My Dear Volaticus
by kittenvks
Disclaimer: I own nothing
warnings: HPDM, slash, yaoi, homosexuality. Don't like it? Don't read it. Flamers to the left.
Chapter Nine: This is Wrong
Harry slipped through the portrait guarding Draco's room quietly, closing it behind him but not before he told it not to let anyone at all in except for Lucius and professors, even if they had the password. Just as Blaise had thought, all the lights were off- the fire dying down to embers. Draco was most likely in his room asleep. Harry waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness before carefully circumnavigating the room, making sure Draco wasn't asleep on any of the furniture. Of course, he wasn't. Malfoy's probably didn't do that either. He slowly opened the door to the bedroom and paused half way to the bed.
Draco was there, sleeping soundly, a picture clutched in one of his hands. His dark gray wings were splayed out all around him and he wore nothing but pajama bottoms. Harry felt unsure now, what was he supposed to do? He'd just done all this on instinct, no real plan. He began to panic, backing toward the door quietly when one of Draco's wings lifted a bit, shifting as if it were waiting for him. Harry rolled his eyes, maybe they did have a mind of their own. Draco would surely be cursing them if he were awake.
"Shhh, you'll wake him." Harry whispered at it and it just stayed still. He quickly realized how ridiculous he sounded, talking to feathers like Draco did. They obviously worked off of Draco's subconscious which- on some level- realized he was there. Sighing, Harry felt the exhaustion creeping over him as the fear ebbed away but he still stood there, admiring the picture.
Draco didn't want him to be the boy who lived, he was just Harry. Not Potter, or anything else, just Harry. Draco and Harry, as he had said. He didn't expect Harry to stand up for him, to protect him. Draco protected Harry, he cared for him. That was the difference in Draco and the others. Sometimes, Harry realized, it was nice to be the one who was being saved. Draco wasn't overly dominant or submissive. He didn't beg or plead or command. He was just Draco, as he had always been. He was still Harry's constant. He didn't lavish him with gifts and embarrass him, didn't draw loads of attention to him. Harry didn't want that attention either. Draco had to be the one, his Volaticus. Lucius' cold words still rang through his head and he felt ashamed of himself for not understanding.
Still, the fact remained that he hadn't known. Hadn't realized. He had the option to learn but had ignored it. The doubt and fear and anxiety still remained. He wasn't ready for sex. Draco hadn't offered. Was he waiting for Harry? Or was he just not attracted to him? Hermione had said they didn't have to be mates, hadn't she? How did Draco feel about all of this? Sighing, Harry realized that the Hermione was coming out in him, he couldn't very well do anything or find any answers standing here looking at a sleeping Draco. No, that wasn't logical, it made no sense. The wing remained there, frozen in the air, offering an embrace. Had they grown? They certainly looked larger...again, he was distracting himself from the problem at hand. He began to debate sleeping on the couch and scowled at himself.
Afterall, Draco wasn't Seamus. Draco wasn't Nott. Draco was a Malfoy, a gentleman in the bedroom. Draco wouldn't hurt him, Draco would defend him. These thoughts felt right, finally, and Harry crossed the room to the bed. He could have sworn he saw the feathers on Draco's single poised wing fluff slightly but he couldn't be sure. He carefully removed the picture from Draco's hand. A picture of Draco as a baby, because he didn't have a child and the other person in the picture had to be Lucius. He was sitting in a chair that looked a lot like a throne, scowling down at some important looking documents on the desk in front of him. His huge black wings were poised behind him and a very young Draco, about two years old, was hanging from the feathers, occasionally trying to put them in his mouth. Harry smiled. The picture perfectly grasped the relationship Draco had with Lucius.
Harry quietly set the picture on the nightstand and gazed down at the sleeping Volaticus. He slept soundly and Harry wondered if that was normal or if it was just because there was no potential threat in the room. Bandages wound around Draco's right shoulder, spotted just slightly with blood. Harry winced. He'd gotten that wound for him. His left arm was stretched out on a pillow, unmarred by the Dark Mark or any other symbol. Harry glanced again at the wings he adored so much, still awaiting him loyally, and then down at the pillow he still grasped in his hand. Of course the pillow had been a ridiculous thought and he promptly discarded it on the floor, trying his best to be stealthy and not wake the blonde as he crawled into the soft bed with him.
Laying next to Draco gave Harry a strong sense of safety, of freedom. He hadn't felt either of those things in a long time. The wing closest to him immediately seemed to fold over him like a blanket, pulling him gently into Draco's warm body. Harry curled into the embrace, entertwining one of his legs with Draco's. Draco shifted, humming slightly, and wrapped his arms posessively around Harry, nuzzling his face into Harry's black hair.
"Harry," he said, his voice throaty and quiet, still not quite awake. Then, realizing that he really was wound around Harry Potter, Draco's wings stiffened into their tell tale blades, and he snarled, rising to glance around into the darkness. Harry lay still, watching Draco closely now. He was in defense mode, trying to find something to attack- anything that threatened them. Soon, he relaxed, his wings softening.
"Harry? What are you doing here? What's wrong?" he asked, concern evident in his voice, his mercury eyes searching over Harry for any wounds or injuries of any kind.
"This, all of this is wrong. All of it. This is wrong and I hate it Draco, I hate it." Harry said, nuzzling into Draco's chest and feeling like he might actually cry. He felt Draco tense up, when he had never done that before and he sniffled, fighting the urge to cry again.
"If it's so wrong, Harry, why are you here? In my bed? In my rooms?"
"Because you're not wrong. Seamus is wrong, Nott is wrong. All my friends are wrong, all of it. Not you though Draco. I'm sorry. I am so sorry... I- I didn't realize..." he choked on the last of his words and decided to not speak, to just calm himself for a moment before speaking again. Draco seemed to sense this and remained quiet, waiting. Finally, Harry managed to speak again, "I've just been so frustrated and frightened. I kissed Seamus, just to see what would happen. It was wrong too, very wrong. So I ran to my bed and I lay there and I thought of you and your kiss felt right. Then, Seamus came up, pretended to be asleep. He was in my bed the morning after I sent you that letter. Wouldn't go away. He locked the curtains. Y-your father, Hermione found him. And Snape. They saved me. She was going for you but found them. Because she knows, she always knows things like this. It's always been about you, since we found you on the Pitch. I think I knew then. I'm sorry, Draco. I just don't... I don't see things like some people do. You have to point them out sometimes."
"He was in your bed? Without your permission?" Draco growled, pulling Harry closer instinctively. Harry nodded,
"Yeah and I thought he might do it again. So I just ran. I came here, because you're safe Draco. Don't be mad at him. He explained it to me. It's like some desperate drive to shag me or something... he couldn't help it." Draco only hummed in response, his body still not completely relaxed.
"I can't help but be agitated with him, Harry, it's in the Volaticus nature. Like... in Potions." he said finally, his voice low and soothing.
"I'm sorry about that too, Draco, I really am. I was frightened. Hermione tried to tell me it was a huge insult to you but I ignored her. Your Father... he mentioned it too. I'm still kind of cold inside from the tongue lashing he gave me."
"He did? When, after I left?" Harry nodded, snickering a bit,
"he's a very intimidating person. I didn't know it was wrong Draco, I wasn't trying to hurt you, I saw Snape with his wand and thought he was going to turn it on you. It scared me."
"Severus is my Godfather, Harry, he'll not hurt me. You don't have to worry about me."
"That's what I like about you, Draco. You don't want me to come sweeping in and save you, you're not stalking me or damn near humping my leg. You don't back down from me either though. You're just Draco, still a constant for me. Just different now... I just want to be us again, can we do that? Just Draco and Harry? Forgive me?"
"Of course, mon amour, I do and we can. I would do anything for my amesouer," Draco damn near purred, his wing stroking the bare skin down Harry's arm. Harry reached out and touched the bandages he could feel against his forehead.
"I'm so sorry, Draco. What did I say? I mean, can you make it simpler... how it sounded?"
"Telling me he could have hurt me... it's like saying his... bits, are bigger or better than mine. Like he's better in bed." Draco replied softly, his fingers curling gently through Harry's hair, lulling the shorter man to sleep.
"That's *hardly* what I meant. I was merely concerned for your safety. I've never seen your bits or his. Nor have I slept with either of you. I'm sorry, Draco."
"It's fine," Draco whispered, his voice quieter than before. Harry wondered if he was falling asleep, even though his fingers never slowed, twisting in Harry's dark mop of hair.
"Draco?"
"Hmmmm?"
"Are you... are you not attracted to me like the others are?" Harry was glad it was dark and Draco couldn't see the blush he knew he was sporting. It made it easier to talk. Draco stiffened and Harry swallowed hard, had he offended him? Was he right, and Draco didn't see him that way?
"What kind of question is that, Harry, really? You think I'm not attracted to you?"
"Well... I mean, I don't know..." Harry mumbled, blushing harder and wishing he hadn't asked.
"Why? Because I don't force myself on you like the others? That's terribly uncouth, not befitting of a Malfoy. It's unbefitting of yourself as well, Harry."
"So... then you are?" Harry asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. Draco growled and thrust his hips forward against Harry's thigh, he hadn't been touching him like that before and Harry suddenly realized that Draco was hard, very hard, and very attracted to him. He gasped a bit, revelling in it for a moment. "oh."
"Yes. Oh. Quite." Draco whispered, sounding slightly pained, "I find you very attractive. I've nearly run Hogwarts out of cold water with all the showers I've taken since this started."
Harry tried to calm his beating heart, quell his own growing erection, and stop the hitch in each breath he was taking. Draco just sighed, moving himself back a bit and Harry found that he rather missed the connection.
"I'm not ready for sex, Draco. I- I've never... done it."
Draco sat straight up at that, staring down at him in disbelief.
"You've never had sex? Ever?" he asked, looking suspicious.
"Never. Not once." Harry whispered, pulling Draco's wing up over his red face and merely peering at him over the top of the downy feathers. Draco rolled his eyes and pulled his wing back, lowering it down over Harry's abdomen and looking down at him adoringly.
"I...I think I need a shower..." Draco said finally, gazing over Harry's body as his wings shifted, as if they were breathing over Harry's skin. He wondered if Draco's feathers would betray him and let him know that Harry really needed one too, he didn't move though, just sat there, gazing at Harry. The raven haired boy just squirmed under the intense gaze, sliding the wing back up to envelope him in safety and cover him. Draco allowed it this time, smirking.
"I could... uh, help you. If you want?" Harry offered with a squeak from beneath the feathers. Draco groaned, flopping down on the bed and scooting himself beneath the wing as well. He sighed, his hand reaching out to carress the side of Harry's face.
"We can not do that, mon amour, not until you've made your decision."
"What is that? Mon amour?" Harry asked, realizing that it wasn't what Draco had called him before. Draco leaned down, placing a soft and chaste kiss on Harry's jaw line.
"My love."
"Youloveme?" Harry squeaked. Draco just nodded,
"I think I have for quite some time," he whispered.
"What if I've already made my decision? I told you, they're all just... wrong. You're right. I want you, Draco. My Volaticus, my Draco, mon amour... whatever. All of it."
"There are traditions, Harry," Draco said, his voice cracking a bit as he paused to regain some of the famous Malfoy composure, "we cannot make love to eachother."
"Oh tradition can take a leap right now!" Harry cried out, shoving Draco's wing off of him and rolling over to straddle the other man's hips, grinding his own throbbing erection into him to show him how much he found him attractive. Draco cried out, his wings arching up and over the headboard, his hands shooting up to grasp Harry's hips.
"We... we have to do things right, or it won't work, when we do. We won't bond properly, Harry, mon amour... please," Draco whispered, his hips arching up despite him, his eyes closed. Harry's fingers ghosted over the waist band of Draco's pajama bottoms, the fingertips hooking into them. He didn't go further though and Draco squirmed.
"What if it's not sex, Draco, I want to show you how sorry I am. I want to show you how serious I am. I've made up my mind. I only want you, just you."
"A lot of things come to mind, mon amour, and I'm not sure if it would affect the bond. I'm not willing to risk it. I want our first time together, to be perfect. I want you now, I do. You're driving me wild, but it's not the right time." Draco whispered. Harry sighed and flopped down next to him, his leg draped over Draco's and his arm crossed possessively over his chest. Beneath him was one of Draco's wings, curling up around them, joining the other like a blanket. Both of their straining erections seemed to calm now, realizing that it had been a false alarm, that nothing was going to happen.
Warm and contented, feeling safe, Harry's eyes began to droop after just a few minutes of laying there. They were both comfortable not speaking, just listening to each other breathe.
"Draco?" Harry mumbled, shifting around a bit.
"Hmmm?"
"I think I love you," Harry whispered, his eyes nearly almost closed, just a shimmer of green beneath the lashes.
"I love you too, Harry," Draco whispered back as he drifted back into his own sleep.
When Harry awoke the next morning it was only because he was cold. Glaring at the only window in the room, he realized it was still early morning and he had no intention of getting up. Something inside him registered that he was cold because Draco was gone but he didn't care. The bed reaked of the Slytherin, of vanilla and mint and the smell of the potions lab. Harry sank down beneath the soft downy covers. They weren't wings, but they'd serve their purpose. Grabbing his glasses he shoved them on his face, glancing around the room at everything Draco. There was a small fireplace in the corner, the fire crackling but not producing nearly enough heat to warm the room. On the mantle were different pictures and Harry made a mental note to look at them later. On the night stand were several other pictures, including the one he'd seen last night of Lucius and Draco. Draco still looking every bit as adorable, his fat cheeks full of feathers; Lucius still blatantly concentrating on the work ahead.
Another picture portrayed two different photos, a very young Lucius, his hair much longer than Draco's, standing with a much younger Severus Snape. Neither looked nearly as hardened as they did now, though their general demeanor was the same. They couldn't have been but just barely graduated. Both of them stood as straight as a pin, neither smiling. As Harry watched, they merely turned to look at each other and smirk. The wind blowing their robes and hair around were the only other signs that the portrait moved. The companion picture was of Draco around first year, with Blaise. Both had on their Slytherin robes, both sitting in a tree limb somewhere. They sat opposite of each other, drawing their wands and casting a spell at each other. Harry couldn't help but grin at the mischievious looks on their faces. The last picture showed a much older man, his face a bit more square than Lucius, his nose much longer, but still just as straight. His eyes were such a light blue that they took Harry back a bit, they were nearly clear. Icy. He sat in a high backed chair that Harry recognized to be the same chair, or a twin set, to the one Lucius sat in in Draco's baby picture. Lucius stood beside him, one hand going up to rest on the back of the chair, the other going to rest on the top of a roughly eight year old Draco's head. Draco was just looking up at the camera when the picture was taken- his eyes first only focused on the cane that the older man held. The same snake headed cane that Lucius carried now, Harry was sure of that much. The man seemed to notice, in the picture, that the pose had been ruined by Draco's movement and was moving to smirk at the child. On the tapestry moving flowing softly behind them was a large crest, vines coming out from it with lots of little pictures Harry couldn't make out. He assumed it was a family tapestry, like what Sirius had. Which meant that the crest was the Malfoy family crest and the older man was Abraxas Malfoy. Harry shivered. He'd heard stories about him before, ruthless and cold. He couldn't picture Draco ever being that way, ever looking like the elder Malfoy's in the photo.
Draco waltzed in then, looking awfully proud of himself and having not made a sound on the way up the stairs. In his hands he carried a tray of food, several rolls of parchment, and a green looking stick. Harry pulled himself up, grinning.
"Good morning, mon amour, I've brought us breakfast. Bacon, eggs, and scones- with pumpkin juice." Draco greeted him, sitting down rather gracefully despite the piles of things in his arms.
"Good morning," Harry replied, reaching for the tray to help him. Draco allowed him, grinning like a fool. Harry recognized the grin as the same one he wore in the picture with Blaise. "Hmm Draco, have you been up to something?"
"Who, moi? No. I wouldn't dare. Maybe. Okay, stop looking at me like that. There may have been an incident this morning. Your Weasley's were flipping out, threatening Nott within an inch of his life. He was leaving, by the way, got expelled because it turned out he purposefully blew up the cauldrons in class. The Finnigan boy was with them, appeared to have been a bit roughed up. Hermione was there but just standing back watching. Anyway, the Weasley's- they were threatening to skin him alive and the gist of the entire thing is that you were missing and no one could find you. They were all sorts of torn up about it, having believed Nott or Finnigan to do something. I couldn't resist you see, I walked up and let them know that you were fine. In my rooms. Asleep. In my bed. Then I strolled off, and Hermione called after me, and I let her know I was just getting your breakfast. She found the entire thing terribly funny. Weasel...not so much, but he let Nott go."
"I get the feeling that's not all of it," Harry said, biting into a scone and watching the blonde carefully.
"Fine. Finnegan and Nott may have looked rather crestfallen. It pleased me."
"And?" Harry asked, chewing thoughtfully.
"And you're sick, have a terrible cold. That's what I told Trelwaney. She had forseen it, gave me your homework assignment and wished you a peaceful death by the way. Terrible disease, took you away an hour ago. I'm in mourning."
"You got me out of Divination? Oh bless you Draco! Oh... wait... she foretold my death. An hour ago. Still gave you assignments for me?" he asked, rolling his eyes, "looney old bat."
"Indeed. Also, my gift for you has arrived," Draco replied, holding out the green stick thing. Harry took it, eyeing it over as Draco pulled a vase from his inner robe pocket and, using his hand only, filled it with conjured water. Harry stared, he hadn't seem him do wandless magic that well before. Draco took notice and preened, "I've been practicing."
"So what is this?" Harry asked, looking at the green stick. It appeared to be part of a plant. Draco plucked it from his fingers, placing it in the water gently.
"That, my dear, is a part of the surprise. I shall give you one every day, until we are bonded. Then, you shall see what happens." Harry peered at the thing curiously, taking another bite of his scone.
"It wasn't very expensive was it?"
"Nothing is expensive to a Malfoy, Harry." Draco scoffed, tossing the parchments onto the nearby chair and laying out on the bed with a scone in his hand, "I managed to get out of Transfiguration to take care of you as well. I'd already completed the work and had to do a practical for McGonagall but she released me. Thought maybe we would just spend all day holed up in here."
"Excellent, I completely agree. Like bats. We'll sleep all day, and I'd like to know much more about you." Harry said, glancing around the room. The decor, he noticed, was stiff and formal, yet made from the best so it was comfortable. There were little bits of Draco everywhere, the dragon hide boots by the door, the broom in the corner, with a box of Quidditch balls, the pictures, the darker than black cloak hanging from the closet door knob. On the opposite side of the bed was another nightstand with more pictures Harry hadn't noticed yet, a pair of finally engraved silver cufflinks, and in that corner, a copper cauldron. Harry reached for the cufflinks, curious. Emblazoned on them in the tiniest emeralds, onyx and opals was the Malfoy family crest. He set them back down, because they probably cost more than he could afford. Draco just watched him, trying to see his own things through Harry's eyes while finishing off his scone.
"I have more pictures, if you'd like to see them," he offered. Harry smiled,
"I would. First tell me about these," Harry said, turning to the ones he'd been looking at before. Draco smiled, pointing them out one by one abd confirming what Harry had already guessed.
"This one, is Blaise and I, outside of our summer home in southern France. Miss Rose, Blaise's mother, had become very ill and he'd been staying with us for the three months previous to this photo. We were always together back then. We were casting a very important spell. Father worked for ages for us not to be detected by the Ministry, since we were under age. We were casting a spell known only to Malfoys, connecting our crests Father had given us to celebrate becoming Slytherins." Draco held out his right hand, a thick silver ring, with a square face. The Malfoy family crest was emblazoned on the front, the same as the cufflinks in Emeralds, Opals, and Onyx.
"What does it do?" Harry asked, reaching out to touch the ring. It felt like any other ring.
"It connects us, a type of bond. With them, we can always locate one another, and even send a sort of message. If I were to take the ring off and put it on upside down, both my father and Blaise would probably tear the wall down to get in here. Armed to the teeth, I assure you. If I were to spin it around, whatever feeling I would be wanting to convey- usually a warning, would pass through to Blaise or Father. Depending on the direction I spin it. If I take it off, which I rarely have ever done, it signals them- letting them know that I am safe and wish to not be bothered."
"That's actually one of the neatest things I have ever seen since I've been in the wizarding world. I'd put that up there with Molly's clock." Harry said, still gazing at the ring.
"Clock?"
"Yes Molly- that's Ron and GInny's mum, she has a clock in her kitchen with all the faces of the family on it and it tells her what they're doing, where they are. She always keeps an eye on it." Harry said. Draco nodded,
"I've seen something like that before, at Pansy's house. You know, Slytherins don't go into each other's bedrooms, it's a breech of personal space. Like an unwritten rule. If you're ever uncomfortable and they're around, just go there. They'll not follow you."
"I've noticed, there's more of you here than in the rest of your little dorm." Harry said, glancing around. He couldn't help but be curious. Draco leaned over, pulling a book from underneath the bed and shifting to sit next to Harry who quickly tucked into him, his head on the blonde's shoulder as he flipped through the photo album, explaining all the pictures. Harry noticed that Narcissa was only in two and asked about it.
"Mother never was very fond of me. She always complained that I take after father's side too much, not enough Black in me. Don't scoff, Harry, it's mostly true. I am a Malfoy, not a Black. I do not back down from what I want, in everything that I do I am distinguished, I speak several different languages, can blow your mind with the ability to build a small fortune. I am a business man, cold and ruthless. I defend my own and will not be stopped. I want the best, and I am made from the best, therefore I get the best."
"That was a bit arrogant." Harry snickered.
"I am arrogant and spoiled. I'm the best at that too," Draco smirked.
"You're also cocky. Your father doesn't seem cocky, at all. Confident, but not cocky. You're a bit of both. I think the cocky comes from the Black side," Harry offered, "my Godfather, Sirius Black- he's cocky. A bit eccentric too, and thinks he's hilarious. He likes to tell me when he's being serious, because he finds that to be very amusing. In his last letter, he called Voldemort 'ol' snake eyes' and told me he hoped you killed the Kolbalai thoroughly."
"How does one kill something thoroughly?" Draco asked.
"Well, when you've seen Voldemort come back from the dead, and people like that traiterous, loathesome scum, Peter Pettigrew turn tail and continue to survive- you kinda just want to make sure it's dead. Maybe burn the corpse and scatter the ashes... that sort of thing."
"I'm getting the distinct impression that maybe Sirius Black didn't kill your parents?" Harry began telling Draco his stories, as well and they traded back and forth. Draco avoided anything to do with Voldemort and his fathers Death Eater wrong doings while Harry purposefully avoided speaking of the Dursleys. It was lunch time before they were done and both felt that a weight had been lifted from their shoulders.
"I suppose, then, that with all this going on- our bonding, I should really meet your godfather. Only when you're both comfortable with that."
"You make our bond sound like marriage," Harry said, taking a sip of pumpkin juice and scanning through a scrap book Pansy had made for Draco of their time as Slytherins.
"It sort of is, Harry, once we're bonded... or mated, whatever, that's it. Neither of us will be able to be with anyone else, we'll not want for anyone else. In a romantic way, that is. It sort of ties us together, so it's a big deal for the Volaticus. That's why I want so badly to do this properly. We will still fight, still get tired of each other- all of that, like normal couples do. But we will always return. It gives us both a connection and a sense of stability, of traditions. I was raised in tradition."
"I've never had anything like that," Harry said, "except for when I came here, returning to my muggle family's on the holidays, or occassionally the Burrow. I suppose the Weasley's have traditions, and they try to include me."
"They are a pureblooded family, of course they have traditions. I would rather you didn't go back to the Dursley's, Harry. If you could stay here, at Hogwarts, you could stay with me."
"I'd have to have Sirius' permission, that's the thing. It's a hard thing to get though, they always want to send me back. Why are you so against it?"
"You may try to hide whatever it is they did to you, Harry, by not speaking about it but I am a Slytherin. We thrive on skating around the truth, being clever, and cunning. I realize you don't want to be there whether you want to talk about it or not- that's your decision. Besides, once we're bonded, they won't be able to seperate us for weeks. It will cause me pain and I will follow wherever you go."
"So we can't be apart at all once we've had sex?" Harry asked, pausing in the middle of taking a bite from a sandwich. He couldn't imagine Draco meeting the Dursleys going well at all.
"Not really, only for a couple of weeks. It's very strong and old magic, it needs time to settle. Then you could cross the world, or I could- without pain. We would always be able to find each other though. All you have to do, according to Volaticus law, is focus in on it and follow the instinct there and you or I can find eachother."
"That's romantic actually," Harry said thoughtfully. Draco scoffed,
"It is not 'romantic' you bloody sap. It's a necessity, especially with an accident prone wizard such as yourself. The Volaticus uses the bond to track down their amesouer and ensure their safety. See, necessity. Not romance. It's not much different than the crest I wear on my finger, and that is not romantic in any way."
"Still sounds romantic to me," Harry shrugged, rolling his eyes, "aren't you ever romantic?"
"No. Malfoy's are not sappy or romantic. I would be more than happy to take you out to dinner, or dancing or whatever you'd like. I'm not opposed to giving gifts and trinkets as signs of affection. I am also not terribly turned off by the idea of making a scene to let the world know that you are mine. However, I am not romantic. I am not sappy."
"Same thing, Draco, same thing." Harry said grinning. Draco just scowled, shaking his head. "What else do Malfoy's not do?"
"We do not coo, or bend to threats, or back down. We look our best, we provide- especially those of us that are Volaticus. Malfoys are about traditions, Harry, our lineage. We would be nothing without our ancestors."
"So once we're bonded... does that make me a part of that?"
"Yes, you would be considered one of us. The Manor itself senses these things, and would allow you to open any door, whereas others can not. There are rooms Mother can not enter, trunks she can not open. Some, and I'll show you how to tell, require a drop of blood to open. We're about security."
"I would have more ability as a Malfoy than your Mother?!" Harry asked incredulously.
"Indeed. You are my amesouer, once we're bonded, you're like a part of me where all is concerned. Capable of making decisions in my absence, doing whatever you'd like at the Manor or other properties, you can even access the vaults at Gringotts."
"Your Mum can't do those things, Draco, really?"
"Non, mon amour, she can not. She is not Father's amesouer, and had proven herself... untrustworthy, of all that the Malfoy family holds." Draco replied, sighing. Harry was unsure how much further to go with this today, how much to ask. Did Draco know about the divorce? He decided it would be best to wait to ask anything about that.
"I am here for you, Draco, if you need to talk... just so you know." he mumbled quietly but the blonde heard him perfectly. He turned to stare at Harry a moment and the smaller raven haired boy felt a bit nervous under the scrutinizing gaze.
Draco reached his hand out and lifted Harry's chin softly, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips. Harry grinned against it, remembering the night before and Draco moaned a bit, pulling back, but just a bit, and leaning their foreheads together,
"I can not wait to make you mine," he whispered.