Under the crisp cloak of darkness, the moon gave dim silver sanctuary to the tree tops of the Forbidden Forest. Beams of silken light came through in patches between branches like the distilled rays that shot through to sandy sea floors, giving the illusion of a grim underwater world. Voices carried on the bitter autumn wind, hushed and severe.
"What more do you know?" Rasped the first beast to his companion. The centaurs stood close to keep what is private, private.
"He is certainly one of them. I felt it the first time I encountered the young creature, his power was overwhelming, yet I could tell he still knows not of its extent. When he appeared, the forest sang for him. Word among the other species is starting to spread, that power . . . others will draw near him. A change is coming, the Guardians will rise again. . ." The words of the centaur seemed to silence the entire forest, only the sound of their breathing could be heard in the night. Then, a low thrumming pulsed through the very earth like a heartbeat, voicing its agreement with the beast. The land was anticipating their return.
Harry's eyes captured Draco's and a slow, vindictive grin stretched across his face. The sadistic gleam in his vibrant green eyes cause the skin on the back of Draco's neck begin to sweat and he swallowed loudly in the tense silence. Harry's lips curled slightly and fear seized Draco's gut as he watched the subject of his affections strike with intent to kill. Draco's breath caught in his throat and he felt the blood draining and his head swam.
"Check mate!" Harry's deadly calm voice sent shivers down Draco's spine. He covered it up with a heavy defeated sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed in faux aggravation at having been beat again by his beloved. Draco's stoic white queen was smashed to bits and he covered his eyes in mock horror.
"No! I simply can't bear to watch!" He cried dramatically. He heard Harry huff across from him and practically felt him roll his eyes at Draco's antics. Draco moved his hands when he felt a warm, solid but lithe body slide onto his lap.
Harry was smirking at Draco as he grabbed the blonde's face and planted a chaste kiss on his lips. Draco didn't even try to contain the wide grin that overtook his face as he looped his arms around Harry's waist.
This is how it usually has been between them—some light-hearted teasing, followed by copious amounts of affection, and occasionally (actually, all the time) the situation escalated to long periods of snogging. They hadn't taken it all the way (yet) but it was always a close call every time they were alone together and knew they'd be alone for quite some time. Every time they got close, though, Draco would stop them and tell Harry that he doesn't want to rush him. That he wanted to do this right and court Harry properly.
Which Harry is infinitely frustrated by because Draco has been courting him perfectly since they'd started this whole thing! Every other day it's been flowers or small and meaningful gifts or simple but sweet dates that turns Harry's insides to melted butter and makes his chest swell with the feelings he wouldn't dare deny. Harry is beyond ready to further their relationship and even ready for the mating bond—though it makes his heart beat thunderously and his cheeks redden with heat every time he thinks about it—and he knows that Draco is too. Draco insists on courting Harry like a pureblood and a human, but that's not what they are anymore!
Draco doesn't understand that Izakis don't court. Once both forms of the Izaki, the id and the ego, decide on a mate the mating takes place almost immediately. Some decide to hold off on mating, but if they aren't rejecting the other as a mate, it can be detrimental to both Izaki's health. Apparently Draco plans on holding out for as long as possible, but as they passed the 'One Month' mark in their 'courtship' Harry had begun to physically ache when he wasn't touching Draco, or at least within a few feet from him.
Harry understood why he does it. He knows that there are customs that have been instilled in Draco since birth and his make him feel closer to his human heritage. In fact, Harry found it absolutely heart-warming, and that's why he tried to not mention it, but every time his control would slip a little, his aggravated Izaki side made an appearance and growled at Draco for not mating him already.
Harry appreciated Draco's efforts to not take their physical relationship further, because they both knew that once they do that, it'd become much harder for them if they're not officially mated. Yet, Harry would rather they do both and enjoy their full mating bond. He's aware that Izaki only mate once in their life, and though that kind of eternal commitment would have terrified Harry a few months ago, it only made him more eager now. He knew that Draco was his mate as clearly and absolutely as he knew that the sun would rise each morning and set each evening.
Draco pulled Harry closer until his side was pressed against Draco's chest. He automatically wrapped his arm around Draco's shoulders without so much as a thought. They had eaten lunch together privately at a small round table in the kitchens that afternoon and since they'd gone back to the Slytherin common room early, they had decided to play a few games of wizards chess before class. Which Harry just so happened to be amazing at.
Draco was no longer the terrified young pureblood just trying to protect his family from a madman, Harry could see that. His inheritance had given him power, gave him a sort of control that he hadn't had before, and he used that power to protect what he cared about. In their earlier school years, many thought Draco was a coward—hell even Harry had thought that for a while—but he saw now that Draco was loyal to a fault when it came to what really matters to him and would do anything to protect it, pride aside.
Harry's fingers brushed absent-mindedly through the soft short hair at the back of Draco's head and he couldn't stop the easy smile that bloomed on his face. This feeling. This tightening in his chest. It had nothing to do with bonds or creature inheritances or politics. It was so unquestionably simple and untouched by anything else in their world. There were no asides, no required context, no Malfoy and Potter. It was just Harry and Draco.
Draco brushed his thumb over Harry's bottom lip. The corners of his mouth tugged up without his knowledge as he studied the bright face before him.
"What are you thinking, love?" Draco asked softly, his fingertips skimmed up Harry's jawline, breezed a phantom trail up to his temple and slipped into his hair. Harry turned his face slightly and pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of Draco's wrist, feeling the pulse jump under his lips.
"I'm thinking . . . I want to be mated to you already." Harry gave Draco a pointed look that was ruined by the smirk on his lips. Harry paused and his smile slipped. "Unless . . . you're unsure about us. It's alright if you are! I can wait longer, I don't want you to feel—"
"Of course I'm sure about us! You are the only one I want to be with for the rest of our lives. I knew that from the moment you swiped those adorable little claws at my throat!" Draco grinned and lighted Harry's hand to his mouth, he kissed each fingertip lovingly, his eyes never left Harry's as he did so. Draco exploded with authentic laughter when Harry growled at him, baring his fangs. As Draco's laughter finally settled down, his face became happy but serious again. "Please, don't ever doubt that I love you with more than I ever thought I was capable of."
Harry froze, his eyes widened and his breath remained caught somewhere in his throat. Neither of them had ever said specifically . . . that before. Sure, Harry knew that he loved Draco, and most of the time he was positive that Draco felt the same way, but it hadn't been spoken aloud by either of them and Draco had just bloody said it like it was a plain fact and not a big deal at all! 'I love you' echoed in Harry's head.
It was not something he had much experience with. Yeah, he'd heard it before, but always directed at others! Petunia used it almost every time she'd spoken to Dudley, but never towards Harry. Ron and Hermione had only ever shone their love in their actions. Ginny and Harry's brief and unsuccessful fling during his sixth year had never amounted to anything close to love. Harry liked Ginny, but Harry quickly realized he'd only felt such affections towards her because she was familiar and safe and actually wanted him. Ginny was a sweet girl, but Harry had only ever seen her as a star-crossed girl who saw Harry as her hero.
Harry suddenly snapped out of his daze, having realized he'd just sort of stared at Draco the entire time his mind had had a small meltdown over what Draco had said. Harry leaned in and when they kissed, it felt like warm alcoholic honey had been poured down his throat. Made his insides feel warm and tingly and his head dizzy as their mouths moved slowly. Their mouths opened and Draco's tongue swept through Harry's mouth in a savoring, intimate way that made Harry whimper.
Before Harry completely lost himself and forgot what he wanted to say, he pulled back enough to look Draco in the eye. Harry pressed a hand to Draco's chest when he tried to follow Harry's movements and continue the toe-curling kiss, which Harry felt deeply satisfied with himself, knowing he had put Draco in such a state.
"I love you too." The words came out confidently, and Harry was glad he'd said them right then because the arousal that clouded Draco's eyes cleared as fast as if someone had just splashed ice water in his face. He grinned wider than Harry had ever seen and he suddenly attacked Harry's neck, Harry produced an undignified squeak as his neck was licked, kissed, sucked, and lightly bitten with fangless white teeth. Draco's arms locked around Harry's waist and kept him from getting away when he tried to get up.
After a few more teasing nips, Harry gently pressed on Draco's chest and he immediately backed off. Harry then stood, a smile on his face as he pulled the blonde to his feet and left the common room. After a few comfortably silent moments of walking, Harry turned his head toward Draco and grinned.
"I just remembered I never asked, how did your father react to the news of our . . . courtship?" Harry's tone was full of amusement as he pictured the elder Malfoy's face when saw the Daily Prophet during his breakfast one morning, headlining with 'Romance Sparked between Savior and Slytherin?' With a picture of Draco and Harry that had been taken without either of their knowledge.
In the photo, the two stood in an empty corridor, positioned very close together with private smiles on their faces as their mouths moved without sound. Harry doesn't remember the moment that the picture had been taken exactly, but the Harry in the photo had looked absolutely besotted, as had Draco.
The article written about their relationship had vague details, but most of it was accurate and rather surprisingly positive about his relationship with the formerly suspected Deatheater. Harry would never admit it to anyone, but he'd taken a copy of the newspaper and it was stowed away in his trunk under several folded jumpers.
"As you can imagine, he was very shocked at first. He thought I had gone mental! But I suppose his reaction was far less extreme because of everything that has changed for you recently: accepting your title, switching to Slytherin, publicly associating with suspected Deatheaters, being a dark creature.
"I think he still sees you as the light side's Golden boy since he hasn't seen the change for his own eyes. Though, that'll change once he meets you—which will be happening soon! A few weeks from now I will be returning home for my father's birthday and I want you to come with me." Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco, but didn't say anything because he did want to meet Draco's parents.
"I think his unease is partially due to the fact that deserting Voldemort really brassed off the bloody sod and he's been worried that he's going to come after mother or me for revenge. Not to worry, I reinforced the wards around our home so that not even Voldemort can get in." Draco's tone was light and amused, but Harry knew he was still worried about his parents without him there to protect them.
Voldemort had been oddly quiet since Sirius's death and their small showdown at the ministry. Though there had been small sightings of Deatheaters here and there, nothing truly sinister had taken place thus far. Harry would be lying if he said it didn't make him uneasy.
Harry may have stepped away from the appointed position of 'savior', but that didn't mean Voldemort would be oh-so-considerate and back off of Harry completely. Also, Harry wouldn't exactly be happy if innocent people died just because he wanted to make some of those on the light side suffer for their sins against him and others around him.
"I'm guessing that you've done the same for your Godfather? Released him from Voldemort's hold, that is." Harry asked, realizing he had never actually asked, he just assumed Severus was no longer a part of Voldemort's inner circle.
"Yes, I did it soon after I had done the same for my parents. If he had stayed, Voldemort would have surely used him against my parents and even me. I also made sure his home was adequately warded." Right then, they'd reached their classroom and sat in their usual spots. Nothing but a little small talk between them until Minerva strode in. As always, she was all stiff posture and sour condescending looks for her room full of students.
She introduced the partner project they were to do for the rest of the hour and Harry sort of zoned her out. Since news of their relationship had broken out, Harry had almost always been partnered with Draco.
Yet, when McGonagall reached Harry, the name that followed his had indeed not been Draco's. In fact, the name that followed his was the worst possible partner he could have out of the entire class. Heads perked up in surprise and Harry immediately stood and approached McGonagall. Harry completely ignored the bitter-faced redhead when he passed.
"Professor McGonagall, might I ask why you chose Ron to be my partner?" Harry ground out in a quiet tone that not even those sat in the first row could have heard. McGonagall measured Harry with a harrowing look before answering.
"It has come to my attention that the relationship between you and Mr. Weasley has become rather . . . strained. I will not stand for such a close friendship be tarnished by, to put it frankly, stupidity!" McGonagall trilled in her proper Scottish accent. "Now, off you go, back to your seat next to Mr. Weasley. There will be no fighting in this class room, so will you and Ronald please sort yourselves out without fists and insults!?" McGonagall practically shooed Harry off once she was done speaking.
Harry retrieved his belongings from their place next to Draco, giving him a brief look to tell him it was fine and Harry might even find amusement in infuriating the prick. Ron didn't look at him when Harry tossed his things loudly onto the shared tabletop and sat down next to him. Ron simply leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes carving out holes in the black board in front of them.
Hermione sat directly in front of Harry, due to her own mismatched partner and rotten luck. Harry couldn't help the bark of laughter that erupted from him. Ron flashed a glare in Harry's direction and Hermione pretended she didn't even know who was behind her.
"The 'Golden Trio' back together again! How . . . nostalgic." Harry drawled on in a sardonic tone. He smiled at the obvious discomfort of the other two who had listened to his every word, even if they pretended not to. Harry caught the poisonous sneer that formed on Ron's face as he kept his eyes ahead. The room filled with a buzz of conversations as the other students got to work, drawing the attention away from the three.
"I have to say, I never expected the broken little boy to get on so well without his precious friends." Harry's smile vanished instantly and he slowly turned to look at Ron. Ron looked back and smirked smugly when he saw that he'd gotten Harry's undivided attention with that remark. "Say, do those snakes tolerate your pity-parties, or have you just finally smarted up and stopped advertising your pathetic past to everyone?" Harry tensed up. The words, even from an arsehole, were painful to hear. "People have to deal with their own crap without having to hear about yours. I mean honestly, if it was really that bad you could have just tried a little harder at not fucking things up. You really only have yourself to blame for—"
A jarringly loud smacking noise instantly doused the room in silence. Harry blinked wide eyes several times as his mind tried to process how Hermione had moved so fast and why she was breathing heavily. Her nostrils were flared and her eyes alight with fury. Tried to decipher why Ron's cheek looked so painfully red, appearing absolutely shell-shocked next to Harry. Harry blinked several more times as his brain finally caught up with what he'd seen.
"Ms. Hermione Granger!" Professor McGonagall sliced through the silence with an incredulous shout. "We do not physically attack other students! You are dismissed from the rest of class, I expect to see you as soon as the hour is through."
Muffled whispers broke out all over the class with wide eyes that flickered back to Hermione every other moment. Hermione didn't seem to even notice, though. Instead, her gaze moved from Ron over to Harry.
Harry gave a singular nod in silent thanks, but Hermione looked down and away, like she thought she didn't deserve the appreciation from Harry. And perhaps she didn't. Harry hadn't totally forgiven her, but as she stoically packed her things and left the classroom, he realized that he didn't exactly hate her either. He found, perhaps, that it might be possible for him to forgive her in the near future.
For the rest of class Harry sat back and silently admired the bright red handprint on Ron's cheek that he couldn't help but touch and prod every few seconds. It just about made Harry's day at the end of class when he noticed that a few parts of where the palm had made contact had started to bruise.
Unfortunately, Harry wasn't allowed to bask in the afterglow of watching his twat of an ex-mate get bitch-slapped by someone who, until recently, took Ron's side on everything. This was because of the stern inquiries Draco laid on him the moment they were a fair distance away from everyone else in the hallways. Apparently Harry's smooth evasion tactics lately haven't been evasive enough. Harry wanted to tell him, he really did, but every time he got close he'd lose his nerve and convince himself that it's in the past and to just let dead things stay dead.
Now, faced with Draco actually asking for the answer, Harry felt this overwhelming feeling of 'I'm not bloody ready for this! It's too soon!' Harry's heart pumped double-time and his mind completely left him as his panic mounted. Just as Harry opened his mouth to spew another poorly constructed evasion, he was saved by the high, airy greeting from behind him. Harry turned and grinned at Luna as she approached the pair.
"Luna, what an unexpected surprise! I thought you were staying with your father in Iceland for another three days to catch the migration of, what was it? Galnic Snails? Before they reached the ocean." Harry was actually very pleased to have his friend back early. He and Luna had grown ever closer over the recent months.
"Ah, unfortunate local culling made the trip a rather short one." Luna stated as if the fact didn't faze her in the slightest as she twisted a dark blue bead locked around a long wavy lock of light blonde hair between her fingers.
"Actually Luna, I have some things I wanted to discuss with you briefly, would you mind taking a short walk with me?" When Luna smiled, Harry hooked his arm with hers and turned to Draco who looked far from fooled and gave Harry a look that suggested that they would be talking again later.
The pair walked off together as Draco went the opposite way for his next class, which was the same class as Harry, but he was unconcerned. After a few pleasant minutes of walking in silence, Luna's voice rang like soft bells in the corridor they passed through as she spoke.
"I've been hearing quite splendid things from the forest lately. It hums the sweetest melodies." Luna followed her confusing words with a haunting melody that covered Harry's arms with goose bumps. Not quite what he would have categorized as 'sweet'.
"'Hums'?" Harry asked, not in a patronizing tone, but a curious one. Luna made an affirmative noise but didn't elaborate.
"It's strange, Harry. I wonder why the school gave you your own room when you switched." Luna's blonde head dipped to the side a little as she pondered. Harry frowned slightly, she made it sound like the school was a conscious, sentient being rather than just a magical building.
"How do you mean?"
"Hogwarts wants all of its children to feel a sense of community. So, why give you your own room?" Luna had the same half-there tone that she usually had, but Harry had a feeling that Luna was being very serious right then and he should pay attention.
"The dorms of my year were full so I got lucky and got my own room." Harry shrugged, but Luna just shook her head.
"Those rooms don't fill. They can get crowded and then divided equally between more rooms, but the rooms are ever expanding and don't leave one child on their own. So you must wonder, what might the school be telling you?" Luna turned when Harry gave her a confused look and just smiled happily at him.
"It's silly how stars are brightest on the darkest nights." Luna sighed, having slipped back into her usual nonsensical dialog, which Harry rather enjoyed at times when he didn't want to talk or think about anything with weight in their lives.
That night Harry avoided Draco to sleep alone in his magically-expanded bed for the first time that entire week. Harry felt guilty after he'd turned down Draco's offer to spend the night with him, especially after the amazing way the first half of the day had gone. Yet, every time Harry thought about facing Draco and his questions, his gut twisted and he couldn't go through with it.
Despite Harry's restless mind and the queasy feeling of anxiety that rolled in his gut, he dropped off into a deep sleep quickly. Unfortunately, it wasn't dreamless. . .
As the black fog cleared, the world became visible around Harry and he noticed that he was in a kitchen. A kitchen Harry knew sickeningly well. Harry's eyes were level with the objects on the counter tops, meaning he was back in the body of his 5-7 year old self. Harry was alone in the kitchen, he noticed, as he quickly looked around to see if anyone was watching.
Harry opened one of the overhanging cabinets and reached for a glass. Harry was too short to reach the crystal glasses just inches from his fingers, but Harry felt a terrible thirst and just wanted a little bit of apple juice from the fridge. Determined, Harry pushed up onto the balls of his feet, his fingers plucking at the very rim of the glass. As Harry tried to tilt it towards him so he could grab it, the glass tilted too far and fell onto the counter with a heart-stopping cracking sound.
Harry heard the pounding footsteps stampeding toward the kitchen and he jumped back, away from the counter like the broken glass had tried to bite him. A towering Vernon Dursley entered the kitchen, first looking at Harry with suspicion, then seeing the precious crystal lying on its side on the counter.
Vernon's face took on a deceptively calm expression as he picked up the glass and set it up right. The majority of the cup was intact, but most of the rim had been broken off and laid on the counter in two thin chunks. Vernon looked back at Harry and Harry was seized by fear.
"Were you trying to get a drink?" Vernon's friendly tone and no visible anger coaxed Harry to answer, even as something screamed in the back of his head not to. Harry nodded shallowly. Vernon didn't say anything as he turned to the fridge next to him and pulled out a pitcher of apple juice, pouring a generous amount of the golden liquid into the glass. Then he picked it up and extended it towards Harry. Harry didn't move until Vernon firmly told him to take the cup.
"You wanted a drink, so drink." Vernon said in that same pseudo-calm voice. Harry turned the cup to the unbroken rim with his small hands and began lifting it towards his lips. "No. That is not how I gave it to you. Turn it back and drink!" Vernon's voice was low and full of barely contained venom.
Harry turned it back, the sharp edges now facing him, but he didn't bring it back to his face. Instead he looked back up at Vernon with wide, terrified eyes.
"Drink!" Vernon shouted.
Harry shook his head pleaded with his uncle.
"I-I can't." His small voice stuttered and his entire body shook with fear.
"DRINK, BOY!" Vernon bellowed, causing little Harry to flinch. Harry's lips trembled as he slowly brought the cup to his mouth. Harry felt the rim tug at his lip in a way that itched and stung, the juice filling his mouth was bitter and tasted like old pennies. Harry immediately pulled away and choked down what was in his mouth.
"Finish your drink! We do not waste such things on filth like you in this house! You will drink until every last drop is gone or else you can find someone else to burden!" Vernon threatened.
Harry sobbed as he brought the wretched cup back to his mouth and as he drank, something warm dripped down his chin.
After that, the scene changed to another memory and played out to much of the same effect. Harry saw the time he didn't wear shoes outside when he was 9 and came back in with dirty feet, tracking dirt all over aunt Petunia's white carpets. Petunia had told him to go pick up milk from the supermarket and to run because it was almost time for dinner and if he was late, he wouldn't get any. When he went to slip on his old trainers, Petunia ripped them back off and told him to go without. Because Harry had ran the whole way there and back, desperate to make it on time so he could eat, he had cut up the bottoms of his feet and Petunia had made him stay outside so that he wouldn't get blood and dirt on the carpet. He never did get dinner despite being on time.
He saw long, lonely days in the cupboard. He saw restless, exhausting nights where the hunger pains kept him awake the whole night. He saw Dudley and his friends pushing him down and kicking his ribs in. He saw pain. He saw fear. . . He felt fear. . .
When Harry woke up he could hardly breathe, he was shaking uncontrollably, and the residual fear felt too real in the still-dark room. Harry sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over with his elbows resting on his thighs so he could drop his head into his hands. Harry's head pounded with his fitful and restless sleep that came from the few hours he'd actually caught.
Merlin! It's like every time he starts to forget what happened and move on from his past, he has one of those blasted dreams and he's forced to relive some of lowest points of his life. They didn't always star the Dursleys, sometimes it was Sirius's death all over again, or one of the monsters he's face before but in his dreams he always died a meaningless death, or Voldemort catches him unguarded and takes him out when he least expects it.
More recently he's had nightmares of that closet on his 17th birthday, but there's no inheritance and he doesn't get saved. Sometimes he doesn't recognize the things or people he sees in a dream, but when they die in front of him, he's overcome with grief like he'd known them all his life.
I will tell Draco. Harry resolved. It's just something that had to be cleared up before they were permanently bonded.
And two days later, Harry had pushed it out of his head so much that he'd almost completely forgotten about telling Draco. Harry was back to smiles, and sweet kisses, and 'I love you's in no time at all. Draco smiled and everything else in the world faded away.
On Friday morning, three days after making that forgotten secret resolution, Harry was walking and laughing with Draco in the halls during their free period. Nightmares and invasive questions forgotten. When Severus suddenly appeared in front of them and Harry startled, having not noticed his approach. Snape greeted them briefly before pulling a folded and wax stamped piece of parchment from his billow-y immaculate black robes and handed it over to Harry.
Already having a slight clue as to what it was, Harry cracked the wax and read the parchment right then and there. Harry rolled his eyes, having guessed correctly that it was a summons from Albus. Probably looking for another verbal smack-down! Harry thought smugly.
"Do the both of you want to join me this time? It should be fun!" Harry waved the summons around to entice the two men before him into joining him in the show Dumbledore was undoubtedly about to put on for him. Draco grinned and eagerly agreed, ready for more than just the stories Harry had told him. Severus, on the other hand, had to be dragged along, though Harry caught the faint excited gleam in his eye as the three made their way towards Dumbledore's office.
But the old man was not alone in his office that time around, with more than just the portraits as audience. Harry took in the additional people in the room and his blood ran cold. Draco had stopped beside him several feet into the office, but Harry couldn't focus on Draco at that moment. Not when three Dursleys stood before him, grimacing and scowling at every wizard-y thing around them. The nightmares from a few days prior rushed back to Harry and he felt a slight quake in his hands. Harry's eyes had frozen in wide terror as he watched the Dursleys, and the Dursleys watched him back.
Despite never having seen the people, Severus only needed to take one look at Harry's reaction to understand who these people were. Snape stepped in front of Harry like a shield and turned an enraged expression on Dumbledore. Snape absently noted that Professor McGonagall stood beside his desk and was watching the Dursleys with barely disguised disdain.
"What the hell is the meaning of this!? Why have you brought them here?" Severus's voice thundered through the room, drawing the attention of everyone but Dumbledore and Harry.
Draco had never heard his godfather so angry before, it took him by complete surprise as he stood there and tried to comprehend what was happening while knowing that he didn't have all of the pieces. Draco could smell the fear that rolled off of Harry and all he wanted to do was grab his beloved, growl at everyone in the room for upsetting Harry, and hide his precious little Izaki away so that nobody could ever make him so unhappy again. But Draco wasn't completely irrational, he knew that such things wouldn't help them right then. So instead, he settled for taking Harry's hand and intertwined their fingers together to give his silent support.
Being reminded of Draco's presence had been both comforting and troubling. Comforting, because Harry always took solace in the blonde's presence and couldn't help but feel a natural calm wash over him around Draco. Troubling, because his hand was being forced. He'd promised himself that he would tell Draco about his relatives, but because he put it off and conveniently 'forgot' about the resolution to himself, it felt as though the universe was getting it's cruel revenge by revealing his past in the most difficult way possible.
Dumbledore ignored Severus's shouts, instead he kept his twinkling grey eyes on Harry. Harry elected to glare at the headmaster rather than resign himself to the torture of having to look at the Dursleys.
"It is with great regret that I tell you this, Harry. As of this moment, your admittance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has been revoked. It is the will of the legal guardians of Harry James Potter that he be taken out of the school to finish out his education at another institution." Albus's tone was sympathetic and gentle, as if he weren't silently rubbing this in Harry's face victoriously. The entire room seemed to have been knocked back by Dumbledore's words, including Minerva, who apparently hadn't known what the meeting would have been about.
"You can't do that!" Harry shouted. He stepped around Severus to face Dumbledore fully. "I'm an adult, they no longer have a say in such a thing. Also, their disapproval has never stopped me from coming here before. If you think that this pathetic attempt will get rid of me, you're a lot dumber than I'd thought!" Harry's words dripped with venom and he was having trouble reigning in his Izaki side to keep him from murdering four specific people in the room.
Distantly, Harry wondered how in Merlin's name Dumbledore had managed to convince the Dursleys to come to what, for them, no doubt amounted to actual hell.
"Now Harry, we may have laws of our own, but our alliance with the muggles requires certain compromises and in some cases, their laws will take priority over our own. In the muggle world, you are still a minor and the Dursleys are still your legal guardians. It is true, in the past I have gone against their wishes and kept you at this school because I was convinced that it would be in your best interest. Now, though, it seems quite clear to me that there are too many bad influences for you here and it would be better if you continued your education elsewhere." Dumbledore was the epitome of a chastising parental figure on the outside, but secretly Harry could practically hear his thoughts shouting 'check mate!'
"You can't be serious!" Harry shrieked as his eyes flitted wildly from Dumbledore, to his smug relatives, and back again.
"I, as Harry's professor and head of house, formally object to Harry being put back into the care of his relatives." Professor Snape's voice was barely controlled, a biting tone just underneath the surface as he fought with himself to come off as civilized.
Dumbledore looked infinitely surprised by Severus's objection, like he really hadn't heard the professor before when he violently rejected allowing the Dursleys to even be in the room! Harry's body went rigid as he prepared himself for what he knew was coming, for what he knew he had to let Severus do.
"It has come to my attention that these people are not only unfit to care for a magical child, but cannot care for another child period. Evidence of physical and emotional abuse have been presented and if the dismissal from Hogwarts isn't withdrawn, I will have no choice but to bring such evidence to the public and have this sorted out in court." Severus didn't look at Harry as he spoke. He knew that looking at the boy might keep him from doing what needed to be done if he was going to protect Harry.
Harry heard a deep rumbling from behind him and could feel Draco's anger and despair and confusion building inside him like a storm. Not waiting for the sky to break open, Harry rushed from the room, not stopping when Draco called out for him. It wasn't what he wanted to do, no he wanted to bury his face in Draco's shoulder and hide from the world. That wasn't an option though, because with that comfort came questions and he needed a moment alone before he even thought about trying to explain such a thing to Draco.
Harry felt so much building up inside of himself, tangling itself into knots that he didn't know how to even begin to sort out. Harry's mind was just too full and it frustrated him to no end. Harry was about to round a corner when he heard two sets of footsteps and immediately turned around to go the other way. He couldn't deal with people right now, but he paused when one of them spoke and he recognized the voice.
"I told you already, I'm done! We're done! Merlin, I was so stupid for falling for you in the first place." Hermione spat out, like she was disgusted with herself. Harry walked up to the corner and pressed his back against the wall. He needed to listen, to focus on someone else's problems instead of his own.
"At least I didn't abandon you for those snakes! One minute we're all best friends, and the next he's suddenly one them! Traitorous bastard!" Ron hissed with a voice dripping with hatred.
"Gods Ron, would you listen to yourself! This didn't just come out of nowhere. He was our friend and he needed us! We were all he had in the beginning, we were all he had when Sirius died and you couldn't get over your own idiotic jealousy to see that! I used to think I loved you, but now I'm not even sure if I know who you are anymore." The pain in Hermione's voice clenched something in Harry's chest and didn't quite understand it.
"Me!? You're the one who slapped me in the middle of class! I can't believe you're taking his side. Well, if you want to be a traitor then I'll treat you that way. If you'd rather live as a traitor than be with me, then you can die as a traitor as well." Harry was behind Ron in less than a second, hand wrapped painfully tight around the wrist that held the wand that's tip was still faintly glowing an unsettling green.
Hermione's eyes were the size of saucers, glued to the green spark at the end of Ron's wand, realizing just how insane Ron had become. Harry caught Hermione's horrified gaze and calmly spoke.
"Leave us, Hermione, I think Ron and I need to have a little chat." The intent in his voice was unmistakable, but Harry was pleased to see that it didn't seem to bother her much what happened to Ron because after only a glance at Ron's surprised and slightly scared face, she promptly walked away without even a shred of guilt.
Once Hermione was gone, Harry ripped the wand out of Ron's hand and placed a hand firmly on the back of Ron's neck, his own wand tip digging into Ron's back. Without a single word, Harry walked Ron over to the closest door to them and was pleased to find that it was an empty classroom. Harry closed the door and shoved Ron away. The red head stumbled and fell onto the floor. Harry threw up a quick privacy charm around the room and warded the door to keep anyone from getting in or out.
Ron stayed on the floor as he glared defiantly up at Harry, like he somehow thought he still had the upper hand in the situation despite being wandless.
"What? You going to bring your big bad boyfriend up here to beat me up?" Ron scoffed and shook his head. Though, the grin on Harry's face made Ron shift nervously. Ron may not be aware of Harry's inheritance, but even before that Harry was quite magically adept.
"No, it's just you and me in here. Unfortunately, I'm very fond of the twins, so I won't kill you." Harry conceded, but that didn't seem to set Ron at ease at all. Harry shed his outer school robes, tossing them onto a shabby table near the door and began to roll up the crisp white sleeves of his shirt. "Fortunately, though, I have a lot of pent up anger right now, so this'll be fun." Harry's grin split his face in such a delightfully frightening way and the panic of the situation finally seemed to settle in for Ron.
"And remember, deep breaths. Don't want you passing out on me halfway through. . ."
By the time Harry stepped back from the slumped figure on the ground before him, the sun had slipped just beyond the horizon outside the window to Harry's right. Casting the room in a dim, slowly fading light, since none of the sconces had been lit in the classroom.
His knuckles were healing already, skin stitching itself back together like they'd never split open to begin with. Harry wasn't even breathing hard at this point, but that was quite a feat! Harry thought to himself as he tilted his head and admired his work.
Ron's face was a mangled bloody mess from the hits, already swelling one eye closed and bruising darkly all over. Ron sat on the floor, one arm resting on a propped up knee while his other hand touched his lip and pulled back to look at the blood that smeared his fingers. Ron lowered a hand to his ribs and groaned as they painfully moved back into position and began to heal. Harry had beaten Ron to the point of unconsciousness several time now, having windlessly healed him so that he could do it all over again. Okay, perhaps Harry was sweating a little by that point.
Once Ron no longer had one foot in the casket, but still battered enough to feel it for the next few weeks, Harry stopped healing him and tossed the wand shoved into his back pocket over to Ron. Ron immediately snatched it up and raised it towards Harry's face.
"Before you try to kill me, you should know that it won't work. The spell will be sent your way instead and you will end your own life." Harry said coolly while he slipped his hands carelessly into the pockets of his slacks, as if inviting Ron to try anyways. But Ron didn't, he didn't look convinced, but he did pause.
"How do you mean?" He asked skeptically.
"Well, beating the living shite out of you was admittedly, fun, but I didn't do it just because you're a homicidal arse-hat! Actually, I was slowly getting your magic to submit to mine, that's why I healed you. You now only have secondary control over your magic, while I have primary control. As it just so happens, my first order for your magic was to attack you if you ever tried to cause harm to another being if it isn't defensive and even then only to save your life. Every ill-intended spell will hit you rather than someone else and if you try to physically harm someone your magic will hurt you instead." Harry explained as Ron slowly got up from the floor, wand still in hand but no longer pointed at Harry's face.
"I don't believe you." Ron spat weakly, wiping some of the blood on his face off onto his shirt sleeve. Harry shrugged in response and held his hands out to the sides, inviting Ron to hit him. Not hesitating to take the rare opportunity, Ron pulled back his fist but only got that far before he suddenly buckled over and groaned in obvious pain that had nothing to do with his physical injuries.
"To put it bluntly, I magically neutered you!" Harry snickered at the horrified look on Ron's face and began rolling down his sleeves.
Ron had scurried away before Harry had finished making himself presentable again, which Harry was fine with. Ron had gotten what Harry had been trying to convey—Harry was now in control of Ron. Harry wasn't sadistic, he wouldn't abuse that power; but much like a shock collar on a dog, if Ron wreaked any more havoc around here, Harry would put him down before anything went truly wrong.
After Ron had attacked the underclassmen, Harry had sought out ways to reign Ron back in and this had seemed like the most effective. It was very difficult to do and extremely degrading, but Ron's magical abilities were weak enough to make it possible and attempting to kill Hermione made it necessary.
Harry returned to his room, knowing that Draco would be waiting there for him. Harry knew that if he tried to think through what he would say to Draco beforehand, he would undoubtedly run away again. So instead, he elected to not think about it at all until his bedroom door closed behind him and he had trapped himself inside.
Draco was immediately all over him, checking to make sure he was okay and unharmed. When Draco sniffed out the blood on his hands, his nostrils flared and he looked like he was about to explode with rage, but not towards Harry, thankfully.
"It's not mine. I needed to work out some frustration and happened to run into Ron." Harry's voice was soft as he studied Draco's face. His eyes traced the smooth, beautiful features with a hard edge to then that always entrapped Harry if he looked for too long. Relief washed over Draco's face and Harry got the distinct feeling that Draco was slightly approving of who Harry had taken it out on.
"I suppose it's time we talked about what happened earlier." Harry sounded calm, but a little distant. He'd detached himself a little from the situation as he had begun to feel like he didn't quite fit into his own skin. Harry was led over to the bed by Draco and they both sat on the side, Draco with his arm wrapped around Harry's shoulders comfortingly. For Harry or for Draco, it wasn't completely clear.
"What happened after I left?" Harry felt a pang of guilt from having ran away from the problem rather than staying to sort it out. For all he knew, he'd made it worse by leaving.
"Severus took charge and began defending your right to stay here while McGonagall slipped away with them before I lost it." There was an underlying growl to Draco's words, but he managed to stay in his human form as he spoke. Harry nodded slowly and sucked in a deep, shaky breath as he steeled himself.
"The rumors going around about Dumbledore knowingly allowing a student to reside with a magic-hating family, they were about me," Harry began, and was surprised with himself when his voice didn't crack right away.
Even more surprisingly, as Harry continued Draco sat quietly with an open expression. The only time Draco responded while Harry told his story, the one nobody had ever heard in so many words, was when Harry described something especially painful or when Harry got too worked up over reliving some tough points in his life and began to cry or stumble over his words.
No matter how hard it was, or how long it took, Harry didn't stop. He didn't think about how the other man would react to his words or how Draco might see him after it was all said and done. It made Harry feel surprisingly lighter to talk about such things; like reopening a wound to get rid of an infection, it hurt like hell but at least it would get better.
By the time Harry finished, ending with the circumstances surrounding his inheritance, he finally looked up at Draco for the first time in over an hour. Draco looked into his love's red-rimmed crystal green eyes, wide and vulnerable and full of hope and fear that Draco might reject him now that he knew how much pain still encrusted Harry's heart. Wanting to never have to see such a look on Harry's face again, Draco gently brushed away his tears and kissed him so gently it stole the breath from Harry's lungs.
"Can I see them?" Draco whispered lightly against Harry's lips. The smaller one hesitated, but after searching Draco's eyes for a moment longer, he nodded slightly. Harry stood up and stepped in front of Draco, who was still sitting on the bed. Draco's eyes never strayed from his as Harry loosened his tie, slipped it over his head, and unbuttoned his shirt. When the white fabric slid off of Harry's body and crumpled on the floor at his feet, Draco's eyes finally left Harry's face.
Harry didn't move as he felt Draco's eyes roam over his exposed torso, pausing on each scar he found. After what had felt like an eternity to Harry of waiting for Draco to react, Harry was startled when Draco finally did and it was not at all what he'd been expecting. Draco reached out and softly gripped Harry's narrow hips before pulling the confused brunet towards him until Harry stood between Draco's parted knees.
At first, Draco only used his hands. Fingertips roamed over the sensitive expanse of skin, tracing scars with the gentle tentativeness of a lover. Harry didn't have many scars that had lasted the years and magical healing, but the few that remained were enough. Then, Draco leaned forward and his lips took the place of his hands, leaving trails of kisses in his wake that had Harry's breath coming out heavy and his lids dropping low when a cool tongue glided over his ribs.
Distantly, Harry knew what was happening. Draco was accepting him, all of him, and writing over his pain with pleasure and love. Draco wanted Harry to think only of him when he saw the scars, and it only made Harry love him all the more.
Harry slid his fingers into Draco's hair, head tilting back slightly and his eyes fully closing as Draco striped a fiery and icy trail over his abdomen. Hands slid down over the curve of his arse and gripped the back of his thighs firmly as blunt teeth clamped down on his sensitive side. Harry's back arched forward and a breathy moan filled the air.
That night, though things didn't get intimate in the traditional sense, Draco laid Harry down on his bed and kneaded concern into his body with his hands, wrote vows of love with his tongue, and sealed them indefinitely with his kiss. Instead of spending the night raw and in pain from the day's events like he'd expected, Harry felt loved and safe. He fell asleep in Draco's arms with a sense of contentment he'd never experienced before.
At the edge of a wood, a harrowed cottage was nestled in a crescent of trees. A humble village not far from the cottage, but far enough to not witness the cloaked figures slipping in and out of the cottage with a softly glowing fire in the hearth. Through a hidden stair, down below the cottage a bustling pub was hidden. Only creatures of darkness were allowed to enter the small pub, ensuring its inhabitants would be safe.
Hidden among the shadows was a figure wrapped in a black cloak, face unseen under the deep hood. The figure was turned away from the rest, seeming to be ignoring everything else in the pub, but in fact, he was listening quite keenly to a pair with heads bent closely together. Taking in every word that left their drunken lips.
"'Ah aint lyin'!" The first man slammed a fist on the table in frustration, voice heavy with what vaguely resembled an Irish accent. "Just as I's told yuh', one o' doe's Izaki's be found holin' up at that there school! Hogwarts, wan'in it? They say he be more powerful than those born out 'ere in a long time!" The man proclaimed rowdily, but the other looked unconvinced and just waved his friend off dismissively.
The figure left then, having heard his fill. The stranger left the den of dark creatures and slipped seamlessly into the words. A grin twisted onto figure's face, the flash of white teeth the only thing visible from under the hood.
"Got-cha!" He gleefully sang into the night air. The forest shied away from the delighted and crazed laughter that echoed through the trees.