A/N: Lots of reasons for the time it took to get this chapter out, but it's kinda long (for me, anyway).

I've been having fun with this one. I felt scandalous because I wrote most of this chapter (okay, all of it) at school.

Enjoy this first bit of real H/D action.

We passed the days together, doing what we pleased. We agreed that we didn't want to explore anything sexual until we had to—better to get acquainted before having sex of any kind. Plus, Harry admitted that he was afraid of getting pregnant. I told him that we didn't have to rush; if he didn't want to, then we wouldn't. It was that simple. There were other ways to get off, anyhow.

Most of our time was consumed with getting to know one another. We chatted about family and friends, and he told me about his life with the Dursleys. I was horrified and promised him that I wouldn't allow him to stay all summer with those horrid people, blood relations or not.

Harry spent most of his time down in my rooms. It was nice, actually, because it helped us to further the veela bond. He spent nights with me as well, for there was nobody left in his own house to tease him about it. Or, at least, all the boys from our year in his house were gone.

I accumulated quite a large amount of Harry's things down in my rooms: toothbrush, clothes, school books, and countless other assorted items. I didn't mind, of course, because it made me feel like the place was actually useful.

Finally, it got around to Christmas itself. I woke a bit before Harry, which gave me chance to make sure his presents were securely nestled under the tiny tree he and I had selected from out in the forest. I saw two unfamiliar parcels wrapped in red paper next to the ones for him that I'd wrapped in green paper and smiled. For me, I supposed.

I heard stirring from behind me and turned to see Harry pushing the blankets back and rubbing his eyes. He blinked blearily at me before grabbing his glasses from the bedside table and rolling out of bed, padding over wearing nothing but his pajama bottoms. I liked it and was happy to return the favor of being so casually dressed.

We smiled at one another, and I sat down slowly, cross-legged. "Happy Christmas, Harry."

"Happy Christmas, Draco," he replied, sitting with me. "Have a present," he replied, pushing a box wrapped in shiny red paper toward me. The first thing I noticed was that its ribbon was a…Gryffindor tie?

I reached out and picked it up, tugging gently on the tie. "What's this?"

"Your tie."

"My tie?"

"Yes. I'm giving you one of mine. I took one of yours, too." He blushed. "Sorry…it smelled like you. I couldn't resist."

"Why are you giving me this?"

"Because," he began, blushing a shade deeper, "I…I want people to know."

"Know what?"

"That…we're…y'know…together." Now he was beet red.

I smiled and leaned over, hugging him. "Thanks, Harry." I removed the tie from the package and tore off the paper to reveal…a box of condoms. I arched a questioning eyebrow at Harry, who blushed again.

"Just…you know…in case."

I smirked. "Looking out for yourself there?"

"Maybe," he admitted, smiling. "I got you an actual present too, but I thought that this would be, er, practical."

I nodded. "Thanks," I said, reaching over and giving his hand a squeeze. Then I passed a flat box to him. "Since we're opening joke gifts…"

He peeled back the paper and lifted the lid of the box to find a t-shirt—the one mum had sent me however long ago.

"Private property?" he said, half-laughing.

"Actually, mum bought it. She told me to give it to my sweetie." I laughed with him, until our sides hurt and we were falling over into one another.

"It's great. I love it, and I'll wear it," he said finally, when he'd recovered.

"Great," I said, grinning. We both took a few deep breaths, and I pushed a smaller box toward him. "This is your real present. Happy Christmas."

He carefully removed the paper this time, and slowly opened the little black box. He took out the silver chain, and peered at the charm sparkling in the light. He touched it. "It's cold," he said, surprised.

I smiled. "It should be. It's a snowflake…I charmed it so it won't melt. Remember how you said the snow reminds you of my eyes? Now you can remember it all the time. Er...remember me all the time."

He looked at it, letting the snowflake—about the size of a fingernail—catch the sunlight. "It's beautiful. Thank you." He fastened the chain around his neck, touching a finger to the snowflake with a smile. Then he held out a gift to me. "Happy Christmas."

I opened it and found myself facing another black box. I opened that as well, and looked down at a gold chain. I lifted it out of the box, and examined the pendant—a lightning bolt of emeralds in a golden fixture. "Are these…?"

"Emeralds? Yeah."

"Harry, that's really expensive…you didn't need to spend so much mon—"

"Oh, shut up, Draco. I'm no pauper; I can afford it. I have my parents' fortune to spend and nothing to spend it on. How better to use my money?"

I looked at it for a long while. "Lightning bolt," I said softly. "Like your scar." I put it on and looked up at him. "Thanks, Harry."

We smiled at one another, and then hugged. "I'm glad you're here, Draco. And I'm glad I'm your mate."

"So'm I, Harry. So am I."

Even though Christmas was over, we still had time to enjoy one another's company. Unfortunately, because we were so absorbed with each other, I forgot entirely about my peak—which had the grace to come late in the day on December thirty-first.

Harry and I had slept through lunch the day before, languishing in each other, so we were awake all night and had breakfast together. We returned to my rooms and went back to bed, sleeping through lunch and dinner.

That's when it hit me; then the pain woke me after the sunset, and I let my hand drift down, caressing myself and moaning softly. Harry stirred beside me and I stilled. He snuggled against my bare side and I swallowed—hard. It hurt too much to leave it be, but I was deathly afraid to carry on with him so close. I lay there in hormonal agony until I could bear it no longer and I thrust my hand down into my pajama bottoms, taking a firm grip on my cock and stroking myself. I bit my lip until it bled, and finally couldn't hold in my own sexual noises. I moaned—loudly.

Harry yawned; I was so consumed, though, that I didn't notice. He stretched next to me, and I arched my back, bucking my hips into my hand, my toes curling beneath the sheets. He blushed, but I didn't realize he was awake until he edged away from me. I slowed my hand to a stop, both of us blushing. "D-don't let me interrupt," Harry stammered, sitting up and swinging his legs down onto the floor, his back facing me.

I slowly removed my hand from my pants. "Sorry," I muttered, ignoring the pain.

"N-no! You don't have to stop just because of me!" he cried, tugging gently on the snowflake hanging around his neck. It had already become one of his nervous habits.

I scooted across the bed, rubbing his shoulder with my clean hand. He turned his head slightly, looking at my hand before covering it with him own. We didn't say anything for a while, then I broke the silence, taking my hand away. "It wouldn't help anyway." There was a pause, then I said, "Do you remember what I said about my…my…peak?"

"Yes…you said it…oh. I thought…"

"Go on."

"It takes a…potential carrier," he blushed, "to make the…pain go away." He looked down, tugging on his necklace again.

"What did you think? That I was just…?" He nodded and bit his lip. I watched him, and touched his shoulder again with the tips of my fingers. "I'm sorry to move us this fast, but…I wouldn't want to cheat on you just because of my hormones."

He sighed and turned to look at me. "If I do this, what will you do for me?"

I considered. "Anything."

He arched an eyebrow. "Anything?"

"Anything," I repeated.

"Alright…." He paused, looking around, obviously considering. I pushed the pain to the back of my mind. "We haven't been anywhere but breakfast and this bed for more than twenty-four hours. So…why don't you, er…." He blushed and paused again.

"Go on," I encouraged.

"Go get in the shower. I'll…I'll meet you there when I'm ready." He took a deep breath, tugging on his necklace. He was nervous, then. I leaned forward and kissed the spot where his neck joined his shoulder, stood, and went into the bathroom, starting the water for a shower. I listened to the hiss of the water hitting the tile floor, waited for it to warm up, and then removed my pajamas, stepping into the shower and just standing there for a moment, letting the heat relax my tense muscles. The steady drumming of the droplets on my back soothed me, and I was able to forget about my cock for a moment as I allowed my mind to get lost in the dampness of the shower's steam.

Soon the glass walls were fogged, and I reached for the soap, figuring I might as well make myself useful while I was in the shower. So I rubbed the bar between my hands and spread the lather across my arms and chest, waiting for Harry to join me.

This would be the first time we'd seen each other naked; although we'd slept together for the whole break, I'd only seen his chest, never his bare ass or his cock. It made my own stir, and I was aware once again of the pain it caused me. I scowled, soaping my chest, glaring down at my erection, which stood straight out from my body.

I ignored it as long as I could, managing to wash myself thoroughly before I couldn't help myself, and I gripped it with one soapy hand, closing my eyes and putting out my other hand, bracing myself against the shower wall. I threw my head back, the water drumming into me, my hand running up and down the length of my shaft.

I was so engrossed with myself that I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt another hand join mine; instead, I groaned and leaned back, right into Harry's chest. He wrapped his arm around my waist, caressing my cock as he let his head droop down onto my shoulder. I basically melted into him; the feeling of his hand on me was like cold fire—burning and freezing at the same time. It made my cheeks burn and my muscles freeze as I jerked my hips into his motions, feeling the sparks go off.

There was something special about this. It wasn't just any old hand job. No, it was so much more—I felt like I was dissolving into a wave of colors and emotions, melting like butter under Harry's heat. I knew it was something about the veela bond, but the blood wasn't flowing to my mind, so I didn't have time to contemplate it.

When I came, it was like an explosion. I spurted all over Harry's hand and the shower wall with a shout of his name, now falling even more heavily against him. He let the water rinse his hand clean and wrapped that arm around me, too, supporting me. I could feel his smile against my neck.

He took the soap in hand and began to re-wash me, ostensibly to get me "cleaned up" after that little incident, but I had a feeling he just wanted to keep his hands on me. Now that he'd touched my cock, he figured he had a right to touch everything else; that was fine by me. I let him wash me, and then I returned the favor. When we'd both finished getting clean, Harry hugged me again, smiling. "Happy New Year," he muttered.

I blinked and realized that he was right. It was midnight, and the clock was tolling it. "Happy New Year, Harry," I replied, and we shared a kiss under the pulse of the shower.

After we got out of the shower, we put on fresh pajamas and went down to the kitchen to snag some food. Harry somehow managed to get a hold of a bottle of champagne, and we went back to my room with me carrying a tray of snacks in each hand, and Harry carrying the champagne and two glasses. We toasted the New Year, each other, and our relationship—may it never fail. We ate our goodies over amusing New Year's Eve stories, and together we drank the whole bottle of champagne, both of us ending up a bit tipsy.

In the wee hours of the morning, just after my story about Uncle Darius and his Fantastic Falling Trousers, an owl tapped at my window. Harry opened it, and the owl came in carrying a letter that it dropped in my lap. Frowning slightly, I set down my champagne flute and read the letter.

Dear Draco,


It has come to my attention that there was an escape from Azkaban the other evening. It seems that several of your father's "colleagues" aided those incarcerated to break free. Your father is among the five or so that have gone missing from the prison. Please keep in mind the fact that you are no longer the man of the house, even though he will most likely be staying in a secure location rather than the Manor. I miss you—take good care of yourself. And Harry too.

Love,

Mum

I felt like I couldn't breathe. I looked up at Harry, who was giving me a puzzled expression. I handed him the letter in silence, and when he was done he stared at me. "Father's back," I said softly, and he nodded.

"He wouldn't like this, would he? I mean us."

I shook my head. "He wouldn't like it at all. We'd better take it easy." He agreed with me, and after a bit more discussion of the topic, we drained the last of the champagne and agreed to go to bed.

A/N: I hope you liked that shower scene...we'll see you in the next chapter.

Review! It makes my day, I promise.