ENTHRALL

By Yih

Unbeta'd

Chapter 6

Weekend Seduction

It was a Hogsmeade weekend, and Draco was planning to take advantage of it. Somehow, someway he was going to get Harry alone so that he might work his innate charms on the dark-headed beauty. Draco's shoulder tensed up when he thought of the word beauty, he didn't really think that about Harry Potter did he? The Boy Who Lived simply wasn't beautiful was he?

Oh but he was, his mind whispered sibilantly. Yes, Draco supposed Harry was in a way. His green eyes glittered like emeralds. His dark brown, appearing nearly black sometimes, hair was a bit on the messy side, but it looked shiny and soft to the touch. Though his mate was a bit on the thin side, he had slender well made bones. Nothing in his appearance indicated his coarse muggle heritage. Probably because his father came from such an old Pureblood line, the Potter family was nearly as old as the Malfoy one. Then again there were few families as pure as his, but it was a pity Harry was a half-blood or else he would make nearly the perfect mate.

Besides, Draco rather thought Harry's dark beauty complimented his own fair one. The Malfoy heir smirked at his reflection in the mirror and struck a pose that had the mirror saying: Lovely dear, absolutely exquisite. Aren't you simply the most beautiful boy in Slytherin? Of course he was and he didn't need a mirror to confirm it. Though, it was nice to hear the words, even though he knew it.

Now what robes to wear for the occasion? Nothing too fancy, but he was definitely going to try to put the initial mark on his mate. His inner veela was itching for some mark of possession. It had only been a week, but veelas were never known for their patience. Why else was there a thrall that would get their intended mate to go crazy with lust for them? It was a natural development because of a veela's impatience.

"Maybe the green?" he thought aloud. He stared at his deep green robes, a shade darker than his mate's own eyes. It would suit him well, but how would it look against whatever Harry chose to wear today? He didn't want to outdo his mate, but compliment him instead. Though, grimacing at the thought, he didn't even know why he would want to. It wasn't like they were bonded yet, and he was already this thoughtful.

Draco's stomach clenched with worry. He really did have to take his father's words into careful consideration. And he definitely would need to patch up what he'd done wrong two nights ago. He couldn't afford to have Harry love him less than him, it would be intolerable. Too bad he hadn't seriously thought about what his father had said before, after all his father would know since he had firsthand experience. But still, Draco hadn't thought he'd been a prick. He was treating Harry a hundred times better than Pansy. And didn't that count for something?

He sighed and supposed he could tone down his sarcasm. It might do him well to stop insulting Harry's stupid friends. Draco guessed that Harry was far more loyal to his friends than Draco was to his own. Not that he really did have a friend in Slytherin. Crabbe and Goyle were more like his body guards and Pansy was a crushed nuisance. If there was anyone he could even consider a friend, it would probably be Blaise. But the two of them used each other far too much to be considered good friends.

Ah well, that was the way of the Slytherin, wasn't it?

-

"So what do you guys want to do first?" Harry asked. It seemed like an innocent question it seemed, but apparently not.

Ron looked at Harry, shooting him a gaze that said: You can't be seriously asking this question. It actually looked quite a bit like the expression on his mudblood girlfriend's face. Really, those two suited each other perfectly. Although, Draco still thought that Granger was much too smart for Weasel. But then being a mudblood, she had no sense of taste.

"Honeyduke's of course!" Ron exclaimed. "What else? Then we can munch on chocolates and browse around."

Of course, knowing the Weasel's limited brain capacity of course he thought that was a brilliant idea. Knowing him, he probably had the same thought every bloody Hogsmeade weekend. Draco wanted to sneer, but what was the point of wrinkling his beautiful face when no one was there to see it?

"Is all you can think about chocolate?" Hermione muttered. "Can you think with your brain for once instead of your stomach?"

"What's wrong with thinking with my stomach?" Ron inquired, as if it wasn't obvious. He was such a waste of air. He really did not have one good thing to say. Why was his mate even friends with this terrible excuse for a human being?

"Why the bookstore!" Hermione exclaimed.

Draco stifled a groan. Why was he not surprised with what she was saying? She was too horribly predictable, the insufferable mudblood. What in the world did Harry see in his friends? He supposed loyalty and being smarter than Crabbe and Goyle had to count for something. Looking at his two brain dead body guards, he saw that they were looking around for him. Somehow they managed to look like lost fat puppies, not too ugly but not especially cute.

"Don't you have enough books to read in the library?" Ron retorted. And this Draco did have to admit that the Weasel had a point. After all, the Hogwarts library was on of the best in the United Kingdom, though it couldn't compare to the Malfoy's personal library. But then few libraries could.

It was when he saw Harry looking directly at him that he felt a small amount of panic. He watched his mate's eyes carefully to see if he was really seeing him or not. Draco was using an obscuring spell his father had taught him this summer, a spell that would make people see him as whatever they wanted except who he was. It was a useful spell to use when spying on others, as long as they weren't looking for him. If they were and they were a strong enough wizard, the spell didn't really work. But carefully observing Harry as he was, his eyes weren't really focused on him.

Instead, they were hazy as if Harry was observing something far away. It was actually kind of eerie. Draco had read that seers gifted with the sight often were described as having a far away look to them when they were seeing a vision. But Harry Potter a seer? Please. The only thing his mate had going for him was that he was good-looking, famous, and that he would be a Malfoy shortly. Draco smirked as he thought: Harry Malfoy has a nice ring to it.

Draco felt his heart skip a beat when he saw Harry fall to his knees, clutching his head while his friends were arguing back and forth and not even noticing that his mate was in trouble! What kind of worthless friends were they? Draco was about to end the obscuring spell when the mudblood abruptly snapped into action, ignoring her Weasel and dropping to her knees next to Harry.

"Harry," she cried, her arms wrapping around his mate, "are you okay?"

Whatever Harry said, Draco couldn't quite pick up. Next time, he observed bitingly, he needed an eavesdropping spell too. It was just he didn't quite know how the eavesdropping spell would react with the obscuring one. Some spells simply didn't mix well together. Sometimes, it was simply better not to risk whatever backlash there would be, even if he would miss parts of the conversations that were whispered about.

"Do you want to go back to Hogwarts?"

Damn it, Draco thinks, it would ruin his plan if Harry went back to Hogwarts. Well, a little. But it would be hard to snog Harry in a corridor when the younger years were running about, playing and generally having a good time according to them. When he was that young, he had thought it great fun to explore the castle. Now when he thought about it, he pitied the older years that hadn't been able to find a free space to engage in some romantic entanglements. However, he always had his Head Boy room, if he could lure Harry there.

"No, that's okay," Harry remarked. "I'm fine, really I am. I think I just need to sit down and if you'd help me up Ron?"

"Of course mate," Ron replied, holding his hand out to Harry and pulling him up to his feet again. Draco's inner veela definitely didn't like anyone calling Harry, mate, besides him. Draco wondered why his veela self was getting all possessive today, or actually yesterday too. It wasn't even like he'd really claimed Harry yet. Though the intentions certainly were there and his veela must be picking up on them.

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said, grinning at his best friends in a way that Draco wanted Harry to look at him.

"Don't mention it," Ron remarked, swinging his arm around Harry and the other around his girlfriend. "Let's go to The Three Broomsticks then and get you a butterbeer."

Draco had the distinct and unnerving feeling that even though Harry wasn't heading back to Hogwarts, his plans were not going to pan out as he expected them too. Despite that, he followed Harry to The Three Broomsticks, where he would have to make the best of a free moment when he got it. And like all Slytherins, he knew how to make his move. This time he would just have to be a bit more careful with his words and not seem sly. Sweet and earnest would be a plus if he could manage, but he thought being nice would do just fine.

-

Draco knew he didn't much patience. He had never been the type that could wait on anything. What he wanted he got, and since his wizard self had decided on Harry Potter as his mate, his veela wanted, his veela needed. It took far too long, and one too many butterbeers before Harry needed to use the bathroom. But when he did, Draco was ready, and he was there ready to end the obscuring spell as soon as his mate walked in.

"Hello Harry," he drawled, positioning his body to show off his beauty to its maximum potential. "Fancy running into you here."

Harry snorted, his cheeks pink from the slightly alcoholic beverage. "I doubt it's a coincidence. I saw you following us all day."

Seen him? How could Harry have? Draco did not think it was possible for Harry to have seen him, unless… when Harry had gotten that foggy look into his eyes he had possibly seen him? But then Draco hadn't thought that Harry was even looking at him, much less at anything. Then again, Draco really had no idea what it looked like to see someone under an obscuring charm. Was it possible that he had looked eerie? Or worse, had he looked bad?

"Oh really, did you see me now?" Draco murmured. "Did anyone else see me, or was it just your imagination maybe?" He moved closer to his mate, until he could almost smell him. If he was a true veela, he would have been able to smell his mate in a room crowded full of other less worthy wizards and such. But since he was not, all he had was the thrall, and one that was not quite as powerful as he would like—especially since Harry had shown resistance. "Or maybe it was because you secretively yearned for me?"

"I saw you," Harry stated resolutely. "What do you want?"

Draco noticed that Harry didn't pull away, though Harry didn't seem all too happy with how close he was getting. A pity because Draco was planning on getting a lot closer, closer enough to touch and do all sort of things that would make his veela a very happy veela. "I want you," Draco said softly. "Why else would a veela seek out his mate? It is a want; it is a need; it is a disease."

"But what if I don't want you?" Harry asked, his green eyes staring into his silver ones.

The words cut into Draco like a sharp knife, and he decided to show his pain. It was normally against everything his father had taught him, to show vulnerability and the like, but this time Draco knew it would only benefit him. Harry was too much of a Gryffindor to be cruel. And his words were unnecessarily harsh. So Draco let his veela self out, let his veela take more control of his emotions. His eyes filled with tears and he shuddered uncontrollably and he reached out to his mate, clutching Harry's upper arms desperately.

"You don't mean that, do you?" Draco cried out. "You don't understand, do you? Even if you don't love me, I will love you regardless of if we bond or not until the end of days. I will be miserable, but I will not die. Think about living a life that holds no meaning, to be a vapid thing with no purpose. That is what a veela is like when their mate rejects them." Draco blinked and a tear fell down his cheek. "And a mate has not rejected a veela in over a hundred years, Harry. Would you be the first?"

When Draco looked carefully at Harry, he saw the hesitation and knew he had won. But he was careful to keep the hurt in his face still there, careful to keep his eyes wet with unshed tears, and careful to keep manipulating his mate's emotions in just the way he wanted. A willing Harry would be far easier to control than one that was unwilling. And besides, the more Harry believed, the easier it would be when Draco set out to make Harry fall in love with him.

"Harry," he murmured, "will you be the first in over a hundred years to say no?"

Harry opened his mouth, shut it, and opened it again and said softly, "No."

Draco blinked away the last of his annoying tears and smiled in a way that he knew made him look like an angel. He then turned on his thrall as strongly as he good as he bent his head down to kiss Harry's. "I want you," he whispered. "Please let me kiss you."

Harry did not turn his face away, and Draco's lips met him in a kiss designed to seduce and to melt all resistance away. His tongue played against Harry's with the skill of an expert. And his lips devoured Harry with a sense of possession. In his mind, Draco chanted: You are mine, Harry. You belong to me. And you will always belong to me.

And it did not hurt that kissing Harry felt so right. Draco could feel his inner veela rising, plunging desire into his veins, and his blood draining to his groin. He didn't have an idea how much time had passed, but enough that his trousers were feeling quite tight, and that his mate was also aroused. Draco would like nothing more than to strip Harry of his clothes now and take him, but the thought of doing it in a public bathroom, even one as clean as this one was, was a turn off.

Instead, somehow Draco managed to lift his head from Harry's even though Harry was clutching him desperately, as if he wanted nothing more than to do it right then and there. Draco smiled and gave in to one small desire. He bent his head down and latched his mouth onto the side of Harry's throat. The part where the shirt parted and left his pale, beautiful skin there for the marking, and the claiming.

Draco sucked hard, wanting his mark of ownership on Harry and he could feel Harry's hips thrusting against him. Inwardly, he smiled and he used his teeth to nibble on the flesh, causing the skin to turn a blood red. Soothingly, he licked the crimson skin with his tongue and then withdrew his lips. He toned down his thrall and rested his forehead against his mate's.

"We are meant to be," he whispered, cradling Harry gently. It felt odd for him to be tender with anyone, and even though he had set out to seduce—even he hadn't know he had this inside of him. "You are mine, do you understand?"

Yes Harry hissed.

If anything, Draco got even harder hearing Harry speak in parseltongue. With keen amusement, Draco thought, all Harry had to do was say nonsensical things in that language and he would probably cream in his trousers without too much physical stimulation. "English please," Draco requested. "Answer me this: are you mine?"

Harry's bright, passion filled eyes met his. "I'm yours."

Draco didn't know if it was the mild thrall that was doing the talking for Harry, or if it really was Harry who was saying this. Draco still wasn't sure how much control the thrall had over Harry, especially since his mate had proven resistant to it before. Though, it was interesting to note that Harry seemed a lot less able to fight it when Draco approached in a more amiable manner. Using manipulation and seduction as the forefront assault and the thrall as an aid rather than the weapon.

Not that it really mattered to Draco. If it was Harry or if it wasn't really Harry, having Harry say them made his veela self very happy. Draco could feel a warmth in his body—a contentedness. Though it had a good deal to do with the claiming mark, Draco also knew a good portion was that Harry had acknowledged him as his veela.

"Yes," Draco whispered, "you are definitely mine."

-

Author's Note: I haven't updated for almost two months. I'm not really sure how long this muse will last, but as always reviewing helps. I know this chapter was short (shorter than the rest), but at least something happened in this eh? Draco's gotten a lot better at being a potential lover than a master, and that's what he's going to have to do to get Harry to fall for him. And already Draco's starting to fall for him. Draco better hope that Harry falls for him more than Draco is falling for Harry. And isn't possessive Draco cute? Harry's POV is next.

Feel free to feed the dead muse. (sometimes it lives again).