Daimons

The bonding ceremony of Remus Lupin and Rose Marie was a lovely, gracious affair much like the couple themselves. It was a late afternoon wedding set by the lake. The sky was crystal clear and a brisk breeze rustled Rose Marie’s off white gown. Her hair was mussed, which Remus tucked behind her ear, earning him a shy smile of his beloved. Occasionally a merperson would be seen arching out of the water, watching the proceedings on the shore. Yes, on the whole it was a lovely day for a wedding.

Severus stood apart from the wedding party. He had been asked to be best man but for some unknown reason he politely refused. Luckily, Remus knew Severus well enough not to get his feelings hurt and asked Arm instead.

There was something bittersweet about the affair. He truly was happy for his friend and understood that even if things changed, that they would still remain best of friends. No it had nothing to do with their union; more than likely it was his own union that bothered him. He silently cursed himself; he wasn’t sentimental, never would be. But instead of a night of drugs and pain, a nice bonding ceremony would have been pleasant. There were a few memories of that night, vague as they were, that brought a smile to his sour face.

“A knut for you thoughts?” Armstrong asked his husband.

“I was thinking of our wedding night.” Severus found it useless to lie to his mate. Armstrong seemed to always know when he was lying and would pester him until the truth came out. If he told him at least a partial-truth it seemed to satisfy the Daimon’s curiosity.

Armstrong leaned in and kissed his startled husband. Public shows of affection bothered and embarrassed him. No matter how much he groused, Armstrong still insisted on showing how fond he was of Severus in front of crowds. Severus was pleased that the larger man had never thrown him up against a wall and fucked him in public. He had often threatened to do so in moments of passion. A large broad hand took his and tucked it over his arm as he led Severus to the reception.

“Let us imbibe and make merry tonight, for tomorrow you start your lesson again.”

“Bastard, can’t you let me forget about those fucking lessons for a few fucking moments?” For a reason Severus didn’t even know, he felt like arguing.

“Severus do I need to put you down for a nap?”

“That is what I fucking mean. I am not a child. I am an adult and I would appreciate it if you would treat me like one.”

“Severus stop throwing a tantrum. I do not wish to spoil this day for Rose Marie or Remus but if you keep this up I will make a scene and my wrath will be known.”

The Potion Master rubbed his hands over his face. Armstrong had done nothing for him to be this upset; in fact, he was charming and as gracious as ever. ‘What had gotten into him?’ he wondered.

“Oh crap.” He stopped in his tracks and laid his hand over his flat stomach. “I’ll castrate you if I am.”

“What are you talking about…? Are you?” Armstrong’s face beamed.

“I better not be,” he complained. He found him swooped into his husband’s powerful arms as Remus would later do to his bride.

“Del.” Arm caught his friend’s attention. “Follow me,” he ordered.

“Let me down you barbarian. I am perfectly capable of walking.” He grumbled all the way to Edelman’s home.

Without question Edelman followed his leader. He would unconditionally follow the man into battle and give his life for him.

With a swift kick the door flew open on Del’s small home. Arm entered with a rather perturbed husband struggling in his arms. The large Daimon put his husband on an examining table in a part of the house Severus had never seen before. It seemed that Edelman did not only train but was the community Healer. Without a word spoken his robes and shirt had disappeared and reappeared folded neatly on a nearby chair. His belt was gone; slacks opened and pulled down above his groin. Severus wasn’t sure which wizard had done the wandless magic but he never the less was impressed.

“I think he may be pregnant.” Armstrong was breathless.

“Did you cast the spell?” Del asked as he placed his hands over Severus’ stomach and pressed gently down. His eyes closed as he concentrated, mumbling diagnosis spell after spell.

“No. I didn’t think he could… without the spell.”

There was life, definitely one, possibly two, Del surmised. “When exactly was the bonding?”

“UH… Awww…” Armstrong stuttered.

“Dear Merlin spit it out. We were bonded seventeen day ago,” Severus answered for his flustered husband. “Why?”

“We male Daimons are capable of reproducing with another male but only when a spell is used. It is a very effective birth control.” He patted Severus shoulder. “The only other time a male could get pregnant is copulation during bonding ceremony. It was an old wives’ tale that no one truly believed. It seems Severus that you proved the saying true. In a little over eight months, you and Arms will be parents.” After a moment of histrionics, Severus was given a mild sedative that lulled him to sleep.

Quietly, Armstrong and Del crept from the room and entered the living room where Del poured two very stiff drinks. Glasses were refilled after the Daimons tossed their drinks back. They stared at each other both aware of how important this moment was.

“Could you be wrong? We did have sex the following day. Could the fetus have been conceived then?”

“Arm, I’ve been a Healer since before you were born. I delivered most every person under the age of sixty, including you, in our tribe; I don’t make that kind of mistake. Your children are the ‘ones’.”

“My children?” the Daimons smiled.

“One strong and sure, the second life form is weak. It could be an echo from the first but I believe you will have two hellions in a couple of years.”

“Severus didn’t want one child, much less two. I think for his well being we will keep that information among ourselves. The fact that our children will be the ‘ones’ will be explained to him over time. I don’t want my husband have a cardiac arrest with an overload of too much knowledge. Del, I’m going to be a father.” He giggled like a girl.

“Congratulation old man, and may your children guide your people to peace and prosperity for an eon.” He lifted his glass in a toast. Arm raised his glass, downed the contents, and threw the empty glass into the fireplace for good luck and long life.

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It had been a weak since Gavin asked Hermione to consider him for her mate. For the last week she played him off, neither giving him a yes nor a no. And to his word he never forced the issue and trained her in a proper manner. They stood side by side at the wedding of Remus and Rose Marie. Her delicate, little hand searched out Gavin’s larger one and entwined her fingers into his, as the words of love and fidelity were spoken at the alter.

During the reception Gavin asked, “Have you made up your mind my little warrior?” It was a nickname he had given her.

She beamed at him, not only because of the name he gave her but for the feelings she thought she would never have except for Ron. “Yes, I have but it may not be the answer you were looking for.” Gavin admired the warrior in her but was in love with this shy, unassuming, beautiful woman.

“Whatever your decision is, it won’t affect our working relationship, I promise.” The toe of her shoe played with the toe of his boot as she shyly looked to the ground.

“It’s too soon for a courting ceremony. I have feelings for you and I know you have some for me, but I haven’t even graduated form Hogwarts yet.”

“So the answer is no.” She heard the disappointment in his voice.

“Yes, the answer is no the courting bond. However, I will agree to a dating bond.”

He flashed a smile. “You know about our dating bond.”

“I did my research.” She smiled back. “The dating bond is the first of many bonding ceremonies. There is a measure of fidelity to it which appeals to me. It is a time to learn about one another without the pressures of courting.” Her hands rested on his shoulders as she stood on her toes to kiss the cheek of her boyfriend. Once they said their dating vows, a slight kiss is all bond would allow. She was comfortable with her decision and Gavin seemed to accept it. Hand in hand they walked to the bride and groom to offer their best wished.

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Hagrid was in his glory as the designated bartender. To the Daimons this was almost as important as being the leader of the pack and Hagrid wallowed at being the center of attention. Remus and Rose Marie mused how Hagrid was enjoying the wedding more than them.

“Oi Ron, I seem to be low on butterbeer. Would you be a good lad and run to my hut and bring back a case?”

“Hagrid.” Ron was about to refuse but thought better of it. Harry was busy with Miriam. ‘Probably fucking her under the bleachers,’ he thought to himself. Hermione had stopped talking to him and no matter how many times he inquired why she would never tell him. Then there was Draco. Yeah, there was Draco and there was nothing he could do about it. “Sure Hagrid. I’ll be back in a few.”

“Wow,” Ron said out loud when he entered Hagrid’s hut. There was enough liquor for a dozen weddings. Grabbing a case of butterbeer, he was about to leave when the thought struck him. A few bottles of firewhiskey wouldn’t be missed. Shrinking a half a dozen bottles, he slipped them into the pocket of his robe. ‘This should give me something to do now that my friends are too busy for me,’ he supposed.

Dropping the case of butterbeer off with Hagrid, Ron took off to his dorm room. There he could be alone with his thoughts and a bottle of firewhiskey.

Nearby, Draco watched Ron’s coming and goings. This was as close as he dared let himself get. The urge to roll on the ground with Ron was overpowering and he wasn’t sure he could resist the need. To the world Draco was the same snug, arrogant Slytherin he always was. Draco, after years of beatings from his father, learned some very effective glamours, glamours that prevented people from seeing the weight loss, the dark circles around his eyes, or the hair loss that were coming out in handfuls. Draco needed help, but who could he turn to that would understand what he was going through? He snickered when he thought of his father. That would only get him killed. Telling his fellow Slytherins was unthinkable. A Gryffindor and him together? No one in his house would ever talk to him again. He could tell Snape, if he could get close enough. That husband of his was always in the way, and besides he scared him more than Voldemort did. There was little choice, he thought as he used the sleeve of his shirt to whip the tears off his face. He had no one to talk to but his godfather. Releasing a deep breath he went in search of Snape.

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Harry took Miriam’s hand that was sneaking its way into his trousers. “We need to talk.”

“Talk about what?” She hummed as she started to suck on his earlobe.

“We need to talk about what’s happening to us.” He took a step back away from her.

“Happening? What’s happening?” She looked hurt at the rejection.

“You’re beautiful and more woman than most men ever dream of about, but I can’t keep doing this with you.”

“Doing what?”

“Having sex with you.”

“What?” Her mouth hung open.

“I admit I’m a hormonal teenager that has been enthralled with you. Who wouldn’t be? Your breathtaking, sensuous, and,” he smiled, “nasty.”

“I don’t see the problem.” She stepped toward the boy only to have Harry step back.

“I seem to need more. I need to have more feelings than I do for you. Oh Merlin, that didn’t come out right.”

“Harry relax. It’s alright. We Daimons take our pleasure where we find it and I found a lot of pleasure in you, but I don’t love you. I wanted nothing more than to enjoy life for a few hours in your arms. Until we bond, we Daimons have a very active sex life with as much variety as we can handle. We can still take lovers when we bond but it has to be consensual by both spouses. If one wants a monogamous relationship the other will comply and never ever consider cheating on their mate. We crave to feel, to have our adrenaline coursing through our bodies. Be it through sex or fighting or pushing ourselves to the limits of our endurances, we enjoy being alive. We had our moment. It was beautiful and if you ever want to reacquaint yourself with,” her smile was sensuous, “me, all you have to do is ask.” Giving him a chaste kiss she went to join the party.

Harry, standing dumbfounded, wondered if perhaps he should have waited a day or two longer before be broke up with Miriam. He straightened his briefs.

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Armstrong saw the Malfoy boy coming up to him. He sneered, trying to discourage him; he didn’t want his joyous mood dampened by a snobbish, bigoted child. Arm tried to walk past but Draco stepped in front of him. The boy had some courage, he mused.

“Sir, I’m looking for my god… for Professor Snape. Do you have any idea where he is?”

“He’s busy. He might have some time for you tomorrow, come back then.”

Draco felt like crying. “Yes sir, I’ll do that.” He had gone this long, another twenty-four hours shouldn’t kill him. At least, he hoped it wouldn’t.

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Armstrong and Edelman had decided that the Dark Mark had to be transferred immediately, for the sake of the children as well as Severus. To the Daimon, the transfer of power from the Dark Lord to him meant little. It would not change his and Severus’ relationship a bit. He also knew that his husband would be livid. Armstrong smiled to himself. For a man who was so reserved, Severus could give a really good paddy. He’d have to do something nice to make it up to him but he would not have his husband or his children in the line of fire.

Severus woke in a fowl mood, in a room he did not recognize.

“Don’t get up.” He heard the soft voice of his husband as he felt his weight on the bed. Arms were wrapped around Severus. Armstrong stroked his husband’s stomach as he nestled his chin into the black locks of Severus.

“Besides me being pregnant, what’s wrong?”

“What makes you think anything is wrong?”

“You answered my question with a question, number one, and you’re being ‘loving’. And you’re always that way when you are about to tell me something I won’t like.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“Yes, now tell me,” Severus demanded.

“In a few moments we’re going to transfer your dark mark into a mark of my choosing.”

“I… I won’t be able to spy if you do that.”

“You won’t be going back.”

“I have to.”

“Severus…”

Severus got out of bed and started to pace the room frantically. “You don’t understand.”

“Explain it to me, Love.”

“I have so much to make up for. I won’t be able to unless I’m in the inner circle. Without the mark I’m nothing, less than nothing: useless.”

“What are you talking about? We haven’t been together for long but you must realize that you’re everything to me and now you’re carrying our child. You’re the love that I never thought I would have.” Getting out of bed he held the Potions Master close, stroking his back as he spoke in his ear. “You’re brilliant. You know Voldemort,” at his name Severus stiffened. “There is no one else who can tell us the working of his mind. We need you to help with the strategy, not to sacrifice yourself or our child’s life. I promise you that you will find your redemption. Now, no more fussing and come along, Del is waiting for us.”

“I will continue to be of use?”

“I promise you.”

“Is this another way of you controlling me?” Severus tried in vain to lighten the mood.

“You found out my nefarious plans. You’ll be mine, do you hear me, mine.” He threw his head back and gave an evil laughter.

Severus rolled his eyes. “Haven’t you heard? I already am.” He combed his finger through Armstrong’s wild mane and kissed him. This, after weeks together, was the first kiss that Severus initiated. Armstrong felt it all the way to his toes and had to push his lover away so as not to take him against the wall.

“Come on love, let’s not make Del wait.” He took his lover’s hand, kissed his knuckles, and led him to the living room.
By early morning, the Dark Mark was gone and in it place was a drawn sword with the Armstrong’s crest on it. Mercifully, Severus passed out early from the pain. Edelman assured Arm, even though Severus would be drifting in and out for the next three to four days that that he and the babies were doing fine. With a slight shove, Del sent Arm home and ordered him to bed.

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Ron sat on his bed with the curtains drawn. He had put a silencing charm up so he could drink in peace. After the first swallow, Ron started to gag. He put the cap back on the firewhiskey thinking it wasn’t such a good idea after all. In a few moments he felt a warm glow seep through his body. One swallow more led to another until most of the bottle was gone. Ron, rolled in a fetal position clinging to the bottle for dear life, started to cry. He sobbed, slowly turning hysteric. The deeper he cried the harder it was for him to breathe. The whiskey bottle smashed to the ground as Ron rolled out of bed and started to spasm on the floor, waking Harry.

“Ron!” he ran to his best friend’s side. “Oh Merlin.” Ron’s lips were turning blue, his swollen eyes were bulging. “Damn it Ron what have you done?” Harry turned quickly to the fire and made a call first to Poppy, them Dumbledore. Poppy almost immediately stepped through, dressed in an old flannel nightgown and robe. She shuffled when she walked; her worn slippers were loose and threatened to fall off her feet. In her hand was a well used medicinal bag.

“Ronald Weasley what have you gotten yourself into?” she scolded the unconscious boy. After so many years as a mediwizard there was very little she had not seen. There were always three or four boys a year that overindulged in alcohol.

After a couple of potions, Ron started to show signs of life. His lips were back to a normal colour and there was an awareness in his eyes that was missing before.

The strong smell of alcohol, as well as the shards of glass, disappeared with a wave of the headmaster’s wand.

“How is Mr. Weasley?” Dumbledore asked Poppy. He stood by Harry, with a reassuring arm about his shoulder.

“Mr. Weasley will be just fine, thanks to Mr. Potter here. He’ll have quite a hangover in the morning. One I think he quite deserves.” She levitated Ron and tucked him back into bed.

“So, no hangover medicine huh?” Harry hated seeing his best friend looking so bad.

“He’ll survive nicely Mr. Potter. A bad hangover may make him think twice the next time he decides to imbibe. I’m sure he’ll be making all of his classes tomorrow, don’t you think Headmaster?

“I’ll be sure that he does Poppy, though I doubt he’ll be in the mood.” He chuckled.

“Headmaster, this is not to be taken lightly,” Poppy scolded.

“So right. I do apologize. Harry you did well by rousting Poppy and I. Do you have any idea why your friend went on a binge?”

“No sir, but we hadn’t seen a lot of each other in the last week. I’ve been rather busy with my… aw… studying and training. He’s been awfully quiet lately.”

“It seems that there is a couple of young men that I know that seem to be ‘awfully quiet lately’. Perhaps I need to talk to the both of them.” Albus seemed to be talking to himself more than to Harry or Poppy.

“Who would the other boy be?” Harry asked.

“No concern of yours, I’m sure. Now off to bed with you. Tomorrow will be here before you know it.”

“I think,” Harry yawned, “tomorrow is already here.” He looked at the clock in the corner of the room.

“So it is. Way too late for an old fart as myself. Good night Harry, Poppy.”

“Good night sir,” was the reply from Harry and Poppy.

Poppy properly fussed over Harry and tucked him in before she flooed back to her own room. Harry drifted to sleep thinking that, perhaps, he to should have a talk with his friend. Yes, in the morning he’d have a long conversation with Ron and find out what was going on with him. What are friends for but to be there when they’re needed?