So sorry this has taken so long to update. Writer's block snuck up behind me with a mallet and pretty much flattened the back of my head. On the plus side - I wrote a few one-shots from various things in a desperate attempt to jump-start the recovery and you get to read those too now that my brain is finally in working order again.

Learning to control his shape shifting ability was astoundingly similar to what he'd trained to do when attempting to change into his animagus form. This time, though, he didn't have to master all of the complicated visualization techniques involved before he knew what shape he would eventually wind up at. Instead of searching within himself for the truth of his inner beast Harry only had to decide what he wanted to look like first and concentrate on that. Ironically the point now was to hide his inner beast. He had to admit he did look a bit like something one might find in a disturbed masochist's romance novels (using the term 'romance' as loosely as possible) just after the main character realized paralysis had set in and an unfamiliar figure was advancing on them from the doorway. No wonder Lucius had frozen.

Harry had begun practicing after having a good laugh over the cause of Draco's black eye. Though a simple application of dittany had cured the bruising Harry was quite certain that Astoria's dedication to being sure that everyone in the family was pulling their own weight, even her own fiancé, was a lesson that Draco would not soon forget. Upon reflection he had admitted she had a point and was no longer upset over it, though he would make it a priority to find a different way for his future bride to express her displeasure that didn't involve her fists. There had been a moment of congratulations and not a small amount of relief from the blonde over the reason for Harry's drastic change. His mother's life had been in the balance, after all, and he went off to inform Astoria the moment he was able.

Once alone Harry headed into his parlour and faced the largest mirror in the room, which was between the two windows on the far wall facing the drive. There he was better able to tell his successes and failures. Within half an hour he had been able to force his eyes to be white again, make his skin color pale to his usual shade, and get the claw on his left index finger to change back into a normal nail.

[It would seem you are of unusually even temper.]

He was just about to try for the full set on that hand when Parseltongue floated through the room and broke his concentration. His eyes went vertically slit because he had unintentionally thought of snakes. Harry was instantly irate with her for the distraction. The sooner he could get this under control the sooner he could see Lucius again and her interruptions were not going to help. Rather than lash out he took a breath and turned around to face Alphonsine with his arms crossed.

"I have noticed I am short-tempered. Could you not speak while I'm trying to learn to look normal enough to prevent scaring people, please?"

[Speak your native tongue,] she chided.

"No," Harry answered immediately.

She would have gaped at him if it wasn't below her breeding. Instead her eyes simply widened. [No?]

"And I want you to stop it as well. The people in this house are understandably unnerved by the sound of it considering how long Voldemort was living here and I want them as comfortable as possible. I will not speak to you in Parseltongue again." Harry's statement sounded harsh even to his own ears and he sighed at her shocked expression. He relented, if only slightly. He wasn't about to turn into an 'all or nothing' arguer if he could at all help it. He had always tried to be rational if he could, and a short temper was no reason to stop. "Look, if it was just annoying me that would be fine, but Lucius and Narcissa have enough to deal with already without adding to the stress. I guess I can speak to you in Parseltongue when neither of them is home, or when I can sense they're sleeping, but not if there's a chance they could walk in and hear it. Is that reasonable enough for you?"

The Matriarch smiled ever so slightly at him and spoke in English at last. Harry noted that she had a very thick French accent. "Your argument against Parseltongue is that your Vassals don't like it?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed.

"I will oblige you, then."

"Thank you," he said in relief. With that done he turned back to the mirror and resumed his practicing.

Thus far Lucius was handling Harry's awakened Cambion traits with all the zeal and efficiency of a startled ostrich. Harry hadn't even seen the man in five days, though he was certain he remained on the grounds. The Ministry's addition to the wards would alert Harry to even Lucius's proximity to the outer boundaries of the Manor grounds, so Harry let the situation be despite his annoyance in being utterly ignored. He had made a promise to wait until Lucius was ready to come to him and he was going to keep it.

Mealtimes were the worst, though. He had gotten quite used to eating with the family. Now aside from Draco and Astoria on the days they weren't thoroughly engrossed in each other, as their courtship was going exceedingly well and all of their daily activities were increasingly confined to their rooms upstairs, he rarely ate with anyone at all. Lucius had thrown fits like this before, but the longest he had gone without so much as letting himself be seen by Harry was two days. As Harry mulled over this during breakfast, he felt a comforting presence coming closer. His senses allowed him to know with surprising clarity how far away both Lucius and Narcissa were from him at all times, and in what direction.

"Is Lucius ever going to come down to talk to me?" he asked the instant Narcissa came into the dining room.

Narcissa became quite still. "May we assume that he is gathering courage to do so?"

Harry was familiar with this particular way of her speaking and sighed. "And?"

"And that the time needed to do so will be longer than either of us anticipated."

"Go on," Harry allowed, letting her lead him wherever direction would steer him to some progress.

"Thus you are going to be waiting for quite a length of time before he will allow much contact, if you intend him to willingly do so." Harry let his head on the table with a slight 'klonk' on the wood when his forehead impacted. She waited only a moment to deem this a mere disappointment rather than something Harry would get angry over. "If you are resigned to not seeing Lucius for some time, Harry, perhaps you can fill that time mastering your shape-changing abilities?"

"Oh!" Harry said, sitting up. "That's already done." He shifted easily from one shape to another and stood to show Narcissa his now very human form, the one she and Lucius were familiar and comfortable with. He was amazingly comfortable with his new body and kept it whenever he could, and since he could tell when either of his vassals were coming closer he had ample time to change. Narcissa had grown accustomed to it, or at least tolerant of it, so he didn't bother changing near her anymore. She likely thought he hadn't been practicing because she never witnessed it.

For the most part he remained a Cambion.

She looked him over approvingly and nodded. "Lucius will be relieved to know this. Your eyes set him on edge. The black made him terribly uncomfortable."

"I don't blame him," Harry snorted. "That was the first thing I learned to change."

Narcissa steeled herself and placed a hand on Harry's chest. "Did his reaction offend you?"

"No. Both of you need to calm down. What I'm feeling now is only slightly more extreme than normal teenaged emotions, alright? I've dealt with it before and I'll do it again. I only need a little practice."

"Forgive our hesitancy," she said diplomatically. "The texts-"

"-are inaccurate," Harry finished for her. "Like I said before: sometimes people do things just because they know they can get away with it, not because they have no choice. The temper I have now? It's no more influence than what a cheering squad has in a Quidditch match. It's loud, but nothing I can't ignore in order to make the right call. If I ever lose control it will be because I think legitimate danger is in the realms of possibility: and THEN it will not be you or Lucius I am attacking."

Narcissa let out a slow breath. "I dearly hope that holds true months from now."

Harry frowned. "I do too. Now... is Lucius alright?"

"I'm certain he will recover if your theory holds true. His mood is balancing steadily and I've no doubt he will come to you soon. In the meantime the best course of action would be to allow him ample freedom and endure the silence."

"And you? Are you alright?" he asked.

She took a chair next to him and sighed. "Well enough. I miss my nightly wine."

He snorted and said chidingly, "The lot of you drink entirely too much."

"We own a brand that is aged for a thousand years, Harry. It's in the blood," she attested, cleverly omitting the brand name. 'Superior Red' was insanely good but the family conspicuously neglected to offer it to Harry's guests due to the absurdly bold brand name that might offend. Though the Malfoy family's alliances had plainly changed it wasn't exactly an option to simply rename a product their Apothecary was still famous for on a whim.

"You'll just have to use a substitute," Harry said sternly.

"Then find me one," she retorted, and smiled when he agreed that was fair.

"My Lord."

Lucius said this with respect. It was the very careful and wary respect that Harry had heard him use around Voldemort, or that most people would use to address an armed and unstable madman that was standing directly behind them. This is, in hindsight, basically the same thing except the first one had bells on.

Harry felt he should be offended at this tone being directed at him but Lucius was actually attempting to be polite in his own way. In fact he found to his astonishment that he didn't dislike it at all. As the week since his transformation had passed Harry had found himself increasingly aware of how much respect he was afforded and, indeed, felt as if Lucius and Narcissa, the Manor, and all surrounding lands were... his. This is not to say that he felt he owned everything and everyone around him. He felt they were all his responsibility.

Hearing Lucius call him 'Lord' felt quite acceptable to Harry. Mentally he fought it for a moment due to the bad association he had with it and his enemy, but every other part of him appreciated the gesture.

"Thank you for coming to see me," Harry said gently. "I was worried."

Rather than simply arriving Lucius had sent his elf to announce he was coming so that Harry would have ample time to alter his shape beforehand. It had been quite some time since the announcement and the Cambion had begun to wonder if the man had changed his mind. In such a short time he had decided he didn't much care for his more human form anymore and it almost felt like wearing a uniform for a specific purpose; though he had no qualms wearing it when needed he was annoyed when it wasn't strictly necessary. By the time Lucius had finally arrived Harry had begun to feel uncomfortable in his own skin.

The effort was definitely worth it, though, when Lucius walked into the room without hesitation. Though Harry could tell he was anxious being there the man was holding his calm admirably. Clearly Harry's usual dismissal of the title had not gone unnoticed. As usual Lucius had taken the first step to test his boundaries the instant the conversation had begun and had received the needed message; he was addressing his Lord.

Harry did not feel inclined to deny this and allowed Lucius to fall into a behavior pattern he was likely accustomed to.

"I apologize for the delay," he said as if professing a lapse in memory had held him up by mere minutes and not seven days, ", and am grateful for your patience."

Harry gave him a smile and a nod and held his arms out. "What do you think? It took a bit of practice, but I think I've got this changing thing figured."

Lucius appraised him thoughtfully. "You are taller."

"Am I?" Harry turned to look in the mirror and then compared himself to Lucius, who had once been similar in height. Harry was now somewhat taller than the blonde was. It must have been unconscious, but he couldn't deny he liked being taller. "I didn't mean that. Does it bother you?"

"Not unduly, though Narcissa has professed you are beginning to dwarf her," he said.

"I'll be more careful about it, then," Harry promised. "I can't guarantee I'll succeed, but I'll try."

"As you will, my Lord."

Once again Harry allowed the title to bounce around in his head and still wasn't affronted by it. Still. "You don't have to call me that, you know."

"It does not offend you," Lucius stated plainly.

"No," he agreed.

"It used to."

Harry had already been tested by Narcissa on this matter, and he knew how to respond. "Draco helped me come to terms with my bad association with the word because the only person I knew who used it was abusing it. He demanded his servants – and he only had servants, not vassals- use the term alongside the word 'master' for the same reason house-elves are expected to use it. It was to mark him as superior."

Lucius took a seat by the fireplace. He looked apprehensive. "And why do you allow it?"

Harry knelt by the chair and though he put his hand on the arm of the chair he avoided touching Lucius directly. "Did you know that the least important person is depicted at the top of a Totem Pole?'

Lucius's brow creased in confusion. "I did not. Why?"

"Because the most important person is at the bottom holding everyone up," he finished. "That's what a Lord is supposed to be; support. Someone everyone else can trust to take the majority of the weight to make their own work easier and keep everything organized. Yes there is authority there but it should be more the way a head of house organizes a family and not the way a puppeteer pulls strings. I hated the word because I had the definition wrong. You and Draco didn't have a Lord, you had a tyrant. The fact that he was using the title doesn't make it true."

"Then you need to brush up on your history," Lucius said brazenly. "The Lords you speak of only exist in stories."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "Alright, you've got me there. But there's still a disparity between those who seek power and those who never wanted it and sort of stumble into it because they didn't really have a choice. Those personalities handle the situation in vastly different ways. I never intended to have vassals, but it happened, and now I'm going to handle the situation as responsibly as I know how."

Lucius leaned back in his chair. "I suppose I can ask for nothing more."

Harry lifted a brow. "What are you smirking for?"

"You just said 'disparity'."

Harry shook his head and stood. "It'll never cease to amaze me how much you and Narcissa persist in being surprised that I can learn. I do use the library."

"I find you sleeping in it more often than reading,"

"I will not counter that on the grounds that I can't think of how to do it just now," he laughed. "Do you feel better?"

Lucius stood and came close to Harry, but didn't come within arm's reach. "Somewhat. I believe my apprehension is not entirely unfounded and time will bring greater understanding. Will you continue to be patient until then?"

Harry felt his chest get heavy. "How long will it take?"

"I do not know," he replied, sounding just as disappointed as Harry felt. "Even after making the decision to come here today I had to spend hours gathering the courage. I can tell you, though, that your calm is reassuring. You have changed; that is very clear. I merely wish to determine how much you have changed before trying to acclimate. I ask only that you not go out of your way to be too tolerant from now on. If I am to learn how to respond to your moods I must experience them first."

"That's reasonable," Harry agreed with some relief. "You should know that I don't exactly enjoy this shape anymore. I have no problem looking like this for your benefit, but I'd prefer if you didn't ask me to hold it when you aren't with me."

Lucius nodded. "Narcissa informed me that you favor your Cambion body."

"She's gotten used to it, yes," Harry said, then quickly added, "I don't expect you to manage that too quickly. We'll do this the same way as before – small bits at a time."

"You keep your eyes white for her."

"I want to let those natural as well, but I don't plan on it until everyone is in agreement; even if it takes years, Lucius. Now before you leave, can you tell me if you'll start coming to meals again?"

"Yes, if I must," Lucius agreed. "Will there be trouble with the Ministry if I don't check in with you every day?"

"No, they trust me to keep track of you," Harry replied easily. "Don't worry about that. At least you've been spending more time with Narcissa in the last week. She probably needs both of your attentions."

Lucius stood straighter and looked mildly concerned. "I thought she had been spending most of the week with you. I haven't seen her more than an hour or so each day."

Harry thought. He could sense her in the same direction he always did for the most part this past week – the eastern side of the Manor. He had been sensing Lucius and Narcissa off in the same direction most of the week so he had assumed they were together. After some thought he realized that, though he could sense their distance and direction, he couldn't sense it too precisely.

"Where have you been spending most of the week, then?" Harry asked.

"In a spare bedchamber near the garden." He answered.

"That's right below Narcissa's Cabinet," he mused. No wonder he had been sensing them in the same direction and distance; they had been… just on different floors. "I wonder what she's doing in there."

Something had been nagging at him from that direction for a few days now. He just could not pinpoint what it was. There was the ever-present feeling of Lucius and Narcissa and his developing heir within her, but it felt as if something was screaming at him for attention. He could only sense his developing child in tandem with the mother, which made telling exactly what was going on through that interference difficult – and there was definite interference at this stage. Harry felt that the difference between the energies would be more apparent to him when the child no longer depended completely upon their mother for survival, but just now it was like trying to read a tablet distorted under unstable water.

Sometimes he even felt, for small moments, as if the life was outside her.

In her Cabinet, Narcissa swirled the fizzy drink in her wine glass that she was using as a (very poor) substitute for the real thing. While the men dealt with their respective adjustments to their impending family growth she had been spending her time updating the scrolls and research documents for the family records concerning Cambion reproduction, and the cause of the manufactured child's failure. As they were to clearly have another such being in the family it would only benefit them to have this information carefully kept for future generations to reference.

As with many such ethereal progenitors Incubi and Succubi made their mark on their mortal offspring with magic and not with genes, therefore the power could, in theory, carry on indefinitely without diluting over time the way blood can. Draco was clearly the Malfoy heir, but the Potters that Lucius and Narcissa had assisted in creating would need to know these things as the family expanded, and heaven help the Wizarding world if the child she bore turned out to be as prolific as the Weasleys.

Narcissa prided herself on her penmanship and bookkeeping and had done her duty as expertly as she could; copying the same information diligently in the three different languages their family records were kept in and sealing the scrolls lovingly back in the box they had come from in the library's most valued section. There, she prepared the appropriate spells to update the Genealogy of the Malfoy family to branch with that of the Potters, whose records Harry had gathered for her some time ago.

When she had gone back to her cabinet that night to have another of those fizzy drinks before bed, Narcissa sat at her desk and smiled at the glowing green glass container that thrummed with warming charms and smelled of the nectar it contained. In the center, steadily pulsing was a tiny speck of life.

After her attempts at copying Harry had failed she had disposed of the superfluous eggs. The one that had refused to either develop or die she had kept. She just hadn't had the heart to dispose of something that was technically alive, especially since she had put it into that state to begin with. After Harry's Cambion power had fully awakened, however, something happened to it. There was no division of the cell or development of any kind; it simply… glowed.

Seeing that life when what she had learned of how Cambion reproduced fresh in her mind Narcissa had experienced a sudden blinding burst of understanding. That egg possessed within it Harry's power and that would always stay, but that wasn't enough to make a body because Cambion did not pass on genetic material.

The egg would grow. All it needed was stable genetic material to grow from.

It was probably very selfish of her, but she so craved a girl and there was no telling at this stage what gender the child she now bore would turn out to be. Knowing the Potter and Malfoy lines it was very, very likely a boy. Quickly, before anyone could either inquire or protest Narcissa injected a miniscule drop of her own blood into the waiting egg and watched in rapt fascination as Harry's power latched onto that material like a predator desperate to be fed.

Moments later, before her very eyes and with the aid of a wizarding magnifying glass, Narcissa watched the large single cell divide into two.

That had been three days ago. Now Narcissa was beginning to plan out how to tell her family what she had done. She dearly hoped they wouldn't be angry. After all, she was merely going to fulfill her vow a little over-zealously than originally intended, and Harry had given her permission to attempt this process in the first place. He really shouldn't be surprised that she had eventually succeeded.