Lionsnake Manor

Lionsnake Manor

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Morning, Part II

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Harry Lupin-Potter-Snape-Malfoy-Black into almost empty bed. The only one still there, besides himself, was Draco. The blond wizard lay on his side some way away from Harry, his platinum hair messed up almost as badly as Harry's.

Harry crawled over to his only younger husband, kissing him right on the mouth. "Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty," he murmured then with a smile.

"Mmm-hmm... Harry?" Draco sat up, yawning slightly. "What time is it?"

"Dunno," replied the Gryffindor, "but at least there's nobody else but we two here in the bed."

"Doesn't prove anything," grumbled the blond wizard. "You know very well they all get up too damn early every bloody fucking day!"

"My, my, why do you use such language, my dear?" questioned Harry, smirking. Just a few years before, he'd never smirked, but nowadays, it was a common habit to him. You cannot be married to three Slytherins without picking up some traits from them, after all.

"Because you woke me up," replied Draco. Then he got up from the bed, however, and proceeded to dressing himself. Harry decided to follow the suit.

Once they were dressed, Harry glanced at Draco. "Now, shall we go find your father and the others?" suggested the bespectacled man, grinning.

"Ewww, Harry, don't say that," Draco groaned. "You make it sound like incest or something!"

Harry snickered, then hugged Draco comfortingly. "I'm sorry," he said. "I never meant to scar your poor little mind." The other young man just glared at him.

It wasn't true, anyway. At the same moment as Draco and Lucius had met for the first time after Draco's sixteenth birthday, they'd realized their soulbond. And, at that same moment, all parent-child feelings had been wiped away from between them. To the Wizarding law, most of the society, and, most importantly, to themselves, they weren't a father and a son, and had never been. They were just husbands, just like the others, with no bloodties or father-son like love between them. It wasn't incest, not even in the word's mildest form.

So, they started to make their way to the kitchen, where the others undoubtedly were, chattering cheerfully on their way there.

*

Remus raised an eyebrow as Lucius, Severus, and Sirius entered the kitchen, the two first ones smirking satisfiedly, and a wide grin plastered on Sirius's face. "Okay, so what did you do now?" the werewolf asked curiously.

"Oh, we just took a shower," Lucius replied mildly, wiping his long, blond hair over his shoulder. No matter how long time they'd been married, it still had the same effect -- Sirius was practically drooling at the mere sight of Lucius's hair flinging over the blond's broad shoulders.

"What? And didn't invite me?" asked Remus in mock-hurt. Then he yawned slightly. The oncoming full moon was already wearing him down.

"You look tired," observed Lucius, eyeing Remus concernedly. Truly, Remus did look tired. He had shadows under his eyes, and his expression was simply exhausted. Not to mention that he didn't sit up straight like he used to, instead, he was slumping forward in his chair, as if under great strain.

"Of course," the werewolf muttered dryly. "It's only three days to the full moon."

"Oh," said Sirius, sipping the tea that was placed in front of him by a house-elf. Then he smiled at his lycanthropic lover over the rim of his cup. "Who's the lucky one this time?" he inquired.

Usually, Remus could keep the werewolf's instincts far away from himself. However, a couple of days prior and after a full moon they were much stronger and started to affect him. As wolves were all monogamous, the wolf made him unable to find pleasure with more than one of his mates at that phase of the moon. This one was randomly picked by the wolf each month. The choice differed enough to keep everyone happy about it, although the choice more often was set on Sirius or Lucius, who were older than Remus, than on Severus, Harry, or Draco. The younger ones - even though Severus was only a month younger than Remus was - accepted this ungrudgingly.

"I cannot say that yet," the werewolf replied absent-mindedly. "The wolf hasn't made its final pick yet. Although I can already tell that it's not you," he added, glancing at Sirius.

"A pity," the other Gryffindor said with a slight grin. Then, he frowned. "Hey, guys, does your tea taste the same as usual? Mine tastes... odd." His frown turned a bit worried. Over the years of War, he'd more than one time been the victim of an assassination attempt -- just like most of them. Fortunately to him and his soulmates, those attempts had never managed.

"Let me see that," Severus replied, taking the cup from his unprotesting hands. After a slight sniff and a tiny sip of the drink, he smirked. "Of course it tastes odd to you," he said. "The house-elf accidentally gave you a cup with honey, instead of sugar. So, you're not being poisoned or anything. Pity, though."

"Getting paranoid on our old age, aren't we?" teased Lucius, chuckling slightly. He was the oldest in their sixsome, six years older than Sirius, Remus, and Severus, and the whole of twenty-six years older than Harry and Draco. Of course, none of the age differences had ever bothered them. So they were of two different generations, and? Who cared about that, as long as they loved each other? Nobody, that was it.

A soft hoot and tapping behind the window broke their conversation. Sirius stood and went to the kitchen window, letting the owl in. She flew immediately to Severus, who unfastened the letter on her leg. As soon as this was done, she flew out again, obviously not having been instructed to wait for a reply.

"Well? Who is it from?" asked Sirius, curious as he always was. It might have been curiosity that killed the cat, but like Severus kept saying, it could kill a dog just as well.

"My mother," replied the other dark-haired man absentmindedly. His eyes scanned through the letter as he continued talking. "It's the usual. Greetings, well-wishes, a short description of her recent doings, and then most of the letter full of not-so-subtle hints about not having grandchildren." He rolled up the parchment with a deep sigh. "It's getting rather annoying, really."

"Then why not give her what she so much desires?" suggested Lucius with a smirk. "Grandchildren, I mean?"

"You must be kidding," replied Severus, giving him a disbelieving glance. "How the Hell do you think we could be fathers?"

"Hey, I've had a child in the house before," said Lucius defensively. "Personally, I think it could be quite sweet. We could have many of them, since if there was just one or two, we'd spoil them rotten. Then we could argue about which one of our Houses they're going to, and then the Sorting Hat would put them all into Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff just for the hell of it."

"And I and Harry could teach them Quidditch," added Sirius, his expression lighting up a bit. "And we and Moony could make them Marauders!"

"Merlin help Hogwarts after that," muttered Severus. Then his expression turned thoughtful. "Maybe at least one of the kids would be talented in Potions," he mused aloud.

"Or maybe at least one of the kids would have the Lycanthropy or the Dark Plague," suggested Remus mildly. At his husbands' murderous glances, he said defensively, "What? You know it's possible. Okay, so the chances of them getting my Lycanthropy are rather slim, but they could easily get the Dark Plague. You do realize that half of us have a risk for that, don't you?"

The others nodded with grave expressions. The Dark Plague was a magical illness only affecting those who were involved with Dark Arts. Lucius and Severus, as Death Eaters, and Remus, as a werewolf, were thus inclined to the illness. It was bad for an adult -- a very good reason for them all to constantly dose themselves against it, as the traces of Voldemort's magic were still whirling around the Wizarding World, raising the risk even greater than it was usually -- but to children, it either was fatal, or left them permanently deformed. One person inclined to that could not have the baby inherit the illness, but if both parents were inclined to the Darkness, the chances of the child being born with the Dark Plague were pretty high. Therefore, Remus's worries were well reasoned.

"We could always take precautions," noted Lucius. "Either we don't have any of us carrying the child, or if one of us does, the two others keep well clear of him during the fertile period."

"What are you talking about?" asked a curious voice from the doorway. As they turned to look there, they saw their two youngest soulmates standing there, side by side.

"We were just discussing the possibility of having children," replied Sirius mildly. Just like with Lucius and Draco, all traces of his godfather bond to Harry were wiped away, as well as the paternal feelings he'd had for the boy before Harry's sixteenth birthday.

"Great!" Harry's brilliantly green eyes lit up. "I'm volunteering to be a carrier!" At the others' surprised gazes, he folded his arms defensively across his chest. "What? I've always wanted a big family!"

"I don't doubt that," chuckled Lucius, smiling slightly at the young wizard's enthusiasm. "Now, sit down, both of you. We'll discuss the possibility of children over breakfast."

***