The Heir of Legends

Awakening Bonds

Harry woke slowly, the weight of exhaustion pulling at him like heavy chains. The memories of the last few days—the glowing scroll, the voice of his mother, and the fire that had burned within his veins—felt surreal, like fragments of a half-remembered dream. But as his eyes adjusted to the soft, golden light filtering into the room, he became painfully aware it was no dream.

He was lying in an enormous bed draped in green and silver silks, the Slytherin crest embroidered into the duvet. Confused, he pushed himself upright, his limbs aching from magical overuse.

"Finally awake, are you, Potter?"

Harry's head snapped to the side, and there sat Draco Malfoy, perched casually in an emerald armchair. His silver eyes glimmered with something uncharacteristically soft—concern? Amusement?

"Malfoy," Harry muttered, his throat dry. "What—what are you doing here?"

Draco arched a perfectly sculpted brow. "Saving your life, apparently. Again. You should be grateful, Potter. It's becoming quite a habit of mine."

Harry blinked, trying to piece together the fragments of memory. "Where am I? What happened?"

"You're in Malfoy Manor," Draco said simply. "And what happened is that your creature inheritance nearly killed you. You collapsed in the middle of Diagon Alley, glowing like a bloody lighthouse. I had to intervene before half the wizarding world swarmed you."

Harry's heart sank. "I collapsed...in public?"

"Spectacularly," Draco confirmed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "But don't worry, the Ministry hasn't caught wind of it—yet. Although, I'd wager Dumbledore is scrambling to track you down as we speak."

Harry clenched his fists, a surge of anger bubbling up at the mention of the old man. Ever since he'd discovered Dumbledore's manipulations—the lies, the way he'd been groomed to be nothing more than a sacrificial pawn—Harry had felt nothing but resentment.

"I'm not going back to Hogwarts," Harry said firmly.

Draco leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Good. You shouldn't. That place has done nothing but stifle you."

The intensity of Draco's gaze made Harry uncomfortable. "Why are you being...nice to me?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself, Potter. This isn't altruism. I have my reasons for helping you."

"Care to elaborate?"

Draco hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Fine. Your inheritance—it's not just any creature inheritance. You're a Celestial Veela, Potter. One of the rarest magical beings in existence. Your kind is practically worshipped for their power and beauty. But it comes with complications. You're going to attract mates—strong, powerful individuals who are drawn to you like moths to a flame."

Harry stared at him, stunned. "Mates?"

"Yes, mates," Draco said, his smirk returning. "And lucky me, I happen to be one of them."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Draco shot back, his expression deadly serious.

Before Harry could respond, a soft knock sounded at the door. Without waiting for permission, the door swung open to reveal a tall, pale figure with golden eyes. Edward Cullen stepped inside, his movements unnervingly graceful.

"Is he awake?" Edward asked, his smooth voice carrying a faint American accent. His gaze locked onto Harry, and an unreadable expression flickered across his face.

"Clearly," Draco drawled, shooting Edward a look of disdain. "Cullen, was it? You're the vampire."

"And you're the arrogant wizard," Edward replied smoothly, unbothered by Draco's tone.

"Excuse me?" Harry interrupted, his voice rising. "Who are you, and why are you here?"

Edward stepped closer, his gaze softening. "I'm Edward Cullen. I came because I felt your call. You're my mate, Harry."

Harry's head spun. "My what?!"

Draco groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Merlin help me, Potter, keep up. He's another one of your destined mates. This is going to be a nightmare, isn't it?"

Before Harry could process the situation, the door burst open again, this time with a loud crash. A tall, muscular man with russet skin and wild, shoulder-length black hair stormed in. Jacob Black.

"Harry," Jacob said, his voice rough and filled with emotion. "I came as soon as I felt it. You're mine."

Draco threw his hands up in exasperation. "Oh, fantastic. The mutt is here, too."

"Who are you calling a mutt, ferret?" Jacob snapped, baring his teeth.

"Stop!" Harry shouted, his voice magically amplified. The room fell silent, and Harry glared at the three men. "Can someone please explain what's going on without sniping at each other?"

Draco crossed his arms, looking smug. "Welcome to your new reality, Potter. Four mates, magical bonds, and more chaos than you can handle. And this is only the beginning."