Written by: Blissful Darkness
Rated: R
Disclaimer: I highly doubt that JKR would be eating Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs whilst her dad unloads the dishwasher. And I doubt she would be replying to neomails on neopets, and checking her email account for new reviews for her fanfiction. So, obviously, I am not JKR. My hair's prettier! XD
Author's note: Eighth installment! I'm sorry to those of you who could not review the last chapter. But hey! I got a whole bunch of new reviewers, so I'm good:) Let's just hope those reviewers will stick around. Just remember, if you review then Draco and Harry will reply to some of your reviews and thanking you if they did not reply to your review. But alas, today there will be no replies or thanking. I am typing in the middle of the night, and I really can't open my email to do this. Sorry, I hope this won't happen again! Please review as usual!
"Blah" –speaking
Blah –thinking/emphasized word/text from a book/letter
"Blah" –parseltongue
Blah blah blah blah blah. – flashback/dream
Gather round kiddies. It's story time!
Less Talking More KissingHis breath suddenly left him as Draco stared into monstrous golden eyes. He did not move once as the beast's nostrils flared. A test. Deep rumbling from the reptilian monster's throat made Draco's heart race as the dragon spread its golden wings. Pansy and Blaise had bowed down on one knee, but Draco had not. He bowed to nothing. The blonde waited with baited breath, his eyes becoming dry from the effort of trying not to blink.
Finally, Draco blinked. And within the blink of an eye a man stood before him, golden eyes bearing into him. The man was obviously at least fifty years old in appearance, but he was beautiful. His silver-white hair was cut short and brushed back away from his angular face. The silver scales that adorned his body contrasted against the native tan of his skin. Gold and silver jewelry decorated his bare torso, which was firmly muscled despite his age. Just by looking at the shining metals and gems, Draco could tell that this Guardian of the Soul was the oldest of them all. He was the first, the ancient. Dressed in the traditional garb of a Guardian, the man held the presence of an immortal elder.
The man smiled, but his lips never moved from their solitary line. He held out his hand in greeting, Bringing Draco's attention to the fact that the skin of his hand held no lines engraved within them that every human is born with. Not a single crease in the skin, except for the fine crows feet that gentled his foreboding golden eyes.
Draco snapped out of his current daze, taking the proffered hand in his own. The skin was cool to the touch, which soon was replaced by a kind warmth that soothed the miniature bumps that arose on Draco's arms.
"Hello, Draco," the man said, his voice holding a wisdom that no one else could possess.
The blonde did not even question as to how the immortal knew his name. One came to expect the "wise people" to know your name even if they've never met you before. It seemed an instinct for the noble elders that were famous for being "all-knowing."
Draco remained silent until he remembered that Pansy and Blaise were still kneeling on the ground, their heads bowed in respect. He scowled, his gaze narrowing on the duo. "Get up, the both of you!" Draco ordered, annoyed with their submissive attitudes.
Blaise looked to his leader, his aquamarine eyes nervous with question. The Guardian slowly nodded his head once to display his assent, allowing both Pansy and Blaise to stand. Blaise immediately sent Draco a well-deserved glare for disrespecting the oldest of his heritage. Draco met the glare with cool, emotionless mercury pools.
"You know, it would have been nice if you had at least said hello," Blaise growled, swinging a lock of azure hair out of his vision.
"That's the problem. I'm not nice," Draco replied, an unsettling sneer curling his pale lips.
Pansy rolled her eyes and slapped the two men upside the head. "Shut up, the both of you. Blaise calm down. Draco, say hello," Pansy ordered, placing her hands on her hips, a telltale sign that the typical woman's heated anger was rising.
Draco sighed. "What's your name?" he asked, not a single tone of inquisitiveness in his voice.
"I am Zoltar de Nox. But you may call me Zoltar," the Guardian said, a miniature smile upon his lips.
"That's nice. Now can you tell me what I want to know? I didn't come here to stand around and chat," Draco replied with snide vocals, not once caring about whether this dragon-man would eventually kill him for his ignorance.
The older man nodded, briefly turning his attention towards the duo that had put Draco in this situation. "Blaise, your great-great-great-great-uncle is within the western caves. You may take Pansy with you," Zoltar said, his gaze steady upon the two.
Blaise nodded, knowing a dismissal when he heard one. The pair took a beaten path down the mountain, soon becoming a tiny speck in Draco's vision. Draco returned his gaze to the elder, his eyes blank of any expression.
"The book. It left out so many details. It didn't say what you eat, what your powers are, how you survived the ice age. Blaise told me you existed before the winter came," Draco said as Zoltar lead him down the mountain.
"Muggles nor wizards could know all about us. Vampires and werewolves are still feared and discriminated against. It would be far worse for us. Those creatures have the camouflage of a human body. We do not," Zoltar explained, walking slowly—silently beside Draco.
"But why? Centaurs are accepted," the blonde protested.
Zoltar shook his head, a sigh escaping him. "Yes, but centaurs do not have to drink unicorn blood. Human and animal blood can sustain us, but we cannot live on it. It is like a human. He cannot survive without food and water. When he has no food, the water satisfies his hunger. But soon the loss of energy and nutrients take the toll on his body. He dies. Such is the case of unicorn blood. Human food and blood will satisfy us, but the unicorn blood gives our bodies the proper nutrients to live," he explained.
They were nearing the mammoth opening of a huge cave, which held one family of the dragon. Zoltar's family.
"The unicorn blood curses us just as well as any other man. Tis the reason why they say that one whose soul is resurrected will suffer the consequences. A half-life, they call it. A life when no pleasure can be satisfied, no hunger calmed, the thirst eternally parched. That is until a Guardian finds his soul mate. The soul mate can pleasure the Guardian—satisfy him in all ways. A Guardian's life is then fulfilled."
"And what of the offspring of two Guardians?" Draco asked, coming to a halt at the entrance to the cave alongside Zoltar.
"They are fine until they reach the age of adulthood, which is sixteen. They do not require unicorn blood until that age, for they look human. All they need is normal food and drink," the Guardian explained.
Draco fell silent, mulling over this new information. He frowned, one of his other questions surfacing in his mind.
"How did you survive the ice age?" Draco asked, brows puckering in his confusion.
"Evolution. Since I am immortal, my body must adapt to my surroundings. Otherwise I would still look like a Cro-Magnon," Zoltar chuckled before continuing. "I took to the water, my wings shrunk, my legs became fins, and my tail became a propelling fin. Other dragons did the same as I. That is why there are sea serpents. When the ice age ended, I immerged and took to the jungles of Japan. My legs had returned, and my scales worked well as camouflage in the bamboo. Eventually I came here, to the mountains. Humans drove us away."
"Zoltar, you speak of humans driving us away, and yet you bring one here," came a ghosting voice of haunting melody.
A shiver passed down Draco's spine. A small fire sat in the middle of the cave, casting shadows. The presence of something huge came near, bringing a shadow. And from that monstrous shadow stepped forward a middle-aged woman, white streaks of old age striped her red autumn leaf hair. Her cinnamon brown eyes reflected in her wings. She was beauteous in her flowing white gown. The sheer fabric was cut in layers, the shortest piece falling to mid thigh. The dress did not cling to the body, so a gold material had been tied about the waist. Golden clasps bunched the material over her shoulders, which gently pronounced her swan neck. The woman held a demanding, powerful yet maternal presence, causing an instant sense of respect to flood Draco's mind.
"No, my love. The consort came in search of answers about his newborn mate. Am I correct?" the question was directed towards Draco, who nodded in affirmation.
"This is the second human who has found us. Maybe we should leave again. Humans draw nearer with each passing year," the woman said, worry tingeing her vocals.
"Calm, Thera. The child within your womb makes you restless. Harm will not come to us," Zoltar said, soothing his mate.
Draco frowned, returning his gaze to Zoltar's mate. The woman looked to be eight months pregnant. She will lay her egg soon he realized. The redhead rested her hand on the swell of her stomach, instinctively wrapping her wings around her front as she warily studied Draco.
I wonder if Harry will do that he thought, but then quickly abolished the thought as something awakened from its nap. (A/N: Lol. A subtle hint.)
"Draco, we have to go! Potter was caught in Hogsmeade!" Blaise yelled as he ran into the cave alongside Pansy.
Draco's eyes widened before returning his gaze to Zoltar. The older man nodded. "I will send my children with you. They will help you calm him," he said. "Driretlan! Inferna! Go with Draco to help Harry. Merlin knows he'll need it," Zoltar called.
Two figures flew into the cave. The female's body was completely covered with her fire red scales. Gold was embedded into her front torso, where the scales were not as strong. Her autumn red hair flowed free over her shoulders. Her golden wings were powerfully built to fit her small weight. She possessed the same aura as her mother, save for the maternal nature.
The male, also completely scaled, wore leather britches. His scales were a dust brown, as was his hair, which was spiked haphazardly. The hairstyle roughened his appearance, otherwise his cinnamon brown eyes made him look gentle—harmless. His cinnamon wings were much larger than his sister's, but only because he had the build of his father.
They stood together, waiting for Draco to apparate them. Draco walked to their side, sending a brief glance towards Pansy and Blaise. "Stay if you want, but I must leave." The duo merely blinked, confusion evident.
"Harry's in trouble."
Earlier:
Harry sat down at the table that Ron and Hermione had chosen. They had been there for hours, and the table was already littered with empty shot glasses and glass mugs. Hermione was two sheets to the wind as Ron whispered into her ear, making her explode into giggles every few seconds. It was amusing to see the two so drunk. They could not handle their liquor. Harry sipped his firewhiskey, aimlessly tuning the happy couple out only to pick up on another conversation.
"… I'd like to get my hands on him…"
"Yeah, Lucius always told us how perfect the brat was."
"Totally flawless, Lucius never did let him scar afterwards."
"What ever happened to him?"
"Disappeared after Potter killed the Dark Lord. We suspect the poor lad was crushed when his master was defeated. Haven't seen a single hair from that pretty blonde head since…"
Harry's black brows furrowed as he listened closer. Who were they talking about?
"Not so fast Brutus, he was spotted leaving Mungo's. Supposedly he looked torn apart, angry. Clutching his arm. I say he tried to kill Potter but he was almost caught."
"But Potter awakened this morning. That Skeeter woman wrote about his disappearance from his bed."
"Do I look like I care? All I know is Malfoy's still out there."
"No, he's not a Malfoy anymore. Lucius disowned him before he was killed by some idiot from the light…"
They're talking about Draco he thought as he turned his gaze towards the men."I'd like to mark up that body. Leave a few bruises. Too bad his father took him before anyone else could. Would have been great to take his innocence."
"Yeah right. Draco Malfoy innocent? That's a laugh. Everyone knows he was the Dark Lord's bitch."
"Yeah and now that he's gone, Draco's for the taking."
Furious heat had built within Harry with each passing word. They were talking about Draco. His Draco. A growl was barely controlled as he stood.
"Hey, mate! Where are you going?" Ron called.
Harry ignored Ron, seeing red as the ex-death eaters continued to talk about his mate. He came closer, a feral gleam in his eyes.
"Bet he's got a nice set of lungs. The skinny blondes always do."
"Yeah, and he'll have strong legs from all that quidditch from school."
"Worthy fuck."
Harry hissed and pounced on the man who spoke last, baring his fangs. His emerald eyes glowed with fury as black claws replaced his nails, digging into the skin of the man's shoulders. All human thought escaped Harry as his emerald wings expanded to their full wingspan, tearing apart his robe and shirt. His black scales spread across his skin in defense, covering every square inch. His eyes became something akin to snake eyes. He hissed once more, grabbing the man's throat.
"You will not TOUCH Draco," he hissed, clenching his grip so that his claws sheeting themselves in the man's neck.
The man struggled in vain, pinned to the ground despite Harry's lightweight. Three men, unknown to Harry, crept forward and grabbed Harry by the biceps. Harry growled and swiped at one of the men, leaving four deep cuts. One of the cuts actually displayed bone. The rest of the deatheaters leapt on him, forcing him against the wall. He yelped as his back hit an edge in the stone wall. The point did not penetrate the thickest scales on his back, but it didn't mean that it didn't hurt like hell.
"He is MY mate," Harry hissed, struggling against his captors.
One of the men chuckled, a hungry gleam in his eyes. "What? You are fighting a battle that you already lost."
"NO! He's mine, and you'll never have him!" Harry yelled, lashing out once more, cutting the man from his brow to his jaw.
Harry, doing anything to free himself, spread his wings, sending about four men across the room. He knocked off the other two and fled, running out of the Three Broomsticks. His gaze immediately turned to the sky, seeing the first rays of light on the horizon. His eyes widened as he searched for shelter.
The Shrieking Shack was his only human thought before he ran to the dilapidated house. He locked himself in and ran to the darkest room he could find. He huddled in a corner, wrapping his wings around his body. The dragon within him had completely taken over, leaving him without any rational thought. If he had not been like this, he would have thought to floo to the dungeons of Hogwarts.
That was where Draco found him, Harry's emerald eyes cautious. A cornered animal was always dangerous. Even one who is left human. Draco stood with Inferna and Driretlan, the two Guardians staring at Harry with something akin to sorrow in their masked eyes. Inferna moved forward, dropping to her knees before him. She took him into her arms as if he were a child, wrapping her wings around him. She ran her fingers through his hair, singing a haunting song of parseltongue into Harry's ear. But apparently the song was only haunting to Draco. Harry calmed, that animalistic gleam disappearing from his eyes.
Harry looked up, seeing the various styles of jewelry on Driretlan. He saw that the older Guardian did not have the characteristic red scales on his lower abdomen, so Harry labeled him as safe… for the moment. A sense of warmth heated Harry's body when his gaze landed on Draco. Draco shifted slightly, half of him wishing he had not been so rash as to come here. But the other half of him caused him to move closer—caused the corner of his mouth to move towards the heavens.
Harry looked to Inferna, communicating his thanks through his eyes. He extricated himself from her adopting embrace. Moving towards Draco, he hesitated slightly. Draco's head tilted to the side slightly, a frown on his lips.
"What happened?" he asked, the receding scales on Harry's back revealing a large bruise.
"The death eaters. They spoke of you… in the cruelest way. Spoke of what Lucius did to you; what they wanted to do to you," Harry replied, his voice breaking when he spoke of Lucius.
Draco sighed, raking his hand through his hair. "You heard about that, huh?" the blonde asked.
"Yeah," Harry replied dejectedly.
Awkward silence ensued before Draco looked at his watch. Noon. "Come on. Let's get you back to Hogwarts," Draco said.
Seeing floo powder above the fireplace, he threw some into a newly made fire. The two older Guardians went through first. Draco waited a moment before taking Harry's arm, leading him into the fireplace.
"Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office!" he commanded.
Harry was never graceful when it came to floo. He fell onto the floor, accidentally bringing Draco with him. The blonde, coincidentally, landed on top of Harry, momentarily knocking the breath out of him. Harry immediately apologized, afraid that he might unknowingly push Draco away. Draco shook his head and stood, brushing himself off before holding his hand out to help Harry up.
"It's alright Potter," Draco said as he pulled Harry to his feet.
Albus Dumbledore watched from the top of his staircase, a knowing smile on his aged face.
"I'm sorry I got you into all of this, Draco," Harry said quietly.
"Go down to the dungeons Potter. I have no wish to talk to you," Draco said, his eyes masked.
Harry's gaze was downcast as he headed towards the door. Draco watched him with scrutinizing eyes as Harry left. He rolled his eyes and grabbed Harry's wrist before the Guardian could open the door. He pulled him back, firmly pressing his lips against Harry's.
I don't want to talk to you Potter. I want to kiss you.
A/N: So, how was that? Review!