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Chapter 3: Finding out

Ever since his admission of curiosity, Draco had been discreetly searching. He didn't want it to show, seeing as no one was aware of the situation. He didn't even speak to his mother about it, for fear his father would intercept their correspondence – which he usually does. Over the week his symptoms grew steadily by the day. From having to glamour his face to hiding the bags under his eyes and the tears when he was far from his mate, whoever it was, to being irresistible and almost pleasant whenever he was near. He became weaker, he could feel it. Time passed by, and as days became two weeks he was growing tired, so immensely tired that he could no longer follow his lessons. He wanted to find out who his mate was, see if he could get close enough to just get his energy back.

It was his firm belief that his mate was a him, how exactly he did not know. He hadn't been able to pinpoint much of his mate, despite having looked for him. Though it must be said, that 'looking for him', mostly meant surveying the area whenever he felt better. He had come to at least one conclusion: His mate was either from Slytherin, from Gryffindor, Professor Binns or Professor Snape. What with Professor Binns being dead, generally speaking, and Professor Snape being... well Professor Snape; he ruled out the teacher's option. He didn't know any more than that.

He went into potions that Friday. His face was entirely glamoured to hide the redness of his eyes, the bags underneath them, the hollow of his cheeks, everything. There were times when he could swallow little things, times when he felt so incredible hungry, times when he could force himself to eat; but most of the time he just couldn't. He felt lethargic and empty. He hated to admit but he started seeing sense in needing another half. Though he felt certain that the shell he was becoming could not be half of who he is.

On the way into class he bumped into Ronald bloody Weasley. Draco himself was too tired for all this. He had successfully avoided the golden trio since his return to school, but he knew it couldn't last. He looked up and felt immensely better. His eyes opened behind his glamour and with a crack of his neck he felt alive again. There was a small group of people surrounding them, waiting for the blow to come.

"Watch where you're going, ferret," Weasley spat.

Draco looked at the red head and an internal smile found its way onto his face. Finally. He held his head high up. "You watch where you are going, Weasel. Your Mum has feed you so much this summer that you can't pass a door anymore without bumping into people", he said with an arched eyebrow towards Weasley's belly – which had indeed taken up some forms during the holidays.

Weasley pushed Draco back against the wall, and he burned at the touch. Weasley's arm was pushed against his neck and he couldn't breathe, not because of the pressure but because of the pain. He bit his lip to keep his outcry to himself and punched his knee in the man's crutch. He heard Blaise and Pansy encouraging him behind him whilst Granger and Potter tried stopping the larger Wizard. Weasley threw himself on Draco, punching right and left as the Slytherin used his intelligence to use the other's strength against him. Try as he may to avoid skin on skin contact.

But then several people made a grab for them both, trying to separate them, Draco felt burns all over him, like sharp finger nails scraping along every inch of his body, a discomfort, an itch beneath his skin, trying to make its way out. Then a hand grazed his arm and he started shaking. His heart stopped, the itch became a background noise and his breathe was taken from him. None of the other hands mattered to him anymore.

As soon as it came, it went away and it left Draco with a grave sense of loss, the return of the pain and the scratching more than he could bear. He pushed everyone out of the way, yelling, "Let me go, don't touch me!"

Every eye turned towards him with surprise. He was breathing heavily, and a whisper past through the people. He caught some of their eyes, he knew his mate was amongst them and some part of him was afraid to see the look he would give him after this undignified display, so he ran. He ran away from the crowd and from class, with no intention of coming back. Professor Snape wouldn't allow it, but fuck it, he had to go.

He never went to his other classes that day. Instead, he went up to the astronomy tower and remained there. He couldn't carry on like this, not being able or allowed to touch another, feeling tired and drained throughout the day, being thoroughly unhappy for no reason and just fine around some stranger. He decided it was time he found out who his mate was and then act accordingly. At least he could be prepared for things, and not just wait for things to randomly happen. He wanted to write to his mother, to ask for her advice, but the fear of his father kept him silent.

He vowed to do it all himself, to manage this year, his inheritance, his O.W.L.S and his pure blood upbringing, all by himself. First things first, he needed to find his mate to manage said inheritance. He was scared, he felt damn stupid admitting it, but part of him was afraid. He already felt imprisoned in his own home; he did not need all this on top of everything.

In History of Magic, Draco paid no mind and looked around him.

Blaise saw him and leaned closer, "So considering breasts are so disgusting, you looking for a nice dick or something?"

Draco sent him a side glance and replied, "Yes I do so enjoy a good dick. I can spot a good specimen from miles away."

And a specimen he was indeed looking for. He scanned the class room but his butterflies appeared for no one. He felt restless. His body was responding positively to being in the same room as his mate but emotionally he was in turmoil, all kinds of feelings were churning in his stomache. He knew he was close but he couldn't reach him. He was starting to want him near too, not just the animal side of him, as he liked to think. He wanted to feel like himself again, and it just wasn't coming. He got no new clue as to the identity of his other half.

It was during Lunch that something unusual happened. He was eating – picking at – his food of the day, hardly listening to the others. They were gossiping about this and that, new couples probably.

He caught Pansy saying, "And then there's the Weasellette and Pot-"

A pang in his chest cut her sentence as Draco emitted a low moan. It was like his birthday, he felt a stab, this time straight through his chest. He couldn't breathe anymore, holding his chest trying to grasp some air. His friends were soon by his side, holding him up and calling for help. He couldn't feel it anymore, he heard screams in the background of the tumult in his mind, the touches were only titillating his skin. He looked up at the ceiling, could see the rain from outside falling down but never touching him. And it all became dark.

Madam Pomfrey was then made aware of his condition, and Draco had called upon his right to secrecy, hoping to keep the information away from Dumbledore. He never did trust the old cow. The nurse had told him to go and find his mate as fast as he could. She explained that from then on it would go downhill fast and that he needed time to court his significant other before the madness would consume him. She let the word drop, and despite his best efforts to ignore it, it kept repeating itself in his head: death. He categorically refused to die over something so trivial as love, and that is where the discussion should end. That is where it ends, Draco added in thought.

Draco didn't dare show his face in class the next day, but he had too. He was missing out on too many lessons and the teachers had noticed his repeated absences. So, he went, knowing then that the entire school was aware of the previous happenings. What he encountered though, upon arriving in class was not he had expected. He had expected remarks and jests, but no one even spoke to him. No, everyone just stared at him. Every eye was trained to him as if they saw him for the first time.

Draco frowned and leaned over to Pansy, keeping a safe touch distance, and whispered, "Pans, do inform me, is there something rotting on my head?"

Pansy couldn't keep her eyes off him. Her mouth opened to speak but no words came out. Finally she replied, almost in wonder, "No... No Dray you just... You are just so beautiful."

"Beautiful?" He repeated incredulously.

They were staring at him, seriously, because they thought he was beautiful? I'd have said handsome or sexy, his mind supplied. He turned to look at the class, and indeed, most of them were simply fascinated; those that weren't seemed only disgusted by their classmates' attitude. Draco sighed and thought, Damn, you wouldn't think the same if I took the glamour off. Amongst all the girls he noticed some guys, people of little importance mostly. He did notice however that the Golden boy was sending him some odd looks, staring from the corner of his eye. My my, the-boy-who-lived will be baptised the-boy-who-sucks.

At the end of the day Draco did not return to his dormitory, he went to the lake instead. The temperature was mild and he stayed comfortably underneath his cloak. He was actually surprised at that, being comfortable. He felt no pressure, no hard feelings, and no discomfort. He had even removed the glamour because it weighed like an inch of make up on his face. He was finally just back to being himself. He did look around him but there was no one there. Everything was calm and he felt like a human again.

He closed his eyes and listened to the gentle breeze through the leaves, the water splashing softly with the movements of the giant Squid, the howling of werewolves in the forest.

"You look like shit Malfoy," a voice called behind him and Draco froze.

He turned round and looked at his nemesis with bloodshot eyes. He looked at him for a while, just observing. "What do you want Potter?" he finally asked.

Potter shrugged and leaned against a tree/ "Nothing really. Came to see if you've got another show to give; you seem to be fond of those lately," he replied.

Draco tore himself away and looked over the lake. "It's none of your business, Pothead. Go find your friends and leave me be."

Harry frowned and looked at his form. They stayed that way for a moment until Harry sighed and added, "You know you don't even sound like the Malfoy from before." And he turned and left.

Draco waited patiently for him to go as far as possible and then he buried his head in his hands with a sigh. Something beyond his control made tears run down his cheeks; he felt the sadness and for once knew why it was. He heaved a breath and looked up to the stars, whispering to anyone who would listen:

"Damn it. Harry Potter is my mate."

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*Edited