Bonds of Servitude Ch. 18 (Patreon)

The inside of the Flying Dutchman was the strangest place any of them had seen. There were torches lining the walls, giving off a pale silver light, and though they shone quite brightly, they barely illuminated a radius of about a foot.

Which meant that, as the group followed behind the spectral figure of Davy Jones, they were walking on purez, inky blackness. Only the sound of creaking wooden floorboards under their feet convinced them that they were not, in fact, walking on a void.

“Do you think we'll have to fight him?” Bellatrix whispered. “What was that spell you used against Lucy again, Andi?”

“Your troubles are concluded.” Despite being several feet ahead of them, it seemed that Davy Jones had heard her. “This is merely transport to the pit, not some hidden trial.”

The group let out a collective breath as they passed by a porthole.

Hermione gasped at what she saw, and she was soon followed by the others.

They were sailing underwater, and outside the porthole, they could see skeletal sharks and fish that were mere bones swimming about. Dead creatures acting as if they were still alive in an ocean tinted a sickly green.

“Where is this?” Andromeda asked.

“Would you really care to know?” Was the answer they received.

They continued on through the pitch darkness, always in a straight line, even once they'd surely walked twice the length of the ship.

Finally, the ghostly pirate stopped, a key hanging off a thread swinging round his hooked hand.

“These will be your lodgings for the remainder of the trip.”

As he spoke, the light from the silver torch spread out ever so slightly, illuminating a gnarled wooden door.

“We will not reach the pit until just prior to dawn. Dinner will be served at seven and no later, so be punctual.”

“And how exactly will we know how to make it there?” Harry asked.

Davy Jones' lips curled upward as he looked down at the boy, “On this ship, there is but one path you can follow, and it will take you where you need to be.”

The inside of the cabin was actually quite normal. There was no porthole for them to see outside, but the torchlight that lit it was a less unsettling orange hue. The room was bare, with only a simple bed and a tattered old wardrobe with a missing door, but it was fine.

“Well, I guess there's no need to conjure up anything more comfortable, seeing as we're not going to be sleeping here.” Bellatrix said as she glanced around the bare room.

“I don't know, I could use a rest after what we just went through. That squid was monstrous.” Andi said.

Darcia leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. “I don't think I'll feel comfortable enough to rest until we have mother back. I know he said our trials were over, but I'm not going to trust it.”

“A wise decision, mistress.” Tom commended.

“Should we even go down for that dinner? What if that's the trial and we all get lost and separated in those hallways?” Hermione asked.

Harry's stomach rumbled and his cheeks flushed. “Erm… Andi, did we bring any food?”

Andi grimaced. “We didn't. Big oversight on our part.”

“I think we can be cautious and still go down there.” Bellatrix said. “Either way, if going down for dinner is actually some trial, we'll have to go through with it if we want to get to that blasted pit, so I don't see any other option.”

Everyone agreed, and so it was decided that they would go down and see what type of dinner was served at the Flying Dutchman.

…

“All right, everyone secured?” Andromeda glanced behind her.

All six of them were connected by a length of enchanted rope which had been tied around their wrists. Andromeda lead while Tom was pulling up the rear.

“We're good.” Harry called from the middle as everyone tugged at their knot to prove its sturdiness.

“Lumos Sequi!’

Tom cast the large orb of light, which floated out from the tip of his wand and over towards the front of the queue.

Only for it to fizzle out instantly, leaving only a wisp of smoke before the darkness engulfed even that.

“Figures.”

The trip down the dark corridor was tense but ultimately uneventful. There were no turns, and the scenery did not change until they found themselves upon an ornate steel door brightly lit by four torches.

Andi cast a diagnostic charm on the handle which came back negative. Even so, she was mighty tentative as she reached out to grasp it.

It was icy cold to the touch, but it did not immediately curse her, and Andromeda turned it with a bit more confidence.

All of them flinched as they were assaulted by light.

Not that the dining room was overly lit, but even its semi-dim lighting took some getting used to after being plunged in darkness for so long.

“Ah, you've made it.” Davy Jones sat at the head of a long, rectangular table. The dining room was quite fancy, and it brought Hermione memories of the photographs she'd seen of the Titanic. Two winding staircases dominated the background, though as one's eyes trailed upward it became evident that they led to nowhere, attaching to the wall.

What was most shocking to the group was that they were not alone with the specter. No, there were quite a few people at the table.

“Who are they?” Bellatrix questioned cautiously as she dispelled their rope.

Davy Jones raised a ghostly eyebrow, “What? Did you think you were the only ones after the fount? Now sit, I cannot guarantee the food will remain warm for much longer.”

There was a veritable feast at the table, with mashed potatoes, a roast turkey, greens, bread and other assorted foods. Harry and the others shuffled in, taking the six empty seats on the end opposite Davy Jones, though Tom had to conjure some books to be able to see over the table.

It became evident that the others at the table were two separate groups. On one side were five smartly dressed Chinese wizards. The one in the middle was the oldest, though he looked to be only in his mid-forties, and Andi wondered if whomever they had come for was in a similar state to Cissa.

On the other side were two women. One was very elderly and frail, with the other woman spooning soft food into her mouth. The younger woman was an absolutely gorgeous blonde, blue eyed woman. Her silvery blonde hair bore an otherworldly glow to it, and it was almost as if her entire body was surrounded by a halo of light.

“You are a veela.” Tom stated simply.

Andi wanted to smack the gnome in the back of the head for being so blunt, but the woman did not seem offended. She let out a light, airy laugh.

“I must say, I was not expecting a talking garden gnome on this trip.”

Her English was far too perfect for there not to be a translation charm running through the dining room.

“Its complicated.” Darcia spoke up.

“I was not expecting to see children either, what an interesting group.”

Her eyes scanned them. None of them noticed the way they widened as they fell on Harry.

She turned her head and whispered to the elderly lady. The woman turned her head to face them, her sunken in eyes boring into the group.

“So you're here to bring back her youth?” Bellatrix asked between bites of her food.

The young veela nodded. “She is the coven mother, it is my great honor to bring her back to full bloom.”

“What about you guys? Who are you trying to heal?” Harry asked the Chinese gentlemen.

The elder wizard in the group adjusted his rectangular framed glasses. “There is no one to heal. When the Jade Pool is used by someone in good health, it greatly extends their longevity and revitalizes their being.”

“So you're just doing this for vanity?” Hermione blurted out.

The man's eyes narrowed, “I am a man of means.”

“And one of these guys is ok with sacrificing themselves for that?” Harry asked.

The men shared glances, and the leader shook his head. “The man whom I have chosen is in my debt. He will be doing his family a great service by clearing it. These are our ways.”

Harry and Hermione decided they'd had enough of that conversation, turning away from the men who promptly returned to conversing quietly amongst themselves.

“So.” The veela asked, clear interest in her eyes. “Who are you here for?”

Andi cleared her throat. “My sister. We've got her back in the cabin.” That was a lie, they kept Narcissa's endless bag with them at all times, “She is gravely ill.”

The veela nodded. “And, if I may ask, who will be the sacrifice?”

“I will.” Tom spoke up.

She blinked. “A gnome? Quite a clever way to circumvent the rules. I hope it works.”

“It's complicated.” Bellatrix grumbled out.

The meal continued mostly in silence. Davy Jones had faded away once they'd gotten settled. The food was decent, certainly much better quality than one would expect on a ghost ship.

Throughout the entire meal, Harry couldn't help but feel eyes on him. Whenever he looked at either side of the table though, he couldn't catch anyone in the act.

The meal ended and everyone rose from their seats. The Chinese group left without a word through a door on their side of the table, but as Harry and the others were about to do the same, the young veela walked up to them, resting her hand on the table as the other went to her stomach.

“Excuse me.” She smiled at the group before her eyes settled on Harry. “You are Harry Potter, no?”

Harry shifted a bit uncomfortably. Due to his status, he'd never had to really face his supposed fame among purebloods who only looked down on him. “Yes. Are you alright?” he asked, noting her slight grimace.

“The food on this ship did not agree with me, I'm afraid.”

“You're not the only one.” Hermione said as her stomach rumbled away. “I think the potatoes might have been spoiled.” Darcia began to rub her back as she tried to tame her insides.

The woman refocused on Harry, visibly fighting with her discomfort, “I am sorry. The den mother and I were just curious. We would like to thank you, Mr. Potter. Your exploits against the Dark Lord have reached far and wide.”

Harry doubted they'd heard of his real encounter with Voldemort, but he smiled back all the same. “Thank you.”

And with that, she turned and swept away in a hurry. At least now Harry knew who he'd been watched by and why.

Bella grabbed onto his arm. “Well, lets go back, got a few more hours to go before we make it.”

…

Nymphadora was sometimes confused about what her surname was supposed to be. Was she still a Tonks? Or was she a Black? Or even a Malfoy?

She knew what surname the baby in her arms was getting. As Nym looked down at the gorgeous newborn girl with her father's bright green eyes, she would throw any expected of decorum to the wind, her daughter's name would be Cassiopeia Potter.

Nym had long debated over using such a stereotypical Black family name for her girl, but her mum and her aunt had been swimming in her mind, and the smile on the old dog's face when he'd heard the name had definitely been worth it. Besides, she would just call her Cass.

Her great grandfather had been a surprise. She hadn't expected the grumpy old man to have stood by her and Penny during the labor, but he'd been a comforting presence. He hadn't been in the delivery room when Tonks had been screaming her head off, but he'd provided his silent support and some delicious sweets afterwards.

Penny had been by her side the entire time, and Nym couldn't help but smile at the girl as she dozed off in the chair next to the bed. Her hair was a frizzled mess, and if Nym wasn't so exhausted and cradling a newborn, she would have tried to lean over and brush some of the strands that fell on her face.

The door to the ward creaked open and Tonks glanced, expecting to see her great grandfather returning with some food from the cafeteria.

Instead, she was greeted by a busty redhead lady and her twelve year old niece.

“Amelia. Detective Bones.” Tonks couldn't help the grin that formed on her face as the elder Bones rolled her eyes while Susan giggled.

“How are you feeling, Tonks?” Susan asked, her eyes sweeping over her before landing on the baby.

From Tonks’ side, Penny stirred.

“About as well as you can feel after pushing an entire human out of your vagina.” She shrugged.

The Bones women stepped up to the edge of the bed, staring intently at the sleeping baby, “What did you name her?”

“Cassiopeia.” Penny spoke up, a hint of pride in her voice. “We'll call her Cass.” She added hastily, something she felt would become the norm for them.

“Cass.” Susan mouthed in wonder as she stared at the babe.

Tonks giggled. “Want to hold her?”

“Really?”

“We're all together in this kooky little arrangement, aren't we? Besides, I have a feeling you're a bit more maternal than your aunt.” Tonks quipped.

Amelia glared. “I'm warming up to the idea. Quite rapidly, actually.” She shifted her weight, resting her hand on a bag at her side. “Has Skeeter been around?”

Tonks shook her head. “Not yet.”

“I have to give it to the woman, she's always diligent about her work.”

“So it worked?” Penny asked hopefully.

Amelia smiled as she dug into her bag. After some searching she pulled out some warped pieces of gold which were burnt at the edges, tossing them onto the foot of the bed.

Nym and Penny looked on in awe. “Hufflepuff's cup.”

Amelia nodded proudly. “Went off without a hitch. Rodolphus LeStrange was found in a back alley, and after Rita's article comes out in the morning, there will be some very serious talks about binding magical cores for high-risk inmates to prevent escape.”

As Susan rocked the baby in her arms, the other woman felt a surge of triumph. This had been a coup, especially since they'd managed to get Dumbledore to agree to the whole plan. The old man had even given them a special invisibility cloak, which had allowed Amelia to sneak into Gringotts behind the ‘escaped’ LeStrange without being detected. They had even gotten the old man to admit that in a war, it would be best if their enemies were completely neutralized, hence why Amelia had left a dead Death Eater to be discovered in Knockturn Alley.

Albus Dumbledore with the gloves off was a terrifying idea indeed. And he was a great ally to have by your side.

Now, they were down to just two horcruxes. One of them was Tom, and the other was the Diadem.

They had no clue where the Diadem was, and that was a very worrying thought, as it was clear that Voldemort had moved it while possessing Quirrell. Still, one horcrux was better than six, and if they managed to bind the magic of the dark lord's followers, they would be dealing another great blow to the monster.

Things were looking up.

…

They were sitting on the floor of the cabin, having conjured up some pillows and comforters as they whiled the remaining time away. Hermione took a short nap to mend her upset stomach, but everyone else was far too wired for sleep.

A loud, thundering creak reverberated through the wooden hull of the ship.

“Does that mean we've arrived?” Darcia asked.

“I'm sure Mr. Jones will be by soon to let us know.” Tom said.

The cabin began to shake and rumble a bit more fervently, and if any of them had been standing, they would have surely lost their footing.

“Or maybe we're getting moored on some rocks.” Bella said as she knelt, gingerly trying to rise to her feet.

The trembling turned into rumbling turned into a violent rattling that forced Bella back down. Andi created a protective bubble around them just as they heard a loud crack.

The walls of the cabin caved outward, and to their utter shock, they found themselves inside of an underground cavern, the sounds of burbling liquid filling the air.

Darcia sighed. “After this, nothing will truly surprise me.”

They were standing in the middle of what had been their cabin and now appeared to be one of those large wooden crates used to transport large magical creatures.

Around them were two other similar crates, with the veela duo and the chinese businessmen stepping out of them.

The cavern was vast, covered in stalagmites and stalactites and permeated by a deep, sulphuric odor. They could hear bats chirping away on the ceiling, their red eyes blinking in and out periodically like strange stars in a warped sky.

Following the sounds of bubbling liquid, everyone's eyes landed on the centerpiece of the cavern.

Finally, they had arrived at the Lazarus Pit.

It was a deep pool, a circle of stalagmites functioning as pillars that framed it almost the entire way around. The liquid looked green, a color eerily similar to that of the killing curse, and based on the bubbles that bloated from its surface and expanded slowly before popping, its consistency was closer to that of a mud bath than a pool of water.

“Welcome, to the Fountain of Fair Fortune.”

Appearing out nowhere in front of the entrance to the pit was the most nondescript man any of them had ever seen.

Well, nondescript was the wrong word to use. He was extremely unique due to his lack of features. It was almost as if someone had molded an adult man out of clay and given up halfway through.

He wore a plain gray robe and had no hair, not even eyebrows. His skin was a pasty white, his eyes lacked pupils, leaving only blank white orbs to stare back at them. He was of average height, and somehow, Harry began to doubt that there was even a body under that shapeless robe.

“Who among you wishes to be first?”

The three groups shared looks. The young veela was the first to speak up, “We are content to be last. We are in no hurry “

“In that case, I will be first.” The Chinese businessman said imperiously. Bella frowned, but she let it go. It was insignificant, in the grand scheme of things.

“Who shall be your sacrifice?”

One of the younger men stepped up. He had a nervous look on his face, his legs shaking as he followed behind his boss as they walked over towards the guardian of the Pit.

“You are willing and able?” The guardian asked in a monotone voice.

“Y-Yes.” The young man stuttered out.

“Very well.”

A pale arm emerged from under his robe. It was thin to the point of malnourishment, skin hanging off of bone. His fingers were freakishly long and spidery, and the young man couldn't help but jump in shock and fear as the guardian placed his hand on his forehead.

The young man began to convulse, blood leaking out of his mouth as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. As the others could do nothing but watch, the man's body began to wither away, its life force being drained as the once healthy body turned into a dessicated corpse in the blink of an eye.

The guardian pulled his hand back and the bag of flesh and bones crumpled to the floor, the grotesque sound of bones crumbling echoing throughout the cavern.

The business man seemed quite shaken up by the scene. Hermione was as well, and she squeezed the life out of Darcia's hand, who looked on with a detached, blank expression.

The guardian held an orb of pure white light in the palm of his hand. He extended his hand out to the pool, and the soul zipped off into the gunky depths.

The pool began to glow an even brighter green as the guardian looked toward the businessman. “You may enter.”

The man startled slightly, but he did as instructed, not bothering to remove his clothing as he walked over to the pool's edge and then waded into the viscous substance.

The others watched on in fascination as the man settled into the pool, the substance seeming to reach up to his chest, before he was suddenly tugged down by some unseen force.

There were muddled sounds of thrashing, though the concoction was so thick that it was almost impossible to struggle against it.

“What is the meaning of this?” One of the businessman's lackeys yelled, sweat pouring down his brow.

The guardian did not answer, and though the men's hands had jumped to their wands, they clearly thought better of attacking the mysterious being.

Air bubbles began to emerge from where the businessman had been pulled down, first coming rapidly before slowing down.

A final large bubble popped, and after a tense moment, a body burst through from the water.

The man had been transformed. He looked much younger now, handsome. He appeared to be in his mid-20's, and that wasn't all, his previously average physique had transformed as well, as muscles now rippled against the fabric of his soaked robes.

“I feel magnificent! I've never felt this alive!”

“Step out of the pit.”

The man complied, grinning ear to ear as he rejoined his men, not worried one bit by his soaked robes.

The moment he rejoined his group, the ground under them shifted, and a large earthen pillar lifted up from the ground, shooting them up to the ceiling of the cavern.

Up above, a hole just the size of the pillar opened up, shining daylight down on them for just a second before the pillar sealed the hole.

Once sealed, the pillar thinned out near the center, pinching off in the middle and leaving behind a fresh pair of stalagmites and stalactites.

“Next.”

Harry and the girls were snapped out of their awe at what had just happened. Andi dropped her bag at her feet, and with a flick of her wand, Narcissa was levitated out in her casing.

Andi levitated her sister over to the guardian, who held a finger out. When his finger touched Cissy's protection, the crystal shattered, leaving the pale form of Lady Malfoy to fall into the arms of the guardian.

“And who shall be your sacrifice?”

Tom nodded towards the others. “It has been an honour, mistresses, fellow servants.”

Bellatrix bit her lip as she placed a hand on Tom's shoulder and squeezed, “For a bastard trapped in the body of a gnome, you weren't that bad, Tom.”

Tom bowed his head. “Thank you, mistress Bella. I am glad to be of service.”

Tom began walking over to the guardian, but the man's face, up to this point completely emotionless, curled down into a snarl.

“What is the meaning of this? Do you wish to play a trick on me?”

Tom stopped, and the others blanched.

“We don't mean to play any tricks, sir.” Harry said hurriedly. “Tom's soul is human,”

“That is immaterial. This is but a sliver of a soul, nothing more than a morsel. It is not a proper sacrifice.”

Everyone's eyes widened as they exchanged panicked looks.

“Choose a proper sacrifice, or you shall begone.”

“I'll do it.” Harry chirped up, “I'll save Cissy.”

“You'll be doing no such thing!” Andi snapped. “If anything, it should be an adult making the sacrifice. Bella, make sure to take care-”

“You're out of your mind if you think I'll let you sacrifice yourself, Andi.” Bellatrix spat, twirling her wand in her hand, “That's not going to happen.”

“I do not have time for squabbles.” The guardian's voice thundered, “Make your choice, now!”

Panic was really beginning to set in as Andromeda and Bellatrix stared at each other while the children looked between them in worry. Bella raised her wand, perhaps thinking of wrapping her sister up in chains, when a frail voice spoke up.

“I will be your sacrifice.”

Everyone's heads snapped over to where the elderly veela lady was slowly stumbling towards the guardian, barely able to remain upright even with her cane.

“Wait, why?” Darcia asked.

“We owe a great debt to the Boy-Who-Lived.” She rasped out. “It is the least this old lady could do to repay it.”

Throughout all this, her companion stood firm, not putting in much effort to dissuade her elder from her choice.

“Really? You would give up your life just like that?” Andromeda asked.

The six of them were confused, completely befuddled. These women barely knew them, and yet they were willing to throw away their entire journey just like that?

“Acceptable.” The guardian said as he beckoned the veela forth.

The younger veela was spared from witnessing her elder being drained as a pillar of earth lifted her off into the surface world. In mere moments, she disappeared.

Despite the older veela practically being flesh and bones already, the soul the guardian extracted was just as big as the younger man's, and inside its light swirled multi colored sparkles that made it all the more beautiful.

“This is it.” Darcia whispered.

They held their collective breaths as the guardian tossed the soul into the waters and then carried Narcissa's body to the pool's edge.

Time stopped as Narcissa's form slipped from his hands, her silky dress fluttering before her body was swallowed up by the gunky, bubbling liquid.

Harry felt his heart pound inside of his chest. This was it, all their trials and tribulations had led to this very moment. There was a lump in his throat, worried that something would go wrong, something would go awry.

Narcissa emerged from the pool with a loud, gasping breath. Her blonde hair was soaked and dripping with the green, slimy substance. Her thin robe clung to her form. Her skin, so pale and sickly before, was now a perfectly smooth and creamy alabaster.

“W-Where am I? What is this?!” Narcissa's voice was angelic, not at all like the voice of a woman who had not spoken a word in months.

“Cissa!”

“Mum!”

“Mistress Narcissa!”

They rushed over to her, tears welling up in their eyes as Narcissa's own eyes widened as she took them in, recognition dawning in them.

The guardian spread his arms wide, and the six of them stopped in their tracks a an overwhelming sense of existential dread filled them.

“You are not permitted.” His voice rumbled, shaking them to their core through its sheer power.

Narcissa was stumbling out of the pool now, sobbing as she brushed past the guardian and wrapped her arms around Bellatrix.

“I-I died! I-I thought I was dead!”

Bella was struggling to hold back her own tears as the others collapsed around them. Narcissa didn't know who to grab, going from Andi to Harry to Darcia as her older sister held her tight, finally giving in to her tears.

“Harry! Oh Harry! You saved me!” Narcissa kissed the boy's forehead, and Harry sobbed into her chest.

“Darcia. My baby!”

Darcia was clinging onto her mother for dear life, crying into her soaked gown, wheezing as everything she had bottled up since the encounter with Voldemort came bursting to the surface.

Even if all those terrible things had happened to her, she had her mother back, and that made a difference.

It made all the difference in the world.

Tom stayed in the periphery. He did not cry, but he felt a sense of euphoria at having been of use. As he basked in the moment, he realized he had never felt truly happy. Never in his previous life had he thought himself capable of half of the emotions he was now experiencing.

Love truly was a wonderful thing.

The ground rose under them, a gap opened up in the cave above and fresh, bright sunlight bathed them, feeling like an exclamation mark to their moment of pure bliss.

They emerged onto a gorgeous beach. The waves were crashing against the shore as the early morning warmed their skin.

They could have been wrapped up in their hug forever, but a familiar voice brought them back to reality.

“You guys are back already?!”

They were back in the same beach where it had all begun, and the Greengrass girls were hopping off their beach chairs and throwing off their sunglasses as they rushed over to them.

Pushed up against Cissy's bosom, Harry sniffled away his tears, sporting a grin so broad that it hurt his cheeks, and yet he felt as if he never wanted to stop smiling.

They'd brought Cissy back. Her skin felt warm, he could feel her heart beating and he could hear her melodic voice as she continued to cry. Soon, they would be able to talk, he would sit on her lap and let her wrap her arms around him in a hug. And later on, he would kiss her, they would all kiss her, and they would shower her with their love.

…

Deep in the Carpathian mountains, somewhere within the borders of Romania (or perhaps Slovakia?), lay a small yet regal castle on a cliffside. The castle was high up on a mountaintop, above the clouds themselves. In the scattered villages down below, a legend had grown about the castle that hikers swore they'd caught a glimpse of once, only for it to disappear behind a cloud.

For the muggles, it was just that, a myth, a mirage, a trick of the light that fooled tired and weary travelers who were near their journey's end.

But the Castle in the Clouds was very much real, and at this moment, it was bustling with movement.

Apolline Delacour took harried steps as she searched for her mother. There was a flurry of veela arriving at the same time as she had, which was to be expected with how hastily this whole thing had been organized.

Seeing so many veela gathered together in one place was a shock even to her. It was the world's greatest runway show.

Not all veela were blonde and blue eyed. There were redheads and brunettes, along with even more exotic colors running the gamut from pink to green and everything in between. Skin tones ranged from the pure porcelain white to dark caramels, chocolates and mochas from the south american and african veela (though they chose a different name to call themselves.). There were veela from every corner of the world and every ‘ethnicity’ (the concept had no meaning to them), and their shared veela heritage connected them in their appearance: they were all gorgeous beyond the means of any human, with bodies that defied age, gravity and even physics. Everyone here carried perfect asses, bountiful chests and angelic visages, though proportions and features varied.

Variety was the spice of life, after all.

“Mother!” She called as she made a beeline for a gorgeous woman that looked no older than forty who wore a bored expression on her face.

“Apolline, you've finally arrived.”

Céline Babineaux had always been a perfectionist, but then, you couldn't be the representative of the entire Veela nation in France without having an eye for fine detail. Céline was a staid, haughty woman, and while Apolline had made a conscious effort not to absorb those elements of her mother's personality, her eldest daughter had chosen to emulate her. She couldn't blame Fleur, Céline was a powerful woman, someone worthy of praise.

Said powerful woman was leaning elegantly against a pillar with a cigarette in hand. She almost made it look as if she meant to stand in that spot, as if she preferred it, when the truth was, this entire thing had been called in such a rush, no one had even thought to conjure seating for everyone.

“I don't exactly walk around with international porkeys in my robe, mother.”

Celine blew out a puff of smoke. “You should. Of what use is that puppet you call a husband if he cannot keep one at hand?”

Apolline huffed, choosing not to delve into that conversation. Apolline had married a higher up in the French ministry, and her mother practically wanted her to stage a coup and install a veela queen of France.

For all her cunning, Céline Babineaux lacked patience. She didn't realize that if Apolline abused her husband’s influence, there would be eyes on her, and conversely eyes on the veela nation. Like the other coven mothers, she was too far removed from the wizards to realize that they were not dumb, and that they could sniff out manipulations if they became too blatant.

“Who called for this meeting?”

She huffed. “It was Poland-Lithuania.”

“The Poles? But they are such a tiny coven, what reason could they possibly have?”

“That's what we all want to find out, girl.” Spoke another veela mother from nearby. She had dark brown skin with a silky curtain of violet hair that reached down to her ridiculously proportioned ass, which was on full display thanks to the slit present on her gown. A quick mental review told Apolline that she was the coven mother for Gran Colombia. Next to her was her daughter, who looked to be fifteen at best, much too young to have such responsibilities placed on her, Apolline thought.

“They know the consequences of using the summons.” Céline said to the woman, “Or at least I hope they do, for their sake.”

There was no head of the veela nation, no queen to rule them all. Instead, the coven mother of each nation represented them in the veela council, which purported to make collective decisions for all veela worldwide.

In practice, as always, things were much more complicated. But there were some things that were respected by all. The only way to get all the veela leaders in the same room without months of planning was by calling a crisis meeting. It was a tool that no one dared ever use, because it was understood that the veela mothers would not hesitate to have one eviscerated if they called a crisis meeting for matters that did not qualify.

And very few matters did qualify. Only things that affected the very existence of the entire veela nation could be grounds for such a meeting.

The atrium had finally been filled, and there were over a hundred veela whispering amongst themselves, some irate and others curious.

A hush fell over the room as the one to call the council finally made their way up onto a small pulpit that had been set up. Apolline noted that this veela was not her coven's mother, she was a mere heiress at best.

“Hello, I hope you are all well. I know many of you are suspicious of why I would call such a meeting, and I promise you, I have made a discovery that will shake the very foundation of our society.”

She had to give it to her, it was a good start, it ensured that she would at least be heard out.

“Over the past few days, I accompanied my mother on a journey. Because she deemed none of us ready to succeed her, we were wishing to perform a rite to restore her youth to her, buying us more time.”

Murmurs filled the atrium at these words. Apolline sent her mother a questioning look.

“No one was ever up to Därta's standards. It is why she hung on much past the point most mothers would have passed on.”

Veela retained their perfect beauty well into old age, but everything had its limits. Past the century mark, their beauty slowly began to erode. While it was possible for Veela to live as long as wizards, most veela mothers chose death over living with their faded beauty.

“You knew of such a thing, and yet you kept it secret from us?!” Yelled one of the mothers, clearly irate.

“Where exactly is your coven mother?” Céline asked. “Is she such a coward that she sent you to answer for her treason?”

“My mother is dead.”

Once more silence reigned in the hall, though it was several orders of magnitude more tense than it had been previous.

“During our journey, we made a discovery, a discovery that made it apparent that my mother had to give her life, for the sake of the veela nation. It has been mere hours since my mother made her sacrifice, and it is my duty to bring the news to bear.”

The blonde dug into her robe pocket, and she pulled out a small satin handkerchief, which she was holding reverently, her entire body tense.

“I call upon a coven mother to step up to the stage and inspect the contents of this handkerchief.”

Many looks were shared across the room. No one had any clue where any of this could be going, but finally, Apolline's mother sighed, snuffing out her cigarette on the marble statue she'd been leaning against, and she stepped up.

“Let us be done with this farce.” She called out. “Let me see what you have brought to us, child.”

Apolline watched as a path opened for her mother, who walked up to the pulpit. The veela held her hand out, and Céline took the handkerchief from her.

She raised an eyebrow, and the polish veela urged her on. “Open it.”

Céline unfolded the satin.

Nestled inside was a single, solitary hair. A strand of midnight black, raven hair.

From her vantage point, Apolline could just barely tell that there was only a hair in the handkerchief. She frowned, ready to call for the polish veela's head for wasting their time.

But what her mother did next shocked her.

Céline's eyes widened. Her body began to visibly shake, and with over a hundred veela looking on, Apolline's mother buried her face in the handkerchief.

“A-A-AHHHHHH! Oooooooooh MERDE!”

To everyone's utter shock, her mother collapsed onto the floor, her body trembling violently as she writhed against the floor, the perfect globes of her breasts straining against her silk robe until a loud *riiiiiiip* echoed throughout the atrium.

Her nipples had pierced through the cloth, the stiff peaks practically throbbing as they were exposed to air. Céline was gasping, she was whimpering, and as Apolline's jaw hung open, she saw a gusher of her mother's juices begin to flood out from between her legs, pooling under her and soaking her robe.

The smell of veela arousal permeated the room, and all eyes turned to the pulpid

Apolline couldn't believe it. Veela were the masters of sex and sensuality. They bent men to their wills, leaving them nothing more than sputtering messes at their feet. A veela could make the most resilient wizard cum himself dry without even having to touch him.

Meanwhile, A veela came only when she chose.

From an early age, veela were bedded by their mothers and other mature females, all to ensure that as they aged, their resilience grew. Céline Babineaux could (and had) be pleasured by seven veela at once and still regain her composure.

And yet here se was, writhing on the floor in a pool of her own cum, her breasts secreting milk, for Gaia's sake! And all that from just sniffing a hair.

“I believe you all know what this means. After nearly a millennium, the male veela has been reincarnated!”

Shrieking and shouting; pandemonium was unleashed in the room as the realization sunk in to all of them at once.

Their king had returned.

“Why have you not brought him to us?! Why did you abandon him?!”

The same question was swimming around in Apolline's head. The promised king had returned, and this putain had not prostrated herself in front of him? If Apolline had been blessed enough to discover the king, she would have given her life in order to return him to his rightful throne.

The veela frowned, and even with all the chaos, when she opened her mouth to speak, they all quieted down. They needed to know.

“Our king… he has been enslaved.”