-dazed over the arm of a handy visitor's armchair, back in their little room. "But it is much for the best that you are, boys. Had you waited any longer - "

"Told you so, Malfoy!" Harry sent him a triumphant look. "Right, wasn't I? I was! Admit it, git."

"Pfft! Like I'll ever!"

Madame cleared her throat loudly and tapped a toe at them, pointedly.

"Ahem. Boys. As I was saying, I would've suffered some...understandable hesitation in accepting the validity of your Bond, had you actually waited until this morning to consummate. No true Veela will ever be herded about by another's expectations; we are, above all, a very free-thinking Nation, answerable to no other. But that... small…issue has been handled quite, quite thoroughly, I think it's safe to say, and you've satisfied the Wizarding end of the bargain admirably well, simply by showing your noses here this morning. It is witnessed and it is now Law, your Bond. Thoroughly. Me, I anticipate no further difficulties in the offing...do you, Draco? Harry? Either of you? You Wizards are not always as you seem, of course. Complicates matters."

"None, Madame, no," Malfoy stated firmly. He squared his bared shoulders, pink with the trails of Harry's stubby nails. "None, whatsoever. Right, Potter?"

"Right, Malfoy," Harry grinned like a happy crocodile, despite his achy arsehole. "All good. Tip-top."

The Veela Leader clapped her hands, softly. She was not so starchy, now that Harry smelt distinctly of Malfoy. Indeed, most everything in the room smelt of Malfoy! Poor, poor Poppy!

"Then I can only wish the two of you the very best of Bonded lives and a most delightful honeymoon to come, Misters Malfoy," she smiled. "Oh - one more item, which I'll address after you're presentable again. Do not take your leave without that, Malfoys. It's of importance."

…'of importance'.

"Malfoy," he nudged his Veela's ribcage impatiently. "Come on. Leave off Minerva—she'll never allow anyone access to our records and you know it. Now, we need to talk to her—" a quick slant of eyebrows indicated which 'her' he meant, "before we leave."

"Bother," Malfoy huffed, but he came along after Harry's shuffle, only shooting Headmistress one last warning glare before fetching up before D'Argent. "Very well, Potter. As you will."

Harry fidgeted. The Veela Leader was clearly still very much amused by them, apparently. It bugged him.

"Er. Yes? You wanted to say something to us, Ma'am?"

"Ah!" Her features settled into lines of quick understanding. "Yes. This is a most critical advisement, Malfoys. Do not be a stranger to us Veela when it comes to your future family planning, boys. Consult the Nation first, if you will. I know Poppy has some...interesting…theories on that front—far too many—but we've an extensive medical Library to our credit and I myself have bred and borne many a healthy child. And midwived many more."

"Oh?" Malfoy was taken aback; his raised eyebrows practically shouted it. "Does she, now? Theories, you say? And, er, you, too? Er. Super. Er…Potter?" He gave a Harry a little shake, though what he meant by it, Harry wasn't certain. "Something to say?"

"Bridge that chasm when we come to it, thanks ever so," Harry replied hastily, all his nape hairs leaping to the 'danger, danger!' position for the umpteenth time in one excruciatingly lengthy morning. Family planning! What a laugh! That is to say, all his remnants of bodily fur—thanks to those Muggle ape ancestor instincts—was standing straight up and damnably prickly with it. He shuddered, goosepimply all over and showing it, too, more's the pity. "In fact, erm—ah!"

"Potter, just tell her 'thank you'," Malfoy murmured. "And don't fret over it now, git. Now's not the time." The clipped syllables were only for Harry's hearing.

He blushed, his jaw working madly as the phrase 'future family planning' truly sunk in.

"How would it be if—if—let's say we'll call you, Madame." Merlin, family planning! "First, if, ah, ah—if ever—rather than you, or—not Poppy, obviously. Not Veela, right? Wouldn't know enough about it, I s'pose…"

"Potter, spit it out, do." Malfoy advised dryly. "This is painful to listen to."

"Right!" Harry jumped, skin heated to parboiled pink. He twitched. "I mean." Here was a bloody Bludger, right out of left field! There was something about it in his notes…right? Gods, that was weeks ago—he could barely recall how it had been then. "Right, um. That is, ma'am, whenever we manage to come to that point –the point of…of even—"

He'd been so blithe, back at that horrid café, asking after taxes and schooling. He'd not known the half of it, not then.

Harry halted completely, lips parted, croaking incoherently. His mouth just couldn't seem to wrap itself easily 'round the word 'pregnant'. Nor 'expecting', nor 'up the duff'—nor really any phrase indicating the creation and later arrival into the world smaller, blood-related persons directly incubated inside either his or Malfoy's actual bodies. It boggled the mind, the very idea.

"Even so!"

"…Even so?" Malfoy prompted him patiently. "Potter?"

"Ah!" Harry gave it up as bad job, altogether. "Yes, well!" He flung out his hands, flapping them inarticulately, expressing…something polite, he hoped, along the lines of a suitable 'thank you'. "Which I'm sure won't be for a very long time yet!" Shifting a half-step sideways, he grasped his Veela's arm firmly, giving it a little shake. "Will it, Malfoy? No! Didn't think so! Now, um...shall we?" he jerked his chin toward the doorway meaningfully, waggling his brows and furiously blinking in marital Morse code like there was no sodding tomorrow. "Now, please? I'm - I really could use –just now- "

"Breakfast, Potter—and bed. Of course."

Malfoy didn't hesitate, his word law; Harry was quite sure he knew exactly what Harry needed next up. And the git would move heaven and earth to deliver, as always.

The soft rend of magically altered fabric rustled at Malfoy's back; Harry glimpsed the tips of wings curling 'round carefully, just fluttering upon the edge of vision. He sighed, pure relief flowing fast through his veins.


"Immediately, as you wish. Come along then. We're going home." He possessed himself of Harry's arm and folded a hand over it firmly. A long arm resecured itself 'round Harry's waist, tight as Incarcerous. "Well. A good day to you, ladies. Our heartfelt thanks for this. It's been-"


Harry jumped in with an edgewise word as Malfoy stuck his free hand in the Floo pot.

"A useful, lively—Malfoy Manor!"

"—and informative—" Harry jittered, squirming about as the familiar green flames leapt up. He glared at his Veela, tugging him forward. "Er. Helpful."

"Visit," Malfoy snapped at the last, his teeth well in it. "Bonding—appointment. Whatever; we're going now. Best regards, Mesdames."

Wings—wings, closing down tight about the two of them.

Malfoy bent his pale head low over Harry's uptilted one, whispering furiously, even as the green light throbbed, signaling the activation of the spell. "Do stop your ceaseless jabber, Potter—we're standing in the bloody Floo already; I've thrown the powder. Stow it, will you?"

"Bugger!" Harry snorted. "I am not 'jabbering', git—I'm being well-mannered and thanking them politely!" He scowled dark as thunder, yanking his shoulders back far enough so he could screw his nose up at Malfoy's sneery lips. "Isn't that what bloody Malfoys do? Be sodding proper?"

"Oh, Pot—"

The Headmistress's private Floo flared a final green-and-silver flash, shooting sparks. This familiar illumination was even brighter than the usual, sparkling brilliantly upon a throaty rising giggle from a rather inebriated Healer, a knowing feline glint cast ironically upon the sharp features of an esteemed Veela Leader and an equally sharp nod of 'fare-thee-well' from the current Headmistress.

"Good day to you, boys. Clear sailing."

"Happy shagging, ducks!" Pomfrey chuckled, waving them off with her clipboard. "Go at it!"

"Bonne chance, Malfoys. Au revoir."

…And, as well, the Floo light reached as far as the cold stone walls, graced with many a portrait. A painted ex-Potion Master's dry-as-dust smirk was highlighted Slytherin hue- and one much revered ex-Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's speculative oil-and-canvas chuckle came rolling faintly from gilded frame.

Those last mentioned gentlemen, mere portraits they were and not ever again the real article, had had a few choice words prepared for the post-nuptial tea all the same, but—but, the Misters Malfoy and Malfoy were well shot of Hogwarts proper, in a blink and a winking. They'd—Master and Servant, both—never even gotten the chance to wedge their two sickels in, even edgewise or perpendicular.

The fabled Veela 'nesting instinct'—which was utterly dependent upon a proper and successful Bonding, naturally—was already quite decisively installed…and well up and running. Sealed in semen, did any of them but know it.

For it was absolutely sex that steered the ship; sex that had cock pointed, bobbing and wagging like mad, ready to fire away; sex that built Nations and bore fruit after flower. Sex, the imperative. Sex, paramount.

…But it was love which called forth wings.

Case VLA-101, Malfoy-Potter; Closed.

Registered: Permanent Archive, Hogwarts Infirmary, 20XX [Classified]

Medical Staff: Please see Case VLA-101-A & B for further follow-up [Also classified]

A/N: Oi! Hold up a mo', please!

There's a few people I'd like specially to mention here, in closing. First off, I'd absolutely no idea this fic would prove to be something people actually read and followed after-much less that there'd be anticipation for my postings! Blimey! I was bowled over (am still) by the very kind responses and I must truly, really, from my tip to my tail, from my stripey, furry heart, thank you.

Animaven, you are as wonderful as always.

ShantiSmurf, the conversations are/will be, I'm sure, delightful.

Kittiyloveranime, foxtrot 21, greypen, Kris and Aekm14, I wish so desperately I could reach you to reply but I sadly cannot, as ff. net doesn't allow it. But thank you so very much in any case, for sticking by me. I hugs you!

Dazzlexme, dreaminGemini, nikotehfox, bookwork19065, addiena-saffir, lis.n, furious m: thanking you kindly, my dears. You're as kind as they come to an author and this one appreciates it daily. Can't say it enough, ever.

Xx-Pandy-Pocky-xX, ForgottenTales, AcadianProud, truelavender, Cheating Gravity and Makeupholic: you are so sweet, every one of you! I glomps you and squishes! Madly!

Atlantis51, your voice is one I always look forward to hearing in my head: thank you, my dear, for everything.

Windseeker2305 and lilz54, I have to say I look for you both when posting here and when I see those monikers on my screen, I feel as though I'm not sooo bad at this writing gig. You're a tonic, the two of you, like spring always is. Full of lovely stuff. Never stop and…

Thank You, Everyone.