Feathered families

Part 5/?

Kingsley Shacklebolt reclined on the soft, comfortable chair in Lord Riddle’s office, awaiting an audience with the absent Minister. Having been there for a good while, he found his eyes wondering over all the little knick-knacks in the room. Most of the gallimaufry had been left behind when Lord Grindlewald passed away, things like muggle toys the minister had collected for the enjoyment of his Gryffe pet, Albus, who often would be kept nearby Grindlewald when he was close to laying his newest clutch.

Dark eyes watched the muggle drinking bird toy on the desk raise and lower its head, its once red body caked with dust despite its mobility. After awhile, the repetitive motion began to make him tired. Containing a yawn, Kingsley jumped to attention as the flames in the fireplace flickered to life, signaling Lord Riddle had just entered the office.

The smile on the aged face was warm and inviting as Lord Riddle crossed the room. “Shacklebolt! It is good to see you.” Noting the strained expression on Kingsley’s face, the smile dulled. “I take it this is not a social call?”

“I’m sorry, my Lord, but you are correct,” Kingsley replied, unconsciously straightening his cap on his shaved head. “I am here to ask you a few questions.”

“Questions?” Lord Riddle repeated, his expression growing dark and his voice losing all its warmth. “May I inquire as to why?”

“Do you know a Dr. Brian Bertuer?” Kingsley asked, avoiding the question. His dark eyes watched a strange shift in Lord Riddle’s eyes.

“Yes,” Lord Riddle admitted, obviously scrutinizing Kingsley’s own facial expressions. “He is my pets’ fertility expert.” A strange unreadable expression passed over Riddle’s face. “Is he guilty of something?”

“The physician has gone missing, my Lord,” Kingsley answered, his brain analyzing every word and watching Riddle’s expression. There was some genuine surprise in the Lord’s expression and Kingsley allowed himself to relax before asking the next question. “Forgive me, My Lord, but why would James need a fertility expert? Your Harry could not be any older than five.”

A look of remorse and regret crossed Lord Riddle’s face at the mention of his child’s name. Kingsley’s heart stopped. He’d seen that kind of look many times before.

Kingsley reached over and gently laid a large hand on the minister’s shoulder. “Forgive me, my friend, I did not know Harry had passed on.” It was not uncommon for the death of adolescent Gryffes to not be announced in the obituaries. It was amazing that the minister was still able to keep functioning and the Wizarding World was unaware that its leader had undergone such a loss.

Kingsley remembered seeing Harry nursing when he was just a few weeks hatched, all big green eyes and shaggy black down. It had been obvious the little creature would grow into a beauty that would put even the legendary beauty young Albus had been to shame….

“No, my friend. Harry is alive and well,” Lord Riddle announced, cutting off Kingsley’s thoughts.

“Then how would James…,” Kingsley stopped as he realized why James would be fertile with Harry still alive. “You gave Harry away.” It was a method commonly practiced, especial in Eastern Europe, but Kinsley would have never thought the minister was capable of it with how much he seemed to cherish his family.

Lord Riddle did not deny it. “I need an heir soon, Shacklebolt. My father was a muggle so I am aging faster than the average wizard therefore I cannot afford to wait.”

“That is an old witch’s tale, my Lord,” Kingsley said shaking his head in disbelief. “Half-bloods and muggleborns live just as long as purebloods. You have at least forty years left!”

“Regardless, I want to acquire my heir now so I can watch him grow up and guide him down the right path,” Lord Riddle replied, not meeting Kingsley’s eyes anymore as he crossed the room to sit at his ornate dark oak desk. It was obvious that this conversation was paining him.

Kinsley sighed. “I understand, my Lord. So are congratulations in order yet?”

Lord Riddle smiled. “Not yet, my friend. But James is being tested later today.” His red eyes acquired a dreamy quality. “I had a vision of my heir just the other night. He looked just like James but with golden skin and a beautiful voice.”

Kingsley returned the smile and shook his head. “If that is the case, Merlin help the adolescent girls and boys!”

Lord Riddle laughed, a deep chuckle that was somehow chilling instead of comforting.

Kingsley stood, something nagging in the back of his mind that something was slightly off about Lord Riddle. “It was nice seeing you again, my friend, but duty fire-calls. I must continue with my investigation.”

“As always, it has been a pleasure Auror Shacklebolt,” Lord Riddle acknowledged as they clasped wrists and Shacklebolt left through the green fire for his own office, leaving Riddle behind. Alone in the dimly lit light of his office, no one was around to see Riddle’s smile.

-----

(Later that night)

Severus sank into the comfort of his office chair for the first time in two months, enjoying the way the cushioning magically conformed to his body as he mentally debated whether or not to enjoy a nap when his secretary walked into the office.

Though a few months younger than Severus himself, Remus looked far older and ragged looking in appearance due to his lycanthropy but at least since he entered Severus’s employment he was far better dressed than he had been. “How did it go?” Remus asked, his brown eyes filled with concern.

Severus sighed, a vision of Arthur’s crestfallen face appearing in his mind as he rubbed the large, bumped bridge of his nose. “Only seven of the twelve eggs the Gryffe laid hatched. It took a week to convince the Gryffe they weren’t going to hatch and that I had to bury them.” A disgusted scowl settled on his face. “By then they were already rotting by then.”

Remus placed a comforting hand on Severus’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, my friend.” Remus knew Severus for all his rough exterior cared deeply for his patients. “How did the Gryffe take it?”

“It went into denial. It would cover the rotting eggs with its body in a desperate attempt to make them hatch. Finally, after one of them busted under his body weight and revealed the dead child did he let me bury them.”

Remus’s skin took on a slight greenish color and the werewolf clasped a hand over his mouth. “Oh Osiris!” Severus understood his reaction. After a few minutes, he asked, “Do you know why they did not hatch?”

Severus nodded. “I did a diagnostic scan on them and the Gryffe with my wand. Two did not hatch due to chromosomal mistakes. The other three showed evidence of exposure to illegal fertility potions. I can only conclude that the Fertilizer had been shoving combinations of fertility potions down the Gryffe’s throat. It explain the extremely large clutch size.”

“Would you like for me to alert the Aurors?” Remus asked, already shifting his foot slightly towards the fireplace.

“Already done,” Severus informed him. “They already have a suspect for the supplier.”

“Have the remaining hatchlings been affected?” Remus questioned.

Severus gave a sigh of relief as he answered, “No, thank Merlin, all seven hatchlings are healthy and all have their Layer’s beautiful red head feathers or hair the same color. Lucius has already named them all.” Severus gave a small, almost undetectable smile. “The first to hatch William, Charles, and Percival were all Wizards. The Gryffes were named Frederick, George, Ronald, and Virgin, the smallest of the lot.”

“Virgin?” Remus questioned in disbelief.

“Lucius wanted to name the smallest Virginia but I told him that would imply overly feminine features which are not as of yet certain to the future owner. He then shortened it to Virgin. Narcissa has already nicknamed it ‘Ginny.’” Severus snorted at the antics of the people he called his closest friends. “Lucius is looking for a potential mate for Arthur as we speak.”

Remus chuckled.

“Did I get many calls during my absence?”

Remus nodded. “I directed a majority of them whose need was immediate to other well-known Potion Masters. The only person who still wishes to see you requires your aid with their two Gryffes.”

If Severus were less reserved he would have groaned at the prospect, but as he was a follower of Salazar’s ways he was able to suppress the urge easily. “Are they close to laying?”

“No, as I understand it from the call today they have not even conceived.”

“Who is the Fertilizer?”

“Lord Thomas Riddle.”

-----

Harry snuggled into the warmth of his Adopter who in turn wrapped his semi-nude body tighter around Harry before positioning him against a nipple exposed from the unbuttoned robe should he get hungry during the night. His Adopter’s milk did not taste exactly like his Layer’s had and there was not as much of it yet but Harry was more content than he had in weeks. The familiar sound of a Gryffe heartbeat and the feel of skin against his face made him feel safe and wanted as his Adopter sang softly to him.

His Adopter’s nest was located in a barn and though Harry had never been outside a Wizard House, he somehow found the smell of hay and sound of night insects soothing. “Promise the Wizards won’t take me away from you as I sleep?” Harry asked as his eyes grew heavy.

“I promise, my little one,” his Adopter promised as one of his hands straightened one of Harry’s feathers. “You may be my only chance to ever raise a hatchling.” The voice of the adult Gryffe was filled with a longing even a Gryffe as young as Harry was able to detect.

Harry’s sleepiness was momentarily forgotten as his eyes filled suddenly with salt water. “If I’m not, will you abandon me like my Layer?” He was terrified of losing the warmth and comfort the adult Gryffe had so readily offered. He knew the adult blonde Wizard had tried, but it was not the same if the adult did not understand you.

“No, my little one. You will be mine until your scent tells me you are fertile.”

“Fertile?” Harry asked in confusion. He had heard the word before but he did not think he knew its meaning.

“That you do not have to worry about for many years, little one,” the adult reassured him, a slight reddish tint to his cheeks. Harry realized his Adopter had not answered his questions but sleep was overwhelming his body. He fell asleep before he could stop himself.

----

Draco had not questioned when his so-called pet had not spent last night in its nest as usual, thinking maybe it wondering the halls in a state of restlessness like cats were known to do. But as his father tucked him into bed that night, Draco realized that the young Gryffe’s things were no longer in his room.

“Father, where is my pet?” he asked as his father tucked the covers around his body and a house elf dressed in an old red bed curtain set a very small cup of water on the nightstand.

“Harry is staying with Regulus from now on,” the adult wizard responded, slight surprise at his son’s interest evident in his tone. “Why do you ask, Draco?”

“No reason,” Draco lied, with a slight frown on his round face as he wiggled in the tight cocoon of his comforter for more room as he allowed his father to kiss his forehead. He didn’t know why the fact the creature was not staying in his room bothered him. He hadn’t liked the boring, whiny thing from day one.

Maybe it was because he didn’t like to share his things. Or maybe the fact that many of his friends were jealous he had a Gryffe already. Or maybe he just got used to the pet sleeping in his room.

He snorted at the last thought. Nah. The reason why the Gryffe’s absence was bothering him probably was due to the fact its presence made his friends very jealous.

Satisfied, he settled down into sleep as his father blew out the candles.

To Be Continued