Hello everyone!
I'm back! For this chapter at least before I get another mild dose of Writers Block. Yes, I hear it's fairly potent around these parts as of late. Gah. Well, anyway, for everyone that posted a comment before, I thank you and I love you!
Everyone that guessed; Connection, Emotion, Telepathy, Soul, you're all amazing! And all those who didn't, well I love you guys just as much!
Now onto the story!
Sexy scene straight up though, so you might want to hold on to your seats!
Enjoy!
-oOoOoOoOo-
Harry chewed on his lower lip anxiously as Draco sleepily curled closer around him, his red rimmed eyes very close to Harry's own, so much that Harry could trace the small veins in the paper-thin smooth skin of his eyelids with his own eyes. It helped Harry to calm down; helped his shaking limbs fade to faint tremors as he observed the features of the Slytherin with a less than aroused and sex addled mind. The nightmares clung fresh to his mind, that much was obvious by his gutted expression -not that he noticed-, but just looking at Draco seemed to help the pain and fathomless depths of sorrow to fade into background noise, just that small bit.
He had woken from his sleep restless, and just a little bit nervous as the bed had felt considerably heavier. He had forgotten just how he'd fallen asleep, but as soon as he'd opened his eyes, he found that he very much liked having someone else in bed with him. He'd never slept beside someone before, the Dursley's most certainly wouldn't have allowed him to have sleep in their bed after a nightmare, or allow Harry to have a friend sleep over. There was never any room in his cupboard for someone else other than the clutter, the spiders and himself.
But he liked this, as much as he used to hate other people touching him.
They were both curled up in each other; Harry's legs tucked between Draco's, Draco's arms wrapped protectively around Harry and anchoring him to his chest, and Harry's head sharing the same pillow as the blonde - where he'd moved it upon waking, as his head had been tucked under Draco's chin. They were entwined together like snakes, and Harry wouldn't have had it any other way.
Except, he would. He would have rathered they wake up together for the first time to be a happy occasion, a moment where it was just them together and there was nothing wrong in the world. But life wasn't fair, least of all to him, and if something good were to be in his favor, it was swiftly followed by something extremely bad.
Slowly and carefully so as not to wake the blonde, Harry lifted his right hand from between them and gently caressed Draco's soft cheeks, tracing the dried trails left by tears with nimble fingertips and gently smoothing the hair back from the weary-set brows. It was all too clear that Harry wasn't the only one who had suffered from nightmares all night, and he couldn't help but feel a tightening in his chest at the melancholic expression his sleeping mate was sporting, thinking that, once again, it was his fault for causing unrest.
Sleep darkened silver eyes opened slowly and gradually at his gentle touching, and Harry was truly hit with the realization that Draco truly was his mate, no matter what past they may have shared before their Inheritances. Just the look in Draco's eyes alone convinced Harry not to be embarrassed about his moment of weakness, that it was perfectly alright for his walls to crash down around him in the arms holding him. All of those petty fights in the past were less than nothing compared to the bond between them, they were a shout from under water; muted and unheard. There was no blaming; fighting; cursing and hexing; manipulating. Just the two of them, connected and sharing something as old as time and just as powerful.
In the silence of Harry's fire-lit room, they stared at each other; storm cloud grey melting with fiery green emerald, swimming within each others gazes as if nothing else was around them. They didn't speak for nearly ten minutes, as their eyes were doing the talking for them. Suddenly, a sultry smile graced those beautiful lips, and before Harry could so much as say 'Hello' properly, Draco had leaned in and captured his lips in a furious kiss, an impassioned moan drawling deep in the muscular chest pressed to Harry's.
Harry dragged in a deep, ragged breath when Draco bit down on his generous lower lip, and then moaned throatily as Draco deepened the kiss, tangling their tongues in a battle of dominance that Harry was sorely losing -not that he minded-, and mixing a small amount of blood from Harry's lip between them with every sensual sweep of tongues. It was everything Harry needed; he needed Draco.
The heat of their kisses brought about a bout of exhilaration that swept between the two gradually, fizzling and zapping excitedly in the places that their bodies touched and seemed to stop existing as separate. Harry's toes had long ago been curled tight from the wicked sensations Draco was giving him, but he was in no mind to worry if the strength he was exerting on his toes were breaking them at all, he was swallowed completely by the siren song of Draco's lips, the plundering of the hot cavern of his mouth as Draco mapped out every indentation and curve as if he were a cool drink of a water in a boiling desert.
After a long moment of blood-burning, brain melting, passionate kissing, Harry was guided onto his back by gentle but insistent hands, and Draco was suddenly leaning up and above him, his elbow holding himself steady at Harry's shoulder so he wouldn't fall and crush his little mate, and his other hand trailing possessively down Harry's side, squeezing and molding against Harry's curves as if silently shouting and claiming the flesh; Mine!
A high pitched, pleasured keen left Harry's lips, only to be swallowed immediately by Draco's, as the wandering hand swept under the back of his knee and hitched it up, and a firm, muscular leg was suddenly worked between Harry's, where it immediately began moving and rubbing encouragingly against his achingly hard cock.
Harry couldn't get enough air to cry out, let alone breathe, as that very leg caused the most delicious sparks of pleasure to emanate from his cock, pleasure in every sense of the word lapping at his lithe and supple body. However, it would've been a much sweeter sensation if he could have enough air in his lungs to enjoy it. His chest cavity ached almost painfully for oxygen, but he was so damn hard for Draco that he could barely think with his dizzying mind.
Draco pulled back from his swollen lips abruptly, as if sensing the panic beginning to bubble up in Harry's mind at the lack of air in his lungs, but didn't waste any time in trailing passionate and hot open mouthed kisses down Harry's jaw and onto the furiously pumping vein in his long, ivory neck. Teeth trailed teasingly over the vein, but not once did they attempt to pierce the skin, merely scraping teasingly at the surface; a hint at the pleasure that Draco's fangs opening one of his veins could bring.
Harry was gasping out desperate moans, unable to keep his hands from wandering, scratching, grabbing, squeezing anywhere of Draco he could reach, too caught up in the pleasure and unable to keep his hips from bucking against the leg working so beautifully with his needy cock. He choked on the overwhelming sensations, feeling more in his lungs and spine than his stomach the delicious searing heat that alerted him to his near completion. He could feel the restless writhing of his wings underneath the skin of his back - feel the bones of his wings shifting as if to emerge upon his completion to wrap around them both.
"Yesss," Harry hissed out, unknowingly invoking his rather sibilant tongue in the red haze, gritting his teeth as the pleasure began to reach epic proportions that sprung colors before his closed eyes.
With a primal, choked snarl, Draco removed his leg and instead situated himself between Harry's thighs, hitching the leg still in his grasp high over his arching hips as he brought his own achingly hard cock down against Harry's. They both hissed and let out cries of pleasure at the contact, before Draco began moving skillfully and powerfully against Harry's hips and stealing whatever remained of Harry's breath away again.
Heavenly fire poured into Harry's body very quickly, igniting every bone in his body like fireworks set to explode, and he was helpless to the situation as Draco brought him to the very edge of the world, and threw him tumbling head first over the precipice. He screamed his completion to the sky, unable to keep silent as his entire world burned with pleasure and utter completion, feeling nothing but Draco everywhere and all over him, inside of him; large, hot hands grabbing at his body; rutting slim hips that still moved against his spurting cock with feverish motions; molten silver eyes watching him obsessively, tracking every move and twinge of pleasure as if committing it to memory.
Harry was flying, there was nothing else but Draco and the pleasure, the pleasure that seemed to be sending him careening to the edge of insanity from the sheer power of it. Nothing was like it, and he doubted that anything else ever would be.
And then Draco was arching against him and roaring his own completion to the heavens, sending somehow a wave of the pleasure back two-fold into his somewhat spent body and shocking Harry into an arch of his own, a twin cry of completion escaping him as he came for the second time.
Heart pounding harder than ever before and his chest heaving for air, Harry slowly sunk back onto the bed, sweaty, boneless, and Draco fell to his side, immediately bringing his arms around Harry and pulling him in close. He was panting hard and sweating too.
"That -" Draco said, pausing to gasp for some much needed air - despite it smelling of what Harry was discovering as sex. "- was just what I needed," he finished, allowing a shaky post-coital smile to grace his swollen and red mouth.
Harry suspected that he looked far worse than Draco did, but he couldn't bring himself to care much, not when his own body was rocking its own bout of post-coital bliss. Though they hadn't gone any farther than rutting and wanking, just those experiences seemed surreal and more than pleasurable - it was almost criminal.
And it made him ponder just how much more epic the pleasure of their lovemaking would be when they finally completed the bond.
It took Harry several minutes to get his breathing back under control and to speak properly, and even then he still sounded winded and hoarse. "What brought that on?" He asked breathlessly, nudging Draco's arm with a tired wrist. "Not that I mind or anything, but you usually leave encounters like this for the bathroom."
"Thought we could bring it to the bedroom," Draco said, chuckling just as breathlessly as he. "Got sick of mum and dad always interrupting us, so I thought - hey, they can't exactly barge into our rooms, so why not put them to good use?"
Harry snorted. "Spoken like a true Slytherin," he drawled, skirting a hand over his still heaving, sweaty chest, almost insanely aware that Draco was watching him closely.
"If you hadn't noticed already, Harry but I am a Slytherin, and a damn good one at that," Draco said, a grin turning the corner of his lip up minimally.
"Can't argue with that," Harry mumbled, a wide yawn nearly cracking his jaw open. "Though perhaps your performance isn't exactly up to code, it certainly does leave something to be desired."
Draco was suddenly looming over him again, mirth sprinkled sparingly in the slightly suspicious and affronted silver eyes. "And what does that mean?" He drawled.
Harry felt a mischievous smirk begin to spread onto his lips at the look his mate was giving him, but he squashed it as quickly as he could. Draco's look of suspicion intensified at his sudden blank expression. "You've proven that you can give me pleasure during, but what about for after?" He quizzed coyly, lifting a hand to drift lazily through the sweaty platinum locks.
Draco scowled, but didn't shove his hand away. "And what do you mean by that,I wonder," he muttered, unimpressed.
The smirk began to creep back onto the corners of Harry's lips before he could do anything about it, but he didn't bother stopping it. "Well, a shower is always a good way to worm ones way into anothers good graces . . ." He trailed helpfully.
Silver eyes narrowed into dangerous slivers of grey, and Draco slowly lowered himself down until their noses almost touched. "Are you saying that I stink, Potter?" Draco almost growled, no real heat behind his words, though they did sound playful.
Harry feigned innocent, smiling as sweetly as he could up at the blonde. "Why, Draco, how could you possibly come to that conclusion?" He asked, pressing a small kiss to the still swollen lips hovering a hairs breath above his own. "Though, if even yourself suspects that you need a shower -" he broke off to press another kiss - this one slightly more affectionate, to Draco's pursed lips. "- perhaps you're in need of one."
By then, Draco's eyes were practically sparse glints of silver amongst blonde lashes. "You dare to tell me, your mate, that I stink?" He breathed dangerously, though Harry heard more playfulness than any actual anger.
Harry suppressed the laughter that threatened to break free. "No, no!" He denied. "You smell delici -" He was cut off by the explosion of laughter and giggles that was the direct result of Draco digging tickling fingers into his tender sides.
Draco cackled mercilessly above him as the gale of laughter escalated into pleas and shrieks of "Stop! Please - no more!" as Harry was completely undone.
Draco allowed Harry to suffer under his tickling fingers for a moment longer, taking in and committing to memory the joyful, untainted expression of his wise beyond immeasurable years soulmate. He wouldn't likely be able to see that sight ever again, and it drove him spare that he had just found his soulmate and was already under dire threat of losing him.
"Fine," he snapped, huffing faux-angrily and ceasing his attack on Harry. He shuffled back from his panting mate. "But if you think I stink, you should smell yourself - disgusting."
-oOoOoOoOo-
Draco had made sure to wash Harry very thoroughly and attentively with the body wash the brunette had favored so much, even though Harry stunk of nothing bad at all; it had all been a ploy to get Harry to allow him to touch him.
And he was certain that Harry had known about it right from the get-go.
"Are you sure that we have to go see everyone right now?"
Draco sent Harry a half exasperated look and shook his head. "If I hear you say that one more time . . ."
Harry grunted, lowering his gaze to where he was putting his feet. "I just don't think that anyone wants to see me so soon after. . ." He refrained from saying the words that Draco knew were in his mind, the incident still fresh.
"I don't think anyone will care," Draco told him confidently, mentally adding, Because they're all concerned with how you're going to fight in and champion them in yet another war.
"Everyone always cares, Draco," Harry bit out bitterly. "Every bad thing I've done in my life has always had someone there to comment on it, and you think that no one will be angry with me for - for killing those werewolves when I didn't have to?"
Draco sighed at the tortured expression fighting its way onto Harry's ethereal features, and cuddled the smaller brunette protectively and comfortingly into his side. "Harry, I don't think anyone truly thinks any bad of you for defending them," he said gently. "I know that I don't, and certainly Granger and Weasel plus seven don't. You've always had their best interest at heart, and no one can fault you for that."
Harry tensed at that for a silent moment. "They can when I've killed for them," he murmured.
Draco scowled darkly, a vicious sneer curling his lips. "Then they under appreciate your good heart and clearly aren't deserving of your loyalty," he said roughly.
Harry was silent after that, quietly conceding to Draco's logic -however much he hated thinking of his friends in such a manner- that perhaps he wasn't the one at fault. He stayed cuddled into Draco's side as they entered the solemn Great hall and seated themselves at the quiet table, finding that the stares weighing on him were perhaps a bit too suffocating.
Hermione was gazing at him soberly, her teeth worrying her lower lip anxiously as he ignored them all in favor of serving himself breakfast. A pale, but apologetic Ron was by her side -as always- and was also staring at Harry, an indecipherable emotion in his blue eyes. Harry ignored him pointedly.
"Harry dear, you're looking a bit peaky today, are you well?" Asked Molly slowly, concerned at Harry's pale pallor. She truly didn't fault Harry for killing those werewolves, it was obvious by the familiar warm and motherly spark in her brown eyes.
Harry offered her a small smile, twisting the Potter ring anxiously around his finger - as he had found was a nervous tick of his. "I'm alright, Misses Weasley, just a small headache is all," he lied, forcing the smile to look reassuring. He knew it didn't fool her by the look on her face, but she didn't say anything about it, and neither did he.
Hermione looked at him sharply, almost as if seeing the tears he'd shed the night before on his cheeks still. "You've been having nightmares again," she observed softly, gaining Molly's attention. "Oh, Harry, do you see why I didn't want you going after those werewolves? You've got enough on your plate to deal with without more blood on your hands, you didn't need to protect us."
"What's done is done," Harry told her grimly, looking down at his plate to avoid the suddenly piercing stares of those gathered at the table. It was incredibly silent and still as he spoke. "Let's all just leave it at that. There's no point in bringing it all back up when we can do nothing to change it."
Apparently seeing a chance at changing the subject, Ron suddenly came to life in his girlfriend's silence. "Harry, mate, I'm really sorry for insulting you and going at you like I did. 'Mione tore into me right after it all happened and made me see that I was being a huge tosser -" he began apologetically, face a magnificent shade of red.
"I forgive you," Harry told him quietly, cutting off the apology that he knew was most likely slaying the red head's pride. He just wanted it all over and done with already, he didn't care for Ron's apology - it was always the same; Harry, I'm sorry for being a right prat; Harry, 'Mione made me see that I was a git, I'm sorry.
"Really," he added at seeing Ron begin to protest, Hermione giving her boyfriend's arm an encouraging nudge when he faltered at Harry's abruptness. "I forgive you. I understand that you're really upset, Ron, I do. Your best mate was human one night, and then not the next day - it stressed, shocked, and confused you to the point of striking out. And then you find out that Draco Malfoy and I are mates, I completely understand that you're angry. I guess I'm just used to it by now."
With a wince at the unintentional but deserving sharp barb, Ron left the conversation to die in the tense silence, and hurriedly picked up his knife and fork to avoid speaking. It was a tactic he used whenever he didn't know what else to say, or was just feeling uncomfortable. Harry recognized it easily enough; it was hard not to pick up certain ticks from friends when you've been around them for so long. Hermione's favorite distraction was to read - whether she had a book on hand or not; she would look away and find someone to focus her sharp eye on.
Everyone seemed to follow along in the same vein as Ron, and Harry wasn't inclined to stop them. The conversations that sprung up were strained at best, but it kept the Hall from feeling too suffocating. They had all had breakfasts and meals that were unpleasant, but were obviously trying hard to discontinue that, even if it was with people they hardly liked. Harry himself was making conversation with people he never thought he'd actually sit with, let alone look at.
"So, what are we going to do today?" Harry heard Hermione ask, and had to wonder just who she was aiming the question at, as no one had spoken a word to her.
Dumbledore suddenly smiled, as if he had been reminded of something important, and looked at Harry closely. Harry sighed inwardly, recognizing the look for what it was and merely accepted it. "Harry my boy, I have a very important favor to ask of you," the old wizard said, smiling happily and peacefully unaware of the dark looks being sent his way from the Malfoys.
McGonagall's lips thinned severely from her place beside Dumbledore. "I'm sure it could wait until after we have breakfasted, Albus," she said stiffly, raising a delicate cup of tea to sip at it briskly. She gave the elderly man a sharp look as he merely smiled genially at her.
"No, no, I'm sure that it is perfectly alright to ask him now," Dumbledore told the stern witch happily, before smiling once more at Harry, blissfully unaware of McGonagall's gimlet stare drilling into the side of his face. "Harry, I wished to know if you would be so kind as to escort the young ladies from Hogsmeade station to Hogwarts grounds tonight, at seven o'clock."
Harry rolled the request around in his mind thoughtfully, aware, but uncaring for the looks of anger that graced Draco and the Slytherin majority of the table.
"Our Harry is not some common House-elf at your disposal, Headmaster," sneered an irate Lucius. "You cannot merely request him to do your bidding, he is a Lord, and he is to do what he wishes."
"I meant no offense to Harry's status as Lord Potter, Lucius," Dumbledore gently remonstrated the still sneering blonde. "I am merely asking for a favor, Headmaster to pupil. I'm sure you understand."
"What you're doing is needlessly risking the last of the Potter line to protect wizards and witches that clearly know how to defend themselves," said Narcissa fiercely, eyes glinting glacially at the old wizard that seemed to grow flustered under the weight of so many disgusted gazes. "Harry has defeated the last threat to our community with no small amount of sacrifice and pain. Are you seriously considering sending him back out into the battlefield when his duty is to remain protected, and serve the House of Potter the amount of respect it deserves?"
Dumbledore's cheeks tinted red. "Now, see here -" He began to say, unsettled by the severe reactions to his, in his mind, acceptable request.
"I agree with Madame Malfoy," said McGonagall briskly, dabbing the corners of her thin lips primly and throwing down her napkin as if she hadn't just cut off one of the most powerful wizards in the world. "Harry is no longer needed to fulfill a silly, poor excuse of a prophecy that had vague notions of sacrifice that spiraled down many different paths - not all safe and positive. Harry is not needed to defend us, he is needed to take up his seat as Lord Potter in the Wizengamot, and provide better futures for the younger generations with his outstanding moral compass and genuine compassion. He is needed in his role as Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, now more than ever. Fleamont Potter would have wanted him to take up his James' place as Head, irregardless of what an Inheritance gave or took away, and most certainly irregardless of how Harry came into such a position."
"I cannot believe that you would request this of him, Albus!" Molly Weasley, defender of all children, remonstrated in addition to Minerva, shaking a fist at the chagrined Headmaster. "After all Harry has done for us, sacrificed for us, bled for us, you would think that he would be able to find peace of mind in the wake of his defeat of Lord Voldemort! And what does he find instead? A request made by the very same wizard that put him in danger before he was a twinkle in his mothers eye to yet again protect us! Shame on you - shame on you Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore!"
Harry leaned back in his seat in mild shock as people of all alliances shouted reprimands at the Headmaster, all at his defense. He wasn't so much surprised at Molly's defense of him, just the ferocity in words and tone that she used on the Leader of the Light. It was like she was cracking the whip on one of her misbehaving sons. But Professor McGonagall's involvement on his behalf . . . it had him staring at the stern witch with something akin to reverence and awe. She took on the Headmaster -her mentor- with barely a blink of an eye, and all for him.
A large, warm hand cupped Harry's, and he turned his head slightly to see Draco watching him closely, a slight twinge in the corner of his lip that betrayed his amusement. They all listened and watched avidly as Molly gave the Headmaster a severe dressing down, Minerva McGonagall joining in to tear strips off the now weary and regretful Headmaster. If things became a little . . . personal with Harry's previous home-life -courtesy of Hermione and Ron joining in, in berating the Headmaster- Harry gave nothing away, other than squeezing the hand holding his.
"It's almost like they're tag-teaming," Draco mused in amusement, watching as the Headmaster finally excused himself from the table, even while under the sharp tongue lashings of Minerva and Molly. "It's almost like they coordinated this attack on the Headmaster together, like an ambush of some kind."
"Like they expected it," Harry said quietly, pushing himself to cut up the food before and chew on it mechanically. If it tasted like ash to his racing mind, it didn't show on his face. It was a chore to eat, but he did with the knowledge that he needed the energy, and the excuse to stop others from engaging him in a conversation.
"Yes, that's exactly what I was thinking," Draco murmured, watching the happenings of the table intently as some of the tension leached away. "Everyone's settling down now. I think Weasley's mother is satisfied that Dumbledore knows her opinion on the matter. Mother seems the same, if a bit more dignified about it."
Harry nodded absent-mindedly, still chewing on his food at his own pace, even if Draco seemed a little impatient for him to talk again. He swallowed his mouthful of food. "I think Molly's been planning for years to confront Dumbledore on many things - about me, mostly. I think that this was just a golden opportunity for her."
"Well I hope you don't mind my mum joining in on all the fun as well," Draco said wryly, prompting Harry back into eating with a gentle nudge to the ribs. "She's been dying to say something to Dumbledore about his deplorable sense of self-preservation and empathy for his students for years, ever since she studied here. She thinks he should step aside and let McGonagall assume the role of Headmistress in his place."
"And what does the Slytherin Prince think of that?" Harry teased him, a small smirk quirking his generous lips.
Draco was distracted for a moment by the smirk, gleaming silver eyes gazing mindlessly at those very red lips as Harry's smirk widened. He swallowed loudly as a small pink tongue wet the expanse of ruby lips. "I don't care who becomes Headmaster or Headmistress, so long as they're not any worse than Dumbledore," he said absently, slightly breathless.
"I agree," Harry said, grinning prettily now at the slack-jawed look on his boyfriend's -mates- face. "Although I do have some form of respect for Dumbledore, I think that he's lost touch with the emotions and need that students have nowadays. I'm a prime example of his ineffectiveness to help students; he sent me to live with . . -" Harry broke off hurriedly, eschewing teasing his boyfriend in favor chewing on his lower lip. "With no one."
"Who were you going to say?" Draco asked quietly, seeming to blink himself from his stupor at the concerning expression on his mates face. "Harry?" He prompted.
"Not the time or place," Harry said to him, just as quietly. It would never be the time to speak about my horrifying life with the Durlsey's, he thought. No one would know about the pain he suffered there without direct cause for it. And just because his boyfriend and mate asked him about it, was most definitely not the cause to spill the beans on his biggest secret yet. It would be a secret he took to the grave.
Draco grimaced. "You know that I'll keep bringing it up anyway," he said.
Harry nodded in acceptance, turning back to his plate with ill-disguised nervousness. "I know, you wouldn't be you if you didn't. But I won't be telling you until I'm ready," he said.
They were both silent for a moment, the both of them letting their conversation fall into a lull as they observed the others talking about the recent spectacle of Minerva and Molly stripping Dumbledore's ego bare. They systematically ate their breakfast, their expressions and body language shifting through cycles of emotions; Harry was silent and shifty, keeping his gaze on the plate before him as nerves ate at him, so clear was his distress that even a few of the people at the opposite end of the table glanced at him in concern. Draco was completely still, his face shifting through expressions of intense anger, slight fear, a possessive indignance, and finally, an alien look of anger and possessiveness.
"It's something bad, isn't it," Draco said eventually, an unknown emotion bleeding into his voice that had Harry ducking his head slightly.
Harry didn't answer him. He continued eating the ash-tasting food.
"How bad?" Draco asked tersely.
Harry didn't answer that either. Even if he wanted to, how could he answer it? He didn't know of any other cases to compare his childhood with, nor did it seem as bad as the war he had been drafted into at a young age to champion. He lifted his shoulders in a graceful shrug, thankful that the ring on his finger deemed that dignified enough and didn't try to burn his finger off.
"Tell me," Draco said, an eery calmness in his frosty voice.
"I'm not ready to," Harry answered firmly. "Honestly, it's not as bad as what you're thinking."
"Harry, you're testing my patience," Draco told him stiffly. If Harry were to look at his mate, he would notice the very sharp teeth peaking out threateningly from underneath the blonde's thinning upper lip.
"I already told you that I won't be telling you until I'm ready, Draco," Harry answered the blonde quietly. "I'm not going to tell you until I'm sure that I can handle it," he said.
"You will tell me," Draco said gruffly, digging dilated and slightly red ringed eyes into the side of Harry's face.
Harry nodded reassuringly, soothing the enraged Vampire with soft, gentle touches. "When I'm ready, I'll let you know," he said tenderly, giving Draco's tensed hand a comforting squeeze. "But for now, you need to relax."
"I can't relax knowing that someone hurt you," Draco said stiffly, giving his mate an almost incredulous look.
"Will you relax if I tell you that it was in retaliation for something that I'd done?" Harry asked him, fighting to keep the knowledge that whatever he had done when he was younger was in self-defense against Dudley, uncle Vernon and Dudley's friends.
Draco shook his head firmly. "You don't deserve to be harmed. Ever," he said fiercely. "And if you ever think that you do . . you don't want to know what will happen."
Harry bit his lower lip and nodded, aware of the eyes that were attached to them. "Fine," he said, not exactly meaning it. "Now can we leave?"
-oOoOoOoOo-
"You made it clear that you're all right with mating with Draco wherever you may be and with falling pregnant, Harry, but I don't think you realize just what goes into a mateship," Narcissa said slowly, skewering the two teenagers before her with her sharp gaze. "So now that you've had your say on those matters, we can carry on with what is involved in a mateship, and what to expect."
"Draco, you know of the base stages of a mateship, correct?" Lucius asked Draco, staring at his son with piercing eyes. The two elder Malfoy's looked to be tag-teaming with each other, much in the same spirit as Minerva McGonagall and Molly Weasley had against the Headmaster that morning. They wanted to drill just how important the mateship was into the teenagers before they advanced any further.
Draco frowned at his father and cast a cautious glance at Harry, before nodding and looking back to his parents. "Connection, Emotion, Telepathy and Soul," he said.
Lucius nodded once to confirm, and then turned to look closely at Harry. "I'm unsure of what stages the Valerian have in a mateship as there is next to no information regarding the subject, but as Draco is the Dominant, we will assume that the mateship will fall under Vampiric rulings. Are you comfortable in accepting this?" He asked.
Harry nodded his assent.
"As Draco named the four stages of Vampiric mateship, Narcissa and I shall provide the knowledge that you will need to create a positive and strong bond," Lucius said, sitting back in his seat and stroking an elegant hand over the silver snake head atop his polished cane. "You have already established a connection between the two of you, which could have began from nothing more than a glance in your mates direction, or a touch of their hand. It cannot be destroyed or ignored. Given the strength of the bond between you, not even if you ignored it would it dissipate. In fact, I believe you tried to ignore each other in the beginning, putting your feelings of hatred first instead of the sweetening effects of the bond. It, to your detriment, did not go away as expected, but somehow swelled in power and strength and forced the both of you to recognize it."
"Could it have gone away if we didn't recognize it?" Harry asked quickly, seeing Lucius pause to draw breath.
Narcissa shook her golden head in response of her husband, not a hair moving from the complicated chignon atop her head. "With the strength of the bond between you already breaking down the barriers of years of hate, I don't see how it would accept you both ignoring it or not recognizing it," she said knowledgeably, but not unkindly. "There was a couple, years before we were all born, that decided not to recognize what was between them. That is, they felt something when they passed by each other, but they neither looked nor touched one another in fear of beginning something they both didn't want."
"And what did the bond do?" Harry asked, unsure he wanted to know. Draco's hand tightened around his.
Narcissa's lips thinned slightly. "The bond forced them to recognize each other by forcing their magic to bend to its will. It was as if an unseen force knocked them into each other, breaking a few bones in the process and sending them to the Hospital wing. They were wrapped around each other, their eyes not leaving one another for fear of the bond deciding that they were attempting to ignore the other. They were put into a room with no inanimate objects and forced to copulate, to begin the bond and seal them together to sate the bonds thirst for their recognition. They were forced from Hogwarts in fear of the bond using their magic to harm other students, as when they were forced together, three students were almost killed in the crossfire."
Harry gasped in true horror, turning wide fearful eyes onto a silent Draco. "That could have been us!" He said to him, horrified at the mere idea. "We could've hurt somebody . ." He couldn't speak.
"While your magic is stronger than nearly every witch and wizard in existence, I do not think that it would harm another without you intending to," Lucius disagreed, shaking his head. "Your nature would not let you harm another without grievous error on their part; thus your current state of being. As a Guardian of others, it is obvious that you do not harm without cause."
"You wouldn't harm anyone without a reason," Narcissa reiterated, firm.
A delicate shudder rippled through Harry at that, startling Draco somewhat, and he shook his head. "I have hurt others without meaning to," he admitted quietly. "I couldn't control my magic, and I still can't. I'm always constantly containing it, holding it in."
"You shouldn't have to do that," Lucius said, frowning bemusedly. "Your magic is your own and bends to your will alone, it cannot think for itself and therefore awaits your instructions. It is not sentient."
"Mine seems like it," Harry told him. "It's like an animal trapped in a cage, it's fighting to come out."
"We shall have to discuss this at another time," Narcissa said, gesturing vaguely with her hand. "We haven't much time before the others arrive from Hogsmeade Station."
Lucius nodded determinedly. "Let us carry on with our lesson. Emotion, of course, blurs the barriers of our emotions and allows us to wholly feel what the other is feeling. It can cause temporary insanity, as you could mistake the others feeling for you own; say, anger, or perhaps jealousy."
"So I could be fine and dandy one second, and then angry the next?" Harry asked skeptically.
Narcissa nodded solemnly. "It was absolute hell for Lucius and I in the beginning, as we both are put through our paces in politicking as Lord and Lady Malfoy, and must keep our composure until we are allowed in the privacy of our halls at Malfoy Manor," she said. "For example, if I was particularly annoyed by another Lady and Lucius felt my annoyance double-fold with his own, he would become more than irate and blunt with the person he was currently speaking with. It works both ways, I can assure you."
"It also brings pleasure triple-fold in the bedchamber," Lucius said, the picture of calm and tranquility in the face of Harry's blushing face. "If Narcissa was feeling particularly pleased with my actions, I will feel it as well, and the same for her. It is an odd sensation to feel taken when you are the one doing the taking, but something rather enjoyable I find."
"We'll be able to feel everything the other is feeling," Harry summarized hurriedly, nodding. "Got it. Now onto Telepathy."
A faint smirk touched Lucius' face at Harry's obvious mortification, but he carried on per Draco's almost equally horrified expression. "Telepathy is exactly that. Telepathy. It allows you to converse with one another within your minds. But do not throw caution to the wind in thinking that your minds are protected, they are most certainly not, as the shields for Occlumency are no longer in place. It is particularly dangerous around a carefully practiced Legilimens, so no thinking of dangerous thoughts in public."
"It will be difficult," Narcissa said, throwing her husband a sour look. "Especially if one of you do not know Occlumency. But you will be able to help bridge the gap in your minds that will keep out interlopers and Legilimens. Severus is an accomplished Occlumens, and I'm sure that, given the circumstances of your already strong and firm bond, he will be able to teach you how to guard your minds, even when you speak to one another."
"It will take time and no small amount of effort," Lucius agreed, ignoring the looks he was getting from his wife. "Especially as you are both so young, your thoughts may travel unfiltered to the other, which will counteract with the lack of emotional barriers. Especially as your hormones are becoming wild and are shifting with your recent changes, you may find that broomclosets are more preferable in the heat of the moment than your bedchambers," he said wryly.
Draco closed his eyes in clear embarrassment, before nodding and gripping Harry's supportive hand tightly. They both shuffled a little closer together, feigning discomfort on the comfortable seat to do so. They ignored the amused gazes of the elder Malfoy's as they settled; hip to thigh, arm to arm.
"And Soul?" Harry asked weakly, unsure if he wanted to continue at this point.
Narcissa surprised Harry in smiling softly, her eyes glimmering in the remembrance of her time with Lucius. Lucius twined a hand around Narcissa's dainty wrist, and slowly moved to encase her slight fingers in a loving embrace. The cane was almost forgotten in his other hand. "When you are both ready to commit fully to each other, you will copulate and in a fit of instinct, will exchange blood through a kiss, sealing and melding your cores together in a moment of utmost passion," she said, her voice almost hard to hear in the silence of the Creatures Nest.
"It is dangerous," Lucius added quietly, a look of unknown love in his gaze as he looked at his wife. "When you begin the last stage in your mateship, there is nothing that can stop it, and that also means that if you are threatened, you will hardly notice. Many are killed in that final moment, which is why our kind are nearing extinction."
"We won't notice that we're being attacked?" Harry asked, his mind reeling as an image of Draco and himself entwined together on a large bed, a dark figure slowly prowling at the edges with a wand poised to spit out a deadly curse, filled his mind.
Lucius shook his head solemnly. "Which is why Narcissa and I urge you to wait until you have both finished your schooling at Hogwarts and are someplace safe," he said. "Your minds will be filled with nothing but each other, your hearts beating only for the other in that final moment that seals you together, that makes you one. You won't notice a wand, or a weapon that is trained on you, until you are dead or your mate is killed before your eyes."
"But it might be different for us," Harry said uncertainly, still off-kilter with the information that he or Draco could be killed just as they joined each other in a bond that lasted eternity. "I'm a Guardian being, so I could protect us when we finished that final stage. Right?"
"Of course," Draco murmured soothingly into his ear, sliding the arm pressed against him around his shoulders in a one armed embrace. Harry took comfort in the warmth, and huddled closer, bringing his left arm to press against Draco's steadily rising and falling chest. He took a large measure of relief in the strong heartbeat thrumming under his fingertips.
"This is all pertaining to Vampires, Harry darling," Narcissa crooned affectionately, rising from her seat to gracefully sit beside him, placing a small comforting hand on his arm. "As you are a Valerian, I'm sure you have a measure of protection that you can extend to Draco when the bonding makes you vulnerable."
"That is to say that someone will even attack you," Lucius said, also rising from his seat. He turned and walked to stand in front of the fireplace, his eyes trained on the roaring and crackling wood. "With your reputation, not even the missing Death Eaters will attempt to assassinate you. You are a highly important figure in the Wizarding world, and most definitely will be on the Wizengamot when you choose to attend. It would be remiss of me to allow you to even stay at some hovel, or hole in the ground."
"I was thinking of staying at the Potter Manor after we finish Hogwarts," Harry admitted quietly, slightly pink cheeked at Lucius' declaration.
Draco hummed beside him, and Narcissa made an intrigued noise. Lucius himself gave the impression of interest and slight surprise.
"The home of the late Fleamont Potter and his wife, Euphemia," Lucius murmured to himself, seemingly unaware of his audience. "Not a bad home, I'm sure, but if I recall . . . Yes, my father was once invited to attend tea with Fleamont and his father, Henry, but as my father was rather harsh and strict about his associates, I remember him not attending and instead sending a rather short missive in reply, gratitude for the invitation, but words of anger for the attempt at . . . I believe the word was 'gossip-mongering'."
"Why didn't he go?" Harry asked, prompting the man when he fell silent. He was enthralled with the information about his grandfather and great-grandfather, especially as coming from the Malfoy's, it would remain unbiased with regards to heroism. Although it would most likely sound as if his family were arrogant and sneer-worthy.
"I assume the Dark Lord's leash had restricted his free time and choice of friends," Lucius said speculatively. "Of course, it could have been because the Potter's and the Malfoy's have always had bad blood between them."
"I believe Fleamont meant to ensure the possibility of neutrality between James and yourself," said Narcissa pensively. "I seem to recall my cousin, Sirius, complaining about James' father sending a letter of recognition to Abraxas on behalf of James. Sirius thought that James could handle whatever you could throw at them."
"Still thinks," Harry muttered wryly, giving his head a small shake.
Narcissa looked down at him, astonished. "You know of Sirius' location?" She asked.
Harry nodded hesitantly, a smidge timid at the question. "I live with him," he informed her quietly.
"Where?" She asked, looking wary, if a little bit excited at the news.
Harry went to say, but paused as he remembered the Fidelius that was still up around Grimmauld Place. He frowned apologetically at her. "I'm sorry," he said simply.
But thankfully, Narcissa seemed to understand, as a look of realization dawned upon her face. "Oh, of course," she said weakly. "I'm so sorry."
Harry waved her off. "It's fine," he told her. "But if you'd like, I'm sure if you wrote a letter, I could pass it along to him when the Weasley's next visit him."
She nodded distractedly, looking as if her mind was racing miles a minute. "That would be acceptable, thank you, Harry," she said.
Draco suddenly stiffened beside Harry, his grip on Harry going tight and harsh. "He's your guardian," he choked out, as if finally understanding.
"He's my Godfather," Harry confirmed, if a little stiffly as he was being crushed into Draco's side. "Can you just – loosen up a little?" He asked, fighting to move freely under the almost crushing weight of the blonde's arm.
Draco muttered something under his breath, too quiet for Harry or Narcissa to hear, and relinquished his tight grip on his squirming mate. He stood from his seat and walked over to the fireplace where his father stood, his back to Harry and Narcissa's inquisitive stares. Lucius seemed to understand, as a fairly sympathetic look was sent to the tense young vampire beside him.
Suddenly, Narcissa crowed with mirthful laughter, her hand flying to her cover her mouth as Draco winced and Lucius shot her an unimpressed look. She trailed off into a smattering of snickering at both Lucius and Draco, hand still in place. She turned to Harry, her blue eyes bright and dancing with laughter. "Draco is much in the same position Lucius was in when asking for my father's permission to court my hand," she explained mischievously, still the occasional laugh trailing between her words. "Sirius was raised a Black, irregardless of where he ended up in the four Hogwarts Houses and his alliances, and therefore, Draco must brave the Head of the Black family for your hand in bonding and marriage."
Harry glanced at Draco, fighting back a smirk at the ashen skin and anxious expression. Sirius would chew him up and spit him out, and it said as much on his face. "Well, at least we still have a year or so before that little conversation," he said cheerily, grinning widely. It took only a shared glance with Narcissa to bring him into laughing loudly, the humor of the situation not lost on him. Sirius was extremely protective of him, especially given the fact that he'd spent twelve years in Azkaban prison not knowing how Harry was, what his home-life was like and if he was safe. It wasn't likely that Draco would garner Sirius' trust, given the legendary hate for the Malfoy family, and the stories of Draco's and Harry's legendary spats over the five years they'd been at Hogwarts.
Draco would be hard-pressed to gain Sirius' acceptance of their bond, and Harry was looking forward to seeing just what Draco would do to win him over.
"Yes, well I think we can adjourn to the Great Hall for lunch," Lucius muttered wryly, a pale shade to his skin and a suspicious lack of light in his eyes. Harry assumed it was remembrance of his proposing of a courtship between he and Narcissa with the past Head of Black.
Narcissa let out a giggle, slightly pink cheeked from her amusement. "Yes, it is time for lunch, dear," she said, rising gracefully from her seat and gently flattening the creases from her sweeping skirts. "Draco, Harry, would you mind leading the way to the Great Hall? I believe Lucius needs a bit of a sit down before he engages any others in conversation. Bad memories, I'm sure you understand."
Draco was quick to snag Harry's hand and pull him from his seat, almost dragging him from the Creatures Nest in an effort to get away from whatever Narcissa was about to do to comfort Lucius. Harry trailed after him with an amused grin, still cheery from the news that Draco would have to face Sirius to get his hand.
"Shut up, you," Draco muttered, pink cheeked as he caught Harry's wide smirk.
"Didn't say anything," Harry answered easily. He needn't have said anything, the words were as clear as day on his face.
This is just the blurb for the soulmate thingy, thought you guys would like it!
The four phases of Soulbonding:
The Connection – The connection is a meeting of the two involved in the bonding, a sudden connection between the two that cannot be ignored or destroyed, and must be answered to.
Emotion – The emotion phase is a melding of the emotions, the magic of Soulbonding bringing down the barriers between the connected and allowing the two to feel the others emotions. The most treacherous of the four stages, as emotions are mainly the cause of arguments and fights, and the road of the journey; smooth, or harsh.
Telepathy – The magic of Soulbonding brings down the barriers between the two minds involved, allowing for the both of them to hear each others thoughts. One of the easiest of the four stages, as communicating telepathically is an upside to any private conversation. However, it is a danger considering the effects of Legilimency and the total failure of Occlumency, as one is unable to shield ones mind when it is open to someone else and bridging them together.
Soul – The final phase of the Soulbonding, allowing the two to connect wholly on the deepest level imaginable. There is a danger to this stage, as when the sealing of the bond is started, it is unable to be stopped and therefore, if there is any danger, one is unable to protect the other.