Title: Life Long Love

Author: Emerald Thorn

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Author's Notes: Anyone want to beta?

Chapter One:

Voldemort had been jabbering on for quite some time now and Draco was only semi-aware of the rasping voice that filled the cold, damp hallway of the castle. Crowded in around Voldemort, the Death Eaters surrounding Draco were hanging off of every spit laced word that came out of the shrunken husk of a human being. Well, Draco called it human but 'monster' may have been more appropriate. Voldemort's skin was wrinkled and stretched impossibly tight over thick, unhandsome features. Burning red eyes completed the horrific look, glaring out from beneath the sable mantle pulled over the hairless head. Draco had once seen Voldemort with the hood thrown back and his only comment on the affair was that varicose veins should not be visible on someone's head. The experience was a rather revolting one and Draco had come to associate torture, especially anything involving crucio, and Voldemort's ugly mug. It didn't help that the one time he had seen it he was in the middle of being punished for being unable to serve Potter up on a silver platter.

Draco was rather proud of himself in that regard. Since Voldemort was rather good at occlumency, Draco had been taught since birth how to disguise his mind and protect himself from unwanted probing. His skills had progressed to the point where Draco had a perfected mental version of his public self in place for anyone attempting to break into his mind. Whenever someone read him, and Draco was aware he had been read several times during his life without him 'supposedly knowing,' they saw only the façade, not Draco's true mind. Draco had been taught by his godfather who was not as good as Draco now was. It had been difficult to keep Voldemort from prying into the sanctuary of his mind and if given the choice, Draco would never repeat the experience again unless absolutely necessary, the first and only time Voldemort had attempted to read him had left Draco with a headache for a week afterwards.

Draco's wandering attention was brought back to Voldemort sharply by the scent that reached his nose as Voldemort's voice rose in pitch with excitement as he waved commandingly to Pettigrew to bring out the evening's entertainment. Oh no…this couldn't be happening…

Voldemort gestured grandly off to the side and a struggling figure was flung before him. A black cloth bag was tied over the figure's head and the limbs had been tightly wound together behind the victim's back with slender, sharp-edged chains that had cut into the skin and were coated in a thin layer of blood. Draco didn't need to wait for Pettigrew to uncover the face of the prisoner, before him was his mate.

In retrospect, maybe if Draco had taken the potions earlier, at the first beginning signs that the potions were wearing thin, he wouldn't have done what he did next and would have been more prepared. However, even with the potions, Draco would not have had much time to do anything else other than what he now did.

Before Pettigrew could so much as lay a fingertip on his struggling mate, Draco was at his mate's side, appearing to the surrounding Death Eaters as a black blur. Snarling, Draco mentally cast a spell that dissolved Harry's bindings while he reached under the black death eater robe and grabbed the platinum dragon amulet he wore around his neck. Wrapping himself around Harry, Draco whispered the command to activate the emergency portkey, "Protect."

With a wrenching tug at his midsection, Draco pulled his mate with him as the portkey did its job and sent them to the safest place Draco knew—the Malfoy sanctuary that had been hidden from all non-Malfoy's for almost a millennia—Dragon Stone Vale.

Harry was greatly surprised when he felt the chains give way to a strong pair of arms followed by the unpleasant feeling of portkeying. Then again, as he was already in the beginning stages of physical shock from blood loss and an earlier blow to the head, being rescued wasn't the worst shock he'd had today. Landing wherever the portkey had taken them, Harry couldn't stop the immediate urge to throw up—which he promptly did, right into the bag covering his face. Yuck.

Once started, Harry felt as if he couldn't stop retching. The arms that had surrounded him started to work at getting the bag off of his face as Harry's hands were busy holding his body from falling face first to the ground. Bag off, Harry gasped in huge lungfuls of air, mindless of his surroundings while trying to stop the nausea and avoiding passing out. A hand was holding him at the shoulder while another was rubbing his lower back. A calm voice that sounded familiar was saying, "It's all right. You're safe. He can't follow you here."

Harry then proceeded to pass out.

Draco ripped off his Death Eater mask and hurled it into the decorative hedge that lined the interior of Dragon Stone Vale's portkey space. Harry lay passed out on the ground, bleeding heavily from his scar and where the chains had dug into his skin. Casting a levitation spell on Harry, Draco guided his mate's body towards the garden entrance to the house. Touching the ward stone next to the small oak door, Draco winced as the house recognized him and asked directly if it was to admit his mate. Draco hated talking to the magical wards surrounding the house because they blasted through his mind's shields and sounded like an excited baby house elf. Replying as he had been taught by his parents, the house gave a feeling and high pitched squeak of recognition as the door opened when Draco touched the knob.

Quickly moving through the house, Draco turned to his set of rooms and guided the unconscious Harry to the bathing room. Setting Harry down gently beside the bath, Draco set the bath water to run. Leaving Harry briefly, Draco ran to his parent's rooms and grabbed several vials out of his father's private potion collection and then returned to his mate. Whispering a few spells, Draco choked at the sight of his mate's unclothed body as the desire to touch and caress nearly overwhelmed him before he told himself that his mate wasn't interested in that sort of attention. Setting the vials within easy reach of the tub, Draco debated what he should do first. Deciding on getting Harry clean, he shut off the water. Biting his lip, Draco stripped down to his boxers, throwing his robes carelessly to the ground. Lifting Harry, he stepped into the deep tub, the water swirling pleasantly and soothingly around his frame.

Seating Harry on the built in bench, Draco grabbed a towel and set it against the edge that Harry's head was resting upon. Hands trembling slightly, Draco soaped up a washcloth using a special soap from one of the vials and began to clean Harry's face. The lightning bolt scar was still seeping blood and the skin surrounding was an angry red and very warm to Draco's touch. Wincing slightly, Draco tentatively cleaned around the area hoping that he was not causing additional pain. After all the blood was gone, Draco washed all traces of vomit from the remainder of Harry's face.

Moving on to the rest of Harry's body, Draco was worried by the small whimper that passed Harry's lips when he began cleaning the skin tears that had been caused by the chains. Grabbing another vial, Draco tilted Harry's head further back and slipped a small amount of the liquid into Harry's mouth while rubbing his throat to encourage swallowing. Seeing Harry swallow the pain numbing potion successfully, Draco continued until Harry had drank half the vial and two healing potions before returning to washing the cuts.

Harry made no more sounds as Draco finished washing. Hitting the drain release, Draco gathered the slender body in his arms and lifted Harry out of the tub then drying him carefully with a towel then wrapping each wrist and ankle with white gauze. Bringing Harry into his bedroom, Draco tucked Harry into bed.

Brushing his mate's wet hair with his fingers, Draco felt a few tears escape his eyes. What was he to do now? He had none of the potions here and he couldn't possibly leave his mate in this condition. His parents would probably be attempting to cover as much as possible and would not come near Dragon Stone Vale to prevent someone finding out its location. Draco could not depend upon being able to ask for help from them. He needed a plan to get Harry healed but he didn't know what he should do.

If Draco stayed around Harry, it would be three days or less before the effects of the potions would be gone. Even before then, Draco would start leaking magical energy and his veela powers would activate because of Harry's close proximity. Because his powers had been suppressed so long they would activate more quickly than a normal full blooded veela, meaning it would hit like a freight train derailed at top speed. Draco was in no way prepared to even attempt to control his full powers. Last summer when he had stopped taking the potions it had taken four days for the effects to vanish from the onset of the warning signs. Before taking the potions again, Draco had managed to completely destroy his room after one of his bad flashbacks. Of course, bonding would ground his powers in Harry, allowing for an outside source of control if Draco couldn't handle it. However, given his past behavior to his mate, Draco's thoughts on Harry's reaction to even the suggestion of bonding would be less than ideal. Draco was very, very worried.

His parents and he hadn't even allowed for the suggestion that Draco would be potionless and around Harry until after Voldemort was permanently gone—they had not had any even close calls until a year ago when Draco had come fully into his inheritance and some adjustments in the potions had been made. This was going to complicate all current activities of the family. Draco wanted desperately to bind himself to Harry, but his Malfoy training was nagging that this would make things much more dangerous for Harry, not to mention Harry was likely to not be amenable to the idea. His human and veela sides were arguing viciously inside him.

Deciding that being in such close proximity would probably not be conducive to thinking; Draco reluctantly withdrew from his bedchamber and Harry. Standing outside in the hallway, boxers still dripping, Draco was having a hard time not throwing the doors back open and rushing back to Harry's bedside. It took a tremendous amount of willpower for Draco to turn and head back to the bath, but eventually he did.

Realizing that all his clothes were in the wardrobe in his room, Draco went back to his parents rooms and borrowed a lounging robe of his father's. It was only a little bit long and semi tight through the shoulders but it fit alright, the black silk matching his mood and contrasting with his ivory skin and silver blonde hair.

Discarding his wet boxers, Draco began to wander the halls and grounds of the vale, staying away from the wing in which Harry was sleeping. Eventually Draco fell into an exhausted sleep in the north wall rose garden next to the fish pond, having decided nothing.

The morning sun woke Harry early the next morning. Disoriented and sleepy, Harry searched with one arm for his glasses. It wasn't until his hand encountered only silky cloth that Harry realized he wasn't in his bed at Hogwarts or in the infirmary. Sitting up, Harry cursed slightly as he looked around at the blurry world and remembering some of what had happened the night before. Or at least what he hoped was only last night and he hadn't missed more than a couple of hours.

It really was pathetic how bad his eyesight was and he had always insisted on wearing glasses up until now. He was regretting that decision now, but was glad Hermione had badgered him into learning the spell to fix eyesight. Now where was his wand?

Fumbling his way to the edge of the bed, Harry groped around the bedside table, unable to find his wand. Grumbling to himself, Harry tried to remember how to do the charm wandlessly. He vaguely remembered Snape saying something during his occlumency lessons about how to do wandless magic. Coming to the conclusion that trying couldn't hurt him, Harry made the same movements with his hand as he normally would if he was holding his wand while concentrating like he usually would and mumbling the incantation "lux lucis sartum."

Miraculously, the spell seemed to work and the world around Harry began to sharpen and focus. Harry lifted his hands to rub his eyes as they began to madly itch for a split second then the sensation stopped and he dropped his hands to his side.

Harry was in an oversized canopy bed set in the middle of the biggest bedroom he'd ever seen. Draping the coverlet around his shoulders to ward off the slight chill, Harry hopped out of bed to explore where he was. The whole room was done in ebony and emerald with traces of gold. The bed itself was some sort of silk like material in ebony with dark emerald colored ties to hold the curtains back. Inside the bed on the canopy was an emerald colored dragon stretched out in flight on a star filled background, its wings flapping noiselessly. The floor was covered by a thick black rug, with emerald and gold tiling evident at the edges of the room. A small sitting area of two armchairs and a couch was pushed to the left side by the floor-to-ceiling-windows. On the right was a massive fireplace that easily was twice as long as Harry was tall with a carved ebony mantle piece depicting several dragons with their limbs intertwined. Upon closer inspection, Harry couldn't tell if the dragons were fighting or not, the whole mantle really seemed almost sexual—which disturbed Harry very much. Wall space that wasn't windows were covered with tapestries depicting dragons, most of which were emerald or silver on a black background with a continued sexuality theme as they rubbed their necks and other various body parts together. On the wall opposite the bed there was two doorways, both of which were closed. Between the two doors was what Harry guessed as an old fashioned wardrobe.

Uncomfortably naked under the coverlet, Harry wrenched open the door to the wardrobe and looked inside hoping for at least a pair of trousers. Instead of what a wardrobe normally looked like, the wardrobe seemed to serve as a never ending type of closet. Stepping hesitantly inside the wardrobe, careful not to close the door behind him, Harry began pulling several large drawers to his immediate right open. The first two drawers contained handkerchiefs, but the third one contained a variety of silk colored boxers and several other types that Harry didn't examine too closely in his relief to see boxers in what he hoped would be his size.

Taking out the first pair of boxers his hands encountered Harry held them out. They looked like they would fit reasonably well, so Harry let the coverlet drop and stepped into the black boxers. Unused to the feel of silk, Harry squirmed slightly at the odd sensation. The boxers were a little long in the leg but a little snug around the waist. Turning around, Harry wrinkled his nose at the formal robes hanging on the other side of the closet. Each robe was made in a style unfamiliar to Harry. Picking out one of several black robes, Harry put his arms in the sleeves and tried unsuccessfully to fasten the complicated ties. After several tries, Harry gave up and tied a loose belt around his waist using two of the handkerchiefs from the drawers. The clothes definitely hadn't been tailored to Harry, there was quite a bit of shoulder room and chest. The clothes seemed to hang off his upper body and the waist was lower than his hips, several inches of cloth dragged on the floor around him as he moved. The clothes had been made to fit someone who was taller and a bit slimmer than Harry. Investigating a shoe rack, all the shoes were too big, so Harry stepped out of the wardrobe shoeless.

'Just where the hell am I?' Harry thought, exiting the wardrobe. No one had entered the bedroom since he had left to explore the wardrobe. Looking around the room one last time, Harry became even more confused. He was in someone's home, someone who was probably fairly well off if all the rooms were like this—and Harry assumed the place was big judging by the size of the current room. Turning to look at the two doors, Harry tried the left door.

The left door led to a large bathing area, complete with a tub that would rival the one in the prefects' bathroom and a separate shower, toilet, and two sinks set into a counter on one side. Mirrors seemed to be the theme in the room with the gold and emerald tiling continuing into the room from the bedroom. Pausing briefly to use the toilet, Harry was surprised to find himself not in need of a bath. Whoever had bandaged his wrists and ankles had also scrubbed him from head to toe.

Feeling slightly violated, Harry left the room hastily after he washed his hands. The other door opened to a long, tapestry-lined hallway. Padding silently down the hallway, Harry searched his surroundings for someone, anyone who could tell him where he was. Several hallways branched off from the hallway Harry was following as the hallway twisted left. Finally, Harry reached a y-shaped intersection with a staircase in the middle of the y going up and down. Remembering the location of the bedroom, Harry decided on going down the stairs. Three flights down, Harry ran out of stairs. In an open, reception-style foyer that resembled the Hogwarts main courtyard in size, Harry started to worry. He hadn't encountered anyone yet.

Just as he was about to panic, he smelled food coming from an open archway to his far left. Mouth watering at the smell of what he thought was bacon and eggs, Harry scrambled for the archway. The archway led to a short hall with a dining room at the other end. The massive dining table was set for two breakfasts at one end, but could easily have seated at least thirty people. A side bar held a variety of breakfast foods, still steaming hot.

Not worried about where he was anymore, Harry grabbed the first plate he came to and began loading it up. Plate full of sausage and omelet, Harry ate slowly looking more closely at the room but finding nothing of real interest unless you were obsessed with more dragon murals. These murals however did not have the sexual connotations the ones in the bedroom seemed to have. The largest one that hung above the side bar depicted two dragons in flight, diving and climbing around each other playfully. A set of double French doors opened up to a patio of sorts with what Harry thought was a natural rock pool that was slightly obscured by decorative bushes and trees.

Harry was just about finished when he noticed something black and man-shaped walking among the further off trees. Relieved that he wasn't alone, Harry dropped his fork and rushed out towards where he had seen the movement.