For as long as Draco Malfoy could remember, he had gotten his way. Regardless of the situation at hand. And thus, he had no clue how to handle his current dilemma.
It was the beginning of a new year at Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Draco had hoped to find his mate. Preferably among those of his housemates.
His mate.
It was still a strange term for him to consider, as he had only but a few short months to adjust to his heritage. Such a heritage that had been kept from him right until his father had him excused from last year's end of term exams on the eve of his seventeenth birthday. Only to be brought home and rushed into his mother's favourite sitting room. And that was when he learnt the true history of the Malfoy name. He also learnt that he should expect an inheritance that was more than the usual strengthening of the magical core.
It was slightly off putting to learn that he wasn't entirely a pure blood. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it now, while he'd glanced around the Great Hall, and his eyes landed on those strikingly green eyes. Which lead him back to his original point.
"You alright, mate?" Blaise murmured, so as not to draw attention to them during Dumbledore's speech.
Draco responded with a sharp nod. His eyes still connected with Potter's, not daring to look away. It was Potter who broke the connection, after he had been nudged by the Weasel, to answer a question the Mudblood had asked.
Potter! Of all the people fate could choose to match Draco with, it had to be his enemy. Well, his past enemy. Harry could hardly be his enemy and his mate at the same time.
It was in the next moment that Draco could be seen storming from the Slytherin table, shortly after the Welcoming Feast had begun.
Shrugging it off as a strange Malfoy-ish trait, Harry got back to the meal and conversation at hand. Ron, Hermione and Harry sat, talking about the lack of an active stance The Ministry had been taking against Voldemort. The raids against muggles were still causing a large issue for both the magical and Muggle population.
The trio also spoke about their summer. Hermione had spent the last few weeks with her parents in France and Ron had gone with his parents and Ginny to Romania to visit their brother Charlie. Harry was just happy to have spent some time alone in Grimmauld Place with Sirius. Who, after a long and hard year, was finally fully recovered from the injuries he had received in the Ministry the night of Voldemort's official return.
"How was your Summer Harry?" Ron broke him from his internal musings.
With a grin, Harry replied. "It was fantastic! I didn't have to go to the Durselys and Sirius was even well enough to duel me. He remembers so much from his days as an Auror. I'll have to show you guys some time. How about your holidays Hermione?"
The rest of the evening continued in a similar manner and soon Harry found himself in front of the common room fire with heavy eyes.
Harry…
Come to me Harry, I need you.
Harry woke with a start. He hadn't even realised he'd fallen asleep and surely didn't remember what he had just dreamed about. All he could recall were a pair of eyes.
Silver eyes.