Thank you James Birdsong for your review!

GeneralUnicornDuckPudding: I'm glad you enjoy the vibe for now :) Hoping that this chapter meets up to your expectations, let me know!

Chapter Four

For the remainder of the following two weeks, Draco minimized his interactions with Potter and the world. He studied in the common room rather than the library and skipped as many meals as he dared.

He realized he wasn't really helping his case but for Merlin's sake this is Harry Potter.

He had started reading more about soulmates. He had of course done a fair share of research over the course of the summer in preparation of his birthday. But it hadn't really occurred to him to delve too deep into the subject of mates, and how one would have to deal with the fact that one's mate is an enemy.

His research did not really help him much, as it mentioned most things from the Veela's perspective. The way they would feel around their mate, the bonding ritual, the consequences of said bonding, the symptoms etc. There didn't seem to be a handy guide on "Being a Veela's mate". Something that would give him an insight on what Potter might be seeing or feeling, or not feeling.

He stopped reading because he noticed, with some degree of surprise, that it was making him feel sad.

Every story about Veelas centers around Love. Unconditional love. It was something that Draco was certain he had never had. Lucius' affection came with so many conditions and addendums, he's surprised they didn't have a written contract. Narcissa's love, while more genuine and more pure, had never been unconditional. Draco believed in her honesty and her care towards him, but he had known his whole life that it was more fragile than what people might normally see as a Mother's love.

He had never been in love, and never been loved. He had been desired, which had been pleasant in its own way. He had appreciated the attention, but it had always been fleeting and crumbled at everything resembling a conversation.

The reason the research made him feel sad, was because it was the first time he felt that unconditional love might be something he would want.

Something he also firmly believed he would never deserve and would never get.

The two meals he had taken in the great Hall, he had seen the way Potter looked at him - as if he could miss it when he's all he can see. But Potter looked at him the same most people did since his inheritance. Veelas are creatures of desire, they are beautiful in an ethereal way. He knew that Potter's looking at him meant nothing.

But it hadn't stopped him from hoping.

Sunday had been rough for Draco. He had started the morning feeling weak and tired, despite having slept 12 hours.

He had been woken in the middle of the night from another wave of energy crashing into him before promptly being ripped out from him. It had left him feeling dizzy and that feeling carried out throughout his wake.

He had decided to have breakfast to strengthen up a little but did a double take when his eyes immediately landed on Potter and the Weaselette eating off the same plate and laughing.

He had kept his composure as he went back to his common room. But inside he had felt all of it.

And he felt sick to the bone.

Not because he had seen them together.

But because he could see himself in the Weaselette's stead.

Potter had lifted his head and their eyes had met for an instant that felt electric.

It had followed Draco all the way back to his bed, where he slept the day away, feeling too drained to do anything else.

It was particularly late when he woke up to the snoring of his roommates and the deep growling of his own stomach.

He sighed and got up slowly. Hoping that maybe somewhere in the great hall some incompetent house elf had forgotten to clean up a plate.

He snorted internally, imagining his father rolling around his grave at the thought of his son eating scraps.

However there was no food to be found. As he walked around the great hall he felt a pang in his chest and sat down on the nearest bench. The pain spread from his rib cage to his throat.

He almost threw up when it crossed his mind it might mean that his mate was being touched…

I need air.

He rushed towards the hall to go outside and from the corner of his eye saw a bottle with a note attached in front of the great hall. He felt certain it hadn't been there before.

Cautiously he read the note.

Finished it alone you git.

Take some you might be less miserable.

If Draco hadn't recognized the handwriting, he would have guessed from the scent emanating from the object.

He closed his eyes and focused on that scent, on the feeling it gave him. It was like a bubble in the darkness, something he could sense from afar.

He concentrated deeply, focusing his energy onto the bubble, trying to expand it. Slowly it seemed to grow around him, taking in his surroundings.

Until he collapsed and had to breathe deeply.

He could expand the bubble a considerate amount but it took all his remaining strength. And all he could confirm was that Potter was not around him, but that he had been not long ago.

Draco smiled.

That meant Potter wasn't being touched by some redhead.

He took the potion softly and inspected it. It looked like a normal and safe Elixir to induce Euphoria.

He held it delicately against his chest and took it with him outside into the courtyard.

He would have walked further but felt too weak and sat on the stairs right by the door. At least he got some air. It felt soothing against his skin and calmed the nausea he had felt.

It did little to make him feel better though.

He clung onto the potion as if it might quench his Veela side.

It didn't.

He needed to have Potter close. The loss of everything in his absence was becoming increasingly hard to take. The darkness covering him in his solitude was weighing on him, veiling him under a growing pressure.

He wanted to consume Potter once and for all, and end this incessant need.

Without a single question he opened the small vial and drank it all in a single gulp, not even doubting that Potter may have done something to it, not realizing that he blindly trusted him.

He leaned back with a deep sigh, allowing the liquid to coat his mouth and throat.

He closed his eyes and felt the potion coursing through his veins, relaxing his muscles and letting him slowly lie on his back. He started to feel lighter, the buzzing in his head growing till it covered all of his thoughts.

Without thought, he opened his mouth and made an angelic sound, a single note that carried around him and melted into a soft melody.

It was like a call coming from deep within him. A melody he had always had, always carried, but that had never been allowed to come out.

More than a song whispered into a wishing well, it was a plea he shouted from the top of the mountain, echoing to the bottom and to the sky. There for anyone that would listen. He was laid bare for the world to see and hoped that somehow it would swallow him up.

He had no notion of time as the notes spilled out of him until he heard the door creak behind him and he choked on the melody that got stuck in his throat.

He got up fast and turned around, facing the one he knew would be there.

"Malfoy…" Potter whispered, "What… what was that?"

Draco swallowed and shared his intense gaze. "It…" he started, losing his train of thought instantly.

Damn you for making me lose myself.

He crossed his arms and lifted his head defiantly. "It's called singing, Potter. I don't expect you'd know anything about art." He bumped his shoulder trying to walk past, and regretted it immediately, as he said, "Now if you'll excuse me."

As he reached for the door, a hand slammed next to his head.

He couldn't breathe.

Potter moved closer until his chest was almost against Draco's back. He could feel the heat radiating through his clothes, constricting his heart and his lungs.

Draco turned around slowly and was faced with a profound look of confusion and anger from the Gryffindor. The latter's breathing was heavy and everyone of them hit Draco like a tidal wave.

So close he could not only see the details of Potter's features, he could feel them. The way his pores dilated, the way his teeth grit, the pulsing of his heart in his veins, Draco felt it all.

Potter leaned towards Draco, searching his eyes rapidly.

"What…" he started and slammed his face against the door next to Draco's head, startling him. "What have you done to me!" he demanded.

Draco started shaking, murmuring, "I didn't do anything…"

"You must have!" Potter practically shouted, "I didn't feel like this before, I know this is not normal. So tell me what the hell you did to me!"

"I didn't do anything!" Draco shouted back, losing control over his head and his heart, a searing pain coursing through him at Potter's anger. "I didn't fucking do anything to you! I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't?" Potter crossed his arms and glared at him, "You don't huh? So it's normal that you look differently to me? That I can't stop thinking about you, like a crazed obsession?!"

Draco's heart stopped at those words.

"I don't care about you!" Potter continued, Draco's heart dropped, "So you must have done something."

Draco felt tears pooling in his blue eyes, the thread linking them pulling harder, taking the part of his resolve he still has. The pain soaring through him shot at him like a gun.

He pushed Potter away, making him fall from the stairs and yelled, "I didn't do anything to you Potter! I don't control what happens in that thick skull of yours. I don't want to be in it and I don't want you in mine, so leave me the fuck alone !"

And for the second time that week, he bolted.

He couldn't take it.

Please like and review xxx

Also will be on holiday soon so hard to tell whether I'll update faster or slower...