Draco scowled at his breakfast that morning, having spent a long and arduous night contending with Pansy's intense questioning about his "feelings" about the bond, and even worse, his "feelings" about Potter. Of course Draco vehemently denied any hinting that Pansy put down that the bond could lead to a mutual friendship, or even worse, courtship. The notion caused a deep shudder in Draco's core and he couldn't quite identify the reasons for that shudder, but he shot down Pansy's prodding regardless. Pansy always was an optimistic girl, which was unusual for a girl in Slytherin, and so she moved to the next unlikely theory. But the optimism only extended to Pansy's voyeuristic interests in the lives of others, as she described herself as a pessimistic cynic.

"Eurgh, I am going to fail!" She moaned and stretched across the table, knocking over Theo's orange juice onto his lap.

"Hey! Watch it!" Theo jumped up, daubing the spilled liquid off his robes with a napkin. Pansy smirked.

"Oh Theo, you're all wet."

"Ha- ha." His sarcasm was more of a usual Slytherin characteristic.

"Oh cheer up, grumpy." Pansy laughed, cleaning Theo's robes with a quick Scourgify. Again, her voyeuristic optimism knew no bounds; Draco and Theo exchanged exasperated glances.

"Could you curb your enthusiasm for about two, maybe three seconds for a bit, Pans?" Draco asked her without hope. "Some of us got no sleep last night, because one of us stayed up asking stupid questions, and the rest of the 'some of us' have essays due in the morning. You don't have to deal with half the shit you give others, so pipe down."

"Oh, now you can shut up, Drakie." She slapped his arm and laughed. "You deal with your own shit. He's just cranky because he has to meet with Potter after breakfast." She explained to Theo.

"Tell the whole house, Pansy, please. It's only my life being ruined." Draco muttered, lazily twisting his fork around his scrambled eggs.

His posture suggested he was relaxed, a constant image Draco was obliged to uphold, but his muscles were tense, and had been all week. He hadn't had anything to eat that morning. He had just pretended he had, hence the way he twisted his food all around the plate, surreptitiously hiding pieces in his napkin when Pansy looked the other way. He did so now, as Pansy dismissed his complaints and continued to tell Theo that she was coming to watch the exchange that morning, and how she'd tell him all about it. The thought only made Draco feel sicker, a feeling that had slowly been creeping back into his life since the session in Snape's office earlier the other day.

Blaise had been sitting next to Draco, and had been watching him closely since the incident in Potions. He was more perceptive than Pansy, and could see how this bond bothered his friend, taking it as a personal blow that he hadn't noticed that Potter's involvement, and Draco's other nature were to blame for the fainting episode in the common room. Blaise leant close to Draco and whispered, out of earshot of Pansy.

"Are you going to eat anything?"

Draco looked at him for a moment, taking in his concerned expression. Raising his brow, Draco very deliberately put a piece of bacon in his mouth and swallowed it.

"Happy now?"

"Dude, we'll be coming with you. You don't have to freak out over this. We'll stop Potter's nefarious actions." Blaise added with a lop sided grin.

Draco rolled his eyes. He knew Blaise was trying to make him feel better, but having an audience to his transformation really didn't appeal to Draco. If anything, it only increased the tension and stress Draco felt. He showed too much weakness when Potter touched him. He couldn't show weakness.

He looked across the hall and saw, as always, the Golden Trio on the Gryffindor table. For some reason, they always seemed to sit right in Draco's line of sight, and they seemed to be having a similar conversation with each other as Draco was having with his friends right now.

Potter looked rather frustrated, and was frowning at the mudblood Granger, who seemed to be lecturing him about the bond. Harry slumped forward and crossed his arms on the table, resting his head upon his arms.

How amusing. A flicker of thought crossed Draco's consciousness. We are sitting in the same pose, he and I.

He shook that thought out of his head as soon as it arrived there. It would do him no good to empathise with Potter if he were to keep up his resistance against the bond. It was imperative that Draco resisted. He shuddered to think of what would happen if he didn't, if that little voice that appeared the night of his transformation finally convinced him it was right. It was becoming a bit of a nuisance to ignore the voice, actually, but Draco would not submit to anyone's askance. He was a Malfoy, damnit.

Draco snapped out of his silent contemplation to notice that Potter was staring at him. Draco startled and looked back at Potter, ashamed that he had caught him when he wasn't as focused as usual, fighting the inner battle he was waging with the voice. Before he could manage a sneer, Potter mouthed something over at Draco. He squinted trying to read his lips.

"Come with me to the room of requirement?"

Draco stood up abruptly and moved to go to the front of the Great Hall, to wait with Potter, fulfilling the bond.

"Draco? Draco where are you going?" Pansy asked him, getting up from her seat and following him.

"Room of Requirement." Draco replied, his shoulders tense with resistance. Blaise followed him and Pansy, hurrying along behind him. Across the other side of the hall, Harry and his friends were getting up to leave as well.

"Why are you going to the Room of Requirement?" Blaise asked lightly.

"Potter." Draco's terse response was all the information they needed. Pansy let out a delighted squeal.

"Oh! He's going to transform!"

Theo looked up from his muesli with a mild interest.

"What? Now?"

"No you idiot. He's going, as in, going, to transform." Pansy's convoluted answer left much to be desired. Theo seemed to consider it, then waved his hand dismissively.

"It's daily, right? I'll see it later."

Draco groaned. He was becoming a regular spectacle.

"I'm not an exhibit." He muttered as his legs carried him to the front of the hall.

"Hey, do you reckon I could steal that Creevey kid's camera?" Pansy asked Blaise excitedly.

"Any other time, sure." Blaise laughed. "But right now, no fricking way, hosé."

Draco reached the column by the entrance just as Potter and his friends did. Granger, Weasley and the younger Weaselette followed behind him. It really was an audience. Draco gave a gusty sigh. Potter seemed to be just as uncomfortable about the scenario, as he looked reluctantly up at Draco before addressing him.

"That was quick of you." He said.

"Yes, well I didn't really have a choice, did I?" Draco bit back.

Harry seemed disappointed at that for some reason, in himself? Behind him, the Weaselboy gave a vulgar laugh. Harry shifted guiltily on his feet.

"Right then. Er, shall we?" Without waiting for a response, Harry turned to go to the Room of Requirement, aware that their interaction was already drawing a crowd. Draco had no choice but to follow, the previous indirect order to accompany Harry to the Room of Requirement still in place. Pansy hurried to keep up, as did the rest of the entourage.

"Just so you know, Potter, we are coming as Draco's guard, as sorts, to make sure you don't do anything nasty." Pansy explained, a jubilant smile in place.

Harry scoffed. "Nasty! I'm Gryffindor, not Slytherin."

"Hey, how prejudiced." Blaise chipped in, in an observatory tone.

"It's not prejudiced." Ginny corrected him. "It's true."

"If you can't all co-operate you aren't coming." Draco threatened, half hoping he could make good on that threat, so he would cut several witnesses from his audience of defeat.

"You don't make the orders around here." Weasley argued. How Draco loathed the ginger boy just then.

"Ron!" Granger exclaimed and slapped him on the arm. In an odd way it reminded Draco of how Pansy was acting this morning.

"But he doesn't. Harry does." The ginger stubbornly asserted.

"I'm not ordering anyone around." Harry protested.

"Aww, come on mate. Why not? You could make him, I dunno, do a dance in the middle of the Halloween dinner, or throw the next Quidditch game."

"Ron!" Granger slapped him again. "Harry isn't going to do any of that. He promised Dumbledore. It doesn't matter how much we hate Malfoy, it would be wrong to order him."

Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes at Granger's display of self righteous hypocrisy.

"I am right here." Draco said quietly.

"We know." The Weaselette told him, with a great amount of displeasure in her voice. For some reason her displeasure made the little voice in Draco's head exude smug superiority.

"You can't fight like this every day." Harry smiled at the prospective audience.

Blaise laughed to himself. "That's right, we're stuck with this every day."

"Where's the 'we'?" Draco reacted. "You won't be the walking peanut gallery all the time."

Pansy laughed.

"Ha! That's what you think. As if we'd miss out on this."

"Ah, it's just about here." Harry announced to the feuding convoy. They stopped out the front of an expanse of wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy. The wall shuddered and twisted and slowly enough a door appeared. The door was tall and made of black wood. It had silver embellishments in the shape of outstretched wings on the front of it. It was truly a majestic door.

"I wish I brought the camera." Pansy breathed, she was struck with awe.

"Well, come on in then." Harry shrugged, opened the door by pushing the silver winged handle and walked through it. The Room of Requirement was fit for the needs of the seeker. Well, Harry had seen it turn into worse, so for a room in which Veela magic was to be exchanged it seemed pretty spot on.

The group wandered into the chamber and assessed the room. The ceiling was high arched domes, and there was a chandelier dangling from the tallest arch. Murals of birds and winged beings were carved into the walls and a great tapestry detailing a Veela shielding a human under its wings hung on the western wall. The room shone with patterns of silver and diamond. It was the most beautiful room Harry had seen in all of Hogwarts. In the middle of the room, a sunken enclave in the floor filled with silk cushions and plush blankets provided the group with somewhere to sit.

"Wow!" Blaise whispered.

"It's amazing." Ginny cried out, astonished.

"Bloody Hell!" Ron croaked upon seeing the riches of the room.

"Hmmm," Hermione mused. "You know, I've read in Hogwarts, A History that sometimes strange rooms can appear along this corridor, but the author assumed they were all different. She recorded the accounts, and I think one of them detailed this room. I'm pretty sure at least one of them did."

"There've been Veela at Hogwarts before then?" Harry asked.

"Of course there have been." Blaise replied. "About 30% of the wizarding world has some Veela magic in their blood or in their close vicinity. A lot of people would have been bewitched, like Draco, or some wizards would have been mates."

"Do you reckon Fleur knows about this room?" Ginny asked her brother.

"Dunno." He replied, still looking at the room's shimmering walls.

Draco had walked into the room after Harry and hadn't said a word since. His previous obligation to accompany Harry to the Room of Requirement was over, having fulfilled that order successfully. Draco would have been free of any Harry related pull, but for the fact that the Room of Requirement had pulled up this particular room for the exchange. Draco frowned. He once again felt weak and sickly, the weight of oppressive magic forcing his free will into submission. The voice was stronger than ever in this room, and Draco felt like he was giving himself a headache by his constant resistance to the pull it had over him. He walked over to the western wall, sparing a quick look for the artwork of the tapestry. Yes, the colours were beautiful, yes, the craftwork was skilful. The image of the Veela's devotion for his mate, for Draco could tell from the picture that the duo were mated, only made Draco feel worse. He fell onto the tapestry and pushed himself up against the wall, holding himself from falling. It was the smallest of steps, hardly noticeable to anyone else in the room, and so Draco hoped his moment of weakness went unnoticed. His face was flushing though; it seemed his temperature was shooting up, making everything seem hazy.

"It's silk Draco!" Pansy called out to him, finally noticing him on the tapestry wall. "Draco?" He didn't seem to have heard her and stayed by the tapestry, leaning against it. Pansy snapped into protective friend mode once more. She was immediately by his side, as was Blaise.

"Draco, are you alright?"

"Hey, mate. You're burning up, are you –"

Draco suddenly snapped back into reality.

"What? No, I'm fine. I just – I'm tired. And I didn't eat breakfast. Don't look at me like that."

"Your face is red." Blaise observed, chuckling.

"Shut up."

Harry clapped, drawing the attention of the group to the centre of the room.

"So," He said, tentatively. "Do you want to start this now, or … ?"

Draco was reluctant to begin, but he knew that if he said no now, Potter would just order him into the centre of the room anyway. He was also worried that he'd collapse the moment he drew away from the wall. He tried to move on his own, without giving his weakness away with his shaky movements. Draco found that the closer he got to Harry, the less shaky his movements became, and the more relaxed he became in general. The voice in his head cried a muted victory chant with every step. Pansy and Blaise hovered along side him for the journey to the cushioned enclave. He sat down amongst the cushioned pillows and removed his vest.

"Woah, woah, woah! Keep your shirt on Malfoy!" Ron roared, humour in his voice. Draco rolled his eyes and continued unbuttoning his shirt.

"You came to see wings, Weasel boy. Not to see expensive things being reduced to tatters, although who knows what keeps you entertained in your hovel of a house. I have no inclination of ruining another shirt for your viewing pleasure." Draco dryly said. He sent the Gryffindors a look as if to dare them to say otherwise. His expression was dangerous, to make up for the complete lack of control that Harry's touch brought on him, but his heart was still racing, and he felt sick with apprehension.

Ron clenched his fist, but Harry intervened with a casual wave of his hand. "There, there, try to play nice guys." He sat down on the silk cushions opposite from Draco and motioned for others to sit. Pansy and Blaise sat on either side of Draco, flanking him, as it were, from the Gryffindors in the audience.

"Hermione, do you have a watch?" Harry asked her. She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a golden watch and chain.

"Five minutes only, Potter." Pansy scowled at the watch. "Let's not get too friendly, agreed?"

Harry laughed. He held out his hand ready for Draco. Draco let his shirt slip down from his back and rubbed between his shoulder blades before extending his hand for Potter. Blaise looked at Draco's back.

"You've still got some pretty bad bruising there, Draco." He said.

"We should tell Snape to get you a salve for it." Pansy offered.

Draco didn't answer, and made some throaty noise of indecisiveness. He wouldn't speak because he was already testing his resolve by being so close to Harry's skin with so much of his own skin bare, and trying not to give in to the voice. He held his hand for Harry, but wouldn't touch Harry's hand himself. It took all his will power to stop from pulling Harry's hand to him and dissolving his resistance completely just to remove these conflicted thoughts from his mind, replacing them with the mindless bliss the bond gave him in his master's touch. But still, he held his hand just out of reach, avoiding the touch.

Harry made some impatient noise, and with that he reached forward and grabbed Draco's wrist, pushing their flesh together. Draco closed his eyes and prepared for the odd sensation that occurred when his wings came out. It was a potent mix between pleasure and relaxation, from Harry's touch, and pain, intense, immense pain as the wings ripped through his skin. Each feather had its own nerve ending, and in the growth of these wings, the feathers set each nerve ending they passed on fire with a dull pain.

Draco's eyes remained closed and he gritted his teeth as he felt the wings spread and twitch, acting as an extra part of his body, now exposed to the open air after a day inside the cocoon of his back. He heard the oooh's and ahhh's of the spectators to this exchange and tried so hard to focus on resisting. He already had his fingers curled around the warm flesh on Potter's wrist, a sort of reaction to the pain of his wings. His hands were tightening already; his body knew he wanted more even if his brain denied it.

It's the bond that's doing this to you. Draco insisted, shouting the message in his head. Do not give in Draco. Do not give Potter the satisfaction. Do not let him win you. You hate Potter, remember!

No, the voice seemed to reply, arguing with the part of Draco that he was convinced was right. You never hated Potter. There was a time when you WANTED to be his friend. And why should you hate him? He makes you feel so good.

NO! I don't want this!Draco told himself. He cut off his internal monologue before his more liberal side could argue back. Beside him, his friends were cooing over his wings, and so were the Gryffindor spectators.

"They're actually kind of pretty." Ginny commented, her voice light and fickle. Draco realised that it was highly likely she was spellbound, as he had forgotten that his Veela allure came out when Potter touched him like this.

"Really girly though." Ron stated. Draco's Veela side could feel that Weasley also felt the thrall of his allure, and his teasing comments would be radically different from the look on his face if Draco were to open his eyes.

"What does it feel like Harry?" Granger asked him, her voice was curious, as if she were asking Professor McGonagall a particularly difficult question on a purely intellectual basis. Draco actually thought he heard the sounds of a quill scratching against parchment and repressed the urge to face palm himself.

"Er," Harry paused, he seemed to be thinking of the answer, but he was probably feeling the same magical pressure as Draco was, and couldn't give an immediate response, as whatever sensation Harry was feeling would likely rival Draco's. "Um, it's very, hard to explain, I guess. Good though."

Draco finally opened his eyes to fix on Harry a look of absolute disbelief. If he were feeling what Draco felt, then why would it possibly feel good to him. Draco was pretty sure Harry hated him too. So by all regards, Harry should be in heavy denial right now.

"Good?" Draco asked him bitterly. The Weaselette gasped as she saw his eyes for the first time, as did the others who had missed on their rapid change during his other transformations. Of course, they were silver, like mirrors, and they gave Draco an added quality of mysticism. The combination of the wings, the eyes and the glow must have been pretty freaky, Draco realised.

"Not like that – "Harry protested. "Just like, it's a lot of magic to deal with you know. How am I supposed to describe it? Come on. How does it feel for you then?"

Draco blanched. The voice in his head urging him to respond.

"I'd rather not answer that question, thank you."

Ron frowned, thinking Draco's response severely lacking.

"Well, Harry's told you his answer."

"Yes, but Potter and I are two very different people."

"Thank god." Pansy muttered.

"But it's just telling us how it feels. You shouldn't opt out after Harry's told you his answer, it's not fair." Weasley continued, his face stubborn, like he expected a greater humiliation from Draco.

"What is fair about this situation?" Draco hissed at Ron. "Do you think that at this point anything has any semblance of fair left? Or are you forgetting how the scale is tipped with this curse?" Draco's wings reared and stretched in an intimidating fashion. Draco hadn't even realised he was doing it.

"Don't you dare talk to me about fairness now." Draco glowered, his silver eyes glinting. His indignation had successfully drowned out the presence of the small mental voice.

"Geez Malfoy!" Weasley exclaimed in a squeaky voice.

"Easy now," Harry said to Draco, in the sort of tone one would use with a savage animal. He squeezed Draco's wrist and pushed more magic through him, sending shudders down his back. Draco turned to snap at Harry.

"Don't talk to me like that! I'm not an animal!" he retorted hotly. He turned to look Harry in the eye for the first time since their hands met, and felt a jolt of electricity course through him as his world was enveloped in green.

"Calm down Malfoy." Potter told him, in the same cautious tone. Draco didn't notice it. He was floating away on a wave of calm. His eyes sort of glazed over with the command, and the hollow persona of the Veela, for he now realised that was what the voice was, filled his view. He was obeying a command of his master. It was a privilege. Draco's shoulders slumped and his features relaxed into a contented, wry smile.

"Draco, are you alright?" Blaise asked him incredulously, that Draco Malfoy, the ice prince of Slytherin could be staring at Harry Potter in that way.

"Oh sweet Salazar! He's done something to him!" Pansy cursed. "Is that what you did, gave him an order? And now he's looking at you all freakily. Is he even still in there? Hello? Draco? No, you see! He's brainwashed him!" Pansy crawled up a bit, so she could get close enough to Harry to prod him, or punch him, or break his hands from Draco's. She wanted to be the tough Slytherin girl her friends relied upon. She raised her sharp manicured nail to jab at Potter.

"You've –"

Draco's right hand reached out and grabbed Pansy's hand before she could land the blow. He had moved so quickly, it looked so startlingly bizarre. Draco's eyes were still glazed and staring at Harry, the Veela characteristics in him so prominent that he looked entirely inhuman. His wings stretched and twitched as they had done before, still calmed by Harry's order.

"Draco, let go of me!" Pansy told him.

Draco ignored her, still staring at Harry's eyes with a blissful expression.

"Draco, let me go!"

"Dude, are you even in there. You're hurting her hand." Blaise warned him.

Draco said nothing. It seemed he wasn't even conscious of anything past his left hand, the hand that held onto Harry's. Hermione noted this with some fascination.

"Harry, you've interfered with the bond. You gave him an order."

"What? No I didn't." Harry replied, startled.

"When you told him to calm down. The bond took it as an order." Hermione told him.

"Oh, geez. Uh, sorry Malfoy. Um, you don't have to calm down if you don't want to."

Draco continued to stare at Harry, his eyes vacant. His hand was still locked tight around Pansy's, and she started to squirm as the pressure was clearly hurting her.

"You can only cancel it out with another order." Hermione said matter of factly.

"You tell me this now?" Harry asked her; quiet frustration seeping into his voice.

"No, I also told you at breakfast, but you weren't listening to me."

"Fine." Harry sighed. "Malfoy, let go of her hand." Draco did so immediately. "And, er, snap out of it. You know, don't be calm just because I said so. Be yourself again." Harry was highly uncomfortable with the thought of making more orders. He didn't know how to word things now. He felt a rush of magic push through his left hand and felt Draco's hand clench tighter on his wrist. Looking up at him now, Draco blinked and although his eyes were still that same Veela silver, confusion and emotion filtered through them.

"You Veela bitch, you nearly broke my hand Draco." Pansy scowled at him and swiped her nails across his arm. Draco flinched, but did not act as if this was an unusually intense punishment.

"What? I don't remember breaking your hand." Draco vaguely muttered.

"Well, you did." Pansy grumbled.

Draco gently reached out for her hand, quite differently than when he had grabbed it earlier. Harry expected her to react and pull her hand away, after what had happened just seconds earlier. Instead, Pansy placed her slim hand in Draco's and allowed him to examine it. The Gryffindors were enthralled at the level of care shown between the Slytherins when they scratched and scolded one another just as regularly. It bewildered Harry. Draco looked closely at Pansy's hand and took in the redness around the fingers. He rubbed her hand with his finger tips and smiled apologetically at her. To Harry's surprise, she smiled back.

"I don't remember doing it." Draco said. Harry was unimpressed with his apology to her, especially as it wasn't one, but then again, Slytherins never apologised. "But I'll buy you a new dress next Hogsmeade visit."

"You do that." Pansy smiled at him warmly.

"Bloody Slytherins." Ron muttered.

All three Slytherins fixed Weasley in their sharp gaze.

"It's just weird, that's all. How you fight each other." Ron explained.

"It can't be that different from how you Gryffindor goodies fight." Blaise pointed out.

"No, but, when we fight it's either a fight or it's not." Ron's explanation continued. "You are either angry with someone, or you aren't. You guys are like both at once."

"That was highly nonsensical." Draco noted dryly.

"Shut up." Ron frowned.

"Great comeback." Draco rolled his eyes at the ginger. He was thoroughly back in control of the voice in his head.

"How much longer do we have?" Ron asked Hermione, who consulted her watch.

"One minute and twenty seven seconds left."

Ron frowned. Beside him, his sister seemed thoroughly distracted by the white wings that loomed over them. She reached out her hand tentatively.

"Can I touch them?" She asked to no one in particular.

"Why should I let a blood traitor like you touch me?" Draco snarled. Harry squeezed Draco's arm.

"If you can't be nice to my friends, you can at least keep the derogatory comments to a minimum Malfoy."

"You're supposed to be the one stopping strange people from touching me Potter. That was one of your conditions in the bond." Draco pointed out.

"Dumbledore said I should try, but it won't kill you to let her see them."

"She has seen them. Touching my wings is very very bad. Did you look at any of the notes Dumbledore made? Did you listen to a single word he said?"

Harry cast a sideways look at Hermione.

"Don't worry, I read them." Hermione assured him. "And he's right, you know. If anyone else touches his wings –"

Her sentence was cut off by Malfoy screaming in pain. While the conversation had turned away Ginny was creeping slowly closer and closer to the winged boy, her hands outstretched. Her hands made contact with Malfoy's wings, and they immediately clamped down on the mass of feathers, scrunching them up in what looked like a painful arrangement. Harry let go of Draco's hand and pulled Ginny away from the wings, shaking her a little.

Draco stood up, anger and pain dancing in his eyes and stormed over to the other side of the chamber. He preened his wings back into place and shot venomous looks over his shoulder at the group still in the enclave.

"Can you guys take Ginny outside?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione. "She's still a bit out of it."

Hermione leant forward to steer Ginny by the elbow out to the carved ornate door. "Come on Ginny. Time to go."

"It wasn't her fault mate." Ron insisted of his sister. "She was spellbound. The crazy Veela git brought it on himself."

"I did not!" Draco replied hotly from across the room, the echo of his voice travelling.

"Look Ron," Harry told him. "You take Hermione's stuff out to her. We've got Charms in fifteen minutes, so I'll meet you guys there."

Harry watched the retreating figures of his friends with an impatient feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew that Ginny hadn't meant to injure Draco, but he couldn't help the scathing anger that fuelled him now.

"You guys can leave too." Harry told the Slytherins.

"We didn't do anything." Pansy protested.

"You were thinking about it." Harry shot her a dark look. "Now go."

Pansy opened her mouth to complain but Blaise stood up, dragging her by the arm out of the chamber.

"He's right; I've watched your creeping fingers. Let's go Pans. Thanks for your time Potter." Blaise nodded once to Harry and ushered Pansy out the door.

Draco watched the interaction from across the chamber. He was conflicted between yelling to the retreating Slytherins for leaving him alone with Potter, but mostly Draco just wanted to be alone with Potter so they could continue the exchange in peace. He knew it wasn't right, and it probably wasn't him thinking this, rather it was the Veela voice; but the shivering sensation of pleasure and pain that assaulted Draco's nerves in this room was not conducive to practical thought.

He settled down from the wall and settled slightly after he heard the door close behind his friends. He knew he shouldn't feel so relaxed being in a room full of Veela charged energy with Harry Potter, The Boy Who held the keys to Draco's obedience. He found that he didn't care. He was in pain because of the grabby hands of the Weasley girl, and Draco needed the comfort of his bond-partner.

"Sorry about her." Harry called out to Draco, his voice was angry. "I didn't know she would hurt you."

"Yes, well, I suppose it's alright." Draco stiffly replied. "She can't help herself, after all."

Harry frowned.

"No, it's not alright." Harry muttered. He didn't know why. He should be defending Ginny if anything, but he was too angry with her. He was angry, and frustrated, and increasingly impatient to continue the abandoned exchange. He crossed the chamber in several quick steps and once again clamped his hand over Draco's wrist. He felt his world melt once again and pulled Draco along back to the enclave in the middle of the room. Draco's resistance fell with Harry's touch and he allowed himself to be lead back to the cushioned level, the pain in his wings was softening as each second passed that Harry's skin touched his. He sat next to Harry and allowed his wings to unfold, silently berating himself for his actions all the while. Harry leant over and smoothed his hand cautiously over the twisted feathers in Draco's wings. Harry felt the blonde boy shudder.

"Does it hurt?" Harry quickly withdrew his hand.

"No, no." Draco quickly muttered, biting his lip. "It helps, but – "

Harry glanced quickly over to Draco, trying to assess if he was lying for some reason. Harry thought it wouldn't be like Draco to pretend that something didn't hurt him. From what he'd known of Draco, if he so much as got a papercut that was grounds to throw a tantrum. He didn't seem the same now that the Veela blood had affected him. He seemed … older.

"Look, you aren't alright." Harry frowned. "Do you want to stop?" Harry was reluctant to stop actually, but he didn't really know why. Draco blinked and seemed to come into his senses. He clumsily extracted his arm from Harry's grasp, and the rush of reality hit his body like a train.

"We shouldn't – I don't want others to come again." Draco asserted through lidded eyes.

"That's alright. You're having no trouble? With the powers?" Harry asked, businesslike.

"Mmm? No." Draco mumbled, pulling on his school shirt. "You shouldn't talk to me out of class about this exchange. Don't talk to me in class either."

Harry frowned at Draco's sudden dismissal.

"Hey, I don't want any more attention, that's all." Draco picked up his book bag and smoothed out his outfit. He brushed his blonde hair back from his face and looked back at Harry once more. The voice in his head was screaming not to leave, painting pictures of what would happen if Draco stayed, the skin contact that the scenario offered. In his mind, Draco's common sense beat the Veela voice into submission. Harry was still sitting on the cushioned floor staring up at Draco as he made to leave. It almost made Draco blush.

"What are you looking at, Scarhead? Jaw off the floor, class starts in six minutes." He snapped, his way of showing the affection he felt.

"I know." Harry scowled, picking his books up and packing his bag. Draco stalked out of the room while Harry was getting organised, and paused at the door.

"So Potter, same time tomorrow?" Draco smirked.

"Yeah, whatever." Harry shrugged his bag over his shoulder and tried not to smile in response. He had to remind himself that he hated Draco.

"Good." Draco replied. "Remember, stay away from me. And read the fucking literature Potter, at least one of us should know what we're doing."

Draco marched out the gilded door and left Harry alone in the Veela room.

The first exchange seemed torturous in hindsight, and Draco lamented in the common room later how he could possibly stand a repeat of it the next day, but as Draco left the Room of Requirement he was pleased. It seemed like the rest of the day could not go fast enough.