Summary: Harry wasn't expecting to wake up one day not entirely human, but the universe had always taken great pleasure in throwing him to the wolves. And when a certain someone discovers him in a rather…awkward predicament, he realises just how literal that statement truly is. Drarry, Soulmates, Creature Fic, Fairy Harry, Werewolf Draco, AU after the war
AN: Hello! Back today with an entirely new Drarry story that popped into my head out of nowhere. I love writing stuff like this so I just sort of gravitated towards it. I know I should be finishing the last chapter of After the Rain Falls, but had to follow the muse. I promise I'll return to that soon. If you want to read my stories with better formatting and UI I post everything on Ao3 under the same username.
A Strange Twist of Fate
Of all the things that could have happened in the wake of the war, finding out he wasn't entirely human was the last thing on Harry's list of inane possibilities. In fact, it wasn't even on the list at all. He figured he'd end up finishing his schooling, perhaps become an auror if his grades proved decent enough. Maybe even a professional quidditch player if all that fell through. There was a long list of other things he'd considered in moments of weakness, ranging from disappearing into the muggle world for a mundane life without magic, to meditating atop a mountain and becoming a monk. Heck, even dying was on the list. Because one never could be certain they would go up against an evil Dark Lord and live to tell the tale. But he sure as hell hadn't ever considered the notion that he'd wake up on the eve of the next spring equinox atop a bed of flowers that had sprouted up from between the floorboards, with vines twisting around his limbs, and shimmering wings buzzing about his form.
A fairy. Of all things. Of all the possibilities. He was a bloody fairy.
It took weeks of careful research - with Hermione's help of course - and retracing his steps to figure out that he'd inadvertently stepped into a fairy ring in the Forbidden Forest just before Voldemort cast the killing curse. He'd died in it. And then he was reborn within it too. Only one couldn't really be born within a fairy ring if they weren't a fairy. So naturally, that meant he was one.
What a strange twist of fate.
He didn't mind being a fairy so much. It wasn't really bad, per se. It just meant he had to put quite a bit of effort into keeping it a secret. Working to control his appearance in the presence of humans and making sure to appease his sudden cravings to become one with nature. It was a wild ride discovering more of his kind. Learning all he could about fairies and their clans. He'd been invited to stay amongst a few, but couldn't bring himself to leave the friends he now called family for an eternity amongst the fae. And no matter how many of those fairy enclaves he visited, none of them ever felt like home.
Mind you, Grimmauld Place didn't much feel like home either.
He did his best to acclimatize. The entire house was grass lined, to the chagrin of some of his visitors, along with a fair few portraits on the walls. There were soft swells of gardens atop each step between the floors. And his bedroom was charmed to look like the outdoors. He was always barefoot when he could be, always trying to settle himself into the manufactured wilderness throughout the house as best he could, but it wasn't quite the same as walking in the woods and breathing in the scents of magic and trees that were so very lacking in the middle of muggle London.
Weeks cooped up inside often left him with severe cravings for woodland walks, and it became increasingly difficult to continue to hide his true form from all those around him. Which was why he found himself in his current predicament. Shoes off, socks tucked inside, and his bare feet shoved hastily into a potted plant on the exterior of whatever overbearing and large estate this was. He could hear the distant sound of voices. The heated discussions between various aristocrats and members of magical ministries who had congregated in one place for the Magical Creature Campaign Gala. It was organized by Hermione of course, who held the new title of Minister for Magical Creature Welfare and Cooperation.
Harry sighed wistfully as he inched further down inside the pot. The roots of the plant took up much of the space within and it was a tight squeeze, but it was better than nothing. He clenched his fingers around the mass of waxy leaves and did his best not to break any of them as he tried desperately to keep himself from twisting the greenery about his body and shifting into the form he felt most comfortable in. He didn't have much time, and he couldn't risk being seen in such a place, lest it end up all over the world's magical papers by dawn.
He was so focused on absorbing the quick relief granted by the topsoil between his ankles that he didn't notice someone approaching at all, and then a familiar drawl sounded off to his side. "What…are you doing?"
Harry whipped his head around, his eyes widening as he clenched tightly to the plant between his fingers. Draco Malfoy stood just at the edge of the marble pillars lining the pathway, eyebrow raised in noticeable curiosity as he looked Harry head to toe.
"Shit," Harry hissed, and he dropped his gaze and pulled his feet free immediately. The plant nearly toppled over as he stumbled to the ground beside it, and Harry scrambled to right it, taking a moment to pat down the soil around the somewhat off kilter stalk. He began hastily digging the dirt out from between his toes as Draco stepped closer to stare down at him more carefully. He didn't miss the way Draco eyed the mess he'd made of the potted plant at his side. Harry flushed and stood in front of him awkwardly. Perhaps he could pass this off as just another one of his oddities. Of which he had many. He eyed his shoes with great reluctance and shifted up and down atop the stone in his bare feet before meeting Draco's probing silver gaze.
It had been quite some time since they'd last seen each other in person. After hushed apologies following the Battle of Hogwarts, and a rather unsteady handshake, their childhood rivalry had long since dissipated into mere memory. Harry knew Draco had changed, much as he had, and he had a newfound respect for Draco after witnessing his desire to better himself and the effort he'd made to do so after the war. Even, perhaps, admiration. Both of them had grown considerably since their days at Hogwarts.
Draco wasn't a boy anymore. He was very clearly a man. He stood tall, but there was a relaxed nature to his posture that had never been there when he was young that spoke of well-earned confidence and comfort of self. Harry envied him that. Most days, he still felt more than a little out of sorts in his own clumsy tangle of arms and legs.
"Hi," Harry muttered.
"Hello Potter," Draco voiced in return. There was a note of amusement in the way he said it, and he smirked slightly and tilted his head to the side, very clearly trying to make sense of Harry's plight. In fact, Draco was looking at him like he'd gone mad, studying every inch of his frame, as though the answer was hidden somewhere in the midst of his scrawny limbs. And well…Harry supposed it was, in a way.
He wondered how long it would take him to make the connection. To see the swirling patterns just beneath the surface of his skin. The flowers that wanted to break free and bloom all along his body. The shifting greens flecked with yellow sparks within his eyes. It wouldn't be difficult. Not for someone like Draco, who was well-read and rivalled Hermione when it came to obscure magical knowledge one had no real need to know. Harry did his best to keep the twisting flora under control, but he was so unsettled, so tired, so ready to give in to its pull. When was the last time he'd properly sunk his toes into dirt outdoors? Weeks ago? Months?
He needed to connect with nature. He was itching for it.
A daffodil suddenly sprouted out from his inner wrist, and Harry let out a gasp and batted it away frantically. But it was impossible to miss, and sure enough, Draco's steely gaze followed the hasty movement, his eyes narrowing as he frowned at the scattered petals now falling towards the ground. His expression twisted into something unfamiliar. His nose scrunched up a bit, and he sniffed the air, tilting his head back as his mouth opened in what might have been barely concealed wonder.
It was then that Harry spotted the insignia hanging from the chain around his neck. Oh…Oh!
Suddenly everything made so much more sense. Draco had thrown himself into potion work after graduating. Quickly becoming one of the most sought after potioneers in the wizarding world. He had a natural talent for it. But he'd made remarkable strides in the advancement of wolfsbane in particular, modifying the concoction to allow werewolves to retain complete presence of mind on the full moon, while also altering the transformation into a less monstrous form. He actively advocated for better rights and life for werewolves after the influx of so many new ones in the wake of Voldemort's reign. More than likely his reasoning for attending this particular gala. Harry had assumed it was residual guilt that spurred him on, perhaps atonement for letting Fenrir Greyback into Hogwarts to wreak havoc on school children. And while that surely contributed, it seemed there was more to it after all.
"You're a werewolf," Harry uttered uselessly. It was obvious. Only other wolves ever wore that particular insignia. The phases of the moon etched around a five-petaled lilac. A symbol of unity, perseverance, and the desire to attain a better place for themselves in the wizarding world. A symbol of peace and harmony.
Draco smirked slightly and responded, "And you're a fairy." Harry sighed mournfully. He'd failed to hide it from him. But such things were difficult to keep from werewolves at the best of times. They had an uncanny ability to smell those subtle differences in magic even in their human form. "I had no idea," Draco added after a slight pause.
"Not many do," Harry admitted.
He'd been doing his best to keep his creature affinity hidden from all but his closest friends. Like any magical creature, fairies were often mistrusted and misrepresented in wizarding media. They had their own history of being hunted for magical properties, for being criminalized. Labelled as…dark. Just one of the reasons they isolated themselves far away from wizarding populations. And while Harry might have been able to use his fame as an advantage to gain fast support, he really didn't want to resort to that. He was so tired of dodging cameras and reporters. He had enough difficulty with his status as The Boy Who Lived. And now there was the new moniker, Saviour of the Wizarding World. He really didn't need Harry Potter – Fairy Friend or Foe, added to the list of headlines he woke up to every day. He just wanted a peaceful and private life for once. An easy life. A normal life.
Of course life as a fairy was hardly normal. But he was doing the best he could.
Instead he covertly helped Hermione in her mission to improve the rights of all magical creatures, mostly from the sidelines. Just until he could find his own place in the world. He showed up to events when she needed, and even gave the occasional speech, carefully crafted by Hermione in advance of course, as his own charisma and ability with words was rather lacking. They were making progress. It was infuriatingly slow at times, but still progress.
Draco spoke up then, shoving his hands casually into his pockets as he stared down at Harry with an unreadable expression. "There's a patch of grass in a small garden on the East side of the plaza. Well hidden. It might prove more effective than…," Draco trailed off and eyed the lopsided remnants of the potted plant pointedly. "I can…show you the way, if you'd like."
The offer surprised Harry, but he couldn't hide his desire to find a piece of nature in that very moment in time. He perked up, straightened out his robes and nodded hastily. "Yes, alright," he quietly accepted. "That would be…nice."
Draco smiled in an oddly gentle way and bent low to pick up Harry's shoes, carrying them along on the ends of his fingertips as he led Harry through the outer expanses of the estate. Harry worried briefly that someone might spot his bare feet and ask questions, but Draco directed him through the crowd easily, using undeniable charm and his aristocratic experience to evade conversation skilfully. He held his free hand at the base of Harry's waist, encouraging him onwards as he distracted everyone who tried to pull him aside or start up a discussion on the integration of giants into wizarding society. Not a single person glanced at Harry twice. And his patting feet went completely unnoticed at the base of his swishing robes.
Harry was grateful, and he let himself follow along silently, the tension in his frame easing away ever so slightly. It was nice to let someone else take the reins for a moment. Especially when he was feeling so on edge.
They moved out between a set of doors, and then beyond another, into a quaint little garden space hidden along the edge of the estate. True to Draco's words, it was completely unoccupied and well away from the gathered crowds. When Harry spotted the patch of grass and flowers, his eyes widened and he skipped forward in excitement. He toppled slightly as he jumped up into the tiny garden, and reached out to grasp Draco's outreached hand for support. He muttered his thanks, and then sighed in relief as his toes found their home in the grass and dirt.
"Oh this is wonderful," Harry breathed. He nearly let himself go entirely, could feel his wings tickling beneath the ridge of his shoulder blades and buzzing under his skin like a swarm of bees. But he held them back. Even just the feel of nature allowed him infinitely more control. "It's been days since I've been able to properly sink into soil."
Draco eyed him curiously, still holding his hand upright and offering stability as Harry settled into the dirt. He set Harry's shoes down at the edge of the garden and reached out his other hand as well. Harry took it easily, hardly even thinking about it as he eagerly trampled along in the patch.
"You still live at Grimmauld Place, don't you? How do you manage it?" Draco asked, and Harry pondered him for a moment. It was a valid question. Grimmauld Place was stuck right in the middle of city streets. No yard to speak of, no surrounding nature even. The closest park was several blocks away, and Harry couldn't very well let his fairy form out in the midst of muggles, even at night.
"I've modified it a tad. Not particularly suitable for guests I'm afraid. But much more comfortable for me," Harry explained. "It's not ideal. I'd rather…the real thing. Crave it to be honest. But…," Harry trailed off, and then glanced down. He'd found a good place to take root. He lifted his feet up one at a time as he stomped them further down into the dirt. "What's it like at the manor? I suppose you have lots of space to roam on the full moon?"
Draco let out a quick huff of air. "I'm not living at the manor right now," he began. Harry met his gaze again, taking in the strange shifting silver tones in his eyes. "Too many strong scents," he added after a pause. "Greyback made his home there for far too long. And I can't say I'm fond of the memories associated."
"Ah," Harry acknowledged. It would be difficult living in a place that smelled like another's territory. Even one who was long dead and gone.
"I'm staying at one of the less regal Malfoy estates. More of a cabin really. Out in the woods, in the Forest of Dean." Harry opened his mouth in disbelief as he recalled the days he'd spent there during the war. If he hadn't been hiding from the snatchers at the time, plagued by his task of defeating Voldemort, and if acromantula and inferi hadn't infested parts of it, he presumed it would have been a very lovely place to stay. But picturing Draco out in the wild alone was rather difficult. "I've…cleaned it up quite a lot, since making the forest my territory," Draco added, taking in his stunned expression. "Plus, there are no meddling house elves, no overbearing family."
"That must be quite the adjustment," Harry commented.
Draco tilted his head up to look at the night's sky, and tightened his fingers slightly around Harry's hands. "It's been quite freeing." He glanced back at Harry then, and kicked off his own shoes. It took him a moment to toe away his socks without bending to do so, and then he stepped up into the garden at Harry's side. "And I'm not averse to living amongst the stillness of nature. My wolf quite likes it actually." Draco's feet settled in the dirt atop Harry's own, and he felt the weight of them in the soil like a comforting blanket.
Close as they were, it was impossible not to notice the broadness of Draco's shoulders, his remarkable height, and the way his pointed features had sharpened in a handsome way as he grew into them. His pale blond hair was styled loosely, cropped close on the sides but wavy and long on top. It wasn't as severe a style, but still quite striking. Attractive, even. Harry felt his skin warming, and his palms began to sweat in Draco's hold. If not for his absolute need to keep up pretences for the evening, he was certain little buds would have been sprouting up from beneath his fingernails. "The hardest part has been learning how to ready my own meals," Draco continued. He smiled crookedly and Harry found his gaze fixated on the pointed teeth that poked through his slightly opened lips. "I prefer my meat prepared in a particular way. And I prefer to eat food that I've gathered and hunted myself," Draco explained. "Learning to hunt was easy, but I'm a miserable cook, even with magic."
At that Harry laughed, and lowered his gaze. At least he had Draco beat in one department. He could cook a mighty tasty meal.
He had some difficulty picturing Draco in such a different environment to his past. He'd grown so used to seeing him surrounded by wealth and posh interiors. It was odd to think that Draco might…thrive in simpler living quarters. He imagined that living off the land could be quite rewarding in some ways. If he'd had a place to gather berries and nuts and grow his own vegetables for meals, he would have jumped at the chance. The tiny little planter inside his home very much limited what he could do. Harry shivered as he pictured Draco hunting wildlife in the forest he'd made his own. But not in an unpleasant way. It was more of a tingle really, running down his spine and up into the tiny hairs at the nape of his neck. The flowers beneath his skin unravelled, eager to make their way above the surface where they could flourish and bloom, put on a show for whoever was looking, and Harry took a deep breath and urged them to settle.
"Then you…are at peace, with your wolf," Harry said.
"I am," Draco agreed. "It's taken some time. But I am." He looked very much at peace even in that moment. An easy smile resting on his face as he gazed down at Harry with swirling irises. Even beneath the new moon, the feral nature of the wolf was visible in his human form. There was a sort of wild energy to him now, something untamed, and Harry's gaze dropped and took in the pale tuft of hairs visible between the open buttons of his shirt. His grip was firm, Harry noted, as Draco's hands slid up to settle beneath Harry's forearms, allowing for a comfortable place for Harry's palms to rest in return. There was strength there. Physical strength. And perhaps it should have frightened him more, but instead Harry found Draco a comforting presence, much like an age old willow tree with roots long settled beneath the ground.
"There is some truth to Greyback's philosophy of giving in to the wolf," Draco mentioned, and Harry peered at him curiously. "He wasn't entirely wrong. He just went about it in the wrong way,"
Draco clarified. "Simple things, like being in nature, and hunting your own food, allowing the scent of wilderness to guide you. It appeases the wolf. Learning not to fear the wolf inside and accept it instead is important. It helps with the transformation. And with the aid of wolfsbane, the full moon can be quite a pleasant experience. Even for a lone wolf such as me."
"You don't have a pack?" Harry asked with a slight frown.
"No. I couldn't find one where I…fit." Harry was surprised by the way that resonated with his own experience. He didn't fit. Not really. No matter where he looked, it just didn't feel quite right. "I don't mind it. I have my own territory to protect, and other creatures to keep safe. I like that sense of duty. Surprising, I know," Draco drawled. He peered at Harry through half closed eyes. "Though it does get a tad lonely here and there."
The admission was startling, but not entirely unexpected. Werewolves thrived amongst a pack much the same way as fairies did with a clan. And he supposed Draco's transition into becoming a werewolf was unlikely to have been a pleasant experience. Both of them had jumped into the realm of creature life in unconventional ways and as a result of the war. Harry looked down at the place his feet disappeared into the ground and uttered, "I know what you mean."
After a moment Draco shifted his feet further atop Harry's and wriggled his toes teasingly. The sensation left Harry giggling in pleasant surprise as the warmth of Draco's feet spread over his toes, contrasting with the coolness of the soil. Harry lost track of time standing there in that tiny garden, chatting with Draco about other random things. They spoke about his work, and progress in potion making, about the other wolves he'd met, and even his family. Harry shared small bits and pieces from his own unexciting endeavours, as well as a brief explanation of his awakening as a fairy, and it was nearing the end of the gala when they were pulled suddenly from their private encounter.
The nearby set of doors flew open and Hermione's voice rang out inside the gardens. "Harry! Where on earth have you been?" She stomped over towards them and paused at the edge of the patch, staring up at him in disbelief. "You've made a complete mess of your robes. And you're expected for closing remarks in five minutes!" Hermione chastised. She pressed her hands against her waist and huffed loudly. She glanced between the two of them, taking a quick moment to study Draco intently, before peering at their entangled arms in visible confusion.
"Bollocks. I forgot," Harry breathed. He scampered from the soil, hands leaving Draco for the first time in well over an hour, and hurried to slide his shoes back over his feet. It felt like casting them in cement. Draco stepped down beside him and cast a quick cleaning spell, as Hermione hurriedly straightened his robes and fixed his collar. Harry knew his face was lined with tension as Hermione thrust the parchment with his speech on it between his fingers. He took a few deep breaths, but already the anxiety had started to edge in, and it was incredibly difficult to keep himself from bursting into a drove of pine needles right then and there.
"Here," Draco offered, and he reached out and wrapped something around Harry's wrist. A sprig of lavender, with a several little blossoms on the end. He must have plucked it from the garden when Harry wasn't looking. He felt the soothing sensation atop his skin immediately as the leaves and petals curled and sank into his flesh, becoming one with his body like a comforting embrace.
"Erm…," Harry muttered, while Hermione's eyes widened and looked between them in search of answers to a puzzle she hadn't yet begun to understand the mechanics to. "Thank you, Malfoy," Harry whispered. He nodded towards the garden, "It helped," he said quietly, and then hastily added, "This too," before lifting his hand up between them to show off the makeshift bracelet.
He could feel Hermione's irritation, as she started tapping her foot and looking behind herself impatiently. He supposed it wouldn't do to delay any longer.
"I'll see you around?" Harry asked as he edged away, ever closer to the ruckus inside the estate.
Draco smiled at him and tilted his head down in a nod, "I'm sure our paths will cross here and there."
Harry couldn't help but hope he was right.
As the months flew by Harry found himself falling into a relaxing job at Neville's shop, Herbs & Gourds. Set up in Diagon Alley, it was a charming little store, filled to the brim with all sorts of herbology odds and ends. Harry had jumped at the chance when Neville offered him a position working as his assistant. He'd never excelled at herbology before, but with his newfound fairy heritage, it was like second nature.
It was a nice little gig. Kept him out of the public eye for the most part. Not many people even knew he was there. And any who did happen to catch a glimpse, and snuck into the shop for a quick peek of the 'chosen one', were quickly deterred by the venomous tentacula just inside the door. It was harmless under the care of Neville, so long as it wasn't touched, but they didn't need to know that.
Harry quite enjoyed his days spent at the store. Neville didn't mind if he stepped in the soil or let himself become one with nature when need be. If anything, his affinity for wildlife encouraged the plants to grow and thrive, and Neville was always pleasantly surprised when a rare herb would suddenly sprout up from one of his empty planters. Harry was also able to cultivate and pluck ingredients from even the most dangerous of flora with ease, as no magical plant would seek to harm a fairy.
In the middle of the afternoon, after a particularly hectic morning, Harry wrapped himself around a well nurtured bonsai in the back corner of the shop, letting his body mimic the winding wood and tufts of foliage at its top. Bark-like texture twisted over his shoulders, tightly wound leaves sprouted from his hair and fingers, green moss grew atop his feet and calves, and he closed his eyes and settled into the embrace of the tree. He heard the bell above the shop door chime in the back of his mind, but stayed put, waiting out whatever customer had decided to stop in for supplies. They wouldn't see him, even if they walked right by his side.
It was when he heard the distinctive drawl that his eyes snapped open and he peered between branches towards the front desk excitedly.
"Longbottom, hello."
"O-oh, what can I do for you Malfoy? Short on ingredients?"
"Yes. I have a list if you can provide them. Some are rather difficult to come by."
Harry watched as Draco pulled a rolled parchment from his pocket and passed it over the counter. He was dressed in a well fitted waistcoat and slacks, but his shirt was open at the collar, and his sleeves were rolled up past his elbows. His hair had frizzed up a bit, hanging over the side of his head in a messy tuft. It looked as though he'd come straight from working in his shop. The sight of him sent a strange flutter through Harry's heart and he bit into his lower lip as his cheeks flushed and burst with cherry blossoms. Harry smiled slightly and pressed his face further into the bonsai's winding trunk, his glasses squishing into the bridge of his nose and going slightly askew. He wondered if he should say hello. Despite Draco's parting words, the two of them hadn't seen one another since the gala.
"These shouldn't be a problem for the most part. Though, I'm low on moonwort. Next expected harvest is in a week or so."
"That's fine, I'll take the rest for now," Draco voiced. He waited patiently as Neville got to work gathering the bulk of his long list, peering into the store rather blankly. Then his eyes narrowed and he shifted to the side and sniffed the air. "Is Potter here?"
Harry breathed in quickly. It was unlikely that Draco knew he worked there. Hardly anyone did. Though he supposed word did travel fast, and Draco's potions shop was merely a block or so away. It would only take one gossiping gaggle of schoolgirls who thought they'd seen him through the store's windows for him to find out. Werewolf hearing was quite good. Though not near as good as their ability to smell. Did Draco already recognize his scent? So quickly, and from so far? Amongst so many other potent plants and herbs? Surely not.
Neville panicked slightly, fumbling the ingredients he was gathering into a box. Several jars clattered together as he hurried to upright them with shaking fingers. "Er…he's…he's stepped out, Malfoy," Neville stuttered. "How did you know he worked here?"
"I didn't," Draco drawled. He was still staring curiously into the foliage, suspiciously close to where Harry lurked against the tree.
"Oh! Well…I…," Neville trailed off, looking even more nervous than before, and Harry nearly laughed. He felt a surge of warmth for Neville swell in his chest. He really was a very good friend. And he very likely thought he'd given Harry away.
Draco breathed in again, closing his eyes as he took in the likely overwhelming scents within the shop, before opening them and stepping around the edge of the counter. "Save yourself the trouble Longbottom. I can smell him. He's right over there," Draco said with a pointed nod.
Neville peered frantically into the expanse of his store, not quite sure exactly where Harry was. His mouth opened and closed rapidly as he struggled to come up with some kind of cover, and Harry finally decided to put him at ease. "Neville, it's okay. He knows," Harry spoke softly, and Neville relaxed visibly and sat down on the stool behind the counter with a heavy sigh.
Harry stepped free from the twisting bark, a series of flora swirling about his form. Draco caught the movement immediately, grey gaze latching on and following him as he pulled his hands away from the bonsai slowly. Vines tightened and snapped when he stepped down atop the floor and shook the moss away from his feet. Harry flushed as Draco took in his near naked form, nothing but the texture of wildlife and a few well-placed leaves to keep his more private areas hidden, and even then, it didn't leave much to the imagination. Harry shuffled over towards the counter as Draco's gaze followed his every movement, his mouth open slightly in awe. He watched attentively as Harry slipped on a loose robe and willed his skin to return to its more human appearance. His pointed ears rounded out, and the bark-like texture faded away to his usual tone. Bits of foliage shifted and shrunk, until the only remnants of nature upon his body were the stray leaves still clinging to his dark strands of hair and the somewhat enchanting sparkles of colour within his eyes. Neville inched his stool to the side to provide him more room behind the counter and Harry thanked him before peering up at Draco tentatively.
"Hi," Harry uttered.
"Hi," Draco breathed through slightly bared teeth. His attention was completely affixed on Harry, searching his face as if it held all the secrets of the world. Harry wanted to laugh at how similar this greeting was to the start of their last meeting, though it felt much less like Draco had the upper hand.
"I can…help speed up the harvest. For the moonwort," Harry offered as he glanced between Neville and Draco. "Should be ready by tomorrow. If you'd like I can drop by your store with what you need."
"Oh. That…," Draco struggled with his words, but finally managed to choke out, "That's very nice…of you." His speech was stilted, and he cleared his throat afterwards, gaze lingering at the metal fastening just beneath Harry's collar bone. Draco's tongue dragged out over his lips, and the combination of that and his sultry stare brought an even deeper flush to Harry's form. He felt the stirrings of desire in his groin and several raspberries suddenly sprouted up from his neck and began falling down atop the counter like a waterfall. Draco startled, reaching to cup them between his hands as they rolled over the countertop in front of him, and Harry fumbled to gather up the rest.
"Oh for crying out loud!" Harry gasped. He scooped the raspberries hastily into a nearby crate and lowered his head in embarrassment as they continued to tumble out of his body and bounce onto the floor in droves. Goodness sake. They wouldn't stop.
It wasn't the first time something like this had occurred. He was prone to spouting a blossom or two at the best of times, but on occasion, his fae magic would manifest in a more extreme way, particularly in the presence of those he trusted most and when his emotions were high.
When he'd first come out, to Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, the following swells of happiness at their immediate acceptance had spurred a cascade of so many sunflower seeds that the Weasleys now had an abundant garden of the flowers sprouting out in the fields surrounding the burrow. And there was the time that George had startled him so badly with a shrieking poltergeist in a pocket watch that he'd burst into a torrent of sandspurs that had been an absolute nightmare to pick away from every surface in his proximity.
"J-just ignore them. I'm so sorry," Harry stuttered as Draco eyed him in bewilderment. Harry's face went impossibly red, and several blossoms began sprouting up in random places, the petals floating down over his shoulders delicately. He squeaked and quickly swatted them away. He'd never been one to make a show of his innermost feelings, but now that he was a fairy, he didn't have to. The fairy magic took sick pleasure in giving him away all on its own. "Neville can you at least use some of these?"
Neville smiled kindly and let out a soft laugh. "I'm sure they'll make for a tasty jam."
After the deluge of berries finally subsided, Harry helped Neville gather the remaining ingredients while Draco stood by silently, seemingly still frozen in shock. It took several minutes to get everything in order, and as Draco finally shook himself free of his near petrification and paid, Harry grabbed a tiny baggie and filled it to the brim with some of the fresh raspberries. He tied it off with some twine, and then set it atop the open box of supplies. No sense in letting them go to waste after all. "Er…for you," Harry muttered quietly, and Draco stared at the bag of berries as his jaw muscle tensed and shifted visibly beneath his skin. His mouth opened, and Harry could have sworn he saw a fully pointed set of fangs peeking out from between his lips.
"Thank you," Draco muttered, low and gravelly, and so unlike his usual smooth as butter speaking tone. He slid the box off the counter and hoisted it into his arms, backing up towards the door. He eyed Harry the entire time, and eventually nodded and pushed himself outside, box clenched tightly between his hands.
The moment Draco's stiffly walking form was no longer visible throughout the storefront windows Harry put his head in his palms and groaned, leaning heavily over the counter. Neville inched towards him and patted his back gently. "I didn't know you had a crush on Draco Malfoy, of all people," Neville commented, and Harry clenched his fingers tightly in his hair.
He thought about blurting out a lie, but there was no use in hiding it. He'd been so transparent. Bursting berries all over the place, sprouting blossoms between his toes and in his palms. "I…I don't know why. It's…new. I think," Harry stuttered.
"Is it?"
Harry glanced at Neville out of the corner of his eyes. He considered the question for a moment, and thought back on his rather complicated feelings throughout the past several years. A not so small part of him could acknowledge that there'd always been something about Draco. Something that drew him in, compelled him to watch, and wonder, and well, obsess at times. And while it had certainly not always been romantic attraction that held his interest, if he was truly honest with himself, those thoughts and feelings had been brewing for quite some time. Years, even.
He could remember moments from classes, in which he had considered Draco rather eye-catching. Fleeting jealousy, after spotting him kissing a girl. Swirls of affection, in those few weeks following the war. And of course the occasional dream, featuring less than virtuous thoughts. His crush had been undeveloped throughout the years, still in the midst of fully forming, but it certainly wasn't new.
What a revelation.
"Maybe not," Harry whispered. He brought his thumb to his mouth and chewed away at the nail atop it mindlessly, hardly even noticing as his hair began to swirl upwards and cling to the dangling ivy hanging above.
"He's a good looking bloke. Can't say I blame you. And the whole…werewolf thing, has really added to his rugged appeal, don't you think?" Neville teased, and he nudged Harry with an elbow.
"Neville!" Harry huffed and he pushed Neville to the side on the stool before sitting down beside him. They sat back to back, staring up into the foliage hanging all along the ceiling above. "You don't think it's weird, do you? That it's Malfoy?"
Harry felt Neville turn his head to the side, but the steady weight at his back didn't move in the slightest. "He's not the same Malfoy anymore. Would've scared the pants off of me back at school, but he was rather polite today, don't you think? Pleasant, even. And dare I say…captivated by you," Neville teased. Harry flushed and lowered his head, staring at his fidgeting fingers. He felt Neville breathe in deeply, and closed his eyes, settling against the warmth of his solid back. "Maybe it is a bit weird, but if he makes you happy, Harry, that's really all that matters."
The thing was…Harry wasn't so much worried about whether or not Draco made him happy. He was more concerned about whether or not Draco would find happiness with him. Werewolves were particular creatures when it came to love and relationships. Much like fairies, they often found partnership only among one other for the entirety of their life. They were attracted to specific scents, specific strengths, and specific qualities, and Harry wasn't sure he possessed any of the things that Draco Malfoy would seek in a life partner. Werewolf or not, he was still a Malfoy, and it was highly unlikely that Harry was his type.
"C'mon. Let's make use of the rest of these," Neville urged, drawing Harry out of his thoughts as he slapped his hands against the side of the crate now overflowing with perfectly ripened raspberries.
In the end, they did make jam, and Harry was grateful for the distraction as he skipped between boiling the berries and tending to the plants in the store for the remainder of his shift. It took him the entirety of the following day to build up the courage to visit Enchanting Elixirs & Extracts to gift Draco a jar of it along with the freshly cultivated moonwort.
He spent several minutes peeking in through the foggy windows from the cobbled pathways of Diagon Alley, waiting until Draco's blond head of hair disappeared into a back room somewhere deep within the shop. Harry snuck inside quick as could be, slapped the jar down atop the front counter alongside the box of herbs, and exited before Draco even had a chance to reappear. His Gryffindor alumni status was laughing in his face and blatantly mocking him for being such a coward as he scrambled away.
The rest of his day found him hiding away in the back room of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, gushing to a bemused Ron, who diligently swept up the cascade of maple keys falling to the floor around them. Eventually he gave up, charming a broom to follow Harry around as he lingered nearby and listened to his tirade until well after closing hours.
"You're not mad, are you?" Harry asked warily, after he'd finally finished ranting like a besotted fool. He scooped a cracker into a jar of jam and shoved it into his mouth a little aggressively. The broom quickly added his crumbs to the large pile of maple keys in the corner of the room.
He couldn't blame Ron for having concerns. Their history with Draco was complicated. But even as Harry pictured the Draco of their school years, he couldn't help but smile fondly. He'd been such a brat. That little blond tosser. Which somehow made who he was now all the more appealing. Harry flushed and twisted atop his stool uncomfortably as he mentally berated himself for being so weird.
Ron sighed and pulled up a stool beside Harry to sit. He crossed his arms and grimaced slightly, jutting his chin out to the side. "About this mess or…,"
"You know what about!" Harry hissed. He wiped at his mouth, and then slumped, setting the jam down on the nearest table with a clack. His toes curled over the lowest bar of his stool, and he pressed his fingers into the tops of his thighs and stared down at the broom bristles scratching atop the wood around him.
There was a long pause, and Harry glanced up warily, catching sight of Ron's wry grin. "Nah mate, I'm not mad," Ron voiced. There was a note of resignation in his voice, as if he knew it wasn't worth arguing over. "Reckon there's other things to be concerned about that are more serious than who you wanna shag."
"Ron!"
"Figures it'd be Malfoy though," Ron added. He swept his red curls away from his brow before crossing his arms and stretching out his legs. "Hermione's going to be barmy when you tell her. You know that right?"
Harry let out a quick laugh and relaxed atop the stool. "How much do you want to bet she figured it out weeks ago and never felt the need to share. Knows me better than I know myself half the time," Harry fumed.
Ron sat up straight and cleared his throat. "Of course Harry, I've known it would be Malfoy from the moment you first duelled," Ron mimicked, raising his voice into an upper register as he tilted his chin up haughtily and mimicked her in an exaggerated manner. The two of them broke out into laughter shortly after, and when their laughs subsided, Ron set up a wizard's chess board on the stockroom table and they played well into the evening.
Later, when Hermione finally joined them, take-out in hand, Harry gushed to her as he poked madly at a box of noodles with unsteady chopsticks. In true Hermione fashion, she very much had anticipated Harry's descent into madness and was hardly fazed by his confessions of growing attraction to Draco Malfoy. "He's rather fetching, isn't he?" she commented idly. "That is, now that he's moved on from acting like a complete and utter prat. Brains and brawn. That's rare these days." Ron choked on his food, punching himself in the chest while Harry stared at her in disbelief. "It's not like your obsession with him is new," she added.
Harry spluttered, stumbling over a few nonsensical words that did little to disprove her claim, and Hermione smirked at him in satisfaction. "Oh come on Harry. You know it's true. Following him around on your map like a lost puppy. Staring at him throughout every lesson. If you'd spent half the amount of time studying as you did chasing after Malfoy you probably would've been top of the class!"
Ron snorted at that, and Harry glared at him heatedly.
"Then there was the constant bickering. Repressed sexual tension like no other. And don't even get me started on the way you've scoured my copies of Magical Innovation Periodical in recent years for articles about his accomplishments. You certainly weren't interested in them for the advancement and utility of diverse materials for wand cores or the properties that bind them."
A brilliant flush rose up Harry's neck and the entirety of his face turned a deep rosy red. He didn't even acknowledge the roses blooming out of his cheeks or the cascade of petals that sprung free like an explosive bouquet. Damn it. He thought he'd been sneaky with those magazines.
She crossed her legs, and took a few bites of szechuan chicken, taking her time to chew and savour the flavour. Then, after a self-assured nod, she pointed at him with her chopsticks, and insisted, to Harry's dismay, "You and Malfoy, it really was bound to happen, all along."
For someone who didn't believe in destiny, that was quite the hefty statement.
To Harry's surprise, Draco visited Herbs & Gourds often after his spineless venture to deliver the moonwort and jam. Sometimes more than once a day. He'd drop in to purchase ingredients, to chat, and then eat his lunch sitting atop the windowsill at the front. Even the snapping venomous tentacula did little to deter him.
Sometimes Draco appeared under the simple guise of escaping the monotony of stirring his cauldrons, watching carefully as Harry trimmed and tended to the plants. On occasion he'd engage Neville in a discussion about the properties of various herbs and their potential for use in potions, however his attention never strayed from Harry for long, and his interest never waned. He seemed fascinated with the way Harry blended into his surroundings, by the myriad of textures ever shifting and evolving across his form.
He always knew if Harry was there. Would sniff the air and beckon him out with a muttered 'Potter, show yourself' in his distinctive drawl. Then they'd banter back and forth for a while, and Harry would try and fail not to sprout some variety of vegetation en masse from his body whenever Draco made his heart beat a little faster than normal with one of his signature smirks.
Sometimes Harry got over his fears and visited Draco as well. Watched him work over his books and brews. And without fail, there was always a pile of something left in his wake. He uttered apologies, and did his best to ensure nothing ever mistakenly fell into the potions he was concocting, but Draco never seemed bothered by whatever bit of nature he left behind, whether it be berries, or leaves, petals, or seeds.
"Thanks for always stocking my potions stores, Potter," he whispered once, staring at Harry through the steam above one of his cauldrons, before carefully popping a fresh strawberry between his pointed teeth. He savoured it, licking his lips and grinning lasciviously, before adding, "You always provide me with the ripest of ingredients." And somehow Harry knew, the bulk of those berries would not be getting used in potions at all.
They went on short walks together, perusing the other shops in Diagon Alley and occasionally venturing out into muggle London. Draco had an uncanny ability to sense when Harry needed to disappear into nature for a moment, and he'd take watch while Harry found a bit of afternoon comfort amongst the trees lining the short hiking trails throughout the city. It was never quite enough to completely settle the strange restlessness running rampant throughout his very veins, but it was something. The best he could hope to get so near to a crowded city.
Sometimes Harry even cooked for Draco, dropping off magically preserved meals at his store. Draco was always particularly delighted by this, and never left behind a scrap. And when Draco brought him a packet of prepared meats for the first time, sliced and cleaned and ready for use in his recipes, Harry made sure to treat it with the utmost care. He worried about seasoning it wrong, or preparing it incorrectly, but no matter what, Draco always seemed particularly fond of his food.
"You certainly know the way to my heart," Draco breathed, leaning down to sniff at Harry's latest creation. A cross between a curry and a soup, rich with coconut milk, lemongrass, and red pepper paste. When Draco finally looked up at him, after taking a hefty sip, Harry was met with a heated gaze that sent a tingle of arousal straight down between his legs, and a torrent of seeds falling to the floor beneath his robes. Draco chuckled at his dismay and muttered, "Ah, coriander. Perfect. I was running low."
There was something brewing between them. Like a simmering elixir of its own. Just a few stirs away from completion. And Harry was afraid to fully acknowledge it lest it fade away into nothingness and he was left with that familiar aching void within his chest he hadn't entirely acknowledged was there before.
He knew it for what it was.
Loneliness.
Draco had hinted at it before, and Harry had battled with it as well, particularly in those few weeks after the war where he felt as though the entirety of the wizarding world's losses were in no small part due to him. He'd shut himself away, let the emptiness overtake him, to the point that it became such a part of him that he'd grown to accept and even embrace that feeling of isolation to dangerous levels. And when he discovered he was a fairy, he'd felt even more alone in the world. Even more strange and weird and different from all those around him. He came to accept the fact that there was no possible way anyone would ever truly understand or desire him for him. He accepted loneliness as a permanent part of his life. But now, he was afraid of it. Because he'd had a small glimpse of what it might be like to not be so alone. To have…someone.
Someone like Draco.
This…feeling of emotional connection was exhilarating. It was new, and fun, and satisfying. It was everything he'd ever hoped and longed for in all those years as a child growing up in a cupboard under the stairs. A place to belong. A person to belong to. A person to belong to him.
It was also terrifying.
But despite his hesitancies, Harry still wanted to take the risk. There was still a little Gryffindor left inside of him yet. So maybe he stirred that hypothetical cauldron once or twice more. And maybe he let Draco stir it too.
They liked to play a little game on occasion, whenever Draco happened to visit while Harry was lost in the overgrown ferns within Neville's store. Instead of showing himself immediately, he'd make Draco work for it. Make him sniff him out amongst the many plants growing inside Herbs & Gourds.
This time he was hiding in a cluster of death caps, tucked away in the darkest corner of the small greenhouse attached to the shop. He was well away from sunlight, and entrenched in hanging vines and leafy branches. Mushrooms sprouted up across the back of his legs and over his waist and shoulders as he lay on his belly in the soil. His fingers dug into the dirt, and he closed his eyes for a moment, listening to Draco's soft footfalls as he made his way nearer.
Harry could see him through the dangling vines, walking carefully between the plants as he sniffed the air and smirked. He stepped closer, poked at one of the poisonous mushrooms and bent low and so closely that his nose nearly touched Harry's tip to tip. His finger grazed the edge of Harry's glasses, and then traced the round frames slowly.
"Found you," he breathed, and Harry laughed and twisted slightly free, pushing his body up just enough for his face and arms to become fully visible. When Draco reached out to hold his hands and help him sit up Harry wasn't surprised. It was the following action that had him squeaking slightly in disbelief as a healthy flush filled his cheeks.
Draco often greeted him now by sniffing at his neck and hair. He claimed it pacified his wolf. Something about familiarity, or security. Scenting, he called it. Harry hadn't really paid much attention to his explanations, far too caught up on the dreamlike sensation the action provoked inside his head. As something cool pressed against the edge of his jaw Harry tilted his head away to let Draco scent him fully, heart beating rapidly in his chest. Despite the number of times this had happened, Harry had yet to grow used to the feeling of Draco's nose dragging across his sensitive skin, or the heated breaths upon his naked shoulders.
He was a bit more insistent today than usual, hands running up Harry's forearms as his nose crept down his collar bone and upper chest. The ghost of warm air across Harry's leafy skin tickled, and he shivered and pushed Draco away with a stifled giggle as he came frighteningly close to a barely covered nipple. Draco growled in annoyance, but eased off, closing his mouth as he breathed in one last time through his nose.
"Are you done for the day? Did you want to go for a walk?" Harry asked, shifting to rest on his knees atop the dirt.
Draco's gaze dipped, taking in the movement of his thighs and the swirling textures across his skin. "Actually, there's something I was hoping to get your help with, when you're done here. Ideally before the sun sets."
"Oh?" Harry stood and stepped free of the foliage, summoning his robe with a well-practiced wandless hand motion. He felt Draco's gaze on him as he shoved his arms inside the baggy sleeves, as he always did. "What is it?"
Draco offered him a secretive smile, but didn't answer immediately. He crossed his arms and leaned casually against a plant support as Harry eyed him suspiciously. "It's a bit far, but we can floo there?" Draco suggested as Harry finished fastening his robe.
A not so small part of Harry wanted to press him for more information. Instead he rolled his eyes and sighed before summoning his shoes. But as he bent to slip them on Draco kicked them aside. "You won't need those," he drawled, meeting Harry's stunned and curious gaze. Then he held out his arm and uttered, "Shall we?"
Harry glanced at Draco, then at his kicked aside shoes and back again. He really did hate putting them on. Anywhere he could go without them was immediately intriguing. "Sure," He agreed, and wrapped his fingers around the offered appendage. He poked his head out into the storefront, spotting Neville looming over one of the large potting tables. "Neville, do you mind if I head out a bit early?"
Neville didn't respond, but he waved his hand in a vaguely dismissive manner, far too preoccupied with tending to a particularly aggressive batch of Chinese chomping cabbages that had been proving difficult to work with. Harry took it for the permission it was, and he walked with Draco towards the fireplace in their tiny staff room. He watched as Draco reached over his head to grab some floo powder off the mantle before tossing it in the flames. And despite his best efforts, he didn't hear a word of the address Draco shouted into the flames before getting pushed into them.
Harry screeched indignantly as his body swirled inside the magical fire until he stumbled out of a hearth and into an unfamiliar room. Harry staggered for a moment, propping himself up on the nearest bit of furniture he could grasp. He took a shaky breath and looked around at the décor as Draco stepped easily out of the fireplace shortly after, looking every bit as composed as ever.
It looked like they were in a small cabin. One of those old log built ones from fairy tales in muggle movies. The interior walls were stained a deep reddish-brown, accented here and there with darker rosewood tones. Harry spotted a few picture frames and curious knickknacks on shelves and mantles, as well as a cozy rug on the floor in front of a plush sofa. He could see a few entranceways leading to adjacent rooms, and across the way, on the far wall, was an open window that looked out into the surrounding forest. Harry opened his mouth and closed his eyes as the fresh air blew inside, inviting and pleasing to his soul.
It was lovely.
"This is your…estate," Harry commented in realization as Draco stepped up beside him.
"Mmm," Draco murmured. He looked down at Harry calmly, and Harry swallowed and stood up straight, wiping the remnants of soot off his robes nervously. He hadn't expected this. Finding himself in Draco's home, in the middle of his woods, on a random spring afternoon, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about it. It felt far more personal than setting foot inside his storefront in Diagon Alley. A place any wizard or witch could visit. Looking around at the carefully arranged interior of a space that Draco had made his home was far more…intimate. He wondered how many others had set foot in this place, if any? He knew it was impossible, but it certainly felt like butterflies were fluttering around inside his belly.
"Er…what was it…you needed me for?"
Draco studied him for a moment, and then he held out his hand, waiting for Harry to take hold of it. Harry grasped it carefully, and it felt as though the butterflies soared up into his throat. "It's in the forest. I'll show you the way," Draco drawled, and then he led Harry outside.
Harry could feel the change that had occurred within the Forest of Dean the moment he first stepped between the trees. Even before he'd been a fairy, he'd known things weren't quite right. That the forest had been corrupted by dark magic during the rise of Voldemort's power. Now there was a sense of peace, of balance. Whatever evil had once made this place its home was undeniably gone. And it was very clearly Draco Malfoy's territory. There were signs of wolf all along the winding pathways, remnants of fur, the scent of feral beast lingering in the air. If he hadn't been invited, he would have known not to enter this place alone and without permission.
"Wow," Harry breathed. He paused, and Draco dropped his hand, watching as Harry held his arms out and inhaled the scent of nature. He hadn't felt it quite like this before. Even his visits to various fairy enclaves hadn't allowed him such a sense of tranquility. Everything was so much stronger than before. The light breeze across his face, the rustling sound of the leaves, the hint of running water from a nearby stream. The soil was cool beneath his toes, but incredibly soothing, and the trees swayed back and forth in a gentle way that Harry was certain he felt like a dance inside his very soul.
He wanted to roll in the scattered clover, wrap himself in the underbrush and coat his skin in twigs and weeds as he edged between the roots of a tree. There was a sudden urge inside him that was incredibly difficult to fight off, and he pressed his hands against his upper chest, his fingers reaching to fiddle with the fastening of his robe. Draco tracked the movement, watching Harry carefully as he squirmed in the embrace of so much surrounding nature.
"Would you mind terribly if I…," Harry trailed off, already sliding the metal clasp apart between his fingers. He held it tightly between his hands, waiting for Draco's permission.
"Not at all."
Harry whisked the robe away from his body and Draco pulled it quickly from his grasp, folding it neatly over his arm. Harry tried not to feel especially embarrassed in those few moments before his naked form shifted into something more fae. His eagerness won over however, and Harry embraced the feeling of the gentle breeze upon his bared skin and closed his eyes, allowing himself to completely let go. The buzzing beneath his shoulder blades finally released as shimmering wings fluttered out from his back, and leaves and vines grew up from beneath his toes, encasing his body in an elegant array of decorative patterns.
Draco watched the change, a newfound wonder within his gaze. Of all the times he'd witnessed Harry pull himself away from trees and plants, shift his skin from one thing to another, he'd never seen him like this. With his wings out and shimmering, skin a swirling marble like blend of greens and blues, ears pointed and eyes alight with magic. It was as if the flowers and leaves about his form were a part of him, and when he shook out his wings, flecks of sparkling dust and dewdrops burst into the air around him.
Harry stood before Draco nervously, hands wringing together as Draco's silver gaze took in every inch of his form, pausing briefly where several leaves folded delicately down between his legs.
"I've never seen anything like this before. Like you," Draco muttered. "Even…with all the magic I've been exposed to, this is, you are…," He trailed off and never managed to finish his sentence. He swallowed and pulled his gaze up to meet Harry's glittering irises.
Harry smiled and bit down on his lower lip, ducking his head as flowers sprouted along the buds scattered about his form. He adjusted his glasses and turned away, wings fluttering out at his sides, and tried not to think about the way the twisting vines and leaves did little to hide the shape of his rear. He twisted his legs together, stretched out his calves and stood on his toes as his wings finally settled and tucked themselves away alongside his spine. At least this way he couldn't see the intensity in Draco's expression. That stare that left him frozen in anticipation. But he could still hear his voice loud and clear.
"Merlin save me," Draco blurted, little more than a faint breathy whisper, and Harry's cheeks darkened as a twig poked out of his chest and sprouted an apple in a matter of seconds. He reached out his hands to catch it as it fell. He held it in front of his chest, staring at the round fruit with wide eyes before turning around to face Draco again.
"Ah, h-here," Harry stuttered, holding it out towards Draco shakily. His arm trembled as he waited for several long seconds while Draco eyed the apple in his palm. Eventually Draco awoke from his stupor and stepped closer. He plucked the apple from Harry's grasp and bit down with a crunch, closing his eyes as the tartness washed over his tongue. He stood there, chewing slowly, then opened his eyes and lowered his hand.
"Thank you. I love apples," Draco admitted quietly, licking the juices away from his lips as his silver gaze bore into Harry's green irises. "Delicious." He grinned, and Harry ducked his head as he broke away the remnants of the twig poking out from his chest. After a fleeting glance, the two of them began trekking through the woods, and Harry skipped away between the trees rather excitedly, pressing his fingers into the trunks of each one as he tried not to become encased in their bark. Draco eyed him from the pathway, keeping pace, and pausing whenever Harry drifted off course for a little too long to keep up.
They walked across a tiny stone bridge, and Draco strayed from the dirt trail then, moving to follow the small stream as it wound its way deeper in the forest. It was there that Harry spotted them. Tiny little rings of mushrooms upshore. Hundreds of them, practically filling the clearing just beyond the trees. Harry gasped and hurried closer, stepping over the rings, ever careful not to accidentally land inside of one. He bent low, peering at the miniature pale pink mushrooms, each of them carefully dotted with white spots.
Draco caught up to him, stepping carefully between the rings as he approached Harry's side. "This…is what I wanted to show you," he mentioned. He looked down at the rings and out into the clearing in concern. "I've never seen any this small before. Or this many. I wasn't sure what to make of them. Thought you might have some idea." He shifted his weight to one leg and dragged his fingers through his loose hair. "Should I be worried?"
Harry knelt down, tucking his arms around his knees as he studied one of the rings more carefully. It was the smallest fairy ring he'd ever seen, hardly larger than his hand. He frowned and held his palm over one of them, ignoring Draco's quick gasp of air as he hovered his hand just barely atop the small mushrooms. He didn't sense anything amiss, and a moment later he pressed his palm into the centre of the ring. A shiver ran up his arm, and Harry's eyes widened before he let out a quick laugh and relaxed as he recognized the distant remnants of fae magic, familiar, but slightly different from his own.
"Ah, these are…perfectly harmless," Harry said with a nod. He lifted his hand again, turning to look out at the expanse of similar rings.
"You're certain," Draco pried, readjusting Harry's robe over his arm.
"Yep. Actually, they aren't made by fairies at all. At least, not fully grown ones, like me."
"Then what…"
Harry stood then, looking up at Draco with a soft smile. "Water sprites," he uttered. "From the river." Harry wished he could take credit for the knowledge, but Hermione was the one to thank. She'd inundated Harry with every bit of adjacent fairy knowledge she came across after his own self-discovery. And while he had learned a fair few things on his own when mingling with other fairies, his friend's eager research readily filled in any gaps, and there had been many.
"They like to nap from time to time not far away from their dwellings. These are the remnants of their bedding is all." Harry grinned lopsidedly and pressed a toe into one of the tiny mushrooms. "I do the same when I sleep sometimes. On a much larger scale," he admitted.
Draco was staring at their surroundings rather apprehensively, body tense as he continued to carefully avoid touching any of the rings. Harry sighed and stepped further into the clearing, dragging Draco along with him. When Draco stumbled, one of his feet landing inside of a small ring, he jerked away from it in a flash and glanced at Harry fearfully. Harry laughed outright as Draco's face morphed into an expression of intense dread. "Nothing bad will happen if you or another creature accidentally step into one of these. I promise. The magic has already settled. And they aren't vengeful or territorial over them once they've left. Look, you're fine," Harry swore, urging Draco to keep walking. He yanked at Draco's arms, pulling him forwards atop the grass carelessly.
"I see," Draco muttered. He stared down at the rings surrounding them and experimentally let his toes ease between a few of the mushrooms. His shoulders visibly relaxed when once again, nothing terrible immediately happened.
"It seems like they are quite happy here. They wouldn't sleep up in the foliage like this if they weren't. You're unlikely to see signs of sprites at all for the most part. They're so tiny. And they like to stay hidden. You must take good care of this forest if you've earned their trust," Harry commented.
Draco breathed in, shoulders straitening as the compliment caught him unawares. "I do my best," he uttered quietly. He eyed Harry for a moment and then lowered his chin and dropped his gaze. "I'm sorry for bothering you about this. I had heard tales. I thought I should make sure. Didn't want to accidentally find myself entrapped."
Harry hummed and kicked his feet atop the grass, pressing his fingers together behind his back. "You know, even if they were proper fairy rings, that's not always a bad thing." He circled around Draco, peering up at him through his glasses a bit mischievously.
Draco turned his head, following Harry's movements avidly. He raised an eyebrow and twisted his neck as far as he could, turning it in the opposite direction as soon as Harry began walking behind him. "Oh?"
"Mmhmm. It depends on the mushrooms, the flowers, and the energy within. The intent behind the magic. Like any magic really," Harry uttered. He stopped on Draco's right, nibbling at his lip before he shifted his feet into a particular position atop the grass. Harry watched Draco silently for a moment and made up his mind. He twisted slightly, dragging his toes out in front of him and around in a wide circle before stepping back and forth in a bit of a dance.
It was no secret that Harry was a miserable dancer. He had two left feet. But when it came to this…he knew exactly what to do. He closed his eyes, let his magic guide him, and before long, he could feel the nature around him responding in kind. Several mushrooms sprouted up from the ground along the path he charted, much larger than the ones the sprites had brought forth. They were pale purple, and blue, dotted with specks of green. The gaps between them filled with pink hyacinths, and winding catchflies, the tiny clusters of flowers sprouting up with playful pops from the ground. His body mimicked them, sprouting an array of flowers across his ankles and calves, until he was completely encased inside a completed ring, his body dusted with little blossoms that shook in the gentle breeze.
When Harry opened his eyes, he met Draco's wide-eyed gaze. He stared at Harry like he was a vision from a dream world. Mouth slightly agape, irises shifting rapidly as he took in the entirety of Harry's form and the ring that encircled him.
"Some entrapments will simply make you laugh. Others will put you into a temporary dreamlike state. And while it's true that some can be made to catch and punish vengeful humans, most, will merely encourage you to dance joyously," Harry explained. He lowered his gaze, looking down at the bed of flowers at his feet. "Like this one…," Harry trailed off. Then he reached out, holding his hand upwards just outside the outer edge of the ring.
He stood there like that for quite some time, waiting, hoping, as Draco eyed his outreached palm. After what felt like forever Draco quietly asked, "A dance for eternity would be quite detrimental to one's health, don't you think?"
Harry's hand faltered immediately and he looked back down. His arm was shaking and he grabbed hold of it and lowered it back to his side to keep it still. "It would just be for an hour or so. I wouldn't. I wouldn't make one so malevolent. You'd know. You'd scent it," Harry prattled on. And then his breathing hitched as he realized exactly what he'd done. He'd made a fairy ring, in another creature's forest. A forest that wasn't his home.
What a fool.
"I shouldn't have, I'm sorry, I can make it disappear," Harry hastily apologized. He tightened his fingers into fists and then lifted a foot, preparing to kick away the plump mushrooms and stomp the flowers back into the earth. But before he had the chance Draco stepped into the ring and grabbed hold of his waist.
"I was joking, Harry. I know you wouldn't hurt me," Draco breathed against his ear, and Harry flushed at the sound of his name on Draco's lips. He turned his nose up into Draco's chin, sensing as the magic of the ring bound Draco to him temporarily. It was dizzying, and Harry gasped as a shudder ran through his body. Draco bent down and scented him quickly, just at the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He lingered liked that, tightened his hold around Harry's waist and pulled him close. Then there was a new type of touch. A kiss, just beneath his ear. It was a sweet barely there press of lips against Harry's skin. It left him reeling, and a few stray petals blew away from his ears and into the wind.
Their bodies were already swaying together, Draco guiding him slowly inside the ring, compelled to begin to dance. Harry's wings fluttered atop Draco's knuckles, and he wondered for a moment if it was him that had been entrapped instead. He couldn't seem to look away from Draco's silver gaze. His eyes were like mercury, swirling in that magical way that spoke of an entity within that was more than human. Something wild and a little bit dangerous.
They danced together for hours, long after the mushrooms entrapping Draco popped out of existence. Until the sun was preparing to set in the sky. Harry could feel the energy thrumming between them, and a small part of him almost wished this particular entrapment had been meant to last longer. He could imagine it. Dancing here with Draco for days, months, years. Eternity, even, as Draco had suggested.
And then Draco was kissing him. Impossibly gentle, a brush of warm lips against his own, and Harry realised there was so much more fun to be had than simply dancing. Harry's arms reached up to tangle in Draco's hair, and the kiss deepened, a tongue between his lips, pointed teeth nipping at him, careful not to break the skin. It wasn't as though Draco could turn him, even if he was fully transformed, but Harry appreciated the tender touch regardless. The care he took in holding him, the restraint in his grasp. It was a kiss unlike any he'd ever experienced before. And to be fair, he hadn't experienced many, but he was certain even if he had, this would have surpassed them all.
There were clawed fingernails at his back, strong arms holding him tightly in place. A warmth against his skin. He was hoisted up, stood on his toes as Draco bent low to kiss him more insistently. One of Draco's hands wrapped around the back of Harry's neck, tilting his head to the side as he was held in place like he weighed nothing at all. Draco's eyes took on a particularly animalistic glint. His teeth sharpened to jagged points as he pulled away and panted against Harry's lips. And Harry could feel the restlessness beneath his own skin as well. The way the flowers began to bloom and cover his arms and legs. They swirled up his neck, tangled around his face, and little vines inched away from his form to wind into Draco's hair. The talisman hanging from Draco's neck knocked against Harry's throat, and he realized with a start that the sun had nearly disappeared entirely between the gaps in the trees.
Harry shuddered, and blinked his eyes clear as he remembered suddenly it was the night of a full moon.
The sun had set on the night of a full moon and he was in the middle of a werewolf's den. Kissing said werewolf. With no intention of stopping any time soon.
His fingers clenched against Draco's chest as he struggled with his desires. He didn't want to stop. Full moon be damned. He would have stood there kissing Draco until the minute he shifted given the opportunity. But eventually Draco eased away from him instead, visible regret in his longing expression. He peered out at their surroundings, eyes widening as he noticed just how close it was to moonrise.
"It's getting late. We should get you home," Draco said quickly. He lowered his arms from Harry's waist, startling as several vines wrapped around him in response, as if to prevent him from letting go. Draco plucked one of them from where it curled around a chunk of his blond hair and held it gently between his thumb and forefinger. He chuckled at the sight of it, expression softening as he gazed down at Harry. Draco bent low once more, kissing him one last time, and Harry felt a bit like he might already be home.
It was an impossible thought, and he whisked it out of his mind immediately.
They walked hand in hand back through the forest, nothing but the sound of nature to accompany their soft footfalls. When the familiar shape of Draco's cabin became visible between the trees Harry glanced at it and bit down on his lip. Draco handed him his robe and Harry pulled it over his shoulders with a grimace. After such a nice afternoon with nothing but nature's breeze upon his skin it felt like wrapping his body in sandpaper.
Once inside, Draco leaned against the edge of his fireplace, arms crossed over one another uneasily. He looked tense. His body preparing for the shift that would be taking place within the hour. "Thank you for coming today, Harry," he finally spoke.
"Thank you for…bringing me here. It's a lovely place. Enviable," Harry admitted. He stared at his fidgeting toes and then glanced up at Draco uncertainly. Draco looked as if he meant to say more, but he didn't, silently taking in Harry's form in great detail. He reached out, grabbing hold of Harry's hand and lifting it to his lips. In the wake of his kiss a rose bloomed atop Harry's hand, swirling up from his skin and Draco smiled down at the sight of it.
Harry wanted to stay. Desperately. But there were rules to forests and the creatures that inhabited them. Even the Forbidden Forest had rules, the centaurs acting as guardian to that particular realm of magical wilderness. He'd been so unaware of them as a human boy, but now…now he better understood. And he wouldn't break them here, if he could help it.
He wanted to make this forest his home. But it was Draco's territory first. And he had a responsibility to the other creatures of the forest. Harry wouldn't be able to set foot within the trees without explicit permission. Especially during a full moon when creatures with overlapping energies mingled. Unlike water sprites, fairies were rather possessive of their resting places. He could be perceived as a threat, could act as one, truthfully. Fairies too had traditions, rituals they performed beneath the light of the moon. And Harry knew he would be compelled to when the time came. He'd already overstepped his bounds by making one fairy ring. It would be a drastic misstep to intrude in this space any further with his magic. Because that was what he would be…an intruder. And making it his home…well that was an unrealistic dream.
He pulled away from Draco's grip regretfully and stepped into the floo.
Nearly three moon cycles passed before Harry saw Draco for longer than a few minutes at a time. There'd been an attack, by a few of the remaining wolves that once held allegiance with Greyback and lived by his violent teachings. An entire community was now suddenly tasked with learning to navigate lycanthropy. The Ministry of Magic had a hell of a time covering it up and keeping it secret from the muggle world, especially considering the vast majority of those affected were muggles to begin with. Draco had been brewing wolfsbane constantly, and also working with the newly turned wolves to help them with their transition and partial integration into the wizarding world.
It also meant the demand for certain herbs was suddenly incredibly high. Both Harry and Neville had been cultivating the ingredients for wolfsbane in mass quantities. Harry was up to his arms in moonwort, aconite and quicksilver on the daily, using every ounce of his fae magic to speed the process of such finicky plants.
The only time Harry saw Draco at all was when he took a quick break to drop off bundles of herbs at Enchanting Elixirs & Extracts. In those brief moments they shared quick greetings before Draco returned to monitoring the rows of steaming cauldrons he had lined up on the tables in his shop. His blond hair was always a frizzed mess from the heat. He looked wild and sexy, and Harry wanted to stay with him and watch him work, but even if he hadn't had plants to tend to, he knew he would only be a distraction. Instead he left little gifts of berries and desserts in his wake, and hoped that Draco enjoyed them when he could.
It was a Thursday afternoon when Draco poked his head inside Herbs & Gourds. The first time he'd done so in weeks. Harry was lazing in a hanging planter, feet hanging over the edges as vines twisted around his ankles and fell silkily towards the ground. He nearly fell right out at the sound of Draco's soothing voice greeting Neville, and the planter rocked back and forth as he twisted and adjusted his glasses excitedly.
Draco made his way back into the greenhouse, peering at the various plants inside calmly. Harry watched him close his eyes, breathe in deeply, and let out a relieved sigh. He tucked his hands into his pockets and moved slowly through the aisles, peering up at the rafters curiously. Harry's heart was pounding in his chest. He wanted to give himself away, but he waited patiently as Draco searched for him like he always used to.
When Draco paused beneath his planter and narrowed his eyes, Harry bit down into his lower lip a little too hard. He winced at the sudden sharp feeling and watched as Draco pondered the hanging vines before reaching up to grab one of Harry's camouflaged toes. Draco squeezed the digit gently, smirking as he tilted his head to the side. "Harry?" His tone was soft and playful, and Harry furrowed his brows as his heart welled up with overwhelming fondness for the man.
That was good enough.
Harry flipped out of the planter, letting his wings burst out from his back as soil flung out along with his movement and splattered down to the floor all around Draco. He couldn't exactly fly, but he could fall slowly, and he let himself glide down into Draco's waiting arms. Draco laughed as Harry practically knocked him off his feet and entangled himself around him like he was one of his beloved trees. Harry clung to him, pressing his face into the space beneath his neck, and as Draco's hands grasped at him and held him tightly in place Harry let out a distressed whine.
Merlin, he'd missed him.
"Harry? Is everything…alright?"
There it was again, that soft tone, a hint of concern hidden within this time as well. He didn't answer, at least not in words, and Draco's hands dragged down over the curve of his rear and up his back between his wings soothingly. The leaves and petals across Harry's body crinkled beneath Draco's touch, catching on his long fingers, and Harry shivered at the strange but welcome sensation.
When Harry pulled away it was beneath the scrutiny of Draco's searching stare. Harry smiled a bit shyly and then returned to trimming and tending to the plants while Draco accompanied him for the remainder of the day. He didn't bother to put his robe on this time, letting Draco stare at him openly as he worked. It was nice not having to hide. Not feeling ashamed, even as that gaze roamed across every inch of his form. His fingers snipped sprigs and sprouts deftly as Draco watched him in silence.
It was clear that Draco had things to say, but was unwilling to do so. And when he finally spoke his voice startled Harry, and he nearly dropped the bundle of knotgrass he was tying together. "The full moon is in a few days," Draco said, and Harry hummed quietly. Harry knew, of course, but the reminder made him notice other things in Draco, like the way he was on edge, muscles stiff, gaze a bit sharper. Harry glanced up at him briefly, and then placed his bundle in a nearby basket and began gathering together the next. "You could…spend it with me, in my forest. If you'd like."
At that Harry did fumble the knotgrass and it fell from his hands to the ground in a scattered mess. Harry flushed and hurried to gather it up, his mind racing at the suggestion. He wasn't expecting Draco to bend low in front of him and reach out to lift his lowered chin. Harry's heart stuttered in his chest, and his gaze shifted from Draco's steely eyes to the other end of the greenhouse where Neville was doing an awful job of pretending like he wasn't listening as he unpacked a box of seeds.
Harry swallowed, once again meeting Draco's gaze. "You don't have to…you're not teaching the new wolves?" he asked.
"They don't need me anymore. They have a pack leader now. And a good understanding of how to handle the change," Draco explained, and his grip on Harry's chin loosened, his fingers moving to cup the edge of his jaw instead. "Besides, I've been neglecting my forest," he admitted. He grimaced slightly and tucked a strand of hair behind Harry's ear. "I thought your fairy magic might help settle the trees. And perhaps me…as well."
Harry's eyes widened and his hands trembled slightly, the knotgrass rustling between his shaking fingers. He smiled shyly and nodded, trying to keep himself from doing something even more embarrassing, like cry. It would be an honour to spend the full moon in the trees of Draco's forest. "I-if you're sure," Harry stuttered.
Draco relaxed slightly and reached out to grab one of his hands. He tugged it close, and then kissed over Harry's knuckles before leaning in to press a chaste kiss against his lips.
"I am," Draco murmured against him. "I want you there with me."
Harry closed his eyes and breathed in Draco's earthy scent, the knotgrass all but forgotten as he relaxed in his hold, and the absolute cluster of pink dandelion puffs that floated out from his body took them the rest of the day to tidy, even with Neville's help.
On the evening of the full moon Harry took the floo to Draco's cabin and found him standing at the window looking quite restless. Harry understood. He could feel the moon's energy pulsing in his own veins, beckoning him out into the wilderness to become at peace with his magic. Harry quickly set out the dinner he'd prepared, and the two of them sat and ate, enjoying his cooking together for once. Draco complimented Harry with every bite, and devoured it like a starving man, and as the sun began its descent the two of them set out their wands side by side for safe keeping before making their way into the forest.
"I've missed it here," Harry commented as his feet trudged through the underbrush, lifting leaves and dirt with his toes. Autumn was approaching, and soon the forest floor would be completely covered in dried reds and oranges as the trees began to shed. Harry wondered what it might feel like to roll around in the leaf piles and snuggle beneath the warmth of their embrace.
"You're welcome here any time, Harry," Draco insisted, and Harry flushed at the implication.
"That's…very kind of you."
Their hands slotted together tightly, and Draco's thumbs rubbed across Harry's knuckles slowly. His claws had started to grow, inching longer over the edges of his fingertips. Soft tufts of grey fur were poking out from beneath his sleeves, and Harry peered up at him cautiously, watching as his muscles shifted with every stiff movement.
Draco looked up at the sky and twisted his neck in a strange stretch. "I need to get ready," he growled, baring visibly sharpened teeth as his breathing became heavier. "Make yourself at home amongst the trees." Then he leaned down to whisper in Harry's ear. "Have your dances. Create your rings. I'll find you after I've done my run." Draco kissed him once, slow and demanding, his arms holding Harry tightly in place. Harry was certain he wouldn't have been able to move had he wanted to. The sudden strength was unreal. As Draco broke away Harry panted slightly and stared into his swirling silver eyes. He wondered briefly what they would look like, after the shift. Would there be recognition? Or would all hint of humanity disappear to that of the wolf? Harry understood that wolfsbane prevented Draco from becoming a mindless killer, but he couldn't help but wonder how much of Draco would still be overtaken by the change.
"Promise not to eat me?" Harry gasped, and Draco nipped teasingly at his lips, claws poking into the tender skin of his wrists.
"I guess it depends on how tasty you look," Draco hissed. He pulled away quickly, took a final longing glance at Harry's fairy form, and dashed away into the trees. And just in the nick of time too. Harry's wings fluttered behind him, buzzing at his back as the moon appeared from behind a cluster of clouds in the sky. He heard a strangled howl somewhere in the distance not long after, and shivered, listening as the forest embraced the many creatures of the night. Harry sighed as the breeze brushed against his skin, rustling the leaves atop his body. He held his arms out at his sides for a moment, letting the magic of the moon settle his soul.
He was suddenly elated. And he laughed joyously and jumped and ran over tree roots, hurrying beneath branches as he searched for somewhere to begin his rituals. The textures across his skin shifted, ever changing as he twirled atop the forest floor. It was so different at Grimmauld Place. Where he couldn't run or feel the call of the trees. This felt heavenly. Breathing in the evening air, beneath the late summer's moon, in the heart of a true forest. There was the sound of river water flowing nearby, and the leaves swishing in the trees. He could hear owls hooting as they hunted for midnight meals, and deer hooves bouncing over rocks as they jumped away in their herds.
Harry left hundreds of fairy rings in his wake. Nothing frightful. Just spaces for the other creatures of the forest to find joy and happiness throughout the night. To perhaps make their resting place when they grew weary. He placed a few protective rings at various pathways on which he sensed potential danger, ensuring the rest of the forest wildlife would remain safe from intruders. And he added the odd playful one here and there, for brief dances and moments of fun. He could feel the forest relaxing with each addition. Sighing and swaying with him in approval and acceptance.
He was deep within the forest when he began to tire, and he found a clearing that called to him. He summoned a ring of resting from the ground easily, spacious and welcoming. The mushrooms that sprouted at his sides were soothing, and the bed of flowers in the centre was soft and comfortable. Harry closed his eyes as he sat cross legged in the middle, not quite ready to lie down and sleep. He waited patiently, peering out between the trees in anticipation.
Soon, he thought. He could sense it. Draco was near. The trees whispered as he moved between them, and Harry listened to their creaking song. He twisted his head as soft footfalls padded into the clearing, revealing the hulking form of a feral wolf. It was most certainly Draco. He was massive like this, silvery grey with patches of white, and eyes just as intriguing as ever. His talisman dangled atop the thick mane of fur beneath his jaw, reflecting light as it swayed with each forward step. Harry was surprised at his beauty. A true dire wolf. Ethereal, and very clearly entrenched in wild magic. Far from the terrifying visage he'd come to expect.
Harry's previous encounters with werewolves had not been so pleasant. He recalled the distorted figure of Professor's Lupin's transformation, the way his limbs had seemed unruly and disjointed, as though meant for a body not their own. Then there were the brief and terrifying interactions with Greyback, who even in his human form was more beast than man, lacking the majestic qualities he saw in the wolf standing before him now. Draco, was perfect.
Harry stared at him, watched him approach, the heavy footfalls leaving imprints in the grassy forest floor. Unconsciously Harry tugged his wings around his body, letting the moonlight glitter off them and illuminate his surroundings. It was not the first time he'd shown his wings to Draco, but they were different now, shining with their own constellations of stars beneath the night's sky. His skin mirrored them, taking on an otherworldly glint as the colours ever shifted over his form like clusters of galaxies. The full moon was very special to many creatures. And he happened to be one of them.
Draco paused just outside the fairy ring, lowering his head to sniff the ground as silver eyes stared up at Harry's naked form. He waited there, and Harry smiled gently. Like the way the forest belonged to Draco, this ring, this resting place, was Harry's, and Draco wouldn't enter it without permission.
"You are a beautiful wolf, Draco," Harry uttered. Then he let go of his wings and reached out, beckoning Draco to join him. Draco stepped into the ring slowly, circling Harry as he sniffed the air and familiarized himself with the space. His nose pressed into Harry's sides, dragging up over his shoulder before knocking into his temple. There was a low rumble of greeting, and Harry shivered as a long wet tongue ran out and over his cheek, grazing the edge of his lips teasingly. Harry laughed and reached up to curl his fingers in the thick fur of Draco's neck. There was blood there, and Harry frowned and inspected the area but found no wound. He'd been hunting. It wasn't his. Harry sighed in relief and nuzzled against Draco's snout.
His eyes began to droop and Harry pulled away. It was nearing morning. Time for rest. Harry rolled around in the surrounding flowers, making his bed amongst the fauna, and he grinned as Draco settled down near him, inside his cocoon of nature. Draco was warm, and safe, and everything Harry's magic wanted and needed, and Harry curled into his fur and let the last moments with the moon guide him into pleasant dreams.
It was perhaps the most restful night of his entire life. Since the war his dreams were more often nightmares. But Harry slept long and well, tucked into the comfort of Draco's body. He woke to sunlight cascading through the trees above and Draco hovering over him in his human form. Harry yawned and looked up at him with sleepy eyes. He was always a little lethargic after a full moon. But on this morning he was still thrumming with energy despite it. Draco smelled woodsy. Like nature. And he looked as if he'd rolled in the leaves for hours. His hair was sticking out at random angles, twigs and dirt caught inside the silky strands. His hands roamed Harry's form and he leaned down and kissed him almost urgently. Harry melted into it, reaching up to touch Draco's toned chest. He was naked too, and when their lips parted Harry stared at him openly.
Draco's fingers fiddled with the loose leaves encasing Harry's waist teasingly, and then slid beneath a few, pulling them back to reveal Harry's visible arousal. Harry flushed deeply, but he parted his legs, letting Draco slot himself between them and slide down the length of his body. They shared a searching stare, and then Harry nodded once, before Draco lowered his head to sniff and scent Harry between his legs. He breathed in, licked him once teasingly, and Harry gasped and threw his head back atop the grass. He writhed as Draco's breath tickled between his thighs, his tongue dragging farther and farther back between them. Harry's toes curled as he let out a moan as Draco practically devoured him right there atop the grass.
He was a mess. Wet and leaking, leaves curling away from his body as if waiting for a spring rain. Then Draco eased himself up on his knees and grabbed hold of Harry's feet, teasing his soles as his cock slotted over Harry's achingly.
They'd never done anything like this before, but it felt right. More than right. In fact, Harry couldn't imagine sharing this part of himself with anyone other than Draco. It was too…intimate. Too personal. Even if he'd been willing to reveal his entire fairy side to another, there was something so special about this moment in nature, within the boundaries of Draco's forest, the morning after a full moon. It was entirely unique to them.
"I'm going to make love to you," Draco hissed, and Harry shuddered as Draco reached between their bodies and readjusted himself to slide between the crease of Harry's rear.
"Yes, alright, that…mm," Harry breathed. Then Draco bent over him, and kissed him, long and languidly. He spread Harry's legs farther apart, pressed his fingers into the flowers and leaves that offered him the barest amount of cover and moved them aside, before sinking inside of him like he was meant to be there all along. "Ah, Draco."
It was messy and wild. Animalistic. They were covered in loose soil and leaves, they smelled of the woods and earth, and everything nature, and Harry loved every second of it. The bed of flowers beneath him bloomed and evolved, sprouting up around his head like a halo. Mushrooms and flowers sprouted up from the ground, rebuilding the circle about their forms, and Draco's fingers pressed atop Harry's hands, claws inching into the soil as he slid in and out of his body rhythmically. He practically flattened himself against Harry, became one with him atop the forest floor, and Harry gasped and wrapped his arms and legs around him in return.
Everything faded out around him, his senses overwhelmed as he lost all capability of coherent thought. He couldn't hear, his vision greyed, and Draco's touch upon his skin was the only thing that made any sense at all. Harry focused on it, zeroed in on the press of thumbs against his thighs, the slowing of his thrusts as they finished and their movements slowed. The tender kisses across his cheeks, the gentle grip cradling his head as soothing fingers brushed away his hair. He was shaking, and Draco was whispering against his ear, and all at once everything cleared, and it was far too much. He could hear what felt like every sound of the forest, and his nerve endings were on fire. But Draco guided him back down from the high, played with his toes and stroked his sides, until he settled atop the grass with a sigh.
It was raining. A warm summer sprinkle, and Harry blinked away the droplets that clung in his lashes as he looked up into Draco's comforting gaze. He didn't much want to move, and he was thankful when Draco eased down beside him and held their sticky bodies tightly together. The rain pattered atop them, a welcome cleanse upon their skin, and Harry peered up at Draco when he managed to finally take control of his own limbs. He shifted free of Draco's hold, propped himself atop Draco's body, and bent his knees so he could kick his feet slowly in the air. Draco stared up into his eyes in return, fingers grazing his fluttering wings. Harry was still sticky with sweat and other fluids, but couldn't be bothered to do anything about it. Not with Draco's body heat keeping him warm and cozy, or while those fingers caressed his hips, and waist, and finally settled atop the swells of his rear.
Draco peered out at the fairy ring around them, pressed his toes into one of the spongy mushrooms and watched it spring back into place, and for the first time Harry really noticed their surroundings. The cluster of mushrooms came in varying shades of green this time, with black dots and silver streaks running up the stems. They looked rather poisonous, but Harry knew they would be harmless to any who did not intend them harm. Between the mushrooms and surrounding their bodies was an assortment of flowers, colourful and springy, and at full bloom.
"I rather like what you've done to the place…but what exactly are these ones for? It's changed since last night," Draco mentioned, gesturing towards the large and much more elaborate ring around them. There was an intricate array of things aside from the usual mushrooms, including clusters of calla lilies, blackthorn, and bellflowers, almost like they had burst forth from the ground as bouquets. Draco poked at another mushroom near his shoulder, chuckled as it bounced, and then picked one of the myrtle berries dangling just above his head.
Harry glanced to the side, and ducked his head in realization. He'd been so sated and enamoured he'd hardly even noticed what he'd done. His heart rate increased, and he willed himself to hold off the panic that immediately welled inside his chest.
"Erm…w-well…," Harry trailed off. How could he explain it? Without Draco justifiably running as far from him as possible in disgust. How could he possibly tell him that his innermost fairy had determined there was no better match, that for eternity, Draco was it? The one. His soulmate.
Oh merlin.
"M-marriage, I suppose," Harry gushed sheepishly. He lowered his face, pressing his nose into Draco's chest as he avoided his gaze. He felt the sudden intake in air beneath his chin, caught sight of Draco's eyes widening out of the corner of his own as he looked down at Harry in surprise, and Harry withered and bit at his lower lip. "But it's…more complicated than that. It's kind of maybe forever. It's…a binding ring," Harry admitted under his breath. His wings fluttered anxiously and sagged as he silently berated himself for being so reckless. He knew fairy magic had the potential to be dangerous. To be considered…dark. And what was darker than binding another forcefully to your body and soul.
Harry remembered the brief moment of hesitation Draco had upon even entering one of his less harmful fairy rings. One for dancing and joy. How would he feel about this? Knowing that Harry had violated the trust placed in him, that he'd done something so…lasting, so permanent, without even batting an eye.
Draco would understand what it meant, he had no doubt. And there was no way he'd forgive him for it.
"Fuck I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…," Harry blurted. His fingers tightened against Draco's sides, and his chest tightened as he felt his breathing begin to quicken. "I mean, if it's not what you want then…what am I saying, of course it's not what…well I didn't mean to without asking…that is, I'm sure we could find a way to reverse it if…I'll just talk to Hermione, we'll figure something out-"
"Harry," Draco spoke, soft and gentle, not laced with the anger he was expecting, and he startled as strong fingers dragged through his curls and settled at the nape of his neck. He was shaking again, this time out of fear and in the throes of an impending panic attack. Draco's touch brought him back, and he waited patiently as Harry calmed enough to relax back atop him. "Marriage sounds perfect," Draco whispered into his hair, and Harry gasped slightly, and shifted to meet his gaze. "And yes, I know it's…more involved than that, before you start to worry. I know what a binding ring is." Draco pulled him up his body then, grasped the sides of his face and kept him from looking away. "And I also know they occur very rarely, when two separate souls are meant to become one," Draco added.
Harry let Draco pull his head down, let him kiss his lips and tangle their legs together. He felt the stirrings of arousal once again in his groin, Draco's answering hardness, and he flushed and cried out as he was flipped down on his back in the grass. Draco pressed a knee between his legs, drawing out a moan, and then he was kissing him again, fingers dragging over his skin as blossoms sprouted up in their wake. "My wolf is very happy," Draco breathed against his lips. He thrust down into Harry intently and paused as their hardened cocks slid together between their bodies. "You understand, don't you?"
Harry shuddered and nodded his head hastily. Perhaps…perhaps he was Draco's soulmate as well. His wolf's intended. The one he wanted as his life partner. "And…are you? The...the not wolf part I mean," Harry asked quietly.
Draco's eyes widened slightly at the question and his brows furrowed. He looked younger like that, like a disgruntled version of his childhood self. But the emotions in his gaze were not the same ones of their hostile school days. And as their naked bodies shifted together Harry was reminded of how very different the Draco of today was from the Draco of his past. How very different he was as well.
"Didn't I tell you that I'm at peace with my wolf?" Draco sighed, his expression morphing into something fonder. His fingers found their home in Harry's hair, forearms braced against the ground as he hovered over Harry's form. "Yes Harry. I'm also, very happy," he confessed. Harry breathed in quickly, and blinked up at him in disbelief. Draco's fingers inched further into Harry's curls, and then he tilted his head forward, letting several loose strands of blond hair dangle over Harry's nose. "But I do think we should have a proper ceremony. Mother would be so disappointed to find out we've eloped," Draco said with a smirk. Harry grinned at him almost blindingly, wings shimmering as they buzzed and fought for freedom between his back and the ground. Tulips and daisies sprouted up from the surrounding grass, along with enough berries to feed them for a week if they ever took the time to gather them.
Draco chuckled as he nibbled on a few, and then rubbed their noses together before pressing a kiss to the end of Harry's. He chewed away on the berry between his teeth, studied Harry fondly, and then pressed another soft kiss against his lips. "I'm going to carry you back to the cabin. I'm going to lay you down in my blankets. And I'm going to make love to you again and again until you and I are more than satisfied. Then, when we're sated, exhausted, and showered, we'll settle into bed, and nap away the rest of the day. How does that sound?"
"That sounds…wonderful."
Draco hummed in agreement, and Harry let him lift him from the ground and carry him home. When Draco placed him onto a comfy pile of blankets in the middle of his bedroom Harry couldn't help but take in the adornments on the shelves and walls. They were surrounded by plants and bundles of flowers. Great vines that hung down from planters in the ceiling, and coated the walls. It was clear that Draco had planned for this. Had…put them there in anticipation. All for Harry. He let Draco press down atop him, melted against his lips, and he spread his legs apart and gasped as Draco flipped him over on his hands and knees, easing inside of him to lay his own claim.
What a strange twist of fate it was to wake up and find oneself a fairy. But what an even stranger twist of fate it was to have Draco bloody Malfoy for a soulmate.
Destiny? Certainly not. But in the wise words of the brightest witch of their age…it really was bound to happen, all along. And Harry wouldn't have it any other way.
AN: Thanks so much for reading this little fairy tale. Hope you all enjoyed it. I've got a lot of plans for Drarry oneshots in the works as well as multi chapter fics. Hopefully I can find the time to work on them all. Oh and if you'd like, you can follow me on tumblr under shinigami714, and I just recently opened a twitter fandom account as well under shinigami714fic (can you believe someone else took my screen name?). I'd love to find fellow Drarry shippers, and well any shippers who share interests with me. As always, comments are greatly appreciated. Have yourself a wonderful day!
For those who don't know me I love using plant symbolism, and symbolism in general. Sometimes I also just throw whatever into the mix because it feels right, but here are a few things that were intentional if you're interested.
Daffodil: New beginnings
Five Petaled Lilac: Good luck, tranquility
Lavender: Serenity, calmness, devotion
Coriander: Lust
Pink Hyacinth: Playfulness, joy
Catchflies: Seeking a dance/love
Pink Dandelion: Joy, affection
Calla Lily: Life, fertility, beauty, union
Blackthorn: Fate, protection, binding
Bellflowers: Unwavering love
Myrtle: Good luck and love in marriage
Tulips: Unconditional love
Daisies: New beginnings