A/N: I apologize that it has been so long since I last updated. I'm in the worst phase with my thesis, and it's taking so much time that I don't find the time to write fanfiction as often as I once used to. Also, this is unbetaed. Sorry about possible mistakes.

-M.S.

10. Autumn Rain

Harry was tossing and turning in his bed, restless because of his dreams. He was not sleeping very deeply, but was not awake, either. It was just the kind of annoying sleep, which would leave you both badly refreshed and awfully tired in the morning.

Harry's eyes were moving frantically under his lids. A little black fairy watched the sight curiously, not understanding that the boy was re-living a fight against the horrible Lord Voldemort in his nightmares, yet again.

A little moan escaped the Gryffindor's chewed lips. The fairy scowled, and decided to wake up the restless hero.

Harry shot up in his bed when feeling vicious tickle in his ear.

"What the...? Riddle!" he cried out, annoyed. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

The ink-coloured doxy smirked at him; Harry was suddenly struck with the idea that its owner had spent evening after evening teaching the little pest to smirk in the right, patented Malfoy way.

"Wanted to wake me up, huh?" Harry massaged his eyes, and reached for his glasses. "Why?"

The doxy hopped in the air, grabbed his hand and started to pull him out of the bed, his tiny black beetle wings flapping frantically in the air.

"Huh?" Harry yawned. "What?"

Riddle impatiently tugged his fingers, looking rather silly with his four tiny hands curled around Harry's thumb.

"Alright, alright... I'm coming..."

Harry followed the creature sleepily, yanking his pajama bottoms upwards where they were in danger to fall off. He was feeling rather off-the-rocker and drowsy, until he was suddenly standing right next to Draco's bed.

"Oh!" he blinked. "Uh, what?"

Riddle was looking impatient, and crossed its two pairs of arms. Then it crept closer to the curtains, and waited, a deep scowl on its impish face.

"Oh, of course!" Harry shook his head, in order to wake up. "You can't get to him without me removing the wards."

The expression on the doxy's face could be defined as 'well, duh', completed with a roll of fire-coloured eyes against the black background.

"Uhh... wait a sec," Harry muttered, his voice still throaty after the night. He raised his hands on the curtains, mumbled a couple of 'finite incantatums', and pushed the drapes aside. The doxy immediately sneaked inside the four-poster, and curled onto Draco's peacefully rising and falling chest.

"You're welcome," Harry yawned, and glared at the black fairy.

Riddle smirked again, and started to smooth Draco's chest with its tiny, furry hands from where the buttons of Draco's shirt were a little open.

Harry could not help himself growing a little uneasy. Clearing his throat, he decided to withdraw. However, when his eyes accidentally landed on the sleeping Veela's face, his feet decided not to carry him away just yet.

Harry leaned weakly on the pillar of Draco's bed, and tilted his head aside. Yes... It could not possibly go unnoticed how tranquil, almost kind, Malfoy looked now that he was asleep. There were no creases of worry between his brows. His eyes were closed and not burning with hatred or anxiety. His mouth was not curled in a malicious sneer, but looked almost as if the Veela would have been slightly smiling.

Riddle let out a little snort, and Harry woke up from his stupor. In order to clear his thoughts, Harry shook his messy head frantically, so much so that the world started to spin in his eyes. Then he sauntered to close the curtains of Draco's bed once more.

When he grabbed the dark green hangings, he wondered again how he had gotten himself in this situation. It was quite a shame, actually, that he did not find it anymore so very disturbing. If truth be told, Harry's year had been utterly boring since Voldemort's downfall, and he had needed this kind of excitement in his life. And who else would have been better to aggravate and stimulate him but Draco Malfoy, the bane of his existence since 1991.

Harry let out a quiet laugh. Really, the life wasn't so bad, after all. Besides, he could now experience what it would have been like, had he been sorted into Slytherin in the first place. Maybe he should even try to make some new friends?

Harry looked down at the blonde boy in front of him, and sighed. He had to admit it... he sometimes wondered about Draco Malfoy. Harry had played several times with the thought that if Draco would have received another kind of upbringing, far away from Lucius Malfoy's ridiculous influence, he might have turned out a rather nice bloke in the end, instead of the pompous git he currently was. Yet... it was futile to think along those lines, because Malfoy was who he was, and wasn't about to change his ways anytime soon --especially not because of Harry. Harry let his gaze follow a lock of silvery hair, where it started from the top of Draco's head and curled so sweetly around his ear.

Out of the blue, a feeling of shame crept in Harry's heart. Somehow, it felt so very wrong to secretly watch this one single tranquil moment the boy had had in days --felt like stealing something important from him. But, Harry reminded himself, this was just Malfoy, right? And it really wouldn't matter if he managed to steal a good moment or two from this snobbish brat every now and then, right? It wasn't like Malfoy would have been too benevolent towards him, were their situations reversed.

Harry groaned, and looked at the clock on Malfoy's bedside table. It was a beautiful clock, actually; there were three pretty little time-turners in its belly, and the digits on the clock's face moved every time their respective time-turner turned around. Now, the digits showed that it was five thirty-two in the morning, a.k.a. too fucking early.

Riddle let out a little giggle, and Harry frowned at it. One tiny hand was raised, and small fingers gestured Harry to come closer. Harry shook his head. "No way."

The doxy looked very angry, and crossed its two pairs of arms.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the black imp, and crossed his own arms in turn. "No!" he hissed. "I won't! It's not like he's in any kind of trouble and I want to get back to sleep. Heaven knows what kind of day we have ahead of us tomorrow. Well, actually, today."

But Riddle was stubborn. He gave Harry a menacing scowl, and tiptoed closer to Draco's face. There, with a small gesture of his foot, he pretended to kick Draco's jaw.

Harry gritted his teeth. "You wouldn't dare, you little fiend!"

Riddle grinned, the tiny sharp teeth shining. Despite its generous two inches of height, it was established that it could very well dare do anything.

"Oh, fine! Just don't, don't wake him up, please, because I really don't want his whining to start earlier than necessary. What do you want me to do?" Harry asked, and carefully sat beside Draco. Then he leaned towards the doxy and looked straight into its burning eyes.

Riddle walked slowly towards Harry until he could touch the Hero Boy's face. Gently, he landed all four furry hands on Harry's soft lips.

Harry smiled. "You like me, do you?"

Riddle smiled back at him, and then, quite unexpectedly, plunged its twenty sharp fingernails down on Harry's tender flesh.

A sharp pain flooded through Harry's lower lip, and he pulled his face away. "What the hell was that for?" he hissed. Then he brought his hand to his mouth and found that it was bleeding pretty badly, although the injury itself was not very large.

"Riddle! That was a horrible thing to do! I will kill you!" Harry shouted in a whisper.

Riddle, however, looked unconcerned. He did not even grant a look at the irate Harry, but played with a droplet of something in his hands.

Harry soon realised that it was his own blood.

"Riddle, you're a dead man... er... doxy!" he grumbled, wiping some more blood away from his lip.

Riddle cocked its tiny head, and looked at Draco. Harry watched how the black fairy flew over the blonde's face and landed on his cheek.

"Don't wake him up!" Harry pleaded, quietly.

Riddle licked its black lips, a sharp tongue teasingly flickering over the snow-white, razor teeth. Then it knelt down and dropped the little red droplet of blood from his hands. Harry saw it slither in the Veela's half-open mouth.

Despite himself, Harry stared. How could he not stare, when the tip of Draco's pink tongue so suddenly came forward to taste the red liquid that tainted his pale lips.

Harry found it very morbidly a turn-on.

All of a sudden, an arm sneaked around Harry's waist.

"Wh--what?" Harry squeaked.

Draco pulled Harry closer, firmly keeping him in his clutch. Harry tried to wriggle out, feeling more than a little panicky, but could not find his way out of the trap. And, soon after he stopped fighting, he gasped with greater horror when he felt Draco's lips on his own. The aforementioned pink tongue flickered out to caress his lower lip, before the Veela sucked the injured flesh completely in his mouth.

It was like both heaven and hell to Harry. His eyes dilated so much that he was sure they would pop out of his head. This was not right. He was not gay. He felt repulsed, betrayed, horrified --and yet, his groin decided that he liked the situation oh-so-very-very-very-much. Harry resisted the urge to moan when Draco started to massage his bleeding cuts with a velvety tongue.

Shivers went down Harry's spine, and he was trembling furiously. Should he kiss Malfoy back? Should he open his mouth just a little bit more, and deepen the wonderful kiss? Harry's head was spinning.

And then... it all stopped. Just like that.

Draco leaned back on his pillows, turned his head away from him, and continued sleeping. Or... had he ever even been awake? Awkwardly, Harry slipped out of the bed, and walked back to his own bed, swaying slightly. He could hear the doxy giggling at him, but could not bring himself to care anymore. He was... distracted.

Draco Malfoy had kissed him.

Draco Malfoy had kissed him in his sleep.

Draco Malfoy had kissed him in his sleep after Riddle had fed him his blood.

If that was not weird, then what was?

Harry was suddenly very tired again. Deciding that he did not even want to understand, he nuzzled down in his bed's warmth and dove under his covers. With trembling hands, he touched his mouth and smoothed his bottom lip.

He found it completely un-injured.

**

Two hours later, Draco woke up with a funny feeling in his chest. Something was fluttering there, like a thousand captive butterflies. He could not decide why, but was happy about it all the same. After all, it had been a long time since he had last felt this content and in peace with himself. He opened his eyes and immediately they adjusted with the darkness of the dungeon. He crawled out of the bed, and glanced at the clock on his table. It said quarter to eight in the morning.

And then, a feeling of worry surrounded him. Something was totally out of place. Something important.

Frowning, he looked around him. Everyone else was still asleep, if anything could be decided from the closed curtains. That was quite normal, he decided, if not just a little unusual. He walked towards his trunk and opened the lid, and searched for his toothbrush.

And then, just like that, the reason for his uneasy feelings dawned on him: his own curtains had been open, and the wards... they had been gone.

Draco's cheeks reddened with anger, and he marched straight to Harry's bed. Ripping the drapes forcefully aside, he plunged downwards and slapped the Gryffindor forcefully on the cheek.

"You bastard!"

Harry's eyes snapped wide open. "Huh?"

Draco growled. "Was this one of your brilliant ideas, again, Potter? To find me a mate? Huh? Huh?"

Harry only stared back in confusion, massaging his aching cheek.

"You idiot! I might've been RAPED!" Draco grabbed Harry's collars and shook the Gryffindor up and down. "You stupid, stupid, stupid brat! Don't you understand that if you continue acting like this, I have to secure my own safety by starting to sleep in the same bed with you? And that is something we don't want, now do we?"

Harry stared at him, not understanding, his green eyes innocent and confused. Draco was immediately even more agitated.

"Say something, you twat! Did you, or did you not, just remove my wards in hopes of getting me raped, and consequently, in hopes of getting yourself easily out of this situation? Hmm?"

"I did not!" Harry squeaked. "Let go of me!"

"Then why the hell were my wards down?" Draco seethed, and leaned his face close to Harry's. His eyes stabbed Harry with ice daggers, and he felt a weird, sudden urge to bite down on Harry's lower lip. However, he restrained himself.

"I'm sorry, I must have forgotten to put them back there," Harry peeped. His eyes were large and scared, and he was trying to look at anywhere but Draco. "I let Riddle in this morning, and, ah, I was... probably so drowsy that I forgot to put the wards back on."

"Damn," Draco breathed, and scowled down at Harry. "You just can't afford doing mistakes like that, Potter! What if Crabbe or Goyle would have woken up before either of us, and... ewww, I'm not even going there."

"I... I'm terribly sorry," was all Harry managed to say.

"As you should be," Draco finally let go of Harry's collars and leaned back. "Now, get up!"

Draco leapt up and stormed to his wardrobe. There, he dug out a set of white clothes. Swimmingly, he dove into the tight trousers and shirtwaist that were going to go under the black, formal school robes.

"I'm going to brush my teeth. Meanwhile, Potter, make yourself presentable."

Next, Draco went to wake up Blaise Zabini.

"Good morning, Blaise," he said as he pushed the other boy unceremoniously on the floor. "I want you to protect me when I go to the toilet, so get up!"

Groggily, Blaise stood up and massaged his butt that had smashed against the floor rocks. "Mmhhh... Fine... But why aren't you asking Potter to accompany you?" he rasped. "I was still asleep, you know."

"Because I'm angry with Potter!" Draco snapped. "Now get ready and don't ask stupid questions."

"Aye, aye... Whatever..." Blaise went to find his school robes.

**

The Slytherin table --just like the other tables-- was remarkably quiet that morning. Draco pretended not to acknowledge this, and helped himself a goblet of coffee. He noticed with amusement how Harry automatically handed him the carton of milk, and gratefully, he poured the white liquid into the steaming black.

"Potter?" he whispered.

"Hmm?" Harry asked, distractedly playing with his fork.

"Why is everybody so quiet?"

"Dunno," Harry shrugged.

Draco leaned closer and looked at the Gryffindor suspiciously. "Then why are you so quiet?"

"Huh?" Harry flinched.

"I asked you," Draco heaved a dramatic sigh, "why are you so distracted that you don't even hear me when I speak to you?"

"I... Uhhh... Sorry," the Gryffindor mumbled, his cheeks and hairline turning scarlet red. "It's just that, erm, I had a pretty, ah, weird morning. Didn't... sleep very well in the early hours."

"Oh," Draco looked utterly disappointed. "And here I thought there was something very serious that was tormenting your thoughts. Damnit."

Harry flushed even more, but Draco did not pay attention to it. Instead, he turned his eyes back to the coffee in front of him. Then he stirred it with a little spoon, and started to count the swirls the cream-brown drink made in the silvery goblet.

He almost jumped when he felt Harry's hand squeezing his shoulder.

"You know, Malfoy, now that you mentioned it... Everyone is rather quiet," Harry grumbled.

"Well, duh."

"Um… You could try to stop that fancy glowing thing, you know," Harry continued. "I'm sure, if the entire Slytherin suddenly decided to molest you now, I would be overpowered in mere seconds."

"For your information, Potter, I can't help it," Draco huffed. He tried his best not to think about Harry's warm hand on his shoulder. "Um, besides, the pull feels stronger this morning than yesterday. Actually, my instincts have never been this alarmed before. It is a nice feeling, but it confuses me... and, obviously, it confuses my house mates, as well. I wonder what has happened during the night."

"Oh," Harry flushed, coughed, and shrunk back in his seat. Then he turned around and muttered something about bacon and eggs.

"Something wrong, Potter?" Draco asked, annoyed.

"Nthngmprtnt."

"What?" Draco grabbed Harry's arm and twisted it. Harry resolutely stared at his plate.

"Nothing important."

"Listen, Potter," Draco heaved a sigh. "I know you don't like this situation any more than I do. But I really can't help the fact that my ancestors meddled with magical creatures. Therefore, I can't help the fact that I'm partly a Veela and that I..."

"This isn't about that, Malfoy, not this time," Harry's voice was harsh when he interrupted Draco's tirade. "Just... forget about it. Please. It'll pass."

"I sure hope it will," Draco narrowed his eyes.

A few moments passed, in continuing silence, until Draco lost his nerve once again. Trying to keep his voice even, he addressed his housemates, "Will you brainless morons stop staring at me? It's rather impolite."

Many of his friends had the grace to look embarrassed, especially Millicent and Theodore, but the others only gave him smiles and winks and continued staring. Daphne even fluttered her eyes in what she obviously thought was a seductive way.

Draco examined the wooden tabletop with interest, and mused what it would feel like to bang in forehead against it.

"Hey," Harry nudged him. "Just ignore them. Try to lead a normal life. Maybe they'll snap out of it."

"Specify the concept of 'normal life'," Draco looked tired.

Harry looked at him a few moments. "You know what? I can't."

"I guess we're pretty much the same, then," Draco mused. "Neither of us really knows what normal life is like."

"Yeah, I guess."

They stared at each other in a sort-of-friendly silence, examining each other's eyes. It was the first time Draco noticed that Potter actually had a narrow, almost unrecognizable ring of vivid red around his green corona. The last gift from Lord Voldemort, perhaps?

"The mail!" Blaise shouted, breaking their little isolated moment. "Draco, weren't you expecting a letter?"

Draco nodded at Blaise, and glanced at the ceiling expectantly. He grinned when he recognized his own eagle owl among the other winged beings.

"Finally!" he beamed.

"You were expecting a letter?" Harry asked. "From who?"

"Not that it is any of your business, but from my cousin," he answered, in a rush of detaching the parchment from his owl's leg. Then he looked at Potter, and gestured at the silvery bird. "Give him some bacon, will you?"

Harry lifted a slim slice of the brown and white meat between his fingers and shoved it towards the owl. "So... Is it from your... cousin?"

"Yes, it is," Draco mumbled, ripping open the seal.

"Nymphadora Tonks, perhaps?" Harry frowned, and watched the Malfoy eagle owl nearly nibbling his fingers off.

Draco recoiled and looked at Potter. "How do you know that she's my cousin?"

"Saw your family tree, once," Harry shrugged. "I mean the Black family tree."

"Where?" Draco demanded.

"Um... Here and there?" Harry grinned.

"You little shit," Draco grabbed a random dried fig and tossed it at Harry. "Tell me this instant!"

"Alright," Harry ducked the fruit and looked smug. "I happen to own your mother's maiden home, and it's there on my living room wall."

"WHAT?"

"I happen to own #12 Grimmauld Place in London, formerly known as the Black Manor, and the family tree is painted on my living room wall."

"WHAT?"

"Shut up, you're drawing attention," Harry admonished.

"I am drawing attention already as it is, so I fail to see your point," Draco pouted.

"Don't you have a letter to attend to?" Harry casually pointed at the half-open scroll of parchment.

Draco gave him a nasty look. "That's right. But I can read it later."

"As if! You almost ripped it into pieces when you opened it, so eager you were to read it," Harry mocked.

Draco seemed to be having a short inner battle before he came to a decision. "Fine. I'll leave you and my family tree alone for awhile. But, I'll have you know that were this letter not so damn important, I wouldn't let you off so easily. In fact...We'll talk about this matter later, after breakfast."

"Curiosity killed the cat." Harry tried to look superior, but yelped as Draco's eagle owl bit down at his finger painfully.

Draco laughed, and then started to read his letter.

Darling Sweet Foy, the letter began.

Draco frowned. "I'll kill you, Dora," he muttered.

"What was that?" Harry asked, sucking his injured finger.

Draco was utterly distracted by this arousing sight, and hastily returned to read his cousin's beautiful script, ignoring the burn in his lower abdomen.

Darling Sweet Foy,

You're such an idiot. I say this once, and only once: get your bloody fair head out of your bloody fair arse. You can't possibly help the fact that your mate is Harry Potter. Your genes chose him for you, knowing that he would the perfect match for you.

And for Morgan's sake, don't act as if you wouldn't want him! I know you do. Hell, he's the fucking Boy Who Lived! Everybody wants him. (Don't show this letter to Harry, he'd be horrified of my usage of language). Anyway, you should be thanking your lucky stars that you have this privilege to approach him. But no! Instead you're grovelling in loss and self-pity. Are you mad? You should be flattered that you don't have to marry a mere Nobody.

Marry? Draco gagged, rather audibly.

"What now?" Harry asked, leaning closer. "Bad news?"

"Uhh...What? No! No..." Draco stammered cheeks ablaze. "And don't spy on my letter!"

"I wasn't!"

"You were!"

"Wasn't!"

"Were!"

"Wasn't!"

Draco scowled.

Harry scowled.

And then they turned away from each other.

Draco continued to read.

Yes, I said 'marry'. And please, don't gag; it doesn't become you at all, love. You know that I am a hopeless romantic, and I swear, if I don't see you and Harry bonded and engaged before this year's out, I will personally come to visit both of you, and reveal your secret to Harry.

Draco shivered. "You wouldn't!" he grumbled.

But, then again, he knew that she would.

And, I must tell you this: Harry Potter is a good, kind man. Even if it doesn't seem like it right now, I am sure that he will learn to love you in time. I mean, the real you. Just show him who you truly are. Show him that you can be a human being, aside from being a Malfoy and partly a Veela. Show him that he can trust you. Harry Potter never does things half-heartedly. If he decides to love you, he will never stop loving you. I only hope you realise this, and understand what a rare treasure you have in your hands.

A warm, tingling feeling filled Draco's chest, and he smiled. Would Harry really learn to love him? Then he cursed at himself, and pushed the feeling away. He didn't want Harry to love him, he didn't! And his cousin wasn't really doing a very good job in helping him to fight these sappy feelings. That sneaky wench!

Yes, yes, I know that you wanted me to help you to get out of this situation instead of encouraging it. But life's a bitch, ain't it? Muwahahaa, at least your cousin is. *smirk* Good luck with the Hero Boy, prettyface!

-Dora

Draco remembered his original plan which included a forehead and a tabletop, and started to bang his skull broken.

**

Harry had just received an owl from Hermione where she had asked him to meet her and Ron in the library after classes. However, when he turned his steps towards the fourth floor, he was suddenly dragged into a completely different direction by Draco.

"Hey! What are you doing?" he asked, annoyed.

"It's time to go out, Potter," the blonde informed. "Come on."

"Oh, please, not now!" Harry moaned. "I need to go and study some real subjects at some point of this semester, you know. The first exams are coming, and it's our N.E.W.T. year, like Hermione keeps reminding me!"

"As if you were ever interested in studying, Potter," Draco huffed.

"I am!" Harry protested.

"Oh, yeah?" Draco smirked. "Then I say you have a rather weird way of showing interest in your studies, if anything can be decided from our last lesson."

"It was Double Potions, Malfoy," Harry reasoned.

"And you slept through it," Draco pointed out.

"Well, Snape didn't even realise I was there!" Harry grinned.

"Yes, he did, and he cut altogether hundred-and-fifty points from Gryffindor."

Harry gasped. "He didn't!"

"Yes, he did."

"He didn't! And I don't want to go outside! I already told you, I need to go to the library."

"He did too; just turn around and take a look at your pitiful Gryffindor hourglass. And you can study outside."

"It's not the same than the library! I can't concentrate there," Harry scowled and turned to look at the Gryffindor hourglass that was now considerably emptier than before. "Shite!"

Draco grinned, and pushed Harry out of the Great Hall door. "Told you."

"Alright, so he did. But anyway, I don't want to go outside. You know, I promised to meet Hermione and Ron in the library."

"See if I care."

"Malfoy!"

"You can meet them later, you mongrel. But now, I need my daily sunbath," Draco looked irritated.

"Why not take your sunbath a little later?" Harry asked. "I really promised my friends."

"Since it's shining now, I don't see why we should wait until gets cloudy."

"You're a selfish little asshole," Harry moped, but followed Draco all the same. "And I don't really see the point in these sunbaths anyway. Nobody cares if you die, and you never even seem to get tanned."

"I do get tanned!" Draco looked insulted, and shoved Harry on the shoulder. "But not in the dirty Muggle way like you do."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Harry shoved Draco back. "I didn't know there were many different ways to catch a tan."

"Mine isn't brown," Draco sounded haughty. "It's a lunar glow, and it makes my skin look even paler than usual."

Harry shook his head. Trust Malfoy to be so special, again. "How dandy," he drawled, maliciously. "I bet it makes you shine like an angel!"

"Mock me all you like, Harry, but I'm still going to end up being the prettier one of us," Draco vaunted.

Harry raised his brows at this, but Draco didn't seem to think there was anything weird in his statement. Harry, on the other hand found it incredibly odd. Firstly, Malfoy had called him Harry. And secondly... Harry couldn't decide what it was, but the way how Malfoy had said that they'd 'end up being something together' disturbed him.

Ah, well. Perhaps it was just a momentary slip of tongue? Or, maybe, the Veela's brain had somewhat gotten soft because he hadn't gotten enough sun lately?

Or maybe it was his own brain going soft --another consequence of the morning's episode with blood and saliva?

Harry wisely let the matter go.

They settled down by the Quidditch pitch, on a blanket that Draco conjured up and spread beneath them.

"Listen, Potter. I need to write a letter to my investors," he said, rolling over onto his stomach and digging out a piece of parchment and a quill from his backpack. "I was supposed to do that already yesterday. And I have no intention to let you know anything about my financial business, so..."

"...so?"

"Go catch a butterfly, or something."

"What?" Harry balled his fists. "First you insist that I come here with you, and now you send me away? Fuck you, Malfoy. I will study, just like I promised myself, and will stay right here where it is at least relatively comfortable on the blanket." He lay on his stomach, next to Draco, grabbed his Transfiguration book and opened it from where they had left. "You don't order me around, you great ponce."

"Fine!" Draco put some space between them, and grabbed his quill. "But don't peek!"

"I wouldn't!"

"You would."

"Wouldn't!"

"This is getting old."

"Then shut up and write that damned letter of yours!"

Harry fixed his attention to the Transfiguration text and started reading. However, in mere minutes, his thoughts strayed again to the unsettling happenings of the morning's small hours.

What had happened? Had Malfoy really kissed him? And... had it really felt so very good? Harry cursed. He could still vividly remember Malfoy's lips on his own, the strong hands around his waistline, keeping him close so forcefully and yet so tenderly… Harry shivered with the memory. He had really liked it. But... did Malfoy even remember? It seemed that he didn't.

I need to talk to Dumbledore... Or better yet, Hermione. Or... Maybe not.

Harry removed his glasses, lowered his head and rested his cheek against the pages of the Transfiguration book. The sun was shining brightly, warming his black robes with tender hands. Harry felt his eyes become heavier and heavier, and until he realised it, he was fast asleep.

**

Thirty minutes passed, and Draco gladly wrapped up the long and difficult letter he had written to his Gringott investor. Smiling brightly, he wrapped a red silken braid around the roll of parchment and whistled. Not long after, a shadow started to hover above him, and his eagle owl landed with a true Malfoy grace next to him.

"Hello again," he smoothed the bird's feathers. "Take this to Elirach. It's important, so make sure you won't lose it on the way. I don't want the whole world finding out about my businesses."

The bird, already accustomed to Draco's new shining presence, gave out a low hoot, and dashed off.

Smiling still, Draco rolled around and looked at the blue sky. He felt so good now, so refreshed. The sun had done miracles to both his mind and outer appearance, and for the first time in three days, he felt that a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Inhaling the sweet scent of the grass, he rolled around once more, and to his sudden surprise, came face to face with the Boy Who Lived.

Draco tensed. He hadn't realised that there were no more than few inches space between them, and now between their faces.

"Potter!" he gasped.

Harry cracked his eyes halfway open and looked at the blonde curiously, still a little bit drowsy. Then he yawned and flashed a little smirk. "Mmm... Malfoy. You seem happy."

Draco's heart nearly stopped beating at the sight of the smiling Harry. So beautiful. How could something so beautiful possibly exist? And, more importantly, how could he have not noticed Harry's unique and startling grace already years before? Gingerly, Draco examined Harry's full lips and angular jaw, before returning his attention to the Gryffindor's eyes. "Yes. I'm quite happy at the moment," he admitted, in a half whisper.

"Why?" Harry asked. His voice was soft and content after the sleep.

"Why what?" Draco bit his lip. The urge to touch that smooth, black velvety hair that curled over his mate's forehead, covering the famous scar, was almost unbearable.

"Why are you happy?" Harry simply repeated his question, and blinked slowly.

"I..." Draco found his mouth go very dry. "It... It's the sun, probably. The sun always makes me feel good." Then he averted his gaze from Harry and looked back into the blue depths of the sky.

Harry propped himself up on one elbow. "There's something else, isn't there?" he asked the blonde.

Draco gritted his teeth. "There is nothing."

"Aw, come on!" Harry whined. "Tell me! Did you get some really good news from your cousin, or what? Why can't you let me know?"

"Because you'd freak out," Draco quietly exhaled.

"I demand you," Harry poked Draco in the chest. "Tell me what Tonks said in the letter."

Ah, an outright command.

Draco crossed his fingers and hoped for the best. "She said... that... I should try to... accept the fact that I'm a half Veela and that I can't really help who my mate is."

Draco's heart was hammering. There! That wasn't a lie, at least.

"I knew Tonks would manage to hammer some sense into you," Harry grinned. "What else?"

"She also said that... my mate... would surely fall in love with me for real, and not just because of these... powers."

Harry snorted. "Well that explains your good mood, certainly. It's such a positive view on this sordid matter, in fact, that even you can't have thought about it before. I'm sure I would never have thought of it, because... Well. Who'd ever fall in love with you?"

A sharp pain, not entirely unlike a stab of a dagger, ripped through Draco's chest, plunging straight into his heart. A burning pain, not entirely like Muggle fire, spread behind his eyelids, making it almost impossible for him to fight tears. "I... You're right. I'm being silly."

Harry watched how the Veela suddenly lost his joyful mood. Every single trace of happiness washed away from his face, and he turned around. Even the sun decided to escape into the shelter of one lonely cloud that moment, and Harry felt cold shivers run through his body.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy, I shouldn't have said that," Harry heard his own voice speaking.

"It's alright," Draco swallowed. "You are right. My mate would never fall in love with me."

Harry looked at his back with sad, frightened eyes. "I... I'm sorry, Malfoy. I shouldn't have been so un-supportive. I'm mean, I'm sure that when we find your mate, she --or he-- will really truly love you. The real you, I mean."

Draco did not reply.

"Malfoy?" Harry was getting worried. "Come on, Malfoy, talk to me. I'm sorry, okay?"

Draco swallowed his pain and slowly rose to his feet. "Let's get inside, Potter. I can feel a rain coming."

"But... the sky's clear," Harry scowled.

"Is it?" Draco asked, quietly.

"Yes, it..." Harry tilted his head and turned to look at the azure sky again. 

He found it dark, stormy grey.

"M-Malfoy?"

The skies cracked open exactly at the same moment when the first, silent tear slid along one of Draco's long eyelashes and fell on his high, ivory cheekbone.

...TBC...