Chapter 3

Harry stood in the corner of his uncle's home office, quivering fiercely. His ragged clothing did nothing to keep out the cold temperature of the room, which seeped into his skin and made him shiver harder. The cuff that was secured on his right ankle clinked softly against the chain connected to it as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He'd twisted his ankle earlier that day working in the garden and it hurt terribly. His hands were clasped behind his back and his head was lower in the submissive stance he'd been forced to learn years earlier.

When he heard the door open, he didn't look up. His uncle hated it when Harry looked, spoke, or, really, did anything without his permission. Harry was sure that if the fat man could, he would have ordered him not to even breathe. Hearing a second set of footsteps enter the room, the fourteen-year-old stilled. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"You're lucky to have such a wonderful cook as a wife, Vernon," a voice that Harry didn't recognize laughed.

"Thank you very much, sir," Vernon Dursley replied as the door was closed.

'Especially since it was me who made your dinner,' Harry thought bitterly.

His uncle grunted as he took a seat in the wing-backed chair that separated Harry from the rest of the room. At the snap of Vernon's fingers, the black-haired teen silently stepped up so he stood beside his uncle's chair, head still lowered.

"And this is?" the second voice asked.

"My nephew, unfortunately," Vernon spat. "Say hello to Mr. Patterson, freak."

As he was slapped harshly on the ass, Harry raised his gaze without lifting his head. A tall man sat in the chair across from his uncle's, his legs crossed. He was thin and gaunt, his arms and legs stringy. His hair was jet black and cropped close to his scalp, revealing the slightly odd shape of his head. Harry almost shuddered when he looked at the man's face. It was as thin as the rest of his body, but the wicked smile he wore made his thin lips even tighter. To Harry, he looked a little bit too much like the snake-eyed Voldemort that he'd seen resurrected less than two months earlier.

"Hello," Harry said softly.

"Do you have a name, my boy?" Mr. Patterson asked.

"Harry," the black-haired teen replied.

"Hm."

"Get us some drinks, freak," Vernon commanded, slapping his nephew's ass again.

"Brandy," the other man said.

Quickly, Harry shuffled over to the small antique cart that had his uncle's assortment of alcoholic beverages on it. Bending over, he grabbed a clean glass from the lower shelf of the cart. He fought down a shudder as both men hummed happily behind him. Straightening up, he set the two glasses down. Within seconds, he had both glasses filled with ice and their respective drinks.

"Give it here, boy," Vernon said.

Harry went over to his uncle first, handing him a glass of vodka. The chain rattled as he moved around. Turning around, he slowly made his way over to the other man, his eyes lowered. He held the glass out to Mr. Patterson, who took it. Harry was about to step back towards his corner when the gaunt man's free hand shot out and grabbed his shoulder, forcing Harry onto his knees.

"Vernon here told me that you're very good," Mr. Patterson cooed as he uncrossed his legs and spread them slightly.

"It's all I'm good for, sir," Harry quietly replied, the man's hand moving up to tangle in his dark hair.

"Glad to hear it. Such a beauty doesn't need any other talents," Mr. Patterson laughed coldly.

The hand in his hair yanked on it and Harry sighed inwardly, positioning himself between the gaunt man's legs. He'd known this was going to happen since his aunt had told him the day before that his uncle's boss was going to be over for dinner. Resigning himself to fate, Harry rose up onto his knees.

"You might want to rough him up a bit," Vernon sneered. "He seems to like that. Don't you freak?"

With a gasp, Harry sat up on the couch, panting hard. Cold shudders ran through his body despite the intense heat of the room. He wildly looked around the room, confused for a moment. When he recognized that he was in the Common Room and safe, he closed his eyes and held back a sob.

Slowly, he stood up and grabbed his pillow. Lifting it, he found his invisibility cloak tucked neatly against the fabric of the couch. He picked it up and made his way to the portrait hole. His breath caught in his chest as he crawled through, the darkness enclosing tightly around him. Stepping out into the dark corridor beyond, he steadied himself and glanced up at the Fat Lady. She glanced down at him and nodded. He smiled in return before he quickly swung his cloak over his shoulders.

He walked through the corridors without running into anyone or anything. It was the first night of the school year and Harry knew that not even Peeves would be out looking for trouble. The excitement of a new term was too much for everyone. He stole a glance out one of the windows at the moon, which shone high above. It was full, burning brightly.

'Moony isn't having a good night,' he thought as he continued onward.

His destination was a familiar place to anyone who knew anything about Harry's second year at Hogwarts. He slipped into the bathroom and found Myrtle floating next to one of the sinks. She smiled when he took off the cloak, exposing himself.

"I knew you would come," she said as he approached.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"It's your first week back," she replied sadly.

Harry nodded silently. Myrtle had never asked him why he frequented the once-secret tunnel that lay beneath the school, a fact that he was glad for. It was enough that she knew he had terrible nightmares and that only the cold chamber calmed his nerves.

She floated away as Harry started to hiss the password. He watched as a growing hole appeared where the sink had once been, inviting him into the darkness. With a smile, Harry stepped inside, hissing the password again to close the entrance behind him.

He followed the path, sliding down to the next tunnel below. A few minutes later, he came into a giant chamber, as tall as it was wide. He took a slow, steady breath and let it out, loudly, his breath forming a small cloud.

"Edda?" he called into the darkness.

Draco drifted out of sleep, the feeling slid away as he slowly opened his eyes. Slowly, he turned his head to look at the clock on the bedside table. It was still dark out, the clock reading two in the morning. He frowned and sat up when something grabbed his attention. He sniffed the air.

'What is that?' he wondered as he silently got out of bed.

He quietly made his way through the dungeons that served as the Slytherin dorms. His feet hardly made a sound on the stone floor and, despite the cold temperature of them, he didn't feel it. The smell, fragrant, but strangely masculine, was distracting him too much to care. He tried to think of a way to describe it, but sound that he couldn't. All he could think of was that it was the best thing he'd ever smelled and that he had to know where it was coming from.

Slipping out of the Common Room, he followed the scent down the corridors. He was so wrapped up in it that he didn't even think to stick to the shadows, not that it mattered. Everyone knew that Filch drank himself into oblivion on the first night of school and, without him, Mrs. Norris's cries went unnoticed.

He stopped just outside a large door, sniffing the air again. The Veela inside him stirred and growled as he threw open the door. Stepping inside, he found himself in one of the girl's bathrooms. He vaguely remembered someone mentioning that this was the bathroom that housed the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, but he tossed the thought aside. The scent was stronger in here than anywhere else he'd been in the entire castle.

Suddenly, it was gone and Draco almost stumbled back in surprise. His eyes widened and he sniffed furiously at the air to no avail.

He was about to take another step into the bathroom when a ghost peaked around one of the stalls, staring at him. Her eyes were wide behind her round glasses, the twin ponytails waving slightly as she floated out into the open. She blinked a few times, sizing him up.

"Hello," Draco said.

The ghost stared at him for a few moments longer before she spoke.

"You shouldn't be here," she replied.

"I know that it's a girl's bathroom, but-"

"-You shouldn't be here," the ghost repeated.

Draco growled as he advanced towards the ghost, his hands clenching into fists. The Veela roared in his mind and he bared his teeth. No one got between him and his mate.

Taken aback, Draco stopped and frowned. His mate? Was that what the smell was? His heart stirred at the thought and he smiled a little, setting his hand on his chest.

"You're still here," the ghost said.

Draco shot her a glare.

"I'm looking for my mate," he spat.

"They're not here. No one is here except me," the ghost replied. "Now, go away."

"No, I'm not going anywhere," Draco snarled. "I may not smell my mate right now, but I know he's here."

"Like I said, no one is here and no one has been here for quite a while. Perhaps your 'mate' was one of the girls here this morning," Myrtle sighed.

She knew that Harry didn't want someone to be here when he returned from the chamber. He had his secrets and, before he'd found her in his second year, she'd had her own. If he wasn't ready to let the world in, then it was her job to protect her friend.

"My mate isn't a woman," Draco snarled.

The sudden knowledge calmed him. Draco had always been gay since the day he was born, but the reinforcement that the masculine scent had brought settled his fears. Veela mates were supposed to complete each other, but, once in a while, strange things happened. His parents were just such an example. They'd been mates, but Lucius couldn't stand the sight of his wife anymore.

"Boys don't come in here, you idiot. Get out before I go call Filch," Myrtle muttered.

Draco growled again as he turned on his heel and stormed off. The Veela in him was screaming to go back, but Draco's human side was too annoyed to do so. A confrontation with a ghost in the middle of the night didn't sound like fun to him.

He stopped when he reached the staircases. Slowly, he turned to look at the dark hall behind him. The ache in his heart had grown with each step he'd taken away from his mate. Looking forward again, he groaned loudly and headed back towards the dungeons. He knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep, but at least he could write to his father about these new clues.

The headmaster's office was quiet except for the soft shuffling on shoes on carpet. Dumbledore was pacing in front of his desk, the ancient Persian rug under his feet creating the sound. His hands were clasped behind his back and he stared down at the floor, his eyes narrowed in thought.

On his perch next to the desk, the phoenix, Fawkes, was looking smug. The giant bird was watching it's 'master' with interest as the old man tried to figure out what to do next. Fawkes saw his relationship with Dumbledore like that game that the humans loved to play. What was it called? Oh, chess! He'd made his move: Queen to E2, check.

"You're quite the little devil," Dumbledore hissed as he walked past the bird again.

'And you're a big one,' the bird thought, shifting slightly on its perch to a more comfortable position.

"I placed those restraints on him for a reason, but you just had to go and ruin them," the man muttered.

'Because you're interfering with the natural order,' the bird silently replied.

"They were designed to keep him safe," Dumbledore muttered.

The phoenix would have rolled his eyes if he could.

"He's mine to control! He was born to be a weapon for the war, my tool!" Dumbledore spat.

'I help the boy to weaken the binds just a bit and the old man flips out. I wonder what is he going to do when he finds out what else I helped the boy do,' Fawkes chuckled inwardly.

Dumbledore stopped in front of the bird and glared at it. The grandfatherly glint in his eyes was gone, replaced by his true self.

"When the restraints faltered last year, I thought it was just time weakening them, but, now, it's happening again. I felt it again tonight. It was you, wasn't it? What did you do?" the old man asked.

The phoenix looked away from him to preen his feathers. Dumbledore glared at the bird before he went back to his pacing.

'I'll have to put another layer on the restrains. I can't have Harry running around at full strength yet. Voldemort must be lured into my trap first,' the elderly headmaster thought.

His hands clenched at his sides at the thought of one brat ruining his plans. Everything had been going smooth until Harry had returned to school the year before. He'd started to push everyone away, including Dumbledore. The old man had tried everything to bring the boy back into his arms, even paying that gold digger Weasley to suddenly become Harry's newest enemy, not that the boy had been a true friend in the first place, just an actor paid by Dumbledore. Nothing had worked and he could feel his control slipping.

The news from Lucius Malfoy that his son Draco may soon need special apartments for himself and his mate had only added to his aggravation. The elder Malfoy had never been a fan of his –nor the younger one- and the blond wizard had spent the last year torturing him with letters detailing all that the young Veela would need. Dumbledore felt tempted to tear out his overly long beard with annoyance. Why was it taking the damn Slytherin so long? Was he that dumb or was Lucius just playing with him? Albus shook his head at that thought. The Malfoys were well-known Veelas and Veelas always took their mate search seriously. One such as Lucius would never joke about such an important event.

He sat down behind his desk, scowling at the room around him. There were too many distractions. He needed to focus on the problem that was Harry Potter, his escaped pawn.

A/N: And so the plot thickens! Draco was SO CLOSE, but not quite there. Hehe. I felt a bit evil writing that. Oh and a quick thank you to my now-99 followers on his story. It feels so great having people enjoy my work. Thank you very much for reading.I'm thinking about starting to do previews at the end of each chapter because it seems to help be plan everything out so here it is:

Preview: Harry has a bad day. Draco sees something he wishes he didn't.