ENTHRALL
By Yih
Beta: SeparatriX (thanks to her this chapter is about as good grammar and word construction wise as it's probably gonna get!)
POV Note: Back to Harry's.
Chapter 3
Under the Thrall
"Your secret admirer is certainly keeping busy," Hermione remarked.
Hedwig dropped a single red rose tied to a scroll in front of Harry. He grabbed it without thinking; it was one of his seeker reflexes that Ron kept telling him was going to get him on one of the professional teams after he left Hogwarts. As much as he enjoyed Quidditch, he didn't really want to spend his life playing it. Being an Auror would have been all right, but thankfully Daphne had found him and was determined to make a seer out of him.
"So what does it say?" Ron pestered.
He hadn't even opened it yet. Sometimes, it was aggravating how annoying Ron could be. But Harry reminded himself that Ron was a good friend, no a great friend. And yet there were times when Ron could be such a prat, and like Hermione was always saying: Why is Ron such a prat in the mornings?
"Hold up," Harry mumbled.
Obligingly, he held up an owl treat that he had in his pocket to Hedwig and she hooted appreciatively. She rubbed her beak against his knuckle affectionately before she flew back to the owlery. Turning his attention back to the scroll, he pulled the rose free from it and smelled its sweet scent. He ignored Ron's gargling urgings for speed. It was his owl after all; he would read it at his leisure.
He opened the parchment and the first thing that caught his attention was the elegant hand. Whoever had written this had bloody good penmanship, Harry thought. And finally, the mystery person was ready to stop being a secret. Harry started down at the letter for a long time, even though he could hear Ron nagging him about the owl and Hermione telling him to let Harry be.
"Earth to Harry!"
Ron was being himself. It was his nature to be a pest in the mornings. "My secret admirer wants to meet me," Harry reluctantly admitted, bracing himself for the reaction that he knew was forthcoming.
"What?!" Harry had a hard time telling if the exclamation was coming more from Ron or Hermione, both of them had said it almost simultaneously.
There was nothing to do but hand them the parchment. They both pulled it between them and read the words that were on constant repeat in Harry's head: It's time we met, you and I. Tonight, midnightAstronomyTower
Neville would be pleased. He'd always said from the beginning that Harry Potter's admirer was a Hogwarts student.
-
Harry had always liked Professor Flitwick. The diminutive Professor had a charisma that far surpassed his stature. There was something about the way he was that so alive and fascinating. It wasn't for any reason that the NEWT-level Charms class was by far the largest, large enough that Harry was sitting on the floor because he'd gotten there late and all the desks had been taken.
It was just as well, he was near the back of the room and away from Flitwick's notice. He was too distracted by the owl he'd received this morning to really concentrate on anything. Snape had already verbally assaulted his person. He'd deserved almost every word. He'd been a miserably clumsy sod today. At least it'd given Snape a good excuse to give him detention for the remainder of this week and all of next.
All his detentions were a decent cover-up for the extra studies he'd been doing in the evenings with Daphne and Snape. Daphne had certainly surprised Dumbledore in telling him point blank that Harry was a natural seer, but she didn't want others to know. He'd only told Ron and Hermione. Of course, the teachers knew, and Harry guessed that Voldemort also knew.
"Harry!" Hermione hissed. He snapped his head toward her and saw an alarmed expression on her face. "Duck!"
He didn't question her; he ducked. He felt something very hard and quite large sailing over his head. He heard it smash against the wall and then fall to the ground. He turned his head and saw that it'd been a thick tome. Confused momentarily, he then vaguely recalled hearing Flitwick lecturing about theoretical merits of being directionally specific when using the Throwing Charm. Otherwise, it would just sort throw itself anywhere.
"I'm sorry, Harry!"
Harry nodded, recognizing the voice of Terry Boot. "It's all right."
"And that is why," Flitwick remarked, his usually merry eyes studying Harry curiously, "you want to be directionally specific when you cast that particular charm." Harry knew it was because it was odd for him not to be paying attention in class, especially in this class, the class he excelled at. "So would anyone like to tell me why you should be person specific when you're using the Summoning Charm?"
Hermione's hand shot up like always, but several other 7th year Ravenclaws weren't far behind.
-
He wasn't seeing shit in the water. It was a pity; he was best at scrying with water or a mirror. While he wasn't terrible with tea leaves, certainly better than Sibyl Trelawney, it didn't mean that was his particular medium. He did best with objects that offered depths, Daphne told him, it was harder to see visions in them but the payoff was far greater if one could see true with them. He could, but not today.
"You aren't concentrating," Daphne snapped. "Where's your mind today, Harry?"
On other things, he thought glumly. "Sorry."
"This is a waste of my time," she muttered. "I didn't come to Hogwarts to instruct you only to have you not pay attention to me. I thought I had it from your own lips," she pressed her fingers his mouth, "that you would try harder for me than anyone else you'd ever tried for if I agreed to be your guide."
He had sworn he would give her everything she required. Hermione hadn't needed to impress upon him too hard what an honor Daphne Aureole was bestowing upon him by being his guide. He might be famous for an accident of circumstance, but she was famous for her own abilities. She only guided the best, and it was flattering for once to be considered for his merit.
"You're dismissed. I don't want to see you again until you're ready to focus. Do you understand me?" Daphne's voice was reproachful and had a hard edge to it as she stared down at him like a hawk that had spotted her prey.
"I understand," Harry responded softly. "I'll be ready for next time."
She cupped his chin and tilted his face upward until her old silver eyes could bear down into his. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
She nodded and traced the sign of the seer against his forehead. "I would be on guard, Harry. What you're about to face cannot be changed, but if you're wise you'll make the best of it."
"You did a reading on me?"
"I did." She smiled faintly. "You can't, can you? The curse of a seer, you're never able to see what involves one's self. Be wary and be wise, Harry."
He pressed a kiss into her wrinkled hand. "I'll try."
-
He was purposely early, but not early enough. There was already someone standing there, waiting. All he saw was a black robe clad back, so not only could he not distinguish gender--- he couldn't figure out the House either. He was almost tempted to turn away and walk out. If he didn't know the identity of his secret admirer, then the person would always maintain a surreal quality. He didn't leave though. That wouldn't be very noble or brave of him. As Slytherin as the hat might have thought him, he was still a Gryffindor too.
"It's usually polite to announce one's presence," the robed figured drawled.
Harry knew that voice. It couldn't be… but it was. Draco Malfoy. Once he saw the face, there was no denying that Malfoy was the owner of that voice. Was this a bloody joke? It was hard, terribly hard to keep his face schooled into one of indifference. What he wanted to do was betray his anger, his confusion, and his disappointment. Was this Malfoy's idea of a sick joke?
"Malfoy."
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think we're past the formalities of surnames?"
"What are you playing at?" Harry demanded.
"Do you think I'm playing with your heart?" Malfoy whispered. "What if I'm not?"
What if he wasn't? Harry narrowed his eyes and studied the expression on Malfoy's face, trying to tell if he was being sincere or not. Draco Malfoy was a master of manipulating his emotions, much like his father. Harry knew he was good at reading people, but that meant nothing when it came to Malfoy. He had nothing to go with but gut. His instincts were good most of the time, so what did his intuition say?
"I don't see why you wouldn't be." Harry refused to meet Malfoy's gaze.
"Is it hard to imagine someone changing? Growing up?" Malfoy lifted Harry's chin and forced him to look directly into his eyes.
Harry recoiled from his touch. No, it wasn't hard to imagine someone growing up. They were in the age of development, were they not? Once they got past the anger, the bitterness, and all that young rebelliousness, they had to grow up. But when Harry thought of Malfoy growing up, he didn't think in terms of him ever being civil to him. And this offering of the olive branch went far beyond mere politeness, Malfoy was insinuating he liked him, perhaps even wanted him.
"No," Harry murmured, "what is hard to imagine is that you would ever feel anything positive toward me."
There was something in Malfoy's silver eyes, something that Harry didn't recognize. "Is love really so different from hate?"
An uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of Harry's stomach, and something was telling him that he might want to run. But stupidly, his feet wouldn't move even when Malfoy came close, much too close. "Are you saying…" his tongue twisted over that preposterous word, and he felt foolish to even be saying it, "that you love me?"
Malfoy's lips tugged into a smile that was more beautiful than it should have been. Harry mentally recoiled at having a thought like that. When had he ever thought Malfoy was anything other than an aggravating git? He had no redeeming qualities whatsoever unlike Snape. At least Snape was trying to help him shield his mind from Voldemort; even if his method for doing so was invasive and unethical. What kindness had Malfoy ever shown?
The gifts? They were a lure, a trick, a lie.
"Hmmm…" Malfoy's hand reached out and Harry instinctively backed up until he hit the wall, "that is an interesting question for me to answer, is it not?" What was Malfoy playing at? It was time, past time to end this joke. "I think you'd like an answer, wouldn't you?" Harry was paralyzed as Malfoy's hand touched his cheek gently. It was the touch that stunned him more than Malfoy's answer: "Not yet, but one day I will."
Too many questions were running in Harry's head, racing in his pulse, and he was drowning in silver liquid. Malfoy's touch had started to burn. It was anything akin to pain, but it made Harry feel uncomfortable. He must be losing his mind. There was only one word to name this feeling he was experiencing. It was desire, and it wasn't mild. It was hot, and it had come in a rush. It was like he was under a compulsion that had nothing to do with him.
"What are you doing to me?" he asked hoarsely.
"What do you think I'm doing?" Malfoy purred.
He should have run when he had the chance. It was too late now. His mind was screaming for his body to move, but his muscles weren't cooperating. It was like he was underneath the Stupefy spell, but he'd not heard it cast. It wasn't like Malfoy was holding him against his will. He just couldn't move. And when he was finally able to move, it wasn't in the way he should have if he had any sanity in him.
This wasn't happening, he chanted, this wasn't happening. Malfoy hadn't just lowered his head. Malfoy hadn't just brushed his lips against Harry's with a softness that he didn't know Malfoy possessed. Malfoy hadn't just kissed him, had he? He wanted to deny what was undeniable. Malfoy was kissing him. His lips were on his, and his arms were around him. This was insanity.
Harry was responding, to his own surprise. It took a moment to register that when he did feel himself moving, it was to fit his body against Malfoy's and open his mouth in offering. He felt like he had no control, but he was doing this. There was no spell on him. Only part of him was protesting, but it was the part he felt loudest and the part he felt still made sense. But the rest of him was doing other things and evoking a feeling that this didn't feel wrong, it actually felt right.
He wasn't the one that ended the kiss, Malfoy was. Harry felt as though he had no self-control left. When the kiss broke, he didn't feel relieved as he should have been, but disappointed. It felt like the connection had been interrupted, and that was wrong, absolutely wrong. But why then did it feel so right?
"Harry…" His body tensed at the sound of Malfoy's voice. He'd been waiting for his moment, certain that Malfoy was going to tell him this was some sick joke and the rest of Slytherin House would pop from their hiding places to ridicule him. "Look at me." Harry didn't want to look. If he did, he would want to kiss Draco… Malfoy all over again if only to feel that sweet, sweet insanity once again. "Look at me."
He looked. No conscious thought, he just did it. He saw that Draco was beautiful.
"Do you know what I'm doing to you?"
Harry slowly shook his head. His thoughts were hazy; a small part of him was still telling him to run away, to get away from Draco. But the larger part of him was more interested in hearing what Draco had to say. It was like something had been unleashed inside of him that was taking over him, subduing him, overpowering him.
Draco smiled. It was predatory and lovely. "I'm seducing you, Harry."
"Why?" Harry rasped, fighting whatever urges that were telling him to jump Draco's bones.
"Because," Draco whispered, lowering his head so that the words breathed against his ear, "I can."
"No."
"You can't fight it, Harry," he murmured. "No matter how hard you try, it won't work. It's not like the Imperius Curse or anything of that nature. This has to do with hormones and fate. Don't you feel something strange overwhelming you?" He pressed his hand against Harry's heart, and took Harry's hand with his other hand, and laid it on his heart. Both were thumping rapidly, and Harry thought, in unison. "It's the thrall. But do you know why?"
"No."
"Do you want to know why?"
"Yes."
"I'm a veela, Harry, and you're my mate."
-
"How'd it go?" Ron asked.
Harry didn't want to talk about it. Draco hadn't told him much. But he had told him to keep it quiet. It would be out soon enough, and once it was there was going to be a wildfire reaction in the school and out of it. Harry was relieved Draco wasn't going to announce it throughout the school. At least, not yet. It gave him time to think and to plan what he would say to Ron and Hermione. They weren't going to take this news well at all.
"No one was there."
Draco hadn't told him to lie, but he couldn't very well say that he had met someone and was going to keep it to himself. He knew Ron, and Ron wouldn't take no for an answer. Ron would also never suspect him of lying. He was too noble, too much of an honorable Gryffindor to do that. It was what he was counting on. He didn't know if he could lie with any efficiency.
"The sod didn't show up?!" Ron sounded outraged.
Harry had wished that were the case. Oh yes, the kiss was amazing. But he didn't like the feeling that Draco pulled out from him, what Draco made him feel. He could do without feeling helpless and out of control. He was still hoping that with some mad researching in the library, that he could find out more about veelas and their mates. And when he did, he could shove the evidence that said that it couldn't be true. The concept they were fated for each other. It was ludicrous. Shouldn't a veela's mate be a veela?
"No."
"That's horrible! To make you go to the Astronomy Tower like that and risk the chance of getting caught by Filch or worse, Snape! What a disrespecting, terrible thing to do!"
Even though Ron didn't know who it was, there was already dislike coloring his tone. Harry didn't want that, despite the fact that it was Draco Malfoy. "The person left a note."
"If she was could bother to leave a note, she should have been there!" Why did Ron always think it was a girl? Oh, yes, that's right; Ron was dating a girl so he assumed everyone had to be as straight as he was. Harry had never really thought about his sexual orientation, and it probably didn't matter to him if it was a boy or a girl. What bothered him was the identity not the gender.
"Maybe they lost their nerve at the last minute."
"That still doesn't excuse it. You were asked, and you went. If you could be there, than she could have been there!"
"The note was nice and apologetic. Something came up."
"Harry," Ron's voice was disgusted, "you are too nice."
No, he wasn't. He was lying to his best friend. That wasn't nice. "I guess."
"I wish you'd stop all this modesty shit."
He really didn't want to deal with a conversation that headed toward the direction Ron was pointing to. It was only going to lead into a discussion that would get them both riled up. He didn't want to end this night, after all that had already happened, on a bad note. Too many things had already gone wrong. Like he should have run when he had the chance instead of standing there and letting Draco, Malfoy do what he'd done. He had the dreadful feeling that if he hadn't stood there, patiently waiting to hear Malfoy out, he wouldn't be in the circumstance he found himself in.
"Ron, I'm really tired."
He sensed Ron's frustration. "Harry…"
"Ron, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."
He never got a lot of sleep, and he still somehow managed to function. He'd been getting more sleep since he'd learned about the visions that he thought were nightmares. It was too bad the Occlumencyhe'd learned from Snape didn't really help. As a natural seer, he couldn't stop them from happening. All he could stop were the few things he might see from the connection he shared with Voldemort through his scar. But those were rare, and getting frequently rarer. He used to feel pain whenever Voldemort was particularly angry. That hadn't happened in a long time. He didn't really know why. Maybe Voldemort was blocking him or maybe he wasn't torturing as many people.
"All right," Ron responded through gritted teeth. "Get some sleep then."
Ron could have pushed the issue, and Harry was grateful that he hadn't. "Thanks, Ron."
He heard his friend sigh. "Don't mention it, Harry."
Ron was a good friend, and Harry was a liar. He buried his head into his pillow and groaned. Why did weird things have to happen to him? If only he hadn't gone to meet Draco, no he meant Malfoy. Weird didn't even begin to describe what had occurred.
Him as Malfoy's mate? Surely the world had gone insane.
Author's Note: So what did you think of the thrall? I know someone mentioned that it seems like "rape," but the thrall isn't really a mind control mechanism as much as it's something that makes someone want you so badly that they can't help but act on that want. Draco's theories and thoughts about the "thrall," which is obviously in the next chapter when we switched back to his POV. And how do you like Harry's reaction to this? Pretty calm so far huh? Thanks for reading and please, pretty please, review and make my muse happy?
Thanks to Skull Bearer, Niathal, TigerBlak (I think Draco's going on "Harry Hunting" mode soon), Star puff, violet7amethyst (Eventually yes, and Harry doesn't like snakes… the promise bracelet was a gift from Draco), Selune, MishapsErrors, angel (I'll try not to make him dense and stupid), riantlykalopsic (perhaps, you'll find out, and read and see!), Rippa, Perona (thanks for the compliment), dis, starlollie, Lo26 (thanks for the offer to beta, but SeparatriX got there first), SheWolfe7, lloneke, Mosrael (not quite the opposite, but to a degree yes), Emily22, kamui5, GentleWaterSoul, SeparatriX (thanks, my beta), bri, Mon2 (Draco's gonna get it? Draco wants to preserve himself and who knows what Voldie wants w/ Harry?), hyperactivatoragain, meamz02, Yana5, PeachDancer82, tinkita, Makalani Astral, sak (a wizard veela might choose, but it's a permanent choice ), Naia (I also like that the title hasn't been used in the thousands of HP stories on Snape will play a part.), Wufei Winner, meninaiscrazy, Shadowface. Ash (veelas need their mate, 'nuff said), Malfoy Snogger (Draco is simply Draco, and he wasn't actually as rude as he could have been), Angel Lain, deliolith, angelkitty77, Minathia, athenakitty (Don't know twice over), Kage Mirai.
TBC (as soon as you click "go" and feed the muse)