The Bed I've Made

by asheacsm

Harry Potter is an abused boy, who has been forced to return to his abuser's home year after year. Draco Malfoy is a Veela, who just wants to be a good mate. Light side bashing, good/neutral dark side... nothing is as it seems. come along for the ride!

3. Talks

Thank you for returning to my nonsensical rambling! I hope you're enjoying my decompression work, because I am enjoying writing it when I can.

*MASSIVE CHILD ABUSE WARNING* for this chapter, any long portions of bold italicized writing should be skipped if you do not wish to read it!

"Blast that boy!" Dumbledore yells, pointing his wand at and destroying his desk, before his voice gets dangerously low, "Goes and gets himself mated to a family I have no control of! Couldn't have been a light family!"

'It's Tom Riddle all over again,' he seethes.

Tom, the boy who looked and acted just like his darling Gellert. He got it in the boy's head to seek immortality, and how does the boy repay him? Tom pushes him, Albus Dumbledore, away and history repeats itself!

Another Dark Wizard!

Albus had caught the boy early and did everything for the boy! Kept him out of trouble, extra lessons, cared when no one else did, allowed Hagrid to be expelled in exchange for keeping Tom and his pet safe...

He had even given Tom his heart!

And Tom went, turned his back on him and did exactly what Gellert did!

After all he did for him!

---

Fawkes watches his so-called master pace back and forth, disgusted at the man he has become. He'd have severed ties with the man had he not been worried about the students left in his care and what could happen if the Phoenix left.

Fawkes remembers the man when they first met; kind, humble, empathetic, powerful. Albus, now, is a completely different person... And it all started when he was tasked with bringing the orphaned Riddle boy into the Magical World.

Fawkes remembers the man feeding young Tom alcohol for the first time and how a few times later Albus' hand 'slipped' and it kept progressing from there...

"What's one more glass before you go?" he'd ask, invitingly.

"Oh, Tom, I'm sorry," Dumbledore would say sheepishly.

"Does this bother you, Tom?" Albus had asked, touching the boy or being too close.

"Do you like this, Tom?" the older man would ask, massaging the boy's body.

"What about touching me, Tom?" he then asked. It was reciprocal treatment, after a point.

"Come on, Tom, be reasonable. Now, that's a good lad," Dumbledore had said, if Tom asked to leave their 'tutoring' sessions too soon.

"Oh? You seem to like this very much, Tom," Albus said, first when he started making the boy hard when touching him, all the way when he would hit his prostate just right.

"Your moans are so intoxicating," the older man would pant.

---

Albus Dumbledore sits at his desk and wonders where it all went wrong with Tom.

Such a bright, talented, ambitious, intelligent, inquisitive, handsome boy he was.

His boy.

He couldn't think about Tom now, he has Harry to worry about.

Harry was supposed to stay at the Dursley house and the Dursley family was supposed to act the way he paid them too! Harry was supposed to grovel at his feet and see him as his hero against the abuses! Follow the path and plans he laid out for the boy!

Harry was supposed to prove that even with abuse, a light witch or wizard can still come out of it in the end!

Harry was supposed to prove that Tom was simply soulless. He had to be, to walk away from Albus Dumbledore!

"Don't get comfortable, Potter," Dumbledore states coldly, hissing, "You'll be back. I'll make sure of it. I didn't put that soul inside you for nothing!"

Albus takes a memory from his head in a shimmering, blueish, wispy strand and puts it in the pensive, then one more.

The old man removes his robes before viewing the memories.

A fifteen year old Tom Riddle: face flushed with embarrassment, hands covering his face, naked, laying on his back on Albus' desk. Knees bent in the air, his feet on the edge of the desk, leveraging him, his tight ass slightly over the edge. Moaning as he is being tongue fucked in his budded ass by a kneeling, sixty year old Albus.

It's Albus' birthday, after all, and this was his present, deflowering the best student to walk these halls since he himself was a student.

Tom's cock hard and dripping with precum, Albus enjoying the feel of Tom's light bucking of the boy's hips trying to and get some friction on his dick.

"Prof-fess-sor, p-ple-please, st-stop-p," Tom says, "I... I don't want-"

"Now, now, Tom," a younger Albus says, removing his mouth from the teen's ass, "You definitely like it more than you're letting on," he licks up Tom's long, hard erection, causing Tom to shiver with a disgusted pleasure, gasping when Albus' tongue goes between the slit in his tip, "You taste so good, Tom," the older man moans before circling and playing with the tip before taking it into his mouth.

"P-Prof-fessor, pl-pleas-se, st-top... You... You pro-promis-sed t-to st-stop, if-if I as-sked," Tom moans, his hand covers his mouth as he groans, deep in his throat, as Albus starts to bob his head, "Th-This isn-n't wh-what yo-you sa-said."

Albus puts his right hand at Tom's bud, after casting a lubricatin charm, and starts massaging it with a finely manicured index finger before sticking it inside the boy.

Tom tenses, a tear escapes him as well as a cold, sobering intake of breath, "N-No, profess-sor, please it hurts."

Albus slowly pumps his finger in and out, when Albus releases Tom's cock from his mouth, there is a loud, audible 'pop' sound, grabbing the dick with his left hand, "Relax Tom, stop fighting me. You and I both know you don't want me to stop," Albus says seductively, "Your hard, dripping cock and breathy sounds tell me you want this more than you're admitting to yourself."

Older Albus has his right hand on his length and strokes slowly, watching Tom squirm and moan with pleasure, wishing he was really doing all of this all over again.

Albus hits Tom's prostate and the boy bucks hard, biting his knuckle as he moans, "Right there, Tom?" he hits the spot again and Tom moans even louder, bucking his hips again.

Dumbledore removes his finger, only to cast another lubrication charm and stick two fingers in the lad, scissoring his anal cavity, preparing it for something bigger. Tom hisses in pain before squirming as he moans. Tears begin to fall more freely from the boy's eyes.

"Prof-fess-sor, n-no, plea-ease," the teen chokes.

Once Albus is convinced Tom is prepared enough, he removes his pants and stands, lining his own hard cock, coated in lubrication, with the boy's entrance.

Tom screams when Albus enters him for the first time, a light emanates from the boy's heart and Albus grabs his deluminator from his breast pocket and catches it to examine later.

Tom's tears fall violently, he whimpers and begs Albus to stop, that it hurts, "Just relax, Tom, it'll feel amazing soon."

Albus rubs Tom's dick with a lubricated hand as he thrusts, in time, Tom arches his back when the older man hits his prostate, "P-Prof-fessor! I'm gonna..." he pants.

"I'm close too, Tom, so close, my boy," he says, putting Tom's right leg over his shoulder and bending over him to deepen the angle.

"Pl-Please," Tom begs, Albus' hand rubbing his tip just right.

"What Tom? Please what? You can tell me," Albus purrs, "I want to hear you say it."

"Ple-ease, I... I wa-want to c-cum," Tom says, his voice raggid, pleading, his eyes begging for it all to be over.

"Then cum for me, Tom," Albus coos, "That's a good boy, cum for your dear professor," he pants, "You like my attention, don't you, Tom? You enjoy the way I make your body react. Cum for me, my boy."

Albus hits Tom's prostate making the teen arch his back and cum all over his stomach and Albus' silk shirt. Albus cums inside Tom's ass at the height of Tom's climax, "That's a good pet, Tom. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Albus starts licking up the cum from Tom's stomach before kissing him on the lips.

The memory dissolves into a more recent, Albus' dick is painfully hard and he's forcing himself to keep calm as he grabs, stretches, and kneads his scrotum before returning his attention to his dripping, twitching, needy cock.

A young Harry Potter, age eight, Albus had brought polyjuice potion and put the boy's Uncle in a magical sleep. Turning into Vernon after putting the man to bed, magically altering his memories, he goes to see Harry, who is dutifully cleaning the kitchen.

"Freak, I mean, Harry," Dumbledore-turned-Vernon says, "Come here and sit with me, bring two clean, empty glasses with you."

Harry does as instructed and stands next to his Uncle, "Come now, Harry, sit next to me on the cushion, you've worked hard these last few days and you deserve a break. Let's watch the telly for a while."

Harry's eyes gleam with hope and longing, his face confused, but he does as instructed.

Albus-turned-Vernon pours the child some amber liquid, "This will help with your aching muscles, it's a type of drink reserved for adults, but I think you deserve it."

Harry looks at the amber liquid, "It-t sm-smells li-lik-ke the b-bl-lea-each," his barely used voice squeaks.

"It'll help, I promise, make sure to drink it slow and drink it all. Is there anything in particular you would like to watch?"

"C-Can w-we w-wat-tch c-cart-too-oons? L-lik-ke D-Dud-dl-ley?" Harry asks hopefully.

"Of course we can," Albus turns the television on and flicks through to find the shows.

Harry sips on his drink and grimaces every time, Albus asking Harry questions about the show and listening to his speech as it starts to slur, his head begins to lull, "I-I fe-feel fu-funn-nny" Harry giggles.

Albus' eyes twinkle, "That's okay, Harry, the drink is supposed to do that," he places his hand on the boy's knee, "Does this feel good too, Harry?" slowly moving it upwards until he is right at the top of the child's thigh, his fingers brushing the boy's scrotum through his baggy shorts and lack of underwear.

Harry kept giggling as the man he thought was his uncle touched him so. Harry gasps when he feels Albus brushing against his balls with his fingers, "Unc-cle?"

"You've been a very good boy, Harry, and you've made me feel extra good before, remember?" Harry nods, "I think it's about time I repay you and make you feel just as good. What do you say?" Harry looks confused, but nods, not wanting to ruin his Uncle's good mood. He knows better than to tell Aunt Petunia, about Uncle Vernon being nice to him, "Very good, just watch the show and I'll make sure you feel extra good, but, first, you need to strip your clothes."

Harry does as instructed, albeit hesitantly and shaking slightly, Albus too removes his clothing, and watches the show as Albus runs his hands all over the boy's frame. Making sure to massage the child's thighs and brush his fingers on the child's erect penis, "Sit on my lap, Harry."

Harry does as he is told and sits on his Uncle's lap, "I-Is th-this g-good?"

Albus adjusts Harry to be sitting on his own erection, the appendage nestled comfortably between the boy's ass cheeks, the small scrotum slowly moving of it's own accord on the adult's member, tickling both of them, Harry's legs on the outside of his, spread perfectly, in Albus' opinion, "Ah, much better."

Albus starts to rub Harry's back then down to his ass, next his hands travel up and around his rib cage and start playing with the boy's nipples, before traveling slowly to his legs.

Harry giggles as his Uncle's hands travel around his body, it felt nice. When Albus-turned- Vernon's hand got to his pelvis, he felt both hands massage where the inside of his legs and his privates meet, it causes him to squirm from the unfamiliarity.

Albus moans as the child moves on his cock.

The right hand travels to grope Harry's balls and starts fondling them carefully, tenderly. The palm rubbing the child's erection.

"Lean back, Harry, relax," Albus coos, "That's a good boy."

Harry squirms and shivers as the older man touches him. It feels weird, secret. The warm palm gently touching his penis, Harry lets out a shaky moan at the sensation.

"Harry, if it feels good you're allowed to tell me," Albus says.

"I-It f-feels g-goo-ood," the child replies, not quite understanding what his Uncle is doing nor why his body is reacting the way it is, but not wanting to upset Uncle Vernon by telling him to stop and then getting hurt. He knows this feels good for his Uncle, so why did it make him feel so weird?

Albus smirks, "Is that so, sweetheart?" adding a bit more pressure on the child's erection, the boy moans and moves his hips, rubbing Albus' cock in the process, "Oh, you like this?"

Harry squeaks, "Y-Ye-es, Uncl-ce."

"I want you to be a good little boy, Harry," Albus says, "I want you to lay down on the couch. Can you do that for me?"

Harry nods, but before he can hop off what looks to be his Uncle's lap, the man's hands gently guide his hips on how he wants him to get off, feeling something sticky and wet touch his bum.

Harry lays down and Albus-turned-Vernon takes swig out of a silver flask and then turns back towards the boy, "Are you ready for me to teach you how to be an extra good boy?"

Harry nods. Albus-turned-Vernon starts gently assaulting the boy's genitals with his tongue and lips, before sucking his balls into his mouth.

"I-It f-feels g-goo-ood," Harry says, but looks confused, what his Uncle is doing makes his stomach do flips. Like this is wrong, but he wants to stay on Uncle Vernon's good side and wants to be praised for being a good boy.

Albus removes the scrotum from his mouth and licks up the boy's shaft before it, too, is taken into the man's mouth.

Harry squirms, pants and moans as Albus' warm mouth and slick tongue assaults his penis. It isn't long before the boy ejaculates into the man's mouth.

Harry's heart is racing, he feels exhausted, "Harry, flip over onto your tummy."

The boy nods and does as instructed, his feet on the floor, stomach on the cushions. Dumbledore-turned-Vernon massages the boy's ass, one hand for each cheek, before spreading him to expose his bumhole. Albus licks from Harry's scrotum to his tail bone, causing Harry to squirm.

Albus licks back down and stops at the bud. Albus' tongue circles the entrance, wide and growing closer, eventually playing directly with the opening, lightly poking it.

"U-Unc-cle?" Harry whimpers, his legs shaking, "Th-tha-at f-fee-eels w-weir-rd."

Albus puts his lips to the child's bumhole and moans, causing the boy to moan again from the sensation, "Weird can be a good thing, Harry. Now, why don't you be a good boy and make your Uncle feel as good as I just made you feel?"

Harry did as he had many times before, pleasuring his Uncle the way he knew he liked it, his Uncle had just never touched him, "Put your mouth around the tip, Harry," Dumbledore pants, "and swirl your tongue around it. Just like that, that's a good boy."

Albus doesn't last long once the child starts following his instructions, "Such a good boy, you are, Harry."

Living Albus doesn't last long after watching the memory disintegrate.

---

Harry and Severus walk through the flames, Severus' hands on Harry's shoulders to keep him steady. An aroma of red wine lamb stew and fresh baked bread assaults their nostrils.

"Keep calm and don't say or do anything foolish," Severus says again, taking his hands off the boy.

Harry nods, his face calm and collected.

They hear footsteps, two sets, approaching them from the hall.

---

"Draco, what in Merlin's name is going on with that boy?" Narcissa asks, worriedly, a cup of hot tea in her hands as she looks up at the clock. Harry's meeting with the Dark Lord should start at any moment.

"He's just having a hard time, mother," Draco states, "One minute he's fine and the next he's... not. He had mentioned he wishes to see a mind healer and I told him we would handle it while he was away."

"No one expects him to be as... fine, as you put it," Lucius adds, frustrated, "but I'm happy to hear he is wanting a mind healer. You're not being pushy, are you son?"

"No!" Draco yells, hurt that his father would think so little of him, "I would never!"

"I have no doubt, Dragon," Lucius says, hand raised, "I was merely asking, as I know how hard it is to keep one's hands to themselves once your mate initiates the second stage of the bond."

Draco's face pales some, his heart racing, "It is hard, but I'm trying to keep myself in check."

Lucius nods and Narcissa sighs, "I wish he had waited longer to initiate it."

"He... He thought he was helping, especially with the Weasley woman's accusations," Draco says sorrowfully.

"His kiss did help with that," Lucius states plainly, "There is no doubt now, but for his own well-being..."

Everyone in the room agrees that while it was good for their family, the kiss made it that much harder on their little brunette.

"Tell me about his nightmares," Narcissa starts in, she'll need as much information as possible before getting her old colleagues involved, "And don't leave out anything you know, Dragon, if he is serious about seeing a mind healer, I need to know details so I can rule out the ones that are not a good fit."

"He's only had the one that I know of," Draco says, "His first night. I have slept with him every night since, being held helps keep them away."

Narcissa nods, "And that dream?"

"He didn't say much about it, just that we sent him back and people were going to watch his uncle..." Draco couldn't finish the sentence, "I'm sure there's more, but that's all he told me."

Narcissa sighs, "I have no doubts that you're correct, but it's a shame he didn't say more..."

"And of his behavior when you're alone?" Lucius asks.

"He's worse off in the mornings," Draco says, "Flinching much harder and his stutter is worse than at the end of the day."

"That sounds like Severus," Lucius said, "He was always worse off in the mornings at the beginning of term... Sev had mentioned that his own mind healer said it's because the brain does a type of 'reset' at night, still anticipating the abuse, but that should get better with time and him being with us."

"He..." Draco tries to find a way to phrase it, "He had... tried to scare me away the other morning, with a magical display."

"What?" both adults ask, but Narcissa continues, "What do you mean by that, Draco?"

"He had a panic attack when we woke up the other morning-"

"When he said it was a difficult one? When I caught you two on the floor in the restroom?" Lucius asks, trying not to let his frustration and disappointment show in any form.

Draco could feel it though, he knew he screwed up, nodding, "He'd woken up and I held him to me... Then something snapped and he bolted for the bathroom, became sick and then curled up into himself... His magic produced a wind and some... lightning? But when I didn't run and sat down with him, it started to disappear and, next thing I knew, I was being tackled and Harry was sobbing in my arms."

Lucius pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes closed, and exhales deeply. Narcissa is looking at the steam coming out of her tea cup.

"And you didn't think to grab an adult?" Narcissa asks, finally looking at her child.

"I caused it," he stated flatly, "I needed to be the one to fix it."

Lucius nods, "Who knows what would have happened if he had left Harry, Cissa, we could be in St. Mungo's right now..." the unspoken reasons as to why hang in the air, each one worse than the last.

"Are there any other incidents that you unwittingly caused?" Narcissa asks, not harshly, just needing the facts, but it is hard to not get emotional about it.

Draco swallows his saliva thickly and nods, his mother motioning for her son to continue, "We... We were laying down, just woke up, he turned his head to yawn and I touched his neck-"

Lucius stares at his child pointedly, "Why?"

"I didn't think he would react that way over a light caress on his neck," he responds sheepishly, "I had thought about kissing his pulse point, but-"

"Well, thank Merin you didn't do that!" the older Veela groans, putting his head in his hands.

"After he calmed down, though, he grabbed my hand and started moving it around to touch his head and neck... He was very meticulous about me touching his neck," Draco finishes softly.

"He was choked, Dragon," Narcissa explains, "So many times... He was probably trying to disassociate the intimate touch from you with the pain his family caused... Anything else?"

And on it went, Draco trying to pinpoint little things that could help his parents help his mate. Dinner is served and Draco keeps talking.

"That's all good, Draco," his mother says, "This will help narrow down which colleagues I should turn to."

"That being said, Draco," Lucius adds a little edge to his voice, "You need to try and be a little smarter in regards to your mate. I know it's hard, and you're doing great, I just need you to remember how he acted when you did similarly previously and let that guide you on how to act for the foreseeable future. Do you understand? You are his Dominant, and right now what he needs most protecting against is his own mind. If it were simply an outside force, this would be a 'cakewalk', as they say, but when it's your own mind or body..."

"I understand, Father," Draco responds, his heart heavy.

They share dessert in silence, each with heavy hearts and even heavier thoughts.

They all head to the fireplace to wait for the two brunette men to come back. Narcissa with a book, and the two males starting a game of chess.

---

Harry is led to a room with many plants, Severus walking stiffly, by Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. A round table, no more than two meters in diameter, is set for two, not five, not three.

Two

Severus wouldn't be joining them.

The Lestranges had only said eleven words to them since the two brunettes have entered their home, clearly not happy with things at the moment, "Severus, Potter, this way. The Dark Lord mustn't be kept waiting."

Harry feels nervous, but shakes it off and focuses, it will be fine so long as he stays calm.

"Severus, you will come with us to the banquet hall while Potter, here, will dine with our Lord in this room," Rodolphus states, leaving no room for arguments.

Severus looks at Harry with a scowl, "I assume the Dark Lord will retrieve me once your meeting is complete. Don't do anything stupid."

Severus and the Lestranges leave him alone, waiting for Tom to arrive.

It isn't long, five minutes of Harry listening to his heartbeat in his ears, looking at all the magical flora.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, I'm happy you have decided to join me so soon," a silky baritone voice says.

Harry momentarily freezes, then turning to face the man.

Harry's jaw slackens.

Here is Tom, only, he looks like the school boy from the memory in the diary he destroyed at the end of his second year, "Tom?"

Dark, wavy hair, regal features, honey-silk voice... Oh yes, this was the Tom he fought his second year, the only difference is his gleaming red eyes, compared to his milk chocolate brown eyes.

Those red eyes, giving him a pointed look, "The only person to still call me by that cursed name is Albus, when did you think you could start calling me that?"

Harry's mouth goes dry, he can see now why Tom was able to gain so many followers in his youth, it hadn't occurred to him second year, "It's your given name. You are no Lord to me nor will I call you by the name that you used while you killed my parents. You said you wished to speak with me, and I thought it would be best to be on neutral footing."

Tom appraises him, a cold, calculating look on his face, before softening, "I see... Well, why don't we sit and we can discuss things over dinner, yes?"

"More like you talk and I listen, correct?" Harry says, it's how adults always talk to him about things that are important.

"I expect a conversation, feel free to interrupt if you wish for clarification," Tom says, moving towards the table, "I think you'll be interested in a brief history of, well, me and everything up until now."

Harry walks over to the opposing side of Tom, his face betraying nothing, "Before we begin, why couldn't Severus be here?"

"Because my hosts would also want in on the conversation and we would get nowhere. Don't you worry, Harry, he is quite safe and so are you."

Harry hums, nodding, "Well, we should get started, shouldn't we?"

Tom smiles, an easy smile that people would lose their mind over if Tom was flirting with you, "Eager to get back to your mate? I must say that I didn't see it coming, but it's... fitting. Young Malfoy and you, but from what I've seen in the paper, you are a good match. I am sorry to hear that the blood-traitor said such horrific things to you about your sexuality. I wonder where she obtained such... muggle sentiments."

"I... Thank you," Harry says, confused.

"Now, where to begin?" Tom brings a long, elegant finger to his chin after waving off Harry's verbal gratitude, "Might as well start from the beginning," he decides, "I was born from a witch who was despised by her family from birth, a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin. She fell in love with a wealthy, Muggle man named Tom Riddle. I am a product of her running away and using love potions on him. She eventually gave up using the potions, whether it was because she felt guilty or because she thought he would actually love her back, I do not know, but he left her, several months pregnant with me. She died giving birth to me in an orphanage.

"That orphanage was my personal hell. The children were cruel and one day my magic retaliated, and, slowly, I learned how to control it. Wordless and wandless. I was rather proficient before Albus came to tell me I was magical. The children learned to keep their distance, although nothing could ever be proven to have happened because of me.

"Albus took me to see the Magical World for the first time. He was so nice to me. Answered every question, let me drag him to every store and stall, made me feel special... But there was a price to be paid for being Albus' favorite, his pet."

Harry looks up at this, pays closer attention. Dumbledore couldn't have... Wouldn't have...

Did Tom go through what he, himself, went through at the Dursley house? But... With Dumbledore?

Tom sees the realization hit Harry, but sees something more, understanding, and it ignites a pain within his heart, "Albus would give me private lessons, and in those lessons he would let me have a drink of his private stock of alcohol. Soon, though, the drinks turned to 'accidental' touches and things progressed from there," Tom ends bitterly.

Harry looks at Tom, whispering, "H-He... Oh, Merlin..."

"I... I thought it was something I could ignore and it would stop, and the man who was so nice to me before would get back to normal, and I would just get through it... But anyway," shaking the thoughts away, "He got it into my head to go looking for immortality. That's when I found the theory of Horcruxes and Albus suggested I should look into it further-"

"What are Horcruxes?" Harry asks, interrupting, he knows Tom said it was okay, but he can feel Tom's magic flare in minor annoyance, before controlling himself.

"Ah, yes, that's probably important, no?" Tom says playfully, "A Horcrux is a piece of someone's soul. First you have to rip the soul in two, and one way to do it is by murdering someone without remorse, and the other," he takes a shaky breath, "is to be violated as a child by someone the child trusts wholly."

Harry looks at Tom, and, for the first time, seeing himself in the man.

"You see, Harry, Dumbledore took a piece of me the day he first raped me," Tom watches as Harry flinches at the word, making a mental note of it, puzzled, "That particular piece returned to me during the ritual in the graveyard. I have a theory that Albus held onto that innocent, light portion of my soul for all those years and when I disappeared, he put that light in you. I don't know why, but that's the only way I can explain how it returned, as well as my sanity and youth," Tom pauses a moment, waiting to see if Harry has questions or a comment, "After my light was taken from me, I lost sight of the man I wanted to become.

"I wanted to join the ministry and protect magical children from the muggles, bring them in sooner, teach them what Pureblood children learn from birth, and have a whole department dedicated to checking in on them and taking them away from abusive homes and placed with willing families. After, though, all I wanted was the world to burn.

"So, I looked further into Horcruxes during school holidays, because Hogwarts refuses to teach anything useful about Dark Magic. I learned that I could put memories into the Horcrux, to rid myself of them and keep them locked away. I did, terrible memories of when that man wronged me, violated me, those twinkling blue eyes, that breathy tone, how he would say my name.

"The night I went to kill you and your father, I thought the prophecy was about me, but now... Now I think it has to do with Albus. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have abandoned my dreams. I wouldn't have killed and had people killed in my name, for a twisted version of the cause I originally wanted to put in motion.

"After my light was returned to me, I went and collected my other Horcruxes and broke the enchantments. I now sit before you, nearly, whole. The only Horcrux I won't break is Nagini, because she is a living being and I don't know if I can remove it without harming her."

"But, it was removed from me," Harry says, a question on the tip of his tongue.

"Yes, but Nagini is not an ordinary snake, Harry, she was once a beautiful woman, she is under a blood curse that turned her into the snake you know today. I do not know how the removal will affect her. I assume that the soul piece inside you recognized me, where it is supposed to be, and wasted no time in returning to me during the ritual that brought me back."

"I... see..." Harry says, feeling terrible for the snake, the woman, and Tom, "And what exactly is the point in this meeting?"

"I want to see if you are able to see me as more than the monster I was. To offer an apology, and a peaceful existence from this point forward."

"No more trying to kill me?"

"I have no need, interest or desire to harm anyone, except Albus," Tom says, "No one has seen my real face in decades, I hope to restart my original, childhood goals to help children."

Harry bites his lip, not sure he believes the man in front of him, but then a sickening thought hits him, and whispers, "Do... Do you think he put my uncle up to molesting me? Or could have used polyjuice?"

Tom didn't have time to answer before a green Harry shoots up from his chair and goes to throw up what he had just eaten into a flower pot.

Tom's red eye went wide, before summoning a cool, wet cloth, walking over to the child and putting the cloth on the back of his neck.

"I cannot say, Harry, but we will get to the bottom of everything. Together, if you wish."

Harry doesn't reply, in favor of throwing up again in the pot. His mind racing, the crawling feeling returning to his skin, the need to take a shower right now and scrub his skin raw.

He should have figured it out sooner! Uncle Vernon was never gentle, it was Dumbledore who was the kinder one. Dumbledore was the one who gave him alcohol. Dumbledore was the one who kept him in that house so the old man could have unlimited access to him.

He put the light of Tom in him and used him as a replacement for Tom and however many other people he could get his hands on over the years. He had seen payments to the Dursleys from the surface audit! He paid them to be terrible human beings! Or used the Imperius and this is how he was covering his tracts!

Dumbledore and his cursed twinkling eyes!

Tom finds himself in a position he never anticipated with this meeting. He knew Albus shouldn't be around children after what the man did to him, but he never imagined the bastard would go this far... The older man summons a glass of water for the child.

Once Harry stops throwing up his stomach contents, he continues to dry heave for a few minutes more. He puts his forehead on the cool pot and tries to soothe his pounding head and relax his racing heart.

"Harry, here's a glass of water. Sip on it, take it slow," Tom instructs, "It'll help soothe your throat. Take your time."

Harry takes the offered glass and takes a sip, removing the taste of vomit and bile from his mouth. Tom walks back over to his seat and waits patiently for Harry to rejoin him at the table.

It takes Harry a few minutes to find the strength to stand and rejoin the table, his appetite gone, "I'm sorry about... that."

"There's nothing to apologize for," Tom says, taking a sip of amber liquid, "If I may be so bold, Harry, your reaction explains why the Veela Court has placed you in the custody of your mate's parents. I was curious, but I now have, at the very least, a basic answer. Now, I have questions for you and I'm sure you have questions for me. I ask one, you answer, then you get to ask and I answer and so forth."

Harry thinks for a moment, "Fine."

"You first, Harry," Tom says, fingers laced together, elbows on the table, chin resting on his fingers.

Harry thinks a moment, deciding to start with something to ease into this, "Why do you look the way you do?"

Tom had expected a million different questions, this one makes him smirk, "Because the two biggest portions of my soul were cut from me at around this age, so my body has returned to the way it appeared when those portion were severed," Harry nods, still confused, but as he doesn't know the intricacies of the magic used, he feels satisfied enough, "How do you feel about being the Malfoy heir's mate?"

Harry gives him a confused look, but answers nonetheless, "I'm... working through it. It's weird, we've hated one another since I refused his hand in friendship at the start of first year, fought constantly, but I've agreed to leave the past behind and start fresh. It's actually been nice to have someone genuinely care and be patient about things," Tom nods in understanding, "What happens now that you're giving up the bloodshed? It wouldn't surprise me if some of your followers were not on board with the change in tactics."

Tom thinks it over, contemplating the unspoken implications, "My followers will be released of their marks and nothing they do further will be in relation to me. I have been using a glamour in front of them as not to share my current appearance so when I re-enter society, I will blend in and be able to do what I had originally wanted without the stain of being Voldemort. Tell me, have you considered a mind healer?"

"Lucius suggested one and I am seriously considering it," Harry replies before taking a sip of water, his stomach uneasy, "You said you use a glamour in front of your followers, why not use it with me as well?"

"Because I want you to be able to trust me, in a way. It allows you to be able to recognize me when things are put into motion and you won't go telling the world about who I actually am and the atrocities when I'm turning a new leaf, as they say," Tom says like he's simply discussing the weather, "If my followers were to know my face, they could attempt to blackmail me to gain access where they shouldn't. What are your plans for after Hogwarts, now that you can be certain you have a future?"

Harry has a lot of questions now, but it is his turn to answer, "Most people expect me to be an Auror, like my father, to honor him and get revenge for their deaths that way... I honestly expected to die in the end, so I hadn't put much thought into life after the war..." Tom nods, wondering how this boy can speak of his own death and mortality so plainly and without care, "Despite what people think, because of my overly Gryffindor actions at school, I don't want to fight and be in constant danger. I actually enjoy cooking, despite the crap my family put me through. I might go to Muggle culinary and dessert schools and open a little café and bakery. Why are you trusting me with this big secret?"

Tom looks at the boy for a moment, regarding him, "Because I have put you, specifically, through a lot of pain all these years, and if anyone deserves to turn me in, blackmail me and so forth, it is you. I don't wish to be the monster any longer, I want to help magical children, and I am hoping you will, at least, give me the chance to be the man I should have been all along. If I don't meet your expectations, by all means turn me in, but I ask for this opportunity to attempt to right my many, many wrongs. I will do what I can to help you in regards to Albus, as well. Who all have you told of your abuse?"

This question was not one Harry was expecting, biting the inside of his cheek, "Enough people to be let down time and again, but now I think I know why," Tom gives him a pointed look and Harry sighs, "My parents' friends, my friends, my head of house, one of my muggle elementary school teachers... My elementary school teacher got fired because the caseworker who came to the house didn't believe it. I was beat and locked in my cupboard for a week without food after she left. When I told my godfather the worst of it and he still sent me to them... I lost my will to go on, but then Draco and Lucius came and saved me. The people who hated me, people who don't even know me, my enemies... Why is it those people who are trying to help me, when people who supposedly care about me kept calling me a liar? Because Albus manipulated everything so he could play the grandfather everyone looks up to," Harry says, a fury in his voice.

Tom looks at Harry in shock, "And how have you come to this conclusion?"

Harry shakes his head, collecting himself and his thoughts, taking another sip of water, before explaining his thought process. Tom, now looking about the same as Harry had before his head was in the pot, comes to think the boy may be right, "So, how did you choose your victims to make your Horcruxes?" Harry asks, wanting to get back to their little question game so he can learn more about Tom and what type of man he is.

The older man looks at the younger, sighing, "Almost all of them had wronged me in some way. My father and his family abandoned me to be mistreated in that orphanage. That girl who died in the bathroom at Hogwarts, she was bullied, but she was a bully too and had taken her frustrations out on the ones she thought she could get away with. A Muggle Tramp who tried to kill me, turns out she was a serial killer, killing her clients. An Albanian Peasant who attempted to mug me. Hepzibah Smith, a wealthy witch who liked young men and younger. Bertha Jorkins... That woman died because I was so far gone at that point," Tom concludes, "What do you want to happen at the end of the investigations into your... upbringing?"

Harry stares at Tom, wondering why he is interested in knowing these details about him, "I want the people who hurt me to be punished, and to watch as everything they thought they had control of starts to fall apart. I want to be left alone and be normal, for once," Harry's voice cracks on the last word, getting another drink of water, his eyes welling with unshed tears, "Why my family?"

t"There's a prophecy... I only know the first portion of it and after that is a mystery to me. I was trying to keep it from happening, but I acted as a Gryffindor with too little information and probably set the whole thing in motion. When my light returned to me did I have some clarity on the situation that I didn't have before. Do you feel any different since the portion my soul left you?"

Harry's mind is reeling over the fact there's a prophecy, he keeps is eyes and face blank as he processes this information, wondering what it says, "Um... I don't know, it's been a jarring couple weeks... What do you mean there's a prophecy?"

"I wish I could say I'm surprised you don't know of it's existence, but Albus did always like to manipulate the situation with everyone else left unawares," Tom says, exasperated, "As I said, I don't know most of it, but every real prophecy has a record in the Ministry. Only the person to whom the prophecy belongs can retrieve it. Majority go unfulfilled. You should see if Lucius would be willing to take you in and see if you can get it, it might hold some answers for you. Would you be willing to allow me to use your history at your relatives to put my plan into action? It would be most helpful, if I could."

Harry contemplates the proposal, "I don't know how I feel about that, but considering that when the investigations, testimony, evidence and the verdict are handed down, that everything will be reported on and shit dragged everywhere... I suppose it's a good idea to let this start the change needed to protect other kids," Harry says in a shaky voice. He hadn't realized this would be what they discussed and he's starting to lose his composure, "Why didn't you report Dumbledore?"

The top of Tom's ears turn pink, eyes cast down, clearly embarrassed and ashamed by the question, "I was... scared, and ashamed. Like it was my fault and I must have given him a sign to continue the... practice," Tom sees the understanding in the boy's eyes, "I'm sorry, Harry. If I had, this whole affair could have been avoided... I just didn't think he would do it to anyone else..."

"It's not your fault," Harry says, "It's Albus Dumbledore's fault."

The conversation continues like this until the first stars of night begin to appear. Tom had asked about the altercation with the Weasleys and the aftermath of it, the Malfoys, his nightmares. Harry asking about Tom's crimes, and more elaborations on his story.

"I think we have worried your mate long enough," Tom says once satisfied with the conversation, standing, "You stay here and I will fetch Severus. I will call us together once more soon. You will not see me once I leave this room."

Harry doesn't protest nor say anything else as Tom puts his glamour on while turning the knob, before exiting. Harry let's out a long breath, wondering why Tom had asked the questions he had. It was obvious to Harry why he asked the questions he had, but Tom wanted to know about him, as a person...

'Do I trust him? Not really, but if what is going on now protects me and the Malfoys and it could protect other kids... Do I really have a choice?' Harry muses.

It isn't too long after that Severus knocks on the door and comes in, "Come on, Potter, quickly," his tone strict and indifferent. Harry gets up and makes his way to the Potions Master and they make their way, briskly, to the fireplace, "When we get through, you will not fight Draco," he warns, "You can fight him about his treatment later, but when he is in his primal state, there is little reasoning with his, especially with you being in enemy territory and he wasn't here to protect you. You must understand that he needs to do this to comfort himself and you, if you require it. We will discuss your meeting when Draco is calmed."

"I understand, sir," Harry says quietly.

Severus nods, taking the powder and calling for Malfoy Manor, taking Harry's shoulders before walking through.

---

Hearing the floo, all Malfoy heads turn to see the green flames and their two brunettes walking through.

Lucius and Narcissa sigh in relief.

Draco stands up and quickly walks over to Harry and pulls the smaller boy towards him, encasing the smaller in his arms and holding him tight, "I-I'm okay," Harry whispers, wrapping his own arms around Draco.

"I'm going to see that you are, myself," Draco says, "Come along."

None of the adults stop them, none of them wishing to be in the middle of the new Veela and his mate that he's been worried sick about since said mate had left.

"I see you're both back in one piece," Lucius remarks.

---

Harry can barely keep up with the brisk pace of Draco dragging him to his room without doing a small jog. He can feel the larger boy's hand begin to get rougher.

Upon reaching the door to Harry's room, Draco quickly gets the door open and rushes them both inside. Before the door clicks shut, Draco's form has changed into the bird one from earlier.

Once again, Harry is brought towards the blonde, where he is once again pulled close and wings cocoon around them.

"Draco-"

"Stay. Please."

"-let me use the restroom. You get on the bed and I will be there in a moment."

Draco reluctantly allows his mate to leave his arms, he doesn't want his little one out of his sight, but this wasn't the fight to have.

As Harry enters the bathroom, Draco hears his mate's stomach growl and immediately calls Rispa and Miptsy to prepare tea and food for his mate. Anger surges through him that his mate wasn't fed.

Harry comes back out and walks over to the bed, he takes a moment to take his masks down as he walks. He knows Draco won't believe he's okay if he has them up.

Without his masks, the brunette starts to shake, his adrenaline coming down, the crawling sensation returns, tears start to form and fall. Suddenly aware of everything he learned and the implications behind them.

Draco wastes no time getting his mate back in his arms, he jumps up, picks his mate up and lays them both down. Draco nuzzles Harry's neck and begins running his taloned hand over his body, checking for anything to be wrong physically.

The house elves arrive with tea and food, and Draco chirps out, "Eat," he detangles himself from his mate, helping Harry sit up, as Harry's stomach grumbles again.

Harry listens to his Dominant, he is hungry. He squeaks when Draco pulls him into his lap, but quickly settles into the warmth. He eats a sandwich slowly, as Draco holds him tight around his middle, chin resting on his shoulder.

After eating what he can, he leans into Draco. The beak is set against his cheek, it feels cool on his warm face, and sighs in relief.

The crawling of his skin has all but disappears, and he's eaten all he can while still feeling ill from his meeting with Tom.

"Warm," Draco chirps, putting his cool talons on Harry's forehead, "Ill."

Harry hadn't read anywhere about the Veela in this form talking, so he wonders if this is normal... Maybe a letter to Fleur would do him some good sooner rather than later.

"Dr-raco?" Harry whispers, the Veela squeezes him a little to show he's listening, "I... D-Dumb-bled-dore is a b-ba-ad m-ma-an, an-n-nd," he chokes out before taking a deep, shaky breath, tears falling, "an-nd I-I-I-I th-thin-in-nk-k h-he us-used-d p-pol-lyj-jui-uice t-to l-loo-ook-k l-lik-ke m-my U-Unc-c-cle a-an-nd... an-and... t-t-tou-ouch-ched m-me t-t-too."

Draco freezes, his heart aching, his blood screaming to go hunt down the headmaster, but Harry clings to the arms wrapped around him and begins to sob. Draco wraps them in his wings and alternates between trilling and purring as he holds his mate close and rocks him.

Harry turns to face Draco and puts his head in the crook of the older boy's neck, "Th-Tha-at-t's wh-hy h-he kep-pt s-sen-nd-ding m-me b-bac-ck, b-bec-cau-ause h-he c-coul-ld bl-blam-me i-it al-ll on-n m-my r-rel-lat-tiv-ves."

"Mate. Safe. Now. Protect. Forever," Draco's words come out choppy, each word emphasized.

Harry's body shakes uncontrollably as he unleashes his emotional turmoil. Draco holds his little one to him and imagines all the ways he would torture and kill the old man. The smaller boy cries himself to sleep in Draco's arms.

The larger boy lays them down, "Never. Let. Go. Mate. Promise," Draco whispers, his talons carding through dark locks.

He feels Harry attempt to bury himself deeper into the blonde's chest, as if to tell him he heard what he said and he isn't going anywhere.

Sleep all but eludes Draco, too worried about his mate. When he eventually falls asleep in the early hours of morning, his sleep light and uneasy.

"Dr-rac-co? C-ca-an yo-you l-le-et m-me g-go s-so I-I c-ca-an u-use th-the re-rest-tr-room?" Harry whispers, waking his Dominant.

Draco reluctantly does as asked, sitting up when Harry leaves the bed and calling on house elves to bring tea and breakfast once the door closes, "Inform. Parents. Not. Leaving. Room. Today," he adds before they pop off.

Harry wonders how comfortable Draco was sleeping in his primal form, Harry knows he slept uneasily and is now groggy and sore all over. He just wants to lay in bed and forget the world outside exists. That he, himself, exists...

There's a pit in Harry's stomach and he has more questions than answers when it comes to the people he thought he could trust, even his own mind.

He had had dreams at school where Uncle Vernon would be there, in classrooms, and... Were those real? Really real? Dumbledore behind them real?

Harry puts his hands on the sink and throws up bile. Thinking back to when these dreams would happen at school, how nice Vernon would start out being, continued to be... He now knows that only when Vernon was truly vile was either an actual dream or actually the muggle man.

Harry walks out of the restroom after doing his business, and emptying his stomach to the point that blood started making an appearance, and sluggishly makes his way back to bed. Choosing a cool pillow to put his face in as he flops down, moaning as the cool fabric touches his skin.

Draco can feel his mate struggling and lethargic, "Ill," it wasn't a question, "Touch. Mate. Back? Massage? Breakfast. Arrive. Soon."

Harry smiles as he listens to Draco's choppy speech, "Ok-kay," he replies, turning his head towards the blonde, "I-I'm s-sor-rry, y-yes-st-terd-day... I-I w-wa-asn-n't p-prep-pared f-for wh-wha-at I-I l-lear-earn-ned a-an-nd... N-No-ow as-assu-ume..."

"Hush. Rest. Later. Bath. Help. Relax. Touch. Back. Now," Draco chirps softly, putting the large smooth portions of his claws on Harry's back, who still flinches before relaxing into his touch.

Harry's back is coated in sweat and Draco can feel the heat radiating from the little male. Draco is careful not to touch below his mate's ribs, trilling as he feels Harry's muscles start to unknot and relax.

Harry once again wishes for a television, a radio or even a record player to keep his mind from wandering. Wondering if maybe it would be rude to ask for any of these to keep his mind distracted.

"Mate. Troubled. Explain. Please."

"I-I... I-It-t's j-jus-st qu-qui-iet a-an-nd m-my mi-in-nd t-tra-av-vels wh-where I-I d-don-n't w-wan-nt i-it t-too," he whispers, "I... I-I j-jus-st wi-ish th-there w-was a r-ra-ad-dio o-or a-a rec-cord p-play-yer o-or ev-ven a-a t-tel-lev-vis-sion s-so I-I c-can f-foc-cus m-my m-min-nd el-els-sewh-where."

Draco trills, sadly, in understanding, "Which. Mate. Prefer? Get. Immediately," although he wonders what a television is and if he, too, would like it.

"It-t d-does-sn-n't ma-matt-ter," Harry says quietly, before moaning as Draco's cool talons touch his bare, hot neck.

"I. Go. Run. Mate. Bath," not liking the heat radiating off his little one, "Will. Call. Mother. Potion. Needed."

Harry doesn't fight, he doesn't have the will to at this moment. He feels Draco leave the bed, the next minute the tub is running, and the familiar crack of a house elf popping in and out.

Draco returns after the tub is shut off, but doesn't return to the bed as there is a knock on the door, of which he answers.

"Draco, Pippie said your mate is ill," Narcissa says, "Here's a fever reducing potion, a nausea relieving potion and a nutrition potion. Let me know if you need anything else, we will be popping out to get what you have asked for. Your father and I will be back shortly."

"Thank. You. Mother," Draco chirps, closing the door.

Harry keeps his head in the pillow, he can feel the dampness he is producing. Feeling the older boy sit down on the bed, "Mate. Drink. Please. Will. Help."

Harry turns to face Draco, his molten eyes showing love and concern. He adjusts himself to sit comfortably, takes the fever reducer and, almost instantly, feels himself start to cool down, "Th-Than-nk yo-you."

"Worried. Submissive," Draco chirps.

"I-I'm ok-kay," Harry says, his voice betraying him, sounding exhausted, "I-I'm-m a-alw-ways ok-kay."

"Liar. Please," Draco chirps, sadly, "Here. Take. Care. You."

Harry watches him wring his taloned hands together, "D-Drac-co," he pauses nervously, but then the house elves pop in dropping off breakfast.

"Miptsy and Rispa is being here dropping off young masters' breakfast: pancakes and fresh berries with bacon and sausage," Miptsy says.

"We's broughts tea, water and pumpkin juices too," Rispa adds.

"Th-Than-nk y-you, Mip-pt-tsy, Risp-pa," Harry says, they nod with goofy grins on their faces before popping off.

"Mate. Potion," Draco says, holding out the anti-nausea potion.

The brunette takes it, sheepishly, "Th-thank-ks, Dr-rac-co," he says before downing the potion.

Draco watches Harry eat most of the berries and a piece of bacon, before he stops. The Veela doesn't say anything, although he wishes his mate would eat more.

"Take. Bath. Relax," Draco says, after Harry finishes off his tea and final potion, he doesn't want his brunette out of his sight, but knows Harry wouldn't want him to join.

Harry knows he needs it, and sees the anxiety seeping from Draco. The brunette knows the blonde doesn't want him out of his sight. Harry is well aware that his Dominant is distressed and needs certain things from him right now.

He takes a shaky breath, "Dra-ac-co?" the blonde looks at his mate, "Wh-Why d-don-n't yo-you j-joi-oin m-me?"

Harry watches as Draco physically relaxes, before stiffening again, "Mate. Not. Comfortable. Join."

"I-I'm a-ask-king," Harry says, pushing the memories of his Uncle and a polyjuiced Dumbledore from his mind, "W-We-e'll j-jus-st l-leav-ve ou-our b-box-xers o-on," Draco looks unconvinced, "P-Ple-eas-se, Dr-rac-co?"

Draco's eyes search Harry's, "Okay... Mate. Tell. Need. Leave."

Harry smiles, there's a knot tightening in his stomach as he becomes a bundle of nerves, but he is certain about this, "Ok-kay."

Both boys make their way to the restroom. Harry walks in and Draco closes the door behind him.

Harry's heart sinks a little upon hearing the latch of the door closing, but reminds himself that this is Draco and he had invited his Dominant to join him. He takes a deep breath and relaxes.

"Can. Leave," Draco says, knowingly, trying not to let his hurt show.

"N-No, I-I j-jus-st n-need a m-min-nut-te," Harry says, before his embarrassment creeps to his cheeks, "Ca-an yo-you ge-et in-n f-fir-rs-st?"

Draco searches Harry's face before looking away, starting to strip to his boxers.

Harry's cheeks are rosy, looking away from his undressing counterpart, sneaking glances at the flawless, toned, almost naked body.

Draco turns further away from his little one, to hide the pleased look on his face, walking to the steaming water with the lavender and chamomile bubbles.

Harry undresses to his boxers and sees no open wounds or welts, but he still sees the ugly bruises in different stages of healing and the way his skin hugs his frame... Disgusted with himself.

"Submissive?" Draco calls, preparing to get up.

"S-Sor-rry," Harry says, looking away from himself, embarrassed, "I'm-m c-com-ming."

Harry walks over to the tub, it appears to have gotten larger, catching Draco looking at him before the blonde turns away with tinted cheeks.

Harry steps in, the water burning his skin for a moment before he is acclimated, sitting next to Draco, shaking a little, doing his best not to touch the blonde. The water reaching just above his sternum.

Draco sits still, allowing his mate time to get comfortable with them being practically naked and so close. This is normally a very intimate activity and his mate has given him so much trust...

He won't allow his mate to regret it.

Harry takes calming breathes, whispering to himself, "I-It-t's j-jus-st Dr-rac-co. H-He won-n't hur-rt m-me. Th-This i-is s-saf-fe. Th-The wa-wat-ter's sa-afe. D-Dra-c-co's s-saf-fe."

Draco's heart clenches, wondering what happened to his little one that he would need to tell himself that the water is safe. Harry hadn't realized Draco was listening so closely, as no one usually attempted to listen this closely to the brunette.

Soon, Harry coaxes himself into relaxing, then convinces himself to relax further and touch his leg to Draco's, the rest of his body slowly following until his head is resting, tentatively, on Draco's shoulder.

This is his first time willingly showing his near naked frame to another person. First time he's allowing someone to perform an intimate act with him. The first time he's giving himself permission to show his weaknesses to different being.

'Never would I have guessed that Draco Malfoy would be the person I was sharing all these things with, and it actually be okay.'

"Touch. Mate. Back. Wash?" Draco says after a time, "Tell. Uncomfortable."

Harry nods, "Ok-kay," he removes his head from Draco, who grabs a loofah and some soap. Harry flinches when Draco touches his back with it, "S-Sor-rry."

Draco trills sadly, "No. Apologize. Try. Again?"

Harry nods, whispering as he shakes, "S-Sof-ft, n-not c-cop-pp-per. Drac-co, n-not-t P-Pet-t-t-tun-nia, no-not Ver-rn-non. So-oft. N-Ni-ice. N-Not h-hur-urt-t-ting. M-Ma-at-te. Ok-kay," a tear falls from Harry's chin to the water below.

Draco's heart flip flops between outrage, concern and love for the boy next to him, "Can. Stop."

"N-No, I'm-m ok-kay," Harry whispers, "I-It fe-eels g-good, j-jus-st..." he trails off, not wanting to talk about the memories plaguing him.

"Never. Hurt. You," Draco purrs reassuringly, "Will. Stop," it wasn't a question, he begins cleaning off the soap to put the loofah aside.

"Pl-leas-se, n-no, k-kee-ep g-goin-ng. P-Plea-ease, Dr-rac-co, I-I kn-now, yo-you won-n't hur-rt m-me," he says, turning to face Draco, not completely sure who he is reassuring more.

The green eyed teen needs to let this happen. Force himself feel the difference between the abuse he had previously experienced and the gentleness, understanding, care and love Draco is giving him now. How can they move forward in the bond if he's scared of a touch he knows nothing about?

He doesn't want to be afraid!

But he is...

He's terrified Draco is going to hurt him.

Fears he won't stop.

Worries what would happen if he were to trust as deeply as before...

And yet, Harry does trust him.

He knows he's safe with the blonde.

Admits that the Veela gives him butterflies.

Harry wants to be the mate this young man deserves.

After being saved by this family, he at least owes it to them to try.

The Veela searches his mate's eyes once more, looking for some sort of sign. Finally, hesitantly nodding and starting again, putting more soap on the loofah.

Harry relaxes into Draco's touch, the loofah going below the waterline, but never touching close to his boxers. He revels at how amazing this feels when done by someone who cares about you.

"Touch. Front. Now," Draco says, putting new soap on the loofah.

Harry nods, "Ca-an yo-you g-go... sl-slow-wer? I... I-I ne-need... t-ti-ime t-to ge-get u-us-sed to-to it-t."

"Course," Draco says, "Say. Stop. If. Need."

The brunette nods, "O-ok-kay."

Draco breathes a sigh, "May. Put. Arm. Around. Shoulders?"

Harry nods, but stiffens when he feels Draco do just that, "Br-Brea-eathe. Dr-rac-co. Sa-af-fe," he whispers, a tear falling, relaxing into the Veela's hold.

After a minute, Harry stops shaking and Draco begins running the loofah over his shoulders and down his arms to where they kiss the water's edge, before moving onto his mate's chest.

Draco stops moving every time Harry stiffens or has a sharp intake of breath, nuzzling the smaller boy when he relaxes before starting to move again. It gets worse when the loofah touches the water, so Draco stops, doesn't even mention it to the smaller boy, and puts the loofah to the side.

Harry feels dejected when Draco sink some in the tub, just to the point where his arm feels a bit tight against his shoulders, but not enough to where it feels like the blonde is trying to pull him down with him.

It's... comfortable.

Yet, he feels terrible that he couldn't handle more. Couldn't force himself to ask Draco to keep going.

Because he's still scared.

And you know what's worse?

Draco knows it too.

And he stopped.

Withdrew to give Harry some breathing room.

Ron and Hermione would have smothered him with what they thought he needed.

Not Draco.

Draco did what Harry needed.

And Harry couldn't be more thankful for it.

He takes the chance to take a good look at the Veela's naked form. First, checking Draco's face, seeing his eyes closed and face relaxed as he enjoys the water.

Harry momentarily wonders if the tub is enchanted to keep the water warm, they've already been in here a decent amount of time and the water feels exactly the same as when he stepped in. Not that he's complaining.

He looks down from the blonde's face and onto his torso the body toned, muscular and smooth. With Draco's pale complexion, it was like looking at one of those marble statues he saw on the telly while cleaning, when his Uncle had the news on and they were talking about the new exhibit at the museum.

'I have to admit, Draco Malfoy's definitely one fine young man, even in this form,' Harry can't help his heart skipping a beat. He had always heard how good looking the boy was from the Slytherin girls, even the other house girls had mentioned what a shame it was that he would never be an option for them.

Harry had started looking too, and had admitted before, in the privacy of his own mind, that the Slytherin boy is fetching. Wondering what would peak the Silver Prince's interest romantically.

And here he was, next to the teen who had caught everyone's eye, as his mate.

Draco can feel his mate's eyes on him and arousal sparking, smiling, as much as he can with his face looking like this, that his mate likes what he sees. He didn't put extra work in when training for Quidditch to look anything less than perfect for his, then unknown, mate. Not that there wasn't talk between the girls in the school about him looking good, but all of that means nothing as none of them are his mate.

'What did the increased stares he would give me mean? Eyeing me as the enemy or was Harry fancying me?' Draco wonders, very amused with the thought.

Harry leans into Draco, allowing himself to be more fully on the Veela's naked form. This is a slow process for the brunette, but he's happy Draco never moves once, it helped, beyond measure, with his anxiety.

Draco is beyond this galaxy when feeling his mate's bare flesh against his own. He keeps himself still as stone and enjoys the emotional cocktail his mate is giving off: excitement, pride, nervous, acceptance, reluctance, embarrassment, confusion.

Harry looks back at his own body, and feels... Ugly? Inadequate? Digusted? Harry feels terrible about himself, especially now when he is directly next to Draco and he can really compare. Not seeing how the Veela could find him any amounts of attractive. All the raven haired teen sees is how his abuse has stunted his growth and affected everything.

His eyes begin to blur and burn, wondering what he would look like if he was properly taken care of. Right now he looked like a twelve year old, not someone about to be fifteen.

"Mate. Feels. Wrong," Draco says, sitting back up, "How. Make. Better?"

"I-I'm o-ok-kay," he whispers in response, not looking at the blonde.

"Bad. Liar," Draco says with a calming purr, "No. Push. Talk... Know. Here... Care."

Harry blinks and feels tears fall from both eyes, quickly wiping them away, "I-I... N-Nex-xt t-to yo-you... H-How are yo-you no-not ash-sham-med t-to b-be nex-xt t-to m-me?"

Draco stares at Harry perplexed, "Submissive. Handsome. Beautiful," he insists, "Proud. Be. Yours."

"I-I ju-jus-st s-see a ma-marb-ble st-stat-tue n-nex-xt t-to... f-fil-lth," the abused teen says, picking his knees up and wrapping his thin arms around himself.

"Spend. Forever. Convince. Submissive. Otherwise," the Veela purrs, wishing he could wrap his mate in his arms and hold him close, but not wanting to overstep, "Mate. Most. Beautiful... Dominant. Lucky. Mate. Gave. Chance."

Harry pulls himself tighter, wondering, slightly amused, if maybe being Veela also caused brain damage. How can Draco not see how disgusting he is? Used, abused, ignored and all but thrown away by everyone.

"I... I wa-wan-nt t-to bel-liev-ve yo-you, bu-but I-I don-don't," his voice is small, but the cracking is clear as day.

"No. Believe. Today," Draco cards his talons in his mate's hair, "Maybe. Tomorrow. Maybe Next. Week. Maybe. Next. Year. But. Not. Change. Dominant. Mind."

Harry can't find the words, but forces himself to lean into Draco, who wraps his one arm around the front of his little one's shoulders and the other cards through Harry's hair.

After a time of getting the support he never wanted to admit he has always wanted and absolutely needs right now, Harry's stomach rumbles, "Miptsy," Draco calls and a moment later the little elf appears, "Lunch."

"Yes, young Master Draco, Miptsy being right to it," she says before disappearing.

"Come. Dress. Eat. Relax," Draco whispers affectionately.

Harry nods, a small, sheepish smile on his lips, 'I think... I like this... more than I ever thought possible.'

Draco purrs when he feels the warm emotions coming from his mate.

The boys get out of the tub and keep their eyes averted while they dry. Draco leaves to change in his room, giving Harry a moment to do the same.

"I-Is thi-this wha-at it fee-eels li-ike wh-when peo-people ac-ctual-lly ca-care?" the adrenaline wearing off, his heart racing, cheeks red, as he grabs black cotton loung pants and tee shirt to dress in.

Draco returns to the room in heather grey lounge clothes, his wings contrasting nicely, "Brought. Chess."

Harry smiles nervously, his eyes still bloodshot and heart pounding, "We-ell I-I'm-m te-terrib-ble at ch-chess, so st-star-art gloa-gloat-ting no-ow."

Draco's eyes hold a skeptical, yet endearing look, "Teach. Play. Take. Slow."

"R-Ron-n's b-been tr-trying t-to te-teach-ch m-me fo-for ye-years wi-with n-no suc-ccess," Harry says, first starting off amused, then deflating when it occurs to him that Ron isn't his friend any longer.

"Bad. Teacher," Draco surmises, trying to get his little one to perk back up, "Patience. Will. Learn."

Draco slowly goes over what each piece is and how they move and shows Harry how it all looks like on the board. Draco's pieces were very polite and helpful with explaining further since Draco is still only able to chirp.

'Ron never went this in depth to teach me,' Harry muses, 'He never explained some of these special moves, like castling...'

Once Draco and the piece were done explaining the basics, they begin a simple game. It's amusing listening to the pieces insult one another, but unlike Ron's pieces, Draco's were nice and offerred advice and corrected him if he forgets the code for the square.

Draco can feel his mate's ease and contentness. His pieces were having a good time, both sides helping Harry how they could, although his side were simply correcting placement calls.

Draco doesn't play nearly as competitively as he normally does, that will come in time with his mate's growing confidence in the game, 'Maybe when Blaise and Theo come to visit Harry can watch and learn different playing styles...?'

Lunch arrives, chicken salad croissants with candied walnuts and red grapes mixed in, "I-I'v-ve ne-ev-ver ha-ad s-uch a-a goo-good san-ndwi-wich," Harry says in a small voice, "I-I th-thin-nk it-t's m-my ne-ew fa-favor-rit-te."

Draco smiles, happy that something so simple pleases his mate, but saddened, because he knows that the reason behind it, "Noted."

Harry blushes, returning his attention back to the chess board. Draco chuckles, but, too, returns his attention to the game.

After two games, Harry feels he has a better understanding of how it's played, although he knows that Draco is taking it easy on him. Harry truly appreciates the time Draco is taking to actually teach him the game, Ron barely told him how the pieces moved before starting the game.

Harry notices how relaxed Draco has become playing chess, as his feathers begin to turn back into hair.

After their third game, there is a knock on the door. Draco gets up faster than Harry can think to move to answer the door.

"I hope we got the right ones," Narcissa says, her and Lucius levitating several objects into the room, "Oh, hello Harry, Draco said things are a bit... quiet here, so we got a few things to, hopefully, help with that."

Harry looks between Draco and his parents for a moment, stunned, "Th-Than-nk yo-ou, yo-you di-didn-n't ha-hav-ve t-to..."

"There is a time and a place for silence," Lucius says, "These should make your stay here more comfortable."

Harry watches as the objects are removed from the boxes and placed around the room. A record player now sitting by the window, a radio next to his bed and the largest television Harry had ever seen againt the wall across from his bed.

"Wo-Won-n't m-mag-gic c-comp-prom-mis-se th-the el-elec-ctron-nic-cs?" Harry asks.

Narcissa and Lucius look at him with a sense of pride and ego, "This is just to test out the new technology/magic compatibility. We know of a few Muggleborns who are working diligently to try and bridge the gap between out two worlds and we told them we would invest and fund their work. Imagine their shocked expressions when they heard they were getting Malfoy funding," Lucius says.

"We'll make a fortune if they pull it off," Narcissa says, "and it'll help bring the Wizardin World more in this century, plus the potential is there to bridge the gap between our worlds. Progress, or something along those lines."

"The money it'll bring in if it works will be astronomical," Lucius muses, a rather dreamy look on his face at the idea.

Harry smiles, but wonders, 'Would they be so keen to the idea had Draco been mated to some pureblood?'

"Th-Than-nk yo-ou a-all s-so mu-much-ch f-for... al-ll of-f th-this, re-real-lly," Harry says, his voice cracking, not realizing how emotional he would feel over this.

People he doesn't really know.

People who were the enemy days ago.

People who did a complete one-eighty because their family is Veela and he is their son's mate.

People who healed him, saved him, when everyone else kept their heads in the sand and called him a liar.

The Dursleys never got him anything. The last time he felt like this was his first Christmas when Mrs. Weasley made him his own sweater and some fudge and the presents from his friends...

The Malfoys simply smile, "Like we've said," Narcissa says warmly, "You're family now, Harry, and if there is anything in our power we can do to make you more comfortable or help you in any way, we will."

"My wife is right, Harry, you're a member of this family and anything you need, we will do our best to meet. This is nothing when you're family."

Harry starts tearing up, no one did anything for him without asking for something in return... and yet, here this family is, asking Harry to just let them be a family with him.

Almost no one else believes him when it matters.

Most people leave him when he needs them.

Almost no one cared about his nightmares.

The only people who never abandoned him were Neville, Fred and George.

"Well, we'll let you get back to your game," Narcissa says, "Here is the... remote? The person we got it from says it should work just the same and that it is already connected to the... airways? Airwaves?" the use of muggle terminology sounding so foreign on her lips, "Anywho, just let us know if it works."

"Thank. You. Mother. Father," Draco chirps, his beak shrinking.

They simply smile at their son and wave off to Harry before exiting to wherever they are headed off to.

Draco can feel Harry's whirlwind emotions, "D-Dra-ac-co, th-this... I-I do-don-n't..."

'There are literally no words that I can find that clearly articulate how I'm feeling,' Harry thinks to himself as he fumbles over his words.

The blonde walks over to him, his features softening, slowly becoming more human than bird, "Finish. Game. Then. Try. New. Things?" he says, getting very close and opening his arms for his little one to step into.

Harry does just that and lets the older boy embrace him, and he puts all his feelings into hugging the blonde.

Draco doesn't need his mate to tell him how he feels, because he knows. He can feel the love, the mourning, the appreciation, the confusion, the affection, the shame... Everything.

They stay like this for what feels like an eternity, but, truly, not so long at all, "B-bac-ck t-to ou-our ga-game, th-then."

They sit back down and the pieces complain about being left in play so long, but go back to enjoying themselves and bickering.

Harry insists on playing a few more games, all of which Draco wins, but, finally, the raven haired teen wins his first chess game, and he beams.

Draco smiles broadly, his beak finally gone, "Finally."

Harry wonders if Draco let him win after so many losses, but seeing as though Draco has never appeared to have been the type to allow that to happen, "I-I d-don-n't kn-know if-f th-tha-at c-coun-nts, bec-cause yo-you w-were goin-ng eas-sy on-n m-me."

"It was a friendly game and you won fair and square, I promise," Draco responds, in truth, he hadn't let Harry win, Draco actually started sweating several times and then it was over, "We'll have to play more another time. Right now, though, I want you to teach me how this contraption works. What's it called? Ra-mo-t? And we can see if it's worth the investment."

Harry smiles, butterflies in his stomach, Draco's eyes conveying such sincerity as he hands him the remote control, "Ok-kay, it-t's eas-sier tha-an che-chess th-though."

"I think we should just see about that, because thats a lot of buttons and I just know I'm going to do something that you'll be able to fix in a second after I've tried for an hour."

Harry laughs, taking it and looking it over, "We sh-should g-get the ga-game clea-cleaned up f-firs-st."

Draco quickly makes the board and pieces disappear. Harry sits cross legged, once Draco sits down, he begins telling the blonde what each button does. Harry's never been allowed to touch the remote, but he has when he was left at the Dursleys' House alone those few, once in a blue moon, marvelous times.

"An-nd, if th-this wor-rks, y-you'll see a mo-mov-ving pict-ture on the scr-screen an-nd hear the s-sound thr-rough the spea-eak-kers, but th-the pic-ct-tures do not resp-spond t-to you if-f you t-talk to th-them, they only sp-peak their li-ines in the sh-show. N-Now, le-et's see if th-this wor-rks" Harry then presses the big red button and the shiny, blank, black screen changes to a man giving the weather report and them hearing that it will most likely rain tomorrow afternoon, "H-Hol-ly fu-fuc-kking shi-it, it wo-work-ked," Harry says in disbelief.

"That is the most amazing thing I've ever seen! How did the muggles come up with this? What else do they have that's just as ingenius? Holy shit, these muggleborns and their backers are about to be the richest witches and wizards in the world! You could watch Quidditch anywhere with one of these!"

"Y-you... lik-ke th-this?" Harry asks increduously, 'Never would I have guessed that Draco would be this... excited over a muggle device and want to see what else they have.'

Draco looks at Harry with amazement, "How about showing me what other pictures you can watch on this?"

Harry smiles and does as requested, stopping every channel for a minute so Draco can see what is playing and see if he wishes to watch it through or if he wants to move on.

"I'm going to keep telling you to change it, so once you find something you want to watch, tell me and we will relax and watch it," Draco says, nudging into Harry.

The smaller boy ducks his head and nods, stops on the third channel after seeing Indiana Jones switching the golden god statue with a bag of sand at the beginning of Raiders of the Lost Arc, "I th-thin-nk this is a go-good mov-vie," Harry says, putting the remote down, "R-Risp-pa?"

"Oh yes, Master Harry, sir, what cans Rispa be doings for you," smiling at Harry, "And what are those sounds?" she turns to look at the television, pausing, "What is that?" she asks, amazed.

"That is a television and you will be informed of it at a later time," Draco rearranges the pillows behind them, scootches back some, and leans back to get comfortable, "Right now, we would like some tea and biscuits and other treats while we watch and listen to this... theatre production on the screen. Tell my parents to invest heavily before arriving back with everything.

Rispa nods, "Ofs course, young Master Draco, sir. Rispa's being back soon," she responds chipperly, before popping off, happy to be of service.

Harry grabs the remote again, before getting comfortable on his stomach, his chin on his arms after he turns the volume up.

Draco is momentarily distracted from the movie when Harry stuck his ass out to lay on his stomach. The thin fabric hugged it so nicely. Shaking his head, he returns to watching the movie and enjoying the emotional high that his mate has right now, before the elf returns with snacks and tea.

Rispa returns some time later with the requested items and confirms she delivered the message before popping off again, lingering a moment longer to look watch a bit of the movie as well.

Harry props himself up and grabs a biscuit. Draco leans over to prepare a cup of tea. Their focus returning to the picture.

The Veela, enthralled with the story, forgets about his tea. He isn't too sure what some things are in the story, but he makes a note of everything he has questions about. More than happy to let his mate enjoy the movie without his constant interruptions.

The movie ends and another begins, this time it's Little Shop of Horrors, "Gu-Guess w-we land-ded on the mo-ov-vie st-stat-tion."

Draco doesn't complain he hears the music open up the movie and automatically wants to watch it, "That's okay, I liked the last one, I bet I'll like this one too."

Harry smiles as he moves to change his position, going to cuddle Draco. Harry hated to admit it, but the monster plant haunted his dreams after watching it for the first time when he was seven, having been the one to do the majority of the gardening. It's nothing, now, compared to Devil's Snare, but still. Harry does enjoys the movie and thinks his younger self stupid for being scared of it.

Harry notices that Draco's form is completely back to being human.

Draco can sense his mate's unease and excitement as the raven haired teen comes to curl up next to him. He doesn't question it, as cuddling his mate as they relax has quickly become one of his favorite things.

In the middle of Suddenly Seymour Rispa pops back in the room, "Mistress Narcissa bes requesting two young Masters bes ready to leave early tomorrow tos continuing the shopping for young Master Harry's new things."

"Tell Mother we will be up and ready to go after breakfast," Draco responds.

Once the elf pops away, Harry lets out a shaky breath, "I-I ha-at-te shop-p-pping."

Draco chuckles, "Mother likes to dote on family and people she likes, you just happen to fall under both categories. Consider all of this as making up for turning my hand down first year, she's trying to play catch up."

Harry groans, but a warmth spreads through his chest and his cheeks begin to burn, "W-We-ell th-then, you sh-should-dn't ha-ave ac-cted lik-ke a to-total pra-at," Harry teases.

Draco knows Harry is joking, but there's still a sharp ache in his chest. He feels guilty for what happened before. Guilty for not being there sooner. Guilty for not seeing the signs. Guilty for everything he missed and caused.

He puts his nose in Harry's hair and breathes deeply, "You can't tell me our bickering wasn't a form of us trying to keep the other close, because we both recognised the bond... Even though we didn't realize what it was," he then whispers, "Kinda like... foreplay?"

Harry doesn't respond, instead acting as though he didn't hear the blonde, cuddling closer, his mouth too dry and his heart pounding in his ears.

Draco chuckles, happy with the result his little comment produced.

Dinner is served near the end of the movie: London Broil with mashed potatoes, root vegetables and dinner rolls, and creme brulee for dessert.

Labyrinth plays after Little Shop of Horrors ends.

Harry begins to nod off when the cast enters the Bog of Eternal Stentch. Draco summons Miptsy to take the food and to bring them a blanket.

Draco whispers, "Moitié?"

"Hmm?"

"Let's lay down fully and you can sleep more comfortably."

Harry hums, doing exactly what the older teen suggests.

Draco smiles warmly, pushing the big red button to turn the movie off. Otherwise he may be up all night watching it.

---

Tom Riddle looks at himself in the mirror, his eyes are still red, his mind still the same, but the rest of him looks like a freshly graduated, handsome young man.

The years he spent cutting himself to pieces trying to keep the memories away. The feeling of his skin crawling. The hushed whispers on the wind.

When his light was taken from him, he no longer felt any positive emotions, no real empathy. He doesn't even know if one could consider him human.

The memories plagued him and mi d healers wpuld have thrown him in the psychiatric ward of St. Mungo's for speaking ill of Albus Dumbledore, even with proof... They'd just say he or the real culprit altered his memories.

Tom tried to run.

He didn't take the jobs offered for his caliber, because Albus Dumbledore had his hand and nose in those areas.

That's how he ended up working in private business. Business that was... frowned upon.

There were whispers of the bright student losing his way, wondering what happened, but no one would believe him.

Albus Dumbledore still managed to corner him from time to time, but Tom was quick to get away.

"But what purposssse wassss there to put my light into the Potter boy? Why would he rissssk repeating himsssself?" Tom hisses to Nagini.

"Show'ssss that light can come from all the darknesssss," she hisses back, "Repeat you and get different outcome showssss he wassssn't at any fault."

Tom ponders this, a sickening lump landing in his stomach, "What would adding my light to the boy do-... He added more light to the boy sssso he could take the darknesssss of the world and be harder to break."

"Boy not ssssafe at Hogwarts," she hisses, "Nor is any ssssnake sssstudent."

"No one issss ssssafe if Albussss hassss a hand in the placccce," Tom hisses, "All I know, Nagini, issss that we need to change tacticssss, and fasssst, to protect thosssse kidssss before Albussss ruinssss their livessss too."

Nagini nods in agreement, having her memories of her dear, sweet Credence and the family who cast him aside until it suited them to rescue the boy.

---

Harry wakes as light peeks through the window and kisses his eyes. Feeling content as he pinpoints every muscle of Draco against his back, spooning him.

He dare not move, allowing the poor Veela to sleep longer, reminiscing on happier memories, like the time the Brazilian Python playfully nipped at all those people at the zoo when Harry let it out of it's cage, and how Dudley had fallen in and was trapped in it instead. Or perhaps blowing up Vernon's sister and making her a blimp. Or when he snuck his first real glance at Draco and saw him with his masks down and a genuine smile played on his face and in his eyes.

Harry thinks about Seamus blowing up the feather first year, and blowing up countless other things since. Neville's amazing talent to melt cauldron after cauldron and having terrible luck in every class, except herbology. How he out flown a dragon last year and swam for the first time.

Thinking back to Draco and him fighting, the obsession they both shared with one another, what he unwittingly learned about the blonde...

Harry remembers the first time he thought Draco looked good. The first time he noted that Draco had a sweet tooth, whereas he prefers natural sweets and savory desserts. He knew the Veela's facial expressions, however minute the change in his face was. He knows just how far he can push before Draco hits his breaking point... He wonders what Draco learned about him these last four years.

Soon, though, Harry's bladder makes itself known and he manages to get out of the blonde's grasp without protest.

Draco was sleeping so wonderfully until his mate left the bed, "Please, one day, just sleep in," he groans, turning and putting his head in the pillow.

"I-I'm sor-rry, I'm-m an ear-rly ri-ris-ser," Harry says with a yawn, before closing the bathroom door.

"Mark my words, I'm going to break this annoying habit of yours one day," Draco declares, loud enough to reach Harry on the other side of the door, he can feel his mate's amusement and challenge at the declaration.

Harry chuckles, his counterpart will have a hard time breaking this habit. The Dursleys beat it into him to be up early to make their breakfast or suffer. It would amaze him if he ever sleeps past the sunrise.

Draco calls on a house elf and asks for breakfast for the two of them. He wonders if he can ever really break Harry's habit, or if he'll have to learn how to sleep past his mate's warm body leaving him and the cold taking over the spot.

Harry reenters the room and begins searching for what he's going to wear today, "If you ask me, I think you should wear the silver, long sleeve button up and royal blue dragonhide pants," Draco comments.

Harry's ears turn red, but seeing as though he doesn't know what looks good on him, he takes Draco's advice.

Moments later a Miptsy arrives with breakfast: strawberries, bananas and custard stuffed crepes with a chocolate/hazelnut drizzle and sausage.

"Thank you, Miptsy," Draco says, happy his mate will be wearing the outfit he suggested.

The elf pops off with a nod, "Dr-Drac-co?"

"Yes, Moitié?" there's an apprehension to his mate's tone and body language, and... fear as Draco watches his mate chew on his question.

"Wh-hy wa-was Do-Dobb-by...? I mea-mean... Th-The oth-other h-hous-se el-elv-ves..." Harry's voice dies off, "Ne-ev-vermi-mind..."

Draco got it, "Harry," he starts, hesitantly, "Dobby... Dobby was first my Aunt Bellatrix's and she... she didn't treat him right. She sent him to my mother because he was considered useless for anything other than letting her frustrations out on and that included many, many Crucios... He was long broken before he arrived. He wouldn't take orders without being talked to harshly and would throw tantrums if things weren't up to his previous standards. All because of the Black name. His mind was already altered by the constant torture my aunt put him under. It was honestly a sigh of relief that you freed him."

Harry simply nods, relief filling his every pore, "At-t leas-st I kn-now th-that if w-we ev-ver need resc-cuing fr-rom a hou-house elf, th-that we won-won't have to wo-worry ab-bout be-eing ser-serious-sly inju-jured b-by the oth-thers-s."

Draco had asked during their question game what happened with Dobby and had mixed opinions on the mental house elf. Harry had not asked a follow up on the elf then, 'Because he was scared of the answer.'

They eat breakfast in an easy quiet, then Draco leaves to change in his own room.

Harry dresses in the outfit Draco suggests and is surprised how well it works together, especially with it being on him. Putting on black dress socks and shoes, he feels ready for the day. Before he can leave his room to see if Draco is ready, there's a tapping at his window.

Opening the window, an owl from the World Pensive comes in, is paid, and stays for a tender scratch. Once the owl is satisfied does it fly away.

The front page shows a picture of the Molly Weasley bouncing off a ward around the apothacary.

UK and Beyond: Businesses Take Sides in Diagon Alley and Further

by Todd Sween

Businesses in the UK have begun taking sides where the Weasley Family are concerned. When speaking to these businesses-

Harry stopped reading, he doesn't want to read about the Weasley's problems. He hadn't meant for his words to challenge the rest of the world to basically eliminate what little status in the community they had.

His heart aches.

He lost the people he considered a mother and father figure.

He lost the person he considered his best friend.

All because of the sex he is attracted to and who he has chosen to stand beside.

Draco is a good, loving, warm, patient, caring guy, behind his mask.

Lucius is a loving, caring man, behind his own.

Narcissa is a warm, motherly woman, behind hers.

Severus is a gentle man, underneath it all.

Harry wouldn't have learned any of that without them saving him. He owed it to Draco and his family to, at least, give this mate business a shot.

He remembers the twins and Ron coming to rescue him his second year and how they had gotten in trouble while Mrs. Weasley ignored his abuse and contemplated using the bars on her children's windows.

Looking back, he should have known, in that exact moment, that she wasn't a safe adult to be around.

But his heart held out hope.

He longed for a mother and got... whatever it is Molly Weasley is. Someone who holds to tight and can't let go of her control. Someone who punishes her children for being anything less than she has planned.

He should have known that when Ron turned his back on him the first time, he should have stayed away. Then the second time. And a third...

Harry knew he held on to tightly to the idea of his first ever human friend. Then his parents' friends. His godfather. His fellow Gryffindors. Teachers. Even Hermione had turned his back on him for a time.

Never Neville, or Fred and George, or even their friend Lee Jordan.

The only people who were consistent in his life were the Slytherins. At least they always acted the same.

"Ma-Mayb-be... I ha-have to ta-tal-k-k to Lu-Luci-cius to-tod-day."

With a new sense of resolve, he leaves his room to get Draco, so they can get this terrible shopping excursion over with.