Meetings and Partings
You can find more of this on by SubscribeStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it’s posted past FwB2 Ch. 30 there. You can find the same on my new Patreon (via Discord per their ToS), under /WildErotica. The DISCORD is at https://discord.gg/N9yDASt6Cw . If you prefer direct links, go to my Discord and follow the ‘links in general’ section to find the ones you want. All of my fics are well ahead of what I post here, often 10-30 chapters ahead.
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Chap. 26: Meetings and Partings
Harry leaned down to kiss Fleur and Romilda, who was helping her with the dishes, as he added his own breakfast plate to the stack. “So what’s on the agenda today? Are we relaxing again, or…?”
Fleur shook her silvery-blonde hair with a smile, and looked away, “’Ermione ‘as already taken Pansy into town on zhe Knight Bus. I believe zhey are going ‘book ‘unting’… zhe said they might make a trip to Diagon Alley as well. To ‘build morale’, but alzo to get more books for your library.”
“Her library, your library,” Harry chuckled, shaking his head, “You three will probably use it more than I ever will. I like reading just fine, but…”
“Yes,” Fleur giggled as she stood on her toes to kiss his jawline this time, “You are a man of action, we know. Ah… there was a post, from Kinglsey, when I woke this morning. Eet is on zhe mantle of your study.”
“Oh, thanks, love,” Harry replied, his eyebrows raised, “I wonder why he didn’t just Floo over, or even call.”
“I zhink you will figure it out,” Fleur chuckled, as he gave both of the girls a wave and left the kitchen. He suspected his twenty-odd guests had eaten an hour before or so given the pile of dishes waiting for (probably, he suspected), Winky to finish once Fleur and Romilda were done with the family’s. He hadn’t really slept in by some standards, but Harry was quite used to waking up before nine-fifteen, when he had this morning.
It was weird. Strange, weird, but still good, Harry decided, that he felt relaxed enough lately to sleep in. There hadn’t been nightmares in ages, and having his lovely ladies around was certainly conducive to being relaxed before going to sleep.
Getting a few cat-naps on the roof, however, was less so. It hadn’t been uncomfortable, not with the arming and cushioning charms. Mostly, he had felt nervous with Kennedy snuggled up against him.
Because he thought, well.. that it shouldn’t have been that comfortable. He shouldn’t have enjoyed it. She was a rape victim, a kidnapping victim, a rescued hostage, and probably riddled with trauma even he couldn’t dream of… but it had still felt good, and Harry couldn’t help but feel guilty over it.
It was silly, of course, that he even should. It wasn’t like he’d put the moves on her, even if they’d had a frank discussion about sex in broad strokes. In fact, he’d specifically said quite the opposite: That he was trying to avoid anything of the sort. And she’d definitely been holding on to him, and basically implied that she didn’t want him to leave… and that she didn’t want to go down to her room, either.
Harry shook his head. He wasn’t interested in Kennedy. She was, as she had said, unwilling to even entertain being in a relationship, anyway, and it wasn’t like he lacked for female companionship. Yes, having her in his arms was nice… but having most women in his arms was nice.
Right?
Harry found the letter from Kinglsey Shacklebolt right where Fleur had said it was, and turned it over twice. Ah. Official, then, that’s why… The letter was written in a neat hand that Harry knew was not Kingsley’s own: Neat, but sloppier than the kind Auror’s by far, closer to Harry’s own than Hermione’s near-perfect script.
Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror Division, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Ministry of Magic, United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.
To: Mr. Harry J. Potter, ADDRESS WITHHELD
The letter itself was not long, just a few short paragraphs, but it very much emphasized that the correspondence was anything but a friendly call, or even related to Order business.
Mr. H. J. Potter, of ADDRESS WITHHELD,
The Auror Division of the D.M.L.E. (Department of Magical Law Enforcement) is writing to extend their appreciation for the timely intervention, notice, and real assistance in the matter with which you are aware, which occurred at ADDRESS WITHHELD: PENDING INVESTIGATION, in the month of DATE WITHHELD.
It is far too rare that the people of our nation are both willing and able to rise to their own defense, much less the defense of others. Having been made aware of the circumstances of person(s) being illegally ALLEGEDLY held, restrained, and ALLEGEDLY SUBJECTED to VARIOUS TORTURES of a physical, psychological, magical, and sexual nature, you and others quickly acted to secure the release of said individuals, remanding them to a place of safety and security where they might be allowed to recover as best they are able.
Thus, the Auror Division wishes to extend their thanks to you in an official capacity. Your actions have been deemed worthy of your application to receive an award for: Order of Merlin, Second Class. This application has already been submitted on your behalf through an anonymous source, which was not the Auror Division itself.
In addition, please read and sign the following document (included), which pertains directly to matters involved thing NAME REDACTED events at ADDRESS WITHHELD on DATE WITHHELD, and return it to a duly-appointed agent of the Auror Division at your earliest opportunity.
-- Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror Division, D.M.L.E.
That wasn’t all, of course. The moment he finished skimming Kingsley’s official signature (the name, not even the title, was the only part of the letter written in his own hand), another page slid down from seemingly inside the first, presenting itself for his perusal.
Mr. H. J. Potter,
The Auror Department wishes to extend their thanks and appreciation for housing several of the hostages you and your associates helped to rescue on DATE REDACTED.
Harry frowned. Another hand entirely, this one seemed perhaps typed, but not quite that neat.
While your continued support and willingness to assist those in need is appreciated, room has been arranged for to house the remaining victims at ADDRESS WITHHELD and ADDRESS WITHHELD.
As such, Aurors and Healers specializing in Special Victims such as those you currently house will be calling at or about [10.05 AM on this date] to collect and transport the ALLEGED victims to those safe and secure locations. Your continuing cooperation is appreciated.
--Rufus Scrimgeour, Head Auror, Auror Division, D.M.L.E.
And finally, when that letter had been read, a third and final scrap, torn off a larger sheet of parchment by the look of it, fell into Harry’s hands, this time written in Kingsley’s own handwriting. Short and sweet, it read, Sorry about the late notice, Harry. Scrimgeour’s been upset a ‘civvie, no matter how useful’ had to take care of all those ladies since they first arrived at your place. We’ve hurried as fast as we could to get places set up for them, but this was still earlier than we expected. We’ll be there soon. -Shack
Harry sighed, and folded up the three pieces of parchment on his desk. “That’s it, then,” he told the empty room, “They’ll be gone in an hour or two.”
While he was glad the ladies would be getting treatment and care far beyond what he could provide (he hoped, anyway), knowing they would be gone soon left him feeling strangely hollow, and in a way that Harry simply could not pinpoint the reason for.
Of course, he was still dwelling on that when the strange sense of his home that Harry was starting to suspect was the defensive spells around the property alerting him to the presence of others inside. Many others, some of which weren’t cleared.
Unlike Susan Bones’ house, however, Harry’s property did not immediately launch an attack. Not yet, anyway, though his own hackles rose before he shoved the sudden anxiety and fight-or-flight reflex down where it belonged: Not at the forefront. “Lilith? Is that Kingsley, and a bunch of other Aurors and Healers?”
The response was fast, though it still took a few seconds as he felt the faintest trickle of energy drawn across their bond as she activated a few powers, probably Shadowstep, and Invisibility.
“I think so, Master. I recognize Shacklebolt, at least. There’s… ah… eighteen total people, eight Aurors and ten people in teal robes with crossed wands. Isn’t that what that Tonks woman wore?”
Harry nodded to himself, and sent back, “Yes, that’s St. Mungo’s symbol, I think, or maybe just for Healers. Let them in, but I’m going to have a talk with whoever’s in charge about just barging into the property like that. They could’ve at least asked, or gone to the designated Apparition Point.”
He had worked up a colossal frown as he stepped out the front door onto the wide porch that overlooked the circular drive and wide grass lawn at the front edge of the hilltop property. As Lilith had said, there were eighteen witches and wizards there, more the former than the latter, though the Aurors were skewed a bit more in the other direction, with five wizards and three witches among their number, Kingsley included. Lilith was visible now, off to the side in her guise as Lilian Vergot, standing with her arms crossed as she flanked the bottom of the stairs to the porch, glaring at a scruffy man with a thick mane of graying yellow hair and piercing, golden eyes that reminded Harry both of Madame Hooch, and an aging lion.
He looked, and Harry sensed through his empathy the same emotion, frustrated and annoyed at being held up by someone he clearly thought of as unworthy of his time. Harry snorted and shook his head as he resumed walking. That person, whoever it was, clearly didn’t know who he was dealing with. He wore the robes of an Auror with a badge similar to Kingsley’s, only with a chevron over the top flanked by two stars. Is that… the Head Auror, then? Scrimgeour, or whatever his name was?
As he stepped onto the stairs, the other man, and after him the remaining Aurors and Healers, all turned to face Harry. Kingsley alone looked anything but annoyed: he looked amused, as if he’d expected to be held up. Perhaps, given his more intimate knowledge of how Harry’s mind worked, he had. “Aurors, Healers,” Harry started, but was interrupted a moment later by the grizzled-looking man.
“Potter, what’s the meaning of having your- your secretary, hold us up here? We’ve got important work to do, and we can’t just stand here all morning,” he growled.
“Yeah, we’re busy, got lots to do,” one of the Healers called from the middle of the small crowd, “Places to go, people to check out… then back to work.”
Harry’s eyes lingered mostly on the lion-like man for several seconds, though they flicked briefly to the other speaker, who was a harassed-looking older wizard with flyaway hair that would have hung past his shoulders were it not so wispy and thin.
The Auror met his gaze steadily, his frown growing slowly.
It near-doubled when Harry looked away pointedly. Not as a sign of submission, but of dismissal, as he turned that same look to Kingsley. “Auror Shacklebolt, good morning. Thanks for the letters, though a bit more notice would’ve been nice. I’d have had the ladies start packing their things, at least.”
“What things?” the Auror grumbled, “They’ve been reported as having no possessions on them, how could-”
Kingsley coughed, “Boss-”
Harry took that moment to whirl on the Auror, “Auror, by what right have you brought what looks like an invasion force onto my property? Eight Aurors? Really?”
The other man actually took a half-step back, and his eyes widened, “What are you talking about, Potter? This isn’t an invasion- we sent word! We’re here to pick up the victims of Malfoy Manor.”
“Which I appreciate,” Harry replied coolly, “And I think a pair, or perhaps four, Aurors would have been sufficient. A few the ladies already know, for example: Aurors Shacklebolt and Tonks. I see one person they might recognize here. Have you ever dealt with cases of personal trauma like these ladies before, Auror?”
“It’s Head Auror, Rufus Scrimgeour, at your service, Potter,” the man growled, scowling now, “And I-”
“Came onto my property unannounced, unasked for, with twice the force you needed for security, and have yet to even ask a ‘by your leave’, Auror. Respect is a two way street.”
That was apparently too much, for the older wizard actually drew his wand, “Now, listen here, boy, I am the Head of the Auror Office! You can’t just-”
“Go ahead,” Harry whispered quietly, softly enough he hoped only those with the most sensitive ears in the crowd would hear, despite it having gone deathly silent, “Point your wand at me, Auror, on my property. Please… let me test my wards and defensive spells before Death Eaters come to call.”
“Rufus,” Kingsley’s low, calming voice rumbled, “This is not a fight you can win, and not a fight you want. Remember why we’re here.”
“Yeah, Scrimgeour,” one of the middle-aged witches in Healer’s robes muttered, “We’re not here to fight- and what, you gonna attack Harry bleedin’ Potter, on his own front lawn? Got a lot of witnesses. Don’t be daft, man.”
Harry waited, for thirty long seconds.
Then the wand was slid smoothly away, and Rufus Scrimgeour took a long, slow breath- the first he’d taken in several seconds. Once it had fully gone, he stood up tall and squared his shoulders, then extended his right hand, “My apologies, Mr. Potter. My name is Rufus Scrimgeour, I’m the Head Auror as of this morning. I’m… getting used to things. It’s been a hectic few weeks, with the death of Madame Bones, and this business at Malfoy Manor. I should not have taken it out on you, and for that, I am sincerely apologetic. Can we… start over?”
“Is he sincere, do you think, dearest?”
Lilian nodded once.
Then, after letting him stew for a few more seconds, Harry reached out his own hand and shook it, “Much better. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Head Auror Scrimgeour. The ladies are inside. Lilian, can you have them start packing their things?”
“Of course, Sir,” the tall blonde nodded with a smile, and beamed entirely insincerely at Scrimgeour as she turned and walked crisply up the stairs.
“Now, while they’re getting ready,” Harry told the group, “I should let you know a few things, and answer some of your questions. Of course they have more possessions than they were listed as having when first questioned. What was I going to do, have them parade around nude, like the Death Eaters were doing?”
“Wouldn’t put it past a lad like you,” a younger, red-haired man said with a thick Highland accent, “with yer Succubus an’ all.”
Harry scowled over at the man, “My girls and I are together willingly, not the victims of kidnapping and rape, Healer. Treat them with respect, or get off my property and don’t ever come back. Treat the people who live here, myself included, with respect, or make enemies you do not care to have. Some things are not to be joked about.”
The red-haired man blushed, Ron-like, and bowed his head as he was elbowed in the ribs from both sides by Healers with more sense.
“Now, yes, they have clothes,” Harry informed the group, “Over the last few days we’ve procured at least a few outfits for each of them. Some hygiene products, brushes, makeup, books- anything to help them feel as normal as possible after what they’ve been through. It isn’t much, most of their things could fit in a single backpack without space-expansion charms, but something.
“Remember, most of them will be skittish. A few are more… forward than I think they’d be, otherwise, as a method of self-control. Using their sexuality as they believe they want to, taking control of it, rather than having that control taken away. Don’t- do not- take them up on any offers. Their personal lives are their business, and should not mingle with yours. I’m not trying to tell you how to do your jobs, but I’m reasonably sure there are laws in place to protect victims like them. Don’t run afoul of those, or you’ll have more than just the Aurors to deal with, but my legal team, as well. I’m not sure who’s more scary right now, to be honest.”
There was a small round of titters, which was Harry’s intent. He didn’t even have a legal team, but they didn’t need to know that.
… It was probably a good idea to get one, though. And soon.
“Anyway, welcome to The Crockery… don’t make yourselves too at home, but if you need refreshments, the kitchen is available. The ladies are all inside and down the right wing on the ground floor, unless they’ve decided to take a walk. If so, Lilian can probably help find you, she mostly seems to know where everyone is at all times. Don’t know how she does it, to be honest.”
That part was a lie, he knew full well, but it wasn’t like Harry wanted everyone to know the full extent of her powers, or even that Lilian was the Succubus too many people now knew he had.
“Anyway, yes, come on in. Just remember, be nice, be respectful. It does wonders.”
Once the Aurors and Healers had headed into the house, Harry followed in, though Shacklebolt held back a moment, “A word please, Harry, if you don’t mind.”
“For you? Not a bit. What can I do for you?”
Kingsley kept a careful eye on the Healers, making sure the last of them were around the corner beyond the entry hall and in the residential wing before he said quietly, “First, that was nicely handled with Rufus. He’s alright, but… nervous. Anxiety’s getting the best of him, I think. Stress about the job… he’s wanted it for a while, but he’s not quite ready, I think. Best one for it, really, though.”
Harry nodded. “Is he… good?”
“As an Auror, he’s excellent,” Shacklebolt replied, “but if you mean, does he hate Death Eaters… he’s never had any love for the Dark Arts, none at all. Ruined his family in his youth, from what I’ve heard. Before my family left Uganda- my grandfather studied at Uagadou- it had already happened. Knights of Walpurgis did it, I think, and my grandmother was a victim of the same attack. He doesn’t talk about it, though, not even with me. He’s… trustworthy. To a point, at least. If that’s what you were asking.”
Harry nodded, “Mostly all of that, yeah… why only to a point?”
Kingsley shrugged and glanced to the side, “Rufus is an excellent Auror, and good in terms of ‘moral fiber’… he’s a brave man, and all that. He’s also a social climber, with political aspirations.”
“Ah.”
“Exactly,” Kingsley chuckled, “Him reigning it in like that… some of it’s probably real, but some was probably also for show. I don’t know how you got under his skin that fast, but he can be slow to let anger go. He’ll… well, if he’s friendly, he wants something from you. If you’ve been friendly for a few years, he might’ve gotten over it.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open, then. Thanks, Kingsley.”
“No problem,” Kingsley chuckled, then turned toward the hall himself, “I should get to work. For what it’s worth, I tried to warn them to Portkey off the property, but they didn’t listen.”
“I appreciate it. Thanks for trying.”
“’Arry? Can we talk?”
Harry looked up from his book, one Hermione had recommended to help with his Transfiguration homework over the summer that he’d found interesting enough to read more of for fun and his own furthering education, and set it on the table that rested on the veranda over the Conservatory. “Sure, Fleur. What’s going on?”
The blonde woman was a bit frazzled-looking, unusual for her, and he spotted small circles under her eyes that he’d just passed off as general lack of sleep that morning. “Are you alright?”
Fleur smiled wanly, but shook her head, “I am not sure, eef I am ‘onest, ‘Arry… I am nervous. Tired, and nervous.”
“Oh. Well… anything I can do to help?”
She could only shrug, the smile faltering, “You are zhe… well, part of the source of the nerves. Zhe ladies are gone, mostly… that will be one less stress. But I ‘ave some news, and I am not sure ‘ow you weel take it. Two zhings, actually.”
“Well… start with the easier one, then,” Harry suggested, “but unless you’ve, I don’t know, decided you want to move out or something, go back to Bill, or… you know, are otherwise unsatisfied with ‘us’, then I don’t know why you’d be nervous because of me.”
Fleur giggled, “You would be surprised, I theenk… but the small one? I can do that. One of zhe girls elected not to go whiz zhe Aurors and ‘Ealers. She said she felt safer ‘ere than at ‘er own ‘ome.”
“Kennedy.”
Fleur nodded.
Harry sighed, “I can’t say I didn’t expect it… she said as much, last night, when we were talking on the roof. I suppose she can stay for a while, until she feels alright going back home. It’s not too much work for you or Winky, is it? I know it’s been a lot, taking care of that many people. I appreciate it, though, and I know they do, too.”
“I will not lie and say it was nozhing,” Fleur chuckled, “but non, I was ‘appy to ‘elp, we all were. Zhose ladies needed all we could give, and more. No… Kennedy is a different animal, as you English say. Zhe fears magic… but it… faszinates ‘er, too. She is both drawn to and repulsed by eet.”
Harry nodded, “Still, if it doesn’t bother you or Winky, I doubt the other ladies will mind if she stays for a while. So there’s one worry gone, I hope. What’s the other one? The one that’s been keeping you up at night?”
It couldn’t have been the ladies leaving. He, Fleur, Lilith, Romilda (who had quickly been sent away as it was clear at least one of the Healers had ‘history’ with her), and the elves had been there throughout, while the women had packed their things, and then chosen which of the two places they would go to. Some still stayed with their roommates, some changed them up, and a few opted to go back home.
Kennedy was the only one Harry hadn’t personally seen, which meant she had been hiding. Probably from him. Which meant he’d have to have another conversation with her soon.
But right now, Fleur was the more urgent need.
“I am… late,” the French beauty said quietly, as her hands began twisting nervously.
Harry blinked, “What?”
“My monzhlies, zhey are a week late.”
“Monthly…? I don’t understand,” Harry shook his head.
“Zhark Week? Auntie Flo? My, ah… men-straahl… no, menstrual… ‘Arry, I am late. I am probably… no, I ‘ave done zhe charm. I know. I am pregnant.”
“Oh. Okay, so, when you said I was the cause for the anxiety, you meant I’d gotten you knocked up,” Harry replied evenly. “I guess that’s a reasonable worry.”
Fleur nodded.
He reached across the table and took her hand, meeting her brilliant eyes, sparkling with anxious tears, and leaned in, “You’ve nothing to worry about. I’m not going to abandon you. It’s earlier than I wanted, or expected, but… deep down, it had to be because you and I want it to. That’s the way Lilith’s Runes work: We can’t get pregnant or impregnate without both partners being willing. If it happened, then it’s because we wanted it to. Right?”
“I… I zhuppose so,” Fleur whispered.
“Good. Now, come here, love… I need a hug. This is good news. A thing to celebrate, isn’t it? Come on, let’s-”
Harry stood up, arms open, smiling widely. Fleur stepped toward him.
Before she could round the small table, however, the shock of what he’d just learned hit Harry like a ton of bricks, straight to the head.
In other words, he went straight to the floor, blissfully unconscious.
Fleur could only sigh, “Well, ‘e took it better zhan Maman said Papa did when ‘e ‘eard I was coming, at least… a ‘ole minute!”