A/N: Uh… I have no idea where this came from. Sorry? This is not my normal pairing as most of you know, so, uh, I hope you enjoy it?

Beta Love: The Dragon and the Rose (praise her for losing sleep for me!)

Summary: [RL/HG] Rodolphus was tortured and transformed at a very early age for something the Lestranges could not abide: having feelings for a mere Muggle. They subjugated him, bound him in wedlock to a madwoman that he despised, and turned him into a Muggle-hating proper Lestrange. It did not end the way they had hoped.

The Demon Within

Rodolphus awoke the moment his "wife" and "brother" had died, his eyes blazing with hate as the darkness seeped into them once more, released from their prison inside himself. He knew his brother and his wife were dead. He knew because the hate that had been channeled so skillfully into Pureblood superiority was surging back to where it had always been before: hate for his family for making him the abomination that he was and pure hate for the ones who had slaughtered his destined mate.

Long canine fangs were bared from his half-formed muzzle. Impossibly dark slime dripped from his open maw. No, Rodolphus hadn't been completely human for a very, very long time. In his family's attempt to create the perfect Dark prince, they had done unspeakable things to his mind, body, and soul. They had changed him, tortured him, and forced him into the mold that they so desired, all because he had had the sheer audacity to be kind to a girl who wasn't a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

His brother, Rabastan, had gleefully gone running to tattle on him. It was probably because if Rodolphus was judged to be needing no further adjustments, he would finally be freed of the experience. It was a very Lestrange way of looking at things. It was something he had never quite fit— until they found a way to make him fit.

Rodolphus snarled, pulling himself off the ground where his broken broom had stranded him. No matter. He wouldn't need it anymore. Never again. Cruel claws unsheathed from his changing hands. A long, sinuous black tail lashed back and forth. Dark, draconian wings flapped open from his back, blotting out the dim light from the moon.

His Keepers were now dead, and he would make it his mission to destroy every single remaining member of the Lestrange family for their sins against him, starting with the people who had murdered his mate: his parents.

"Rodolphus, what's wrong?" the girl touched his arm tenderly. "Please, tell me what's wrong?"

Rodolphus shuddered, the magic already turning him— changing him. "Stay away, love," he hissed painfully. "They mean for me to kill you."

"Rodolphus?" her voice was uncertain, but her faith in him ever been strong. He could feel it. Her precious faith had allowed her to accept his magic, even as a Muggle. She was pure, innocent.

Long, sharp claws began to extend from his fingers. His face was slowly shifting to form a dark muzzle. "Hadleigh, I beg you. Run."

She had always used his full name. Even when others would shorten it to Rod, Dolph, or Dol, she would say the name that calmed him. Even now, it had the power to calm him.

"Rodolphus," she whispered, touching his arm. His skin was changing underneath, but still she did not pull away. She looked into his eyes, even as the were bleeding into a fathomless pitch-black. "What have they done to you?"

The waves of hate were receding. He could see her— her shining face. He carefully placed his talons against her face, brushing her long hair back. "Hadleigh," he said in a soft hiss, his voice changing as his body remade itself.

"You won't hurt me, Rodolphus, " she said sternly. "You never have. All the stories of your family— you never have! I'm here for you, love."

Rodolphus pulled her snugly against him as a pair of great wings erupted from his back, even as his face pushed out into a horrible muzzle filled with razor sharp dangerous teeth.

But still she didn't scream. She didn't even try to run. Instead, his flower, his precious love, she put her palms to his bestial face and pressed her head to the bridge of his muzzle. "I'm here. I believe in you."

Rodolphus' nostrils flared.

Mate.

Our mate.

Guard.

Protect.

He felt the bonding magic rise up between them. It would anchor him to her, bind him to her— her pure, loving soul— if she would but allow it. Then he could keep his human mind.

He nuzzled her, a low growl in his throat, pulling her tight against his powerful chest. She had already accepted the magical world. She had already accepted the estranged, despised brother of the Lestrange family. Could she— could she possibly accept this hideous monster as well?

Her soft touch stroked his ear, and he looked down at her. Even now, she trusted him. Loved him.

"I need you," he whispered hoarsely.

"I'm here for you, Rodolphus," she answered. "Whatever you need of me is yours, just don't ever make me leave you. Please."

He grimaced with a twinge of slight pain, and tenderly placed a kiss upon her sweet mouth, made slightly awkward by the muzzle forming on his face. She closed her eyes, perhaps to imagine him human, or perhaps because she trusted him, even now, to never hurt her. He lowered her to the small bed in their hidden cottage, a place that the Lestrange family had long since forgotten about.

"I love you," he growled, focusing tightly upon that feeling she gave him as he pressed his growing fangs to her pale neck. He panted, straining as his body changed, but also attempting to temper the flood of anger and hate that rose along with his feelings for her— his Hadleigh. He worshiped her body and soul, forcing his weapons of hate into tenderness, focusing his hate into protectiveness, and transforming the nature of the demon he was becoming into something different. Something almost human.

She cried out against him, clinging to him as he loved her, and the magic rose and surged between them, binding him to her forever— taming the demon inside to her service. He enfolded her into his arms even as his fangs sank into the junction of her neck and shoulder, marking her— claiming her as his own, forever.

Hadleigh gasped, but she didn't struggle. Her pants evened out as she fell against him, surrounded by his arms and wings. The magic thrummed between them. They were finally one— mates. As long as she was there, he would remain true to himself. He would protect her.

Born a Muggle, she would share in his power for as long as they were together, and he would not leave her— not willingly.

He gently nuzzled her face, his tongue flicking out to groom her neck and heal the wound he had made with his sharp teeth. It knit together almost instantly, his dark saliva seeping into her bloodstream and beginning to assimilate her to him but more importantly him, to her.

He would take her to a hidden place high in the mountains — the place she always dreamed of— far from wizards, witches, and any misunderstanding Muggles. She could have her horses, her cats, and a mountain of the books that she loved so much, but most of all she would have him, and he would have her.

His mate.

His greatest love.

His claws were slowly receding. Together, we watched them shrink back into neatly trimmed nails on normal, human hands. The transformation was reversing.

Rodolphus let out a soft cry of deepest relief, pressing his lips to her temple as he held her tight. The magic was still working away, and he knew he needed to give it time to cement before he could dare to move her. But, as he felt the touch of her soft cheek against his collarbone, he knew it was going to be all right. His family was wrong. Muggles could understand. Muggles could evolve. They were brave, strong, and just as fierce as any magic-born person. They could find the strength within themselves to accept— the heart of a monster.

He closed his eyes, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

He woke to Hadleigh's choked scream.

His eyes flew open.

Bellatrix.

She held Hadleigh in her arms, the cursed knife was raised high in her hand, and a cruel, hungry look was on her face.

"How fortuitous," she cooed in a childish sing-song voice. "We needed a proper sacrifice to bind you to where you truly belong."

The knife thrust deep under the left side of Hadleigh's ribcage, and her eyes widened with the sudden, sharp pain. She stared at him. "Rodolphus," she whispered.

Rodolphus roared, claws emerging from his fingers as the fangs formed in his mouth. He surged towards her, calling on the magic between them.

Mate!

Protect!

He couldn't move! Why couldn't he move!

"Now, now, brother," Rabastan crooned. "Let's just let her blood trickle away and seal your hate into our service, just like mummy and daddy wanted."

Hatred surged inside him. Blind, all-encompassing hate—

Hadleigh.

He locked eyes with her. Her gentle, pained eyes looked at him, tears welling in their lovely depths. She reached for him, even now.

He couldn't move. If he could just touch her— the magic would heal her. The magic would help her!

Bellatrix jerked her, moving her over to where Hadleigh's blood would drip down into the cast-iron cauldron she had placed on the floor. The cauldron fizzled and spat, rendering down into two crystals that practically glowed with malevolent Dark magic.

Rodolphus didn't even notice how Bellatrix and Rabastan swallowed the crystals to bind him to their service. He didn't even notice how Bellatrix had a little more twisted fun by stabbing his mate's body repeatedly as she giggled insanely.

All he saw was Hadleigh's beautiful brown eyes staring into his with all the love he had ever desired, watching until the lights inside them finally went out.

All that was remained was overpowering grief and a hate so strong that it pushed his transformation to horrific completion.

Rodolphus the human wizard was gone.

With the destruction of the two suppression stones that Bellatrix and his traitorous brother had swallowed, Rodolphus was now free, but even with the song of vengeance ringing loudly in his mind, all he really wanted was the touch of his mate once more.

His dead mate.

He gave a keening howl into the pitiless night sky. What use was it being free if the one thing he desired was forever lost to him? What good was it to have nigh limitless power with no one with which to share it? He couldn't even protect her.

He descended upon the bloody battlefield at Hogwarts, ripping Death Eater after Death Eater apart, flinging the assorted body parts aside each time as their spells struck uselessly at his nigh-impervious body. He tore each of them to pieces, snapping their bones as he tore out their throats. He could smell the foul Dark magic in each of them. They were nothing but food to him.

Panic swiftly rose among the ranks of the Death Eaters. Their Dark Lord was occupied with other matters, leaving them to question— leaving them to fear.

Fear attracted him like nothing else. Fear and Darkness might as well have said "Rodolphus, come dine upon me." So dine he did. Over and over again he did so, feeding the raging hunger that had been denied for almost two entire decades. He had no interest in Muggles. He had no interest in Pure-blood versus Muggle-born politics. He hungered for the power of Dark Magic and the flesh of those who housed it.

It was the irony of ironies.

The Lestranges had crafted the ultimate Dark assassin, but what the beast really wanted was them. For the last two decades, they had forced him into their service, forced him to take a human shape, and turned his hunger and hate towards their enemies. The had no idea what they had actually created, nor did they truly care. The end justified the means. What they didn't seem to realise, however, was that their beast could and would eventually be freed.

Mortals all died, both magical and Muggle— one way or another.

By the time the Second Wizarding War had finally concluded, most of the minions of the Dark Lord had been torn to pieces. No one had even bothered to ask how. No one cared to know either.

Rodolphus found that he much preferred it that way.

It was on a sunny day in May when he first saw her— the golden heroine of the Second Wizarding War. He'd heard of her, of course, due to the Daily Prophet, but he had never truly paid attention. Everyone knew the Prophet was full of drivel and spite as well as outright lies.

She walked alone in the park, followed by a raucous group of ducks after her bread. She sat down at the edge of the pond and held out her bread, patiently waiting.

Slowly, a young cygnet glided towards her, his grey down and half feathers making him look like some freak of a swan put together by committee. She held out her hand to it, and it parted the sea of ever-hungry ducks, coming in to gently vacuum up the grain and bread from her hand.

Why do you always feed the ugly one, Hadleigh?

I can't help it, Rodolphus. One day, he'll be a magnificent swan and his outside will match his heart.

Once the cygnet had enough, he gently nuzzled her cheek with his beak and glided away. Only then did she give the last of the bread and grain to the hungry ducks, who made it all disappear very quickly.

"Why do you feed the odd one?" Rodolphus asked, sitting on a nearby bench.

The young witch chuckled, her face somewhat weary and worn for her supposed age. "I can't help it, I guess," she replied. "One day he'll be a swan, and his outside will match his heart."

Rodolphus snorted lightly. "He might be a monster that only appears to be a swan."

The witch shrugged. "He has never once harmed me. That is all I need to know." She paused. "I know well what it is like— not fitting in."

"Perhaps, you were never meant to fit in, love," Rodolphus found himself saying. "Perhaps, you have always been a swan amongst the common ducks."

The younger witch stared at him curiously, her amber-brown eyes flashing with open curiosity.

"Have coffee with me," Rodolphus said, strangely compulsed, somehow drawn to the petite young heroine. For once, since his return, he felt as though he could hold onto his human guise, and he found it wonderfully compelling.

"My parents always told me not to talk to strangers," she said coyly.

"Too late now," Rodolphus answered with a soft chuckle. "I am Rodolphus. We are now no longer unacquainted."

"Brazen," she laughed, a slight frown on her face. "Not a common name."

"It is a name, just like any other name," he replied. "Syllables put together to prevent uncouth pointing and grunting."

She arched a delicate brow at him. "Hermione," she said after a while.

He took her hand, pressing his lips to the back of it as he brought it to his mouth. "Hermione," he purred. "Have a coffee with me."

Hermione looked at him as though evaluating his intentions.

"I do not intend to ravish you on first meeting, my Lady," he said bluntly. "I believe you must at least accept my courtship before such things."

Hermione flushed, and she dipped into a curtsey despite herself. "Lead on then, my Lord."

Perhaps, she was teasing him with the use of such titles, but Rodolphus found it charming, even endearing. None had called him by his full name in so many years. None had said his title, either. She probably had no idea, but she seemed so familiar. His face was no longer what it once was. He was no longer the startlingly similar older brother of Rabastan. He was no longer conforming to that world anymore.

Time would tell. What he did know was that for once, his body was not fiercely struggling to return to its more primeval appearance. That alone had him curious.

Weeks turned into months, and months turned into years.

"Rudolphus!" she cried as he swung her around. "She had a small orange Kneazle kit in her hands that she was trying not to drop. It had found them, quite literally, during one of their many trips to the duck pond. It, much like him, had refused to leave her side from their very first meeting.

Hermione was a virtual outcast amongst her so-called peers. Her mind was too active, and her appearance too plain. Her fellow heroes of the war had married and had their children already, while Hermione seemed so terribly different. It was though she were searching for something else to complete her, but all she seemed to find was discomfiture and loneliness.

Minerva McGonagall was her only true friend from Hogwarts, and the elder witch would visit her often. Hermione apprenticed with her on the side, soaking up all the information she could. The day she shifted into her Animagus form, Hermione became a gargoyle— fit to guard anything from the most luxurious of offices of Hogwarts to a fantastical treasure room of the elite.

"Merlin, even as an Animagus, I am a freak," Hermione complained as she fingered the registry pin on her collar.

"Why do you think that?" he asked her, calmly sipping his tea.

"Animagi are supposed to be mundane, normal animals like cats!" Hermione sighed.

"What makes you think a gargoyle isn't a perfectly mundane, normal thing like a cat?" he replied. "Just because someone decided to call them magical, doesn't mean that it is not perfectly normal for them, hrm?"

Hermione eyed him a bit suspiciously. "When did you get so philosophical?"

"Since the redhead came by to ask— no— guilt you into watching his child for him while he and Parsley went out for their anniversary.

Hermione spit out her tea. "Lavender?"

"Lavender, Heather, Parsley, whatever," he countered. "All are equally exciting."

Hermione gave him a look.

Rodolphus gave her an utterly disarming smile in return.

She huffed at him, flushing, setting the Kneazle kitten down on the cat-tree they had constructed together with driftwood and aged Mangrove logs. He pressed his lips to hers hungrily, a low growl forming in his throat.

She yielded, whimpering slightly as their kiss grew heated quickly. He felt the change coming on, and he wrestled with it.

Mate. Claim mate.

No!

Beast I may be, but I will love her as she deserves. All she wants is a normal life. I can give her that.

The beast that was inside him whined. Mate, it whimpered piteously.

He forcibly reminded himself just how badly it had ended for Hadleigh. Even with all her love, he hadn't been able to protect her, either. He couldn't help but notice the similarities, though. Hermione's bright brown eyes, her love of books, the scent of her hair, hell... even her fascination with felines were all so familiar to him. Most of all her pure heart called to him. Most telling of all was that Hermione Granger hadn't existed the day that his Hadleigh had been murdered. In fact, there was a very good chance that Hermione had actually been conceived the terrible night that his Hadleigh had died. Rodolphus had thought long and hard about that. Hermione didn't seem to recognise him, but then, how could she? His face was not the same… only his name was. He was not the young man who had courted Hadleigh. He was, however, the very same beast that had Marked her as his shortly before her untimely death— before the bond could be fully cemented between them.

The beast recognised her.

Rodolphus panted as he pulled away, tenderly brushing her cheek with his fingertips. Hermione looked up at him sadly, as if she somehow knew he was holding something back from her, but she didn't ask. She touched his hair and smiled, hiding away the pain he knew was there behind her eyes.

She thinks you don't find her attractive enough.

That is NOT the problem!

She doesn't know that, fool.

Rodolphus clenched his fists.

We want her. She wants you. Make her ours.

He turned away from Hermione, trying to wrestle his emotions back under control.

When he turned back to her, however, Hermione had picked up the kneazle kit and left, walking out of the cottage to the garden outside.

Rodolphus winced. He never wanted to hurt her, but hurt her he surely did.

Tell her.

She will turn away from us.

No, she won't. Hadleigh never did. She won't either.

Rodolphus grit his teeth, growling lowly.

"Hermione," he whispered, sitting down beside her. "It's not that I don't want you," he forced out.

She looked at him, pain in her eyes with disbelief coming in a close second.

He took her hands and pressed his lips to them. "I care for you. More than anything, but I am afraid."

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He wasn't exactly the kind of person that seemed to be afraid of anything.

He stared into her face. "I am afraid that if you know what I really am, you will not be able to look at me again."

"What makes you think I don't already know what you really are, Rodolphus?" she replied sadly.

Again, she said his name. His real name.

"I was born in a very dark place, Hermione," he started to say. "I was reborn even Darker."

Hermione closed her eyes. "You asked me why I feed the cygnets instead of the more beautiful ducks. Perhaps I know a swan when I see one."

"I am no swan, Hermione," Rodolphus sighed.

"The cygnet who looks in the mirror of the lake sees only a duck that is ugly. Then one day, those ducks envy him, even when he thinks himself to be different and ugly."

"I do not blame you for finding me plain," Hermione said with sadness. "I have always been plain. Buck teeth. Frizzy hair. Different. Do not trouble yourself about the likes of me."

Rodolphus shook his head adamantly. "No! That is not it at all! Hermione, I want you. I want you so much the skies burn with my desire. I could not bear to see the utter revulsion in your eyes—"

Hermione looked at him with confusion.

"I am but a beast," Rodolphus confessed. "No more than an animal."

"You are Rodolphus," Hermione said with a sad expression. "You have not hurt me. Not during the day or by night when you have slept and your form changes but holds me close."

Rodolphus mouthed silent words, comprehension dancing on the outside of his awareness. "What—?"

There was a double crack as two familiar people Apparated in.

"Hermione, get away from him!" Ron yelled. "That's Rodolphus!"

"Of course it's Rodolphus," Hermione scoffed, looking at him with disgust. "Put that wand down, Ronald!"

"No, Hermione," Harry growled, aiming his wand at the older wizard. "That is the Rodolphus. Rodolphus Lestrange. He's a murderer!"

Hermione's face went frighteningly pale. She stared at them, shaking her head in denial. She looked at Rodolphus, whose face was twisted in pure agony. "No, it's not true."

"It is true, love," Rodolphus told her, his voice empty and hollow.

Hermione shook her head, her breaths coming in small gasps.

So many dreams had passed between them, and all of them danced in her eyes, forming into tears of grief and pain. She started to hyperventilate.

Rodolphus felt his fingers twisting into talons, his body losing control of his shape. A single tear trailed down his face, and he caught it with one obsidian claw. It shimmered with his memories. "The truth, love," he said hoarsely. "Is all I can give you, but you'll have to trust me."

Hermione looked at him, caught somewhere between desperate, aching need and cold fear. Rodolphus winced, having never wanted to see that look on her face— not to him. Never to him.

Rodolphus drew the talon across his tongue. "One kiss, love. One last kiss, and you will be free to choose."

"Hermione, no!" Ron yelled in the background, but it was like nothing more than the buzzing of bees to her.

Hermione pressed her sweet mouth to his, choosing truth over fear.

Rodolphus growled, pulling her close, opening his mind to hers for the first time, allowing the full, unvarnished truth: his past, his creation, and the death of his Hadleigh— all of it for her to examine like so many pages of a book— even the murders of hundreds of Death Eaters at his hands, their lifeblood on his muzzle, his claws, and his wings.

I am a demon.

I am a beast.

I love you, but I am not man. I am a thing— who loves you still.

Hermione touched his cheek, brushing the softness of his lips even as his muzzle was pushing forward, forming into the shape of nightmares and horror. "You are Rodolphus," she whispered tenderly. "My Rodolphus."

He stared into her eyes, tears trickling down his muzzle. "Hermione." If she did not accept his bond, he would have to leave— for her own safety as well as his. If Potter and Weasley kept on relentlessly hounding her, she would never find peace again. He could never be with her again because he and his beast could never be content again without her.

Hermione traced his teeth with her fingertips, and tenderly placed a kiss to his muzzle. Then, every so intentionally, she tilted her head to the side, and drew his head down towards her in very clear, unmistakable invitation.

She knew.

She has always known, idiot. Who do you think holds her through the night while you slumber?

Rodolphus shuddered, his tongue extending to lav against her skin once, twice, three times. In a flash, his fangs sank into her throat and buried deep, the blackened saliva seeping out his muzzle and deep into her bloodstream. Hermione bucked against him, her hands tightening, but she did not struggle. No, she snuggled into him, her body trembling as the magic slid sinuously between them like two cats rubbing against the same table leg. Then, in a primal surge of power, they blended together, and Hermione cried out, her eyes wide as the magic rushed through her body, Marking her and beginning the transformation.

Rodolphus.

Hermione.

He could hear her! Clear as a bright, cloudless, sunlit day, her mental voice rang within his mind with glorious clarity.

My love. Hermione. He sang her name into the Great Nether.

She sang his name into the High Reaches as the blackness of a starless night filled her eyes, leaving only bright shining whisky-brown eyes glowing on a ebon field like the Abyss. Rodolphus, she sang. Ro-dol-phus.

"Hermione!" Ron yelled, sending off a curse towards Rodolphus.

A dark wing, mottled with earthen brown and a deep red mixed with black, rose up sharply to meet it. The magic pinged off the wing into another direction as easily as a mirror reflected light. Rodolphus growled menacingly, his transformation accelerating. Long, dagger-like fangs were bared menacingly as he hissed, copious amounts of black drool dripping from his fangs. Ron sent another spell, and this time it hit Rodolphus square in the face, the magic slicing his face cruelly so his blood trickled down on Hermione as well.

Ron was far from finished, but Harry stilled his wand hand. "No, Ron!"

"That's a bloody demon!" Ron hissed furiously.

"No," Harry said, some inner wisdom crossing his face. "It's a monster that was created by men."

"What?" Ron squeaked.

Hermione touched Rodolphus' muzzle and drew it down. Ever so tenderly, she licked the line across his face. Grey, blackening drool seeped into his skin, and it knitted back together again, smooth and whole as if the cut had never even been there.

She turned her head to look at Harry, her black and whisky-brown eyes glowed as she stared at him silently.

"Goodbye, Hermione," Harry said softly. "Come visit if you can, someday."

Hermione's lips curved into a smile, exposing her growing fangs. She nodded to him, saying nothing in words but not really needing to. She drew herself fully into Rodolphus' loving embrace and his wings wrapped snugly around her.

Crack.

They were gone.

Mum! Mum! Mumumumumumumumum!

Hermione opened one eye as her spawn eyed her hopefully from the edge of the bed. Rodolphus' talons and tail curved around her body possessively as he slept.

Hermione sniffed, a small puff of smoke emitting from her nostrils.

Mummy!

What, spawn of mine?

You promised to go hunting today! Promised! Promised!

Hermione grunted, snuggling back into her mate's warm embrace. Not until night. You know that, my darling little menace.

Awwwww! Petulant whining and big black eyes met hers.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Grandmother is coming today. Clean your den.

The little monster perked, his tail waving happily, and his ears pointed eagerly forward. All of his dagger-like fangs were showing as he smiled widely. Minerva?!

You have another grandmother?

YAY! The spawn ran off into the cottage. The sounds of frantic cleaning came soon after.

Rodolphus was awake this time, his amused mental voice tickled her head. We should have named him Dawngreeter.

I wanted to name him Nightjar but nooo, you wanted to name him something more distinguished, Hermione sniffed into his mind.

I happen to quite like the name Thorne, I'll have you know, Rodolphus quipped.

Hermione grunted, twisting her tail around his. He purred in approval, and wrapped her in his powerful wings, proceeding to demonstrate the precise depth of his adoration. Gah, no! Company today!

Awwww! He mimicked his spawn.

Hermione growled and pounced him.

Good thing Minerva wasn't due for at least another hour or so.

Minerva arrived like most cats do, unexpectedly and on silent feet. Thankfully, Hermione and Rodolphus had transferred themselves into the main part of the cottage, and both were decent enough for company.

Thorne came in, pouncing on Minerva like a stalking wildcat, sending the elder Animagus flying onto the (thankfully) soft couch.

Minerva laughed merrily, hugging Thorne tightly. "You silly little rascal," she huffed. "You've grown so much!"

"I grew a whole inch!" he boasted with a cheeky grin.

"Impressive," Minerva laughed, winking at Hermione.

Hermione gave her a knowing look, shaking her head in clear amusement.

Rodolphus handed Minerva a perfectly brewed cup of Darjeeling, and she quaffed it almost immediately in its entirety.

"Long morning?" he enquired sympathetically.

"You know Hogwarts. Even during the summer holidays things break or need breaking," she sighed. "And then there's Peeves. Need I say more?"

Rodolphus snorted. "If you'd just ignore him, everyone for an entire day, he'll probably will himself into nonexistence due to not getting the attention he so desperately craves."

"The hard part there is 'everyone'," Minerva said with another sigh. "With Argus still there, there will always be someone who simply cannot look the other way. Peeves himself most of all."

"Pity," Rodolphus said with a sniff. "Anything we can do to assist?"

Minerva smiled at that. "I was wondering," she said slyly, "if you and Hermione might want to come teach DADA and Transfiguration. Our DADA professor seems to have eloped with our Transfiguration professor and then ran off to the Netherlands. Before you object, I have already gotten the Board of Governors to agree to my giving you joined quarters since you are married, and I have assured them that you will not elope to the Netherlands."

Hermione snorted into her teacup. "There is the matter of Rodolphus' unfortunate reputation thanks to dear Ronald running off and blabbering to the Prophet about demons."

Minerva sighed. "That boy. Can't pound two bricks together and get bread. Mr Potter cleared you. He made it a personal quest of his to find the collected grimoires of the Lestrange family, and he found better. Rabastan, apparently your parents kept extensive journals on what they did to you, Rodolphus, in case they would need to do the same to Rabastan."

Rodolphus twitched. "I do not want to imagine that my brother would have been… as endowed as we are."

Minerva shook her head. "Your reputation is perfectly clean, Rodolphus, and Hermione joined with you by choice, so whatever Ronald Weasley THINKS happened is all water under the bridge now. Besides, I hear that Molly refuses to hear a single word said against either of you and is demanding to see her grandbabies."

"Grand-spawn," Hermione said, eyeing Thorne.

Minerva chortled. "Come five or six years from now, he'll be right and ready for Hogwarts."

Rodolphus rubbed his chin. "I am trying to imagine our Thorne mixed up in a gaggle with Ronald Weasley's children. I am not sure if it qualifies as nightmare or therapy."

Hermione nudged her mate. "Thorne gets along just fine with the Weasley children. It's only Ronald who still sees us as demons incarnate.

Minerva huffed. "I don't see the two of you as demons at all. Yes, you have the most beautiful curving horns, a gorgeous mane of hair that is to die for, and a long tail that can pluck things off the top shelf with ease. Personally, I want your wings. I think those positively draconic wings are the most beautiful things I have ever laid eyes upon. He can't see beauty in a dragon either, so maybe it is just a hopeless case. What I wouldn't give to have a pair of my own and terrorise him a bit too."

Hermione and Rodolphus exchanged amused glances. "Well, you are family. It might work, if you really wanted to give it a try."

Minerva laughed. "I might, if you take me up on my offer."

Hermione and Rodolphus grinned. "You drive a hard bargain. You know we cannot resist the temptation to assimilate more family, and now that you've let our beasts know your true desire, well, you may have to put your affairs in order and get a cottage out here with us for the summer months."

Minerva laughed. "Didn't I tell you? Only the headmistress and you two will be cleared to stay at Hogwarts all year round. Someone has to keep Argus in line since he adopted that new kitten of his."

Hermione shook her head. "At least he's kind to kittens and cats. The same cannot be said for the human children or adults."

Mum! MUM! Mummy!

Yes, my spawn?

Are we going to live at Hogwarts!?

Hermione gave Rodolphus a knowing look.

"I think we must regretfully accept your offer," Rodolphus mused, giving Minerva a wink.

Thorn glomped onto Minerva projecting his excited mind voice very, very loudly. YAYYYY!

"I actually heard that," Minerva laughed, sticking her finger in her ear and twisting it. "Oh, what's this? I seem to have the contracts right here with me. However did that happen?"

Hermione laughed delightedly as Rodolphus pulled out the quills and ink.

Are you sure she wasn't actually a Slytherin, my mate?

I do wonder. Hermione lifted a brow.

Their beasts growled together. Want her.

Patience, Hermione and Rodolphus growled together in response. At least wait until the ink is dry.

Awww, the beasts replied, pouting.

Hermione looked at Rodolphus a bit wistfully.

What is it, my mate?

I think I'm going to put flowers on Hadleigh's grave today.

Rodolphus blinked in confusion. Why today?

I just realised that if it hadn't been for her, your transformation would never have become what it was. It would have been Dark and evil, not what we have at all. Because of her, I have you.

Rodolphus kissed her nose. And I have you, love.

They both turned to Minerva.

Their beasts growled in anticipation. And soon we'll have Minerva too.

Hermione and Rodolphus just smiled. Life was nothing without family. Best when that family could actually be chosen from those who had been proven to be steadfast and loyal friends.

Soon, they placated their beasts. Soon.

"Professor! Professor!"

"Hrm?" Hermione answered, watching over the various picnicking students by the Black Lake. Each cluster of students was going through a large hamper of food and looking as though they were enjoying every minute of it.

"Can Thorne come play with us?" the young wizards and a witch asked.

Thorne, who was stuffing his face with a sausage roll, looked up interestedly.

Hermione grunted. "What game, pray tell, will you be playing?"

The gaggle of students bounced hopefully. "Glide across Black Lake!"

Hermione eyed her spawn.

Thorne looked back at his mum, wiggling his wings at her with enthusiasm.

Hermione pretended to think hard. "Fine, but only one at a time. He's still young and his back is still forming the right muscles. I will be watching."

They all nodded excitedly.

Thorne glomped her mercilessly. Loveyouloveyouloveyouloveyoumum!

Hermione brushed him off with one wing. Have fun, my spawn.

Thorne went squealing down to the lake with his older friends.

A shadow of a large wing blotted out the sun just before Minerva sat down beside her. "Making even more friends, is he?"

"I don't think he can make enemies," Hermione laughed. "He's the very devil, if you listen to some. He can charm the skin off a snake."

Minerva laughed too, scratching at her ear with her talons. "I suppose so. Certain people seem to think that you corrupted me, just the same."

"It was a team effort, Minerva," Hermione said with grin. "And you were willing."

"Oh, I know I was willing," Minerva laughed. "I've tried to tell them that."

Hermione looped her tail and then corkscrewed it around Minerva's. The feeling of the family bond thrummed strongly, causing them both to purr loudly.

Minerva?

Hrm?

Can I call you mum?

Minerva's mind was bright and warm. Of course you can, love.

Hermione snuggled into her shoulder, her mind happy and warm. Somewhere far in the back of her mind she cheered, Yay!

I heard that, love, Minerva chuckled.

Love you, mum! Hermione replied.

The Scottish witch chuckled. As it should be.

Rodolphus eyed his spawn's den and raised an eyebrow. For a youngling not even old enough to legally wield a wand, he had ten Hogwarts friends staying the night. All of them were clumped together in a pile, blissfully snoring away their worries. He extinguished the candles and shook his head, quietly closing the door.

The sounds of soft conversation were coming from the next room over, and he chuckled to himself. Charlie Weasley was visiting again, and he was fast becoming like family. Becoming like family could be a good or a bad thing, depending on how things went, but it seemed that the more he socialised with Hermione and himself, the more he was willing to mend fences with the rest of the Weasleys. Percy, on the other hand, hadn't said a word to them since Hermione's transformation. He wasn't fearful, but he wasn't a social being in the slightest. Bill visited often with his wife, and there was a sort of ease between them that seemed to put Bill in better spirits and his wife, Fleur, in a much better place emotionally. Being an almost-werewolf and a half-Veela was a bit of a concern with most people, but among Rodolphus, Hermione, and Minerva that really wasn't a problem.

Hermione was often "forced" to socialise at the Burrow, and Ronald Weasley and his wife were "pressured" into watching Thorne. Molly, of course, saw nothing at all wrong with Hermione or her mate, and she had practically assimilated Hermione as her daughter almost from the time they first met. Harry and Ginny were always happy to see Hermione, and after a few rough patches trying to give over Rodolphus' past, all was forgiven.

Oddly enough, Lavender never saw Hermione or Rodolphus as anything but human, even when they weren't trying to hold onto that form. Minerva too, always looked the same to her. Rodolphus wasn't quite sure that meant, or even how it was possible. It seemed that some people people couldn't see their true forms. Hermione and Rodolphus had tested this theory on Halloween in Muggle London, and, sure enough, most Muggles didn't see them as anything but human. Why that was so in Lavender's case, however, they still had no idea.

Ironically, though her husband was positively mental whenever they were around, Lavender was utterly unaffected and those that knew the truth basically turned their eyes skyward and whistled innocently. She dismissed what her children "saw" as flights of fancy, and it wasn't like Hermione, Rodolphus, or Minerva felt especially inclined to correct her. It wasn't like they could prove it. She simply didn't see them as anything other than human. If anything, the arrival of Rodolphus made Lavender easier to be around because she didn't feel threatened by Hermione anymore. She also didn't show any interest in Rodolphus, which kept him from wanting to murder her. Bonus!

Fridays had become the official social outcast night, which was to say it was the night that Hermione, Minerva, and Rodolphus entertained their less social guests such as Severus and Draco. Both had seen more than their fair share of the war and post-war, but both also had lingering bad reputations that never quite went away. Minerva never lost faith in Severus again after she found out the truth behind his supposed "murder" of Dumbledore. Once she learned what Dumbledore had demanded of Severus, she redoubled her efforts to make sure "the stubborn boy" was not permitted to hide away in the dungeons all the time.

Despite their unpleasant past as teacher and student, Hermione had become quite fond of Severus, learning to appreciate his dry humour, endless sarcasm, and even the terribly awkward and almost shy affection he showed to those he considered friends. Learning of Rodolphus' transformation and torture, and even more importantly, that he wasn't a Pure-blood bigot, also helped a great deal. Slowly, much like the movement of maple sap in the midst of winter, he began to open up and even show up more frequently to join them for family dinners. The Lestrange family rarely ate together during dinner in the Great Hall, but they did make a point to have a family dinner every night in the Lestrange quarters. Severus even became quite protective of Hermione, in a wonderful brotherly sort of way, and that greatly pleased Rodolphus as well as Minerva.

Perhaps a year after they had made the connection of brotherly affection between them, Severus had joined the family, inducted in (or adopted in) by none other than Minerva. Much to Severus' initial confusion and discomfiture, Hermione would pounce him, greet him with "Hey brother!" and then entwine her tail with his and purr very, very loudly. It didn't take long, however, before Severus was purring along with her.

Severus had made the comment that they were a right family of misfits, but by that time, all of them knew that he was happier than he'd ever been in having been given the gift of family by choice. Thorne followed him everywhere he could, often entwining his tail with Severus' tightly when he followed him on night patrols. Night was their time to be up, so neither Lestrange seemed to mind. Their spawn was with their brother, so they did not feel he was ever in danger.

Thorn knew every potion ingredient by heart before a year's time, and all of them were very proud, Severus most of all. Draco and Harry taught him to fly on a broom, secretly amused that when Thorn got unbalanced, he would just fly down using his own wings.

"That's cheating," Draco huffed.

"How can using my natural talents be cheating, Uncle Draco?" Thorn whinged.

Being considered part of the family truly touched Draco, and it seemed to heal something deep in him just as Severus' assimilation had healed him. While Draco had no aversion to their species, he seemed tentative about the idea of being "adopted."

He's been seeing Astoria Greengrass, Severus shared mentally with a significant look.

Oh ho! Rodolphus exclaimed. No wonder our beasts are happy as things are. He's probably ecstatic just as he is.

Minerva and Hermione shook their heads, but they both knew it was probably true. Minerva, Hermione, Rodolphus, and Severus had no family but themselves. They had to make one of their own. Draco and Charlie, while emotionally close, were part of families who loved them dearly.

Hermione didn't speak of her own birth parents much after her transformation. She had tried to make contact after the change, but the event had been so traumatising for Hermione that she never mentioned it again. Apparently, much like how Lavender saw her as being human, her parents saw her as nothing but a monster. Hermione had tearfully obliviated their minds of her visit and had never gone back. It had broken her heart, partially for her own sake and later partially for Thorne's.

All she had was their adopted family, but she was happy now. For that, Rodolphus could only be very thankful. Minerva, invigorated by her transformation, was the loving, supportive mum that Hermione desperately needed, and she mothered on Severus and Rodolphus too. She had plenty of love to share. Sometimes she would wander the halls just as she used to— as one silver tabby cat— often joined by one displaced gargoyle who looked like she had escaped from her job of guarding Minerva's office.

Life was good, and Rodolphus had no complaints— not anymore. He had the brother he never had growing up, the mate he had thought impossible after Hadleigh's death, a mother who didn't want to turn him into a bestial slave to do her bidding, a wonderful home, and a healthy spawn.

Truly, there was nothing better than that.

Severus was leaning down, listening to Hermione's abdomen. He and Minerva took turns while Hermione looked like the cat that had just swallowed the canary.

He eyed his mate with considerable curiosity.

She looked innocently back at him, wearing her best, polished halo.

Surprise! She beamed at him.

Thorne beat away Severus and Minerva so he could place his hands and ear to his mum's belly.

I'mgonnahaveababysister! YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! He squealed mentally and very, very loudly with joy and pure excitement.

"How do you know it's going to be a sister, spawnling?" Severus asked him, idly scratching one wing with his opposite hand.

"She kicks me when I tickle her mind!" he answered, trusting his inner logic.

Rodolphus shooed his spawn away and put his ear up to Hermione's belly. He reached out mentally, examining the feel of the family bond.

KICK!

Well, then. Someone seemed to want her privacy at a very young age. Maybe his spawn was correct.

Rodolphus stood up again, grinning. "Time to build a new den for the future spawn."

"I'll build it!" Minerva volunteered, smiling brightly.

"I'll decorate it," Severus quipped with a small smirk. "I refuse to let any niece of mine sleep among ridiculous pastels."

Hermione wrapped her arms around Rodolphus' waist and beamed up at him.

Tenderly he pressed his mouth her hers, wrapping his wings around her.

I love you, she whispered, brushing his mind with hers with a light touch.

And I, you, he replied pinning her with his wings.

The next day, Hermione went to Hadleigh's grave and placed a smooth, black stone on her headstone.

"Thank you for everything," Hermione said, pressing her talons to her lips and kissing them before pressing them to the headstone.

As she walked away, the granite stone seemed to shimmer.

Hadleigh Sommers

Dearly beloved

Mother of us all

In us, you live eternal.

Tempest Cerys Lestrange was born in stormy September, fittingly in the midst of the most ferocious thunderstorm ever recorded in Scotland. She came out silent, like the eye of the storm, and then punched poor Thorne right in the nose. Draco immediately said the genetics were strong in this one, and helped towel the squirming older spawn off.

Tempest seemed to immediately fall in love with Draco, wrapping her velvety little tail around his wrist and staring up at him with her father's wide black and deep blue eyes. Her tiny mottled wings and pristine miniature horns shone with radiant health. It was there, in that moment, that something seemed to change in Draco. He held baby-spawn Tempest to his chest as though she were life itself, cradling her to him and rocking her as the wind would the trees.

Hrm, Severus noted with a raised eyebrow.

Hrm indeed, brother, Rodolphus replied, grinning broadly at the sight.

Hermione and Minerva perked as well.

Draco cradled Tempest to his chest, and the tiny spawnlet reached up, pulled herself up to his neck, and sank her baby fangs into his skin.

Draco stiffened and gasped, shuddering. Magic flared and merged with the family bond, and claws sprouted from his fingers as his eyes bled into black, leaving only the silver-grey irises. He groaned as his mouth filled with ivory fangs, a long tail sprouted from his posterior, and mottled white wings ripped their way out of his poor, unfortunate silk shirt. Most amazingly of all, he simply cradled the little spawnlet with such a look of pure adoration that it couldn't be denied. His new, pointed ears flicked this way and that as his hair grew long into a platinum blond mane that swept past his shoulders. A perfect set of crystalline horns curved back from his head and around his ears as tiny pearlescent scales spread across part of his forehead and around his ears.

Tempest squealed happily, pressing her tiny talons to his newly formed muzzle. Draco's new and improved tongue shot out instinctively and groomed the little spawnlet until she fell asleep, cradled carefully in his arms.

It took about ten minutes before Draco shook off the lull of powerful magic enough to realise that he even had Tempest in his arms. It took him another twenty to realise that he'd just undergone the change.

Welcome to the family, brother, Hermione, Severus, and Rodolphus chimed.

Minerva chuckled, her mental voice rumbling like a deep purr through their minds. Welcome to the family.

Draco looked down at his hands, felt his face, ears, and then grabbed his velvety tail with a look of utter bemusement on his face. I, uh… thank you?

He stared down at Tempest with a look of loving exasperation. "What the helf ahm I goingh to tell Ashtoria?" he tried to say, not used to his fangs or elongated tongue.

Hermione coughed in an attempt to choke back laughter. It didn't quite work out that well.

Draco looked at her with a mildly pained expression.

"You can sleep in my den tonight, brother," Severus offered, scratching his ear with one taloned hand. "A full day's sleep will help with the adjustment."

"Whaht ahm I going toh thell my parhrents?" Draco moaned, burying his head in his newly-taloned hands.

Severus sighed. "I will handle Lucius and Narcissa tomorrow while you are sleeping off the effects of the Change."

"What ehfe—" Draco abruptly fell back, passing out on the sofa with Tempest curled up snugly against his chest as it rose and fell in slumber.

Severus just sighed and shook his head. "Those effects."

Odd. He has living family. Biological family. Yet, he fully embraced the change. Rodolphus took his turn scratching idly at his ears.

Hermione, who seemed oddly unbothered by Draco cuddling her newborn spawnlet before she could, merely shrugged. Perhaps, my love, he found someone to truly love and in that moment, nothing else mattered to him.

Rodolphus grunted. I can certainly relate to that.

"Everyone can sleep here tonight," Hermione recommended. "I think the family bond will appreciate that. No one will want to be far from the little one tonight."

They all turned to see Thorne curled up on top of Draco as well, his arm wrapped around his newborn sister.

Minerva nodded. "I'll create a temporary den conjunction for Draco until the situation with his transformation is settled. I imagine he will not be able to go home for a while until things are— ironed out."

Rodolphus nodded grimly. "As accepted as we are, which is nothing short of miraculous even after the war, Draco's family is still rooted deeply in tradition and family expectations. It will be hard for him— not so much for him to assimilate to us, but for his blood family to accept that he is still their son."

Hermione seemed to think on something really hard. "Perhaps, we should test the waters a bit before sending our Severus out to make a fool of himself."

Severus eyed his sister oddly.

"Hear me out, brother," she said, gesturing for him to sit down. "Lavender cannot see me or Rodolphus as anything but human. One might say she is particularly opinionated about how things really are. Ronald sees us as terrifying demons, but he is also very set on seeing us as such. There is a very good chance that Lucius and Narcissa, as you described them, may not see Draco any differently. Astoria, I could not even begin to guess what her reaction might be, but there is a fairly high probability that his parents may not see a difference, and that may not be such a bad thing."

Severus sniffed, rubbing his chin, considering her words for several moments. "I believe it is worth giving it a shot," he decided at last. "I can always say that there was a potions accident while he was helping me to brew fresh supplies for the school, if things should happen to go pear-shaped."

Hermione nodded.

Rodolphus put a supportive hand on Severus' shoulder. "Will you need backup?"

Severus shook his head in the negative. "We all go way back. My control over my form is solid. I'm more than willing to take this chance for Draco's sake."

Rodolphus nodded. "Lucius believes that I was always the perfect little Pureblood prince. No newspaper articles or random hearsay is going to change his mind about me. My going will only make the situation worse because he will very likely switch into defensive gear. Do not take my not going with you as a sign that I do not wish do."

Severus shook his head and tapped it with a single talon. "I know, brother. I know."

Hermione let out a rather squeaky yawn, and both brothers turned to stare at her. They pointed their tails firmly towards the rear wing of the house.

Hermione gave them a small salute with her wing and sleepily shuffled off to her bed.

Severus pulled a warm quilt over Draco, Thorne, and Tempest. "We'll deal with whatever comes tomorrow."

Rodolphus gave Severus a pile of blankets and a pillow, tapping his wand to the nearby sofa to transform it into a bed. "Goodnight, brother."

"Goodnight," Severus answered, making up the bed in a flash and flopping down upon it with a weary sigh.

Rodolphus' eyes scanned the room, and then he, too, retreated into his lair to join his mate.

"Draco, dear, could you hand me that tin there on the mantle?" Narcissa asked, setting down the tea tray. "Please sit, Severus, you look like a spring ready to go sprong at any moment."

Severus sat, and Draco fetched the tin of elf-made biscuits from the mantle and handed it to his mother.

"Draco, dear, you look as pale as Severus, are you sure you aren't coming down with something?"

"Noh, mhother," Draco replied and then winced.

"Bite your tongue again in your sleep, love?" Narcissa looked sympathetically at her son. "You always did that as a child."

"Yesth," Draco replied, giving Severus a wry look.

Severus waved his hand negligently. "Too much Ogden's last night. I've warned him many times before about overindulgence."

Really, brother?

Would you prefer me to say that you were undergoing some personal transformations?

… fine.

Narcissa looked quite sympathetic. "He's just nervous about meeting with Astoria's parents, I think. Aren't you, dear?"

Draco paled.

Severus coughed discreetly into his tea. "Assuredly not. He is a Malfoy, after all."

Lucius popped his head in. "Ah, there you are, my wife. Draco. You are looking a bit pale, boy. Were you out drinking again?"

Draco slumped his shoulders.

"He was drinking with Severus again, Lucius," Narcissa explained.

"Ah, well," Lucius said. "At least he won't be showing up naked in the Hogsmeade fountain like Blaise Zabini."

Draco's grey eyes widened in shock.

"Yes, well," Lucius said. "I was at the Ministry when that particular report came in."

Draco's tail was twitching, but thankfully no one but Severus was noticing.

"Draco, son, I sorted out that mess with Lord Grantham," Lucius said. "He apologises for having mixed you up in that mess with Lord Shaylan and promises not to speak ill of young Miss Greengrass again."

"Thank yhou fhather," Draco mumbled.

Lucius looked at Draco a little strangely. "Less Ogden's, son. Your tolerance for the drink is complete rubbish." Lucius turned and walked out of the room.

"Sit, sit, Draco!" Narcissa demanded. "Let us talk of your plans."

Draco facepalmed and wondered what he ever did in a past life to deserve such torture. On second thought, brother. Murder me. Just— murder me. Please, I beg you.

No, brother. I did not watch over your sorry arse for nearly three decades to take you out of it just because you can't face your mother's questions. Severus arched a brow at him.

Draco gave a mental whimper.

Severus just turned to Narcissa and put on his best poker face.

Over a decade of serving two harsh taskmasters and hiding one's mind? No problem. Surely one nosy Narcissa Malfoy couldn't prove any worse than that?

"Draco, we really need to talk," Astoria said, wringing her hands. Draco had Tempest wrapped up and swaddled carefully so that her decidedly less-than-human appendages didn't show. Being around his family helped center him, and both Rodolphus and Severus had slammed the most powerful glamours in their repertoires over him to keep him as human-looking as possible until he could learn how to do it on his own.

Thankfully, Tempest was sound asleep, and that made much things easier all around. Being in the Lestrange family quarters at Hogwarts helped even more. Their energy was stable. Their mating bond was stable. The family bond was stable. The only thing that wasn't stable was Draco's imperfect ability to maintain control over his appearance, but they were hoping nothing too drastic happened to compromise the glamours that had been placed upon him.

"I've been having the most awful nightmares," Astoria told him. She twirled her hair nervously on her finger. "People in them, I think I know them, but then they turn scary— into these terrifying demons."

Draco's eyes widened.

"I know you'll say they that they are just dreams and they can't harm me, but, Draco, I've been studying Divination at The Third Eye Seers for a few years now. It's not like I'm new to it. I've read the signs but I just ignored them. They keep on getting worse. I wake up screaming every single time. I've talked with my parents already, Draco, and I'm really, really sorry. I just don't think we're meant for each other."

Draco looked down, staring down at the sleeping Tempest. "I... see."

"Please, don't hate me Draco," Astoria pleaded. "I really wanted it to work!"

Draco sighed. "I'm not angry, Astoria. No, really, I'm not. I'm just glad you told me now and not, you know, after my mum picked out a china pattern and everything."

Astoria laughed sharply and cried a little. "You're really not angry?"

He shook his head adamantly. "I would never, ever want to force you into anything, Astoria. We gave it a pretty good shot together. Who am I to argue with fate?"

Astoria sighed in clear relief. "I know you don't believe in Divination, Draco, but you have always supported my beliefs. I thank you for that."

Draco nodded.

"I've already told my parents, and I think my father is talking with yours this afternoon. Thank you, Draco, for understanding."

"Be safe, Astoria," he said as he let her out the door.

Astoria gave him a small peck on the cheek and hurried down the hallway and out the door.

Draco closed the door, closed his eyes, and unfolded the wings that he had very tightly wrapped around himself just to make sure he didn't accidentally knock over a priceless vase in mid-conversation. He let out a long, deep sigh of pure relief. "Thank Merlin," he breathed, sagging down into the sofa.

He lay on his back on the sofa, holding Tempest tightly to him. "I'm never making fun of Divination ever again."

Control, at least for Draco, came after a few months. Ironically, it was also when Tempest gained her first wing spur and promptly socked Draco in the face with it. Severus and he set up shop in what they jokingly referred to as the Luxurious Bachelor Pad.

Severus taught Draco control, and Draco gave him half the flat and a potions research lab to die for. Draco took up with the family business, taking up, ironically, the Muggle side of things. He found that it was far easier to communicate with people over the phone, internet, and what have you on his own terms. Most of the time, he didn't have to meet anyone face-to-face, and by the time he did, Severus had him well-prepared for it.

Family dinners continued to held regularly on Fridays, and even in the summer months when Severus and Draco lived in their luxury flat, they took comfort in their bond as brothers. Once Tempest was able to travel, which wasn't too long after they moved to the flat thanks to the magic of pumped breast milk, which Draco really didn't want to ask about, Tempest got to visit her favourite uncles at least once or twice a week. The floo network was truly a glorious thing.

Sometimes, when times were stressful, everyone slept under the Lestrange roof, so to speak, absorbing the stabilising effect of the family bond. Hermione and Rodolphus never seemed to mind. They had given up on trying to hold sleepovers at Minerva's after Albus' portrait kept falling off the wall.

Harry ended up finding out about Draco during the summer family picnic. Harry had invited "the family" and Hermione and Rodolphus weren't exactly going to show up without their entire family. When Harry laid eyes on Draco, his eyes practically bugged out of his skull.

"Draco?" Harry blurted, taking in Draco's new appearance with comically wide eyes. "What the hell, mate?"

"I, uh, was bitten— by a spawnlet?" Draco volunteered sheepishly.

"I thought it had to be willing?" Harry asked, looking somewhat suspicious.

Draco looked sheepish. "I, uh, well, I think it was."

"You think— it was?"

Draco scratched his ear frantically with his talons. "Just— hold her okay? Trust me, you'll understand." He thrust Tempest into a startled Harry's arms.

Tempest's tiny talons grabbed Harry by the hair, and she cooed at him, her little tail wrapping around his wrist.

Harry Potter, vanquisher of the Dark Lord Voldemort, war hero, and survivor of the Second Wizarding War, was instantly undone. He became a cooing, loving, member of the uncle cult and proceeded to love on the little she-spawnlet like there was no tomorrow.

Ginny, too, was far from immune from Tempest's charms, and Molly practically stole the tiny spawnlet for the entire afternoon. Lavender thought she was cute as a button (even though she thought she was fully human,) and Ronald— well, Ronald never could see them as anything other than hideous demons.

Bill and Fleur happily set their children loose on the gathering, Percy was a no-show, and Charlie showed up with the basket of baby firelizards he was taking care of. The kids enjoyed feeding the baby firelizards, and the adults had some peaceful time to themselves without needing to worry about their children. Thorne gave each of the other children "rides" across the surf, and all of them collected piles of shells to bring back to Shell Cottage.

Fleur taught all the children the very useful sand removal spell her mother had taught her, stating that it was the very first spell she had ever learned, and she had never needed a wand to perform it. The spell was, not surprisingly, in French, but it was short and very easy to remember. No one was complaining about that.

For whatever reason, Molly's firm acceptance of Hermione's state and then Rodolphus, Severus, and Draco too had trickled further on and had Molly accepting Fleur at long last. Finally, it seemed, the entire Weasley line was okay with each other — even Percy, who just preferred to keep to himself. Fred and George supposed that Percy was just embarrassed about coming out to his family, but none of them really knew the reason behind his complete lack of social inclination. It wasn't like all of them didn't know already, but Arthur told Molly to give the boy some time. He had, Arthur reckoned, always been a little slow to find acceptance— more so accepting acceptance when he didn't think he was going to get it.

The Weasley family dynamic was never easily understood by outsiders, and Hermione confessed that she was happy with the smaller and more intimate family life. What mattered to her was that most of the Weasley family was okay with both her and her chosen family. Save for Ron, who was convinced she had been corrupted by a demon, she was accepted. Harry, thankfully, stood by her side against Ronald, and she expressed her gratitude for it often.

Thanks to Harry, Rodolphus and Hermione were not seen as freaks, their species were not considered ineligible for wands, and no one seemed to mind they were teaching their kids. Rodolphus and Severus thought it was quite surreal.

"Maybe it is what like my mum did for me when she died," Harry said one night. "Maybe when Hadleigh died, her death cast a spell that not only protected Rodolphus, but every one of his bloodline. Maybe because the selflessness, not just for him or even her child, but literally every being like him. Her faith in him was that strong, that it changed his transformation and protected him and all that came after him from blind prejudice— well mostly everyone."

Hermione tilted her head at Harry. "You really have grown up, Harry."

Harry gave her a lopsided grin. "Think about it though," he speculated. "People who are accepting see you for what you are but are okay with it. People who have a set expectation of what to expect, often see you like that. Ron expects to see you as a demonic creature, so he sees you as one. Most Muggles see you as human because they don't have a preconceived notion of what you would look like outside of being human. The only thing I cannot figure out is why your parents saw you as something nightmarish—"

Hermione shook her head. "It's because they don't trust me anymore, Harry," she said with a sad smile. "Not really, anyway. Ever since I sent them to Australia, they said they forgave me, but I don't think they really did. They don't know me anymore, and deep down, I don't think they want to. The magical world is too scary. So, when they think of me, they think of scary magic, and when they see me, they see scary magic made form."

Rodolphus rubbed his mate's back, and she leaned into him.

"It's okay though, Harry," Hermione said. "Things are better now for me. I have far better things to focus on."

Harry smiled at her. "I'm glad you are happy, Hermione. I am also glad I see you for what you are."

Hermione chuckled. "A winged mutant?" she offered.

Harry smiled and put his hand over hers, squeezing her talons slightly. "My best friend."

Hermione beamed at him, her eyes flashing with the radiance of the sun.

"Hey, Potter," Draco said, interrupting. "Race you to the lagoon and back."

Harry hopped up, summoning his broom without a wand or verbal spell. "You're on, Malfoy."

The pair zoomed off into the distance, disappearing down the beach— one on a broom and the other with the wings he bore.

Hermione chuckled as Severus snorted nearby, flipping the page of the book he was reading. Molly, Lavender, and Ginny were cooing over Tempest, who was charming them up one side and down the other. Thorne was learning French from Bill and Fleur's kids, and Fred and George were teaching the other Weasley children how to prank Ronald. As she felt the warm wrap of her mate's wing around her and his tail corkscrew around hers, she leaned into his shoulder and purred.

Everything was going to be just fine. The demon within had a heart of gold.

I love you, she whispered into her mate's mind.

I love you too, Rodolphus purred a reply.

Far off, in a small graveyard marked by a cherry tree and a cluster, the lone grave of Hadleigh Sommers seemed to sparkle and shimmer with light. On top of the grave, a small plant known as the live-forever moved back and forth in the wind, its white and pink star-shaped flowers moved like individual stars. As the petals waved in the breeze, the sound of chimes seemed to ring out over the hill.

A book sat open to one particular page, charmed to never succumb to the elements. There was the sound of woman's laugh, high and joyous to behold. The page turned, yet there was no wind at that exact moment.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

-Robert Frost