Title: Vivica, Chapter Eight
Author: frkwerewolf
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco/Ron
Rating: R
Summary: Changes are in the air and Draco discovers something about himself that will change everything he knows.
Author Notes: i present to all of you the first step toward Rated R-ness: Shower!Draco!!!
Chapter Eight
"What does 'mein kind' mean?" Draco asked, walking slowly behind the tall woman. She paused in her soundless footsteps and glanced back, red eyes searching his face. "You keep calling me that. I was just curious. It sounds German."
"It is the Veela's native language. Mein kind means my child." She smiled slightly before continuing her walk.
"Where are we going?" Draco asked, finally catching up with her. The blonde woman trailed her fingers down the trunk of a nearby oak, not responding to him at all. "Why am I here? I keep having these dreams... They don't make sense."
"I will no longer come to you, after this night. You know who you are now, this I am sure." The tingling voice responded. "But you are avoiding something, mein kind."
"What?" Draco asked. The serene sense of the dream allowed him to lower his guard, leaning against the nearest tree. The Veela-woman, for that is what he know knew her to be, watched him with her bird-like eyes.
"A Veela is romantic by nature, you can not survive long without a mate." She tilted her head, continuing to study him. "If you hold off too long, your desire will overcome you and you will take what you want. Don't allow yourself to harm your mate this way, mein kind. Please go to him."
"Who are you talking about?" Draco asked. The Veela merely looked at him. It was enough, though. His eyes grew in realization. "No way!"
"The one like fire shall be the perfect match for you." Was all the woman said, her mouth forming a slight smirk.
"Not Weasley." Draco shook his head. Then, like a flash of light or a bird diving for it's prey, the woman was pressing him firmly against the oak tree. Gasping, Draco struggled, but found the woman to be much stronger than her delicate structure shown. Words, sounding much like the silver bell of Christmas, spouted from her mouth. The language was almost harsh on the tongue and Draco was certain it was something like German. Then the woman stopped speaking and stared at him with flashing red eyes. "I-I don't understand."
"You are but a silly fledge." The woman said softly. "Born of impure breeding and dark secrets. You think your better than those around you, but your wrong. You have yet to become something of worth. And here you stand, speaking filth of the one that will own your soul."
Draco opened his mouth to speak, but like the end of all these dreams he was cut off by a blinding light a high pitch screeching.
That particular morning, Draco did not wake to the sun shining through his window. Standing, he slowly padded to his window and stared out at the cloudy sky. His skin seemed to prickle, inwardly telling him that it would be raining in about an hour. Shaking his head, he grabbed his clothes and made his way to his private bathroom. The remenants of his dream echoed through his brain as he started the water.
This was getting insane, in his opinion. That woman was nothing but a figment of his subconcious, created to help explain this whole Veela situation. Frowning at his own thoughts, Draco stripped out of his night clothes, dropping them carelessly on the floor. Within seconds he was standing under a cascading fall of scalding hot water. The heat and stinging hitting his back and neck seemed to give him a pure feeling. Sighing, he tilted his head back and let the water coat his hair.
The words of the female Veela returned to him, mid-shampoo. He could not believe, even if it was just his subconcious, anyone would suggest Ron Weasley as a mate for him. Blinking, Draco stuck his head once more under the water. Mate. That was the word Lupin had used when they talked about Veelas. They didn't date, they didn't have sexual encounters. They mated. Like an animal.
A shudder ran through Draco's body as an image popped up into his head. Ron Weasley. The figure was shirtless and merely stared at him with a curious look. Draco fought it, but the mere thought of the redhead seemed to arouse him. Letting his forehead fall forward, untill his rested against the shower wall, Draco focused on the image in his mind. A small sense of shame coursed through him, but his instincts crushed it without a glance.
Taking a deep breath, Draco allowed his hand to move freely. After grazing his stomach, he continued straight down. There was no need to linger, the desire was becoming painful. Deep in the recess of his mind, Draco was shocked that the mere picutre of Ron Weasley had brought him to masturbating in his shower. He hid the thought, not wanting to start angsting over the whole mate thing again.
Stroking himself, Draco closed his eyes and emerged himself into just feeling. Flashing, images, filled his mind. Ron walking in front of him down the hall. Ron glaring at him, his face turning red with anger. Ron stuffing his face with pie during dinner. Ron stretching, wearing only his swim trunks, before diving into the lake. Draco's body hummed with contentment.
It was another image that broke through his heavy breathing and tightening fist. Ron sitting next to Harry Potter, talking quietly. Harry, wrapping his arm around Ron's shoulders in a comforting gesture. A growl erupted from Draco's throat. His mind developed the scenerio further. Draco throwing Harry off Ron and claiming the redhead right then. The growl filling the shower changed into a groan. A single word seemed to repeat in his mind as he drew out his completion.
Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.
Blinking, Draco slumped against the wall, his body now like jello. Tilting his head back, he let the shower's spray cover his face. Then, gathering his energy, he lifted his hand to the water. Watching the result of his mid-shower fun fall off his hand and into the drain, Draco felt like screaming. He needed to talk to someone. Knowing there was only one person, though Draco hated to admit it, to help him, Draco quickly finished his shower.
Author: frkwerewolf
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco/Ron
Rating: R
Summary: Changes are in the air and Draco discovers something about himself that will change everything he knows.
Author Notes: i present to all of you the first step toward Rated R-ness: Shower!Draco!!!
Chapter Eight
"What does 'mein kind' mean?" Draco asked, walking slowly behind the tall woman. She paused in her soundless footsteps and glanced back, red eyes searching his face. "You keep calling me that. I was just curious. It sounds German."
"It is the Veela's native language. Mein kind means my child." She smiled slightly before continuing her walk.
"Where are we going?" Draco asked, finally catching up with her. The blonde woman trailed her fingers down the trunk of a nearby oak, not responding to him at all. "Why am I here? I keep having these dreams... They don't make sense."
"I will no longer come to you, after this night. You know who you are now, this I am sure." The tingling voice responded. "But you are avoiding something, mein kind."
"What?" Draco asked. The serene sense of the dream allowed him to lower his guard, leaning against the nearest tree. The Veela-woman, for that is what he know knew her to be, watched him with her bird-like eyes.
"A Veela is romantic by nature, you can not survive long without a mate." She tilted her head, continuing to study him. "If you hold off too long, your desire will overcome you and you will take what you want. Don't allow yourself to harm your mate this way, mein kind. Please go to him."
"Who are you talking about?" Draco asked. The Veela merely looked at him. It was enough, though. His eyes grew in realization. "No way!"
"The one like fire shall be the perfect match for you." Was all the woman said, her mouth forming a slight smirk.
"Not Weasley." Draco shook his head. Then, like a flash of light or a bird diving for it's prey, the woman was pressing him firmly against the oak tree. Gasping, Draco struggled, but found the woman to be much stronger than her delicate structure shown. Words, sounding much like the silver bell of Christmas, spouted from her mouth. The language was almost harsh on the tongue and Draco was certain it was something like German. Then the woman stopped speaking and stared at him with flashing red eyes. "I-I don't understand."
"You are but a silly fledge." The woman said softly. "Born of impure breeding and dark secrets. You think your better than those around you, but your wrong. You have yet to become something of worth. And here you stand, speaking filth of the one that will own your soul."
Draco opened his mouth to speak, but like the end of all these dreams he was cut off by a blinding light a high pitch screeching.
That particular morning, Draco did not wake to the sun shining through his window. Standing, he slowly padded to his window and stared out at the cloudy sky. His skin seemed to prickle, inwardly telling him that it would be raining in about an hour. Shaking his head, he grabbed his clothes and made his way to his private bathroom. The remenants of his dream echoed through his brain as he started the water.
This was getting insane, in his opinion. That woman was nothing but a figment of his subconcious, created to help explain this whole Veela situation. Frowning at his own thoughts, Draco stripped out of his night clothes, dropping them carelessly on the floor. Within seconds he was standing under a cascading fall of scalding hot water. The heat and stinging hitting his back and neck seemed to give him a pure feeling. Sighing, he tilted his head back and let the water coat his hair.
The words of the female Veela returned to him, mid-shampoo. He could not believe, even if it was just his subconcious, anyone would suggest Ron Weasley as a mate for him. Blinking, Draco stuck his head once more under the water. Mate. That was the word Lupin had used when they talked about Veelas. They didn't date, they didn't have sexual encounters. They mated. Like an animal.
A shudder ran through Draco's body as an image popped up into his head. Ron Weasley. The figure was shirtless and merely stared at him with a curious look. Draco fought it, but the mere thought of the redhead seemed to arouse him. Letting his forehead fall forward, untill his rested against the shower wall, Draco focused on the image in his mind. A small sense of shame coursed through him, but his instincts crushed it without a glance.
Taking a deep breath, Draco allowed his hand to move freely. After grazing his stomach, he continued straight down. There was no need to linger, the desire was becoming painful. Deep in the recess of his mind, Draco was shocked that the mere picutre of Ron Weasley had brought him to masturbating in his shower. He hid the thought, not wanting to start angsting over the whole mate thing again.
Stroking himself, Draco closed his eyes and emerged himself into just feeling. Flashing, images, filled his mind. Ron walking in front of him down the hall. Ron glaring at him, his face turning red with anger. Ron stuffing his face with pie during dinner. Ron stretching, wearing only his swim trunks, before diving into the lake. Draco's body hummed with contentment.
It was another image that broke through his heavy breathing and tightening fist. Ron sitting next to Harry Potter, talking quietly. Harry, wrapping his arm around Ron's shoulders in a comforting gesture. A growl erupted from Draco's throat. His mind developed the scenerio further. Draco throwing Harry off Ron and claiming the redhead right then. The growl filling the shower changed into a groan. A single word seemed to repeat in his mind as he drew out his completion.
Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.
Blinking, Draco slumped against the wall, his body now like jello. Tilting his head back, he let the shower's spray cover his face. Then, gathering his energy, he lifted his hand to the water. Watching the result of his mid-shower fun fall off his hand and into the drain, Draco felt like screaming. He needed to talk to someone. Knowing there was only one person, though Draco hated to admit it, to help him, Draco quickly finished his shower.