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He was late for breakfast and Draco was surprised to find Blaise and Pansy waiting for him. Chatting with his friends were Weasley and Granger who were sitting across at the Slytherin table. The Great Hall was nearly empty, but still, it was a bizarre sight.
“Are you two lost?” Draco sat down between his friends and stared pointedly at the Gryffindors.
“Nope, just wanted to say hi to Harry,” Ron replied cheerfully.
Draco glanced at Blaise and Pansy, who did not seem remotely surprised at the news. “And you just assume Potter’s following me around everywhere I go?”
“Duh. Given the chance, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t.”
Draco sighed. He was getting somewhat annoyed with everyone insinuating Harry had a thing for him. Then again, he was late because he ended up having to heal all the fucking bites Potter left on his neck from the night before, so maybe there was a damn point to it. “I haven’t eaten yet, and I would prefer to enjoy my breakfast without having to write at the same time.”
Hermione waved her hand airily. “No really, just to say hi. I doubt he wants to write all the time either. Oh, and to let you know Dumbledore’s specialist has arrived and is waiting down in Snape’s office when you’re done.”
“Okay.” Draco started eating, only to realize the Gryffindors were content to stay where they were, talking to Pansy about something. “Am I missing something here?”
“Just catching up on the feathers and scale thing.” Blaise grinned wickedly.
“Ah… crap.” Scowling, Draco began to shovel food into his mouth to prevent anyone from asking questions. Harry hovered behind him by his shoulder, not touching him for a change. Draco couldn’t tell if he was upset, or what. Harry hadn’t touched him the entire morning, except for a brief moment when Draco held his hand out to make sure the invisible boy was out the bedroom door.
Draco wasn’t oblivious to the relationship Pansy and Blaise had with Potter’s old tag-a-longs, but this was the first time it was blatantly flaunted in front of him. It was a bit odd, but then, so were his friends and he didn’t have an interest in losing them over something as trivial as lions.
“You told them to keep it hush about Potter, right?” Draco asked. “The wrong people could hurt him.”
“Yes, although I still don’t see how that can happen,” Ron said, looking around as if he expected to see Harry. “You’re the only one he can touch.”
“And magic,” Blaise added. “Magic can do a lot of things, even if it’s as simple as caging him and squashing him flat.”
Draco was momentarily stunned. He hadn’t even thought of that, fixated on his fear of someone taking over his body to attack Harry. Without thinking, he reached up behind him until hesitantly Harry touched his hand.
Seeing Draco’s distressed look, not to mention how pale Harry’s friends had gotten, Blaise added quickly, “If anyone could even see him to find him. He did defeat the Dark Lord, after all.”
“No, you’re right,” Draco muttered. “We should be testing him to see if he is effected by our magic.” Draco let go of his hand, only to have Harry wrap around his shoulders and lean on him. His hot breath ruffled Draco’s hair. Apparently he’d given the paw me and hover signal.
Pansy gave Draco a long glance and eventually pointed to his hair. “Bit clingy, huh?”
“Something like that.” He ignored her amused smirk and went back to eating. Granger and Weasley started talking to Harry as if he could answer back. They went over all the things that went on at school that year, what he missed, and how they kept his things in storage at the Burrow. It all blurred in Draco’s mind, especially when Harry shifted. Heat suddenly was on his neck as Harry leaned onto his shoulder for support.
“Potter, are you alright?” he asked quietly. Harry’s face was now pressed against his throat. Draco suddenly groaned and grabbed the idiot by his messy hair as Harry licked up the side of his neck. “Fucking ass! Last time I worry about you!” He shoved Harry backward and tried to ignore how his neck was tingling, his cheeks were flushed, and everyone was staring at him.
Ron burst out laughing and Hermione shook her head in a cross between amusement and reprimand. “Harry, that’s not very polite.”
Draco realized they must have seen his hair move. He covered his face with his hand as Pansy cackled in his ear. “You know, I don’t have to take this. I don’t have to help that stupid wanker, and I don’t have to hang around and let you lot make fun of me.”
“No—No one is making fun, I swear!” Ron choked out between laughs. “It’s him… laughing at him… He used to say something about… making you untidy.”
Draco scowled and moved his hand up to find Potter had ruffled his hair into a mess before being thrown back. “For fuck sake.” He combed his hair back into place, and met Blaise’s twinkling eye.
“I’m sure he’ll stop if you stop reacting to him. He seems like a five year old.”
As if to prove his point, Harry suddenly wrapped arms around Draco, pulled him back on the bench and held him tight against his chest as he whispered something into his ear he could not hear.
Draco twitched, the air very ticklish and skin very warm. He watched as Harry lifted his writing hand and held it out for a pen. Hermione was ready, quill and parchment placed before them. Draco was only just getting the suspicion whatever Potter was going to say would likely be just as bloody annoying as his current behavior, when Harry moved his hand across the paper.
Three year old. I’m very much in need of attention.
Pansy frowned and looked at Draco. “You sure you didn’t write that?”
Please, he’s pretty sure I’m just a dog humping his leg. Right Malfoy?
“Bitter and true.” Draco glared in the direction of Harry’s face.
“Oh Harry, what have you done?” Hermione asked woefully as she read the words upside down.
Well, you’re bloody wrong. And my friends will be happy to tell you.
“I don’t need your friends to tell me you’re a fucked up perv, Potter.”
Ron held the quill still before Harry could respond. “He’s in love with you and let’s leave it at that,” Ron said sternly. His eyes went to Draco’s very wide ones, then to where Harry was pressed into his hair again. “Harry, stop pestering him. He thought you were dead. We all thought it. Have some damn consideration.”
Draco wasn’t sure if he was more shocked the Weasel just said Harry was in love with him, or for berating Harry to protect him. He blinked down when Harry used his hand to write again.
Consideration? Try existing like a fucking ghost for nearly a year, all because some sick fuck didn’t have enough power to kill me.
It was Hermione’s turn. Her hands thumped flat on the table as she stood and glared at Draco’s shoulder as well. “You want a damn pity party? Think we’re going to all sit around and cry because you’re stuck and falling apart in that dimension? Not bloody likely, Harry. Buck the hell up and remember you’re coming back home. Start acting like it.”
Harry tightened around Draco, anger clear in his tense muscles. There was the echo of another spark, as if something jolted Harry around his back. Just as quickly, he was gone; Harry released Draco and stepped away. Draco grabbed the table in surprise to keep from falling backward.
“He’s pissed,” Draco muttered to no one in particular.
“He’ll get over it,” Ron said flatly. “He’s been alone for a long time and he needs to realize you’re a person, not just some fantasy. He probably thought you were dead, too.” He pushed himself up from the table and held his hand out to Hermione. “Come on. We have our whole Sunday still. You know he’ll sulk the day away.”
“Probably.” Hermione turned to Draco with an apologetic look. “Don’t let him bully you around. He’ll hate himself later for it. Whether he’s back and healthy or dies in that place.” She looked up and glanced around the room. “You know I’m right, Harry. Try and get your head on straight.”
Draco stared after their retreating backs. His eyes narrowed as he turned to his remaining friends. “Why would he think I was dead?”
Blaise looked away, but Pansy didn’t back down. “He heard us that night trying to convince you to keep living. Told them. They approached us around Christmas after he died. They didn’t want to talk to you about it but they were worried about you. We were all worried.” She stopped and stood as well. “They helped make it easier for us while we watched you fall apart. It’s been a damn difficult year.”
Draco didn’t say anything, studying his hands instead. He was barely passing his classes, barely eating, barely playing quidditch… barely living. Did he have to feel guilty for his friends’ suffering too?
Pansy didn’t leave right away. Her hand grazed Draco’s chin until he met her eye. “Not blaming you, just explaining how it’s been. We’re all very glad that you made it through.”
Draco nodded and let her kiss his forehead. “Sorry.” He pushed his plate away, not even remotely hungry anymore.
“Did you want me to come along with you?” Blaise was very still as he sat next to Draco.
Draco shook his head. He watched as Blaise got up and left the Great Hall to catch up with Pansy. “Shit. Don’t I feel like a fucking ass?”
He didn’t get an answer for a long time. Harry was off doing whatever it was he did to let off steam. Draco waited patiently. The rest of his day was going to be dedicated to figuring out how to get Harry back. He wasn’t resentful. A part of him wanted to be. A part of him wanted to want more than to spend time with Potter and try to save him. But he wasn’t. Draco was near happy he could help him, even with how annoying and frustrating things were between them.
Was that why Potter stared so much the end of last year? Harry discovered he was going to protect himself against Voldemort the only way he had available. By taking his life. For someone with a severe hero complex, Harry hadn’t said a goddamn word, or tried to do a damn thing. Draco appreciated it. It was his life, and his choice on what to do with it. That Harry loved him…
Well, that was a lot of food for thought.
Maybe Potter wasn’t a groping, pawing dog trying to get into his pants once he realized he liked guys. Maybe Harry didn’t even think he had some right to him because he killed Voldemort. Maybe he was just fucking lonely, and lost, and very much wanted to share feeling alive with another warm body. A warm body he apparently had feelings for since last year.
Harry was again across the table, Draco noticed with a start when a hand pushed into his aura of awareness. Draco slowly ran his hand over the table and stopped when his fingertips found Harry’s. “Let me know when you’re ready to go.”
Harry’s fingers brushed over his hand but Draco resolved to stay and not react angrily like he kept doing. He wasn’t angry Harry insisted on touching him, he realized. He was more angry he wouldn’t be able to have it always. Every touch was intense, hot and wild, and it made Draco jump. It was hard enough dealing with the madness it drove him towards and it would soon be taken away. Harry would be brought back and go on with his life as the savior of everything. While Draco would continue on his path of numbness with no more wild sparks to make him feel alive.
Harry’s hand stilled and rested lightly on his. With wicked impulse Draco pulled and smacked his hand over Harry’s. “How the hell did you beat snakehead with reflexes like that, hmm? I can’t even see you.”
He felt Harry’s hand twitch as he got ready to strike. Draco pulled his hand away with a smile. “Too slow—Hey!” Harry grabbed his wrist in his surprisingly strong grip and slowly pulled his hand closer.
“Don’t be a poor loser, Potter. Ah…” His lashes lowered as breath warmed his fingers. He felt words mumbled into his hand. Draco used his other hand to push the parchment and quill towards Harry but he didn’t seem interested. Lips pressed to his fingertips next. Draco took a shaky breath. His eyes flitted around the Great Hall, which was now empty of anyone else.
When Harry started to nip at one of his fingers, Draco wasn’t too concerned with being seen gasping and hand hanging in the air like a weirdo. He wondered what Harry’s expression looked like. Was it was intent on the fingers he was gently biting, or on his face to see him react. It was frustrating not to know, not to see him at all.
“Oh… oh, okay. I don’t know if…” Draco trailed off as Harry’s tongue slipped around his fingers. Two were pulled into his hot mouth and sucked down and Harry’s tongue lapped further to reach his palm. Maybe Potter was just a fucking dog trying to hump his leg every moment. Draco could feel his teeth, the brush of the roof of his mouth and then the flat of his tongue with absolutely nothing in front of him. He was torn between the damn delicious sensation and the bizarreness of it all.
Swallowing, he closed his eyes and carefully pulling his trapped finger out of Harry’s mouth. He lingered on the warm swell of flesh when he pressed into his lips. He couldn’t see the saliva but could feel it clinging to his flesh. It was such an odd thing; to be at the cusp of a window with no way to see the other side, but still, just so close. With his eyes closed it was far more real. Harry was just on the other side of his eyelids licking his hand like some perverted deviant.
That it was turning him on was more Draco’s problem than anything to do with the continued fact that Potter was totally messed up. He slowly extracted his hand from Harry’s and let it fall to the table again. When he opened his eyes, all their information revealed he was completely alone in the room. “Come on, Potter. Let’s get you fixed up already.”
Colin Jaz McVicar was the highest authority on dimensional planes and the creatures who exist and crossed between those planes. Unsurprising, the strange man was one of said beings. He existed in another realm simultaneously to the one everyone was currently inhabiting. He appeared to be in his late thirties. His white wavy hair was cut shoulder length and was stark contrast against his golden skin. He wore dark framed, narrow glasses, black lipstick and had the odd habit of nerding out in rants of information while humming obscure muggle music.
Severus, who just spent the last forty-five minutes with Jaz in his office explaining the situation, looked ready to throw him through a window. Preferably one connected to a tall tower. They were all currently standing around Snape’s desk. Harry watched from a corner while Jaz tried to explain what they needed to do next.
Harry didn’t exist with Jaz on any of the planes he was on but he didn’t doubt the man was within more than one. He could see a golden glow coming off Jaz, especially when viewed through the fifth plane where magic and Malfoy were easily recognized. Considering where the light flowed, Jaz probably had a tail and was much taller than his average height seen.
Although Harry was certain Jaz couldn’t see him, at the same time, he seemed to have Draco’s odd ability to know when he was near. His stare would point in Harry’s direction whenever he stood close enough. Harry had walked through Jaz a few times and startled the both of them from the odd sensation. Eventually Jaz insisted he stop and started babbling about energy switching while flipping through his never ending notebook.
“Now, Mr. Malfoy, you claim you have actual physical contact with Mr. Potter through the sharing of one plane. And this has been demonstrated, along with Mr. Potter’s interaction with a phoenix. Now, given that there are at least ten, and not the previously thought seven planes phoenixes dwell in, I feel focusing on Mr. Malfoy’s plane would be the fastest way to connect with Mr. Potter and then pull him back.”
“Is it that simple?” Draco asked, doubtful. “He said he ended up scattered from a huge explosion of magic and strewn across dimensions.”
Jaz nodded and riffled through his notes again. “Yes. Yes, but I have a suspicion Mr. Potter has always dwelled in at least one other plane besides ours. I know for a fact Tom Riddle, the fallen Dark Lord, did. I saw the spell first hand he used to cross the dimensions. Considering how Riddle fell and Potter didn’t suggests to me Potter may have always been in these five planes. Deeply embedded like yourself and I in our own, just never viewed from his current location… Which suggests he may be something a bit different than what we first thought… But what that could be, who is to say as long as…” Jaz looked up and met the confused expressions with his own confusion.
“You are rambling,” Severus snapped, his eyebrows knitted darkly. “Again. What must we do?”
Jaz pushed his glasses up his nose with a practiced move and tossed his notes aside on Snape’s desk. “Right. We must locate the dimension he’s in. First thing’s first. If you’re correct and he’s unraveling, specifically on the plane he shares with Mr. Malfoy, then that is the most important dimension to find. Again, it is just speculation at this point, but I believe his loss of connection with our world has ungrounded him. He’s in a limbo of sorts and although likely quite belonging where he is, without an anchor here he cannot sustain for too long. I’ve seen this actually with…”
Severus raised his hand to cut him off. “How do we find the dimension?”
Jaz waved his hand at Draco, his black talons glinting in the light. It was if he already explained it and was waiting for everyone to catch up. Confusion again flashed across his face when no one seemed to understand and Jaz went again for his notes.
Severus reached over and firmly took the book from his hands. “Mr. McVicar.”
“Jaz,” he corrected. He pushed his glasses again into place and stared up bemusedly at Severus’s stern expression.
Severus sighed in annoyance and his frown grew. “Mr. McVicar, what must we do with Draco’s help to find the dimension?”
“I will need his blood. A lot.” Jaz smiled and revealed sharp, pointed teeth. Draco shivered in response. “Also, a complete intake of his genetic history might alleviate a bit of that, depending if the dimension is already known. They’re like fingerprints, dimensions. Very similar, side by side and infinite in amount. It takes a lot to actually pin point exact ones, and even more difficult to entrench yourself once you do find it. But with the right spells, the right anchors…”
Harry stepped up to Draco while Jaz started another tangent. He placed a hand on his shoulder in show of support. Draco, naturally, threw him off. Malfoy was far less accommodating when other people were around, Harry was figuring out. He suspected it had to do with all the teasing tickling he inflicted in McGonagall’s class. Harry couldn’t feel the least bit sorry for it considering the results of said teasing afterwards.
He considered a moment and held Draco’s hand instead. Draco stiffened for a moment and then relaxed when Harry did nothing else. Maybe Ron and Hermione had something to it by not being so aggressive. It seemed stupid they didn’t think he was treating Draco like a person… but then, he couldn’t really remember how people were around each other.
Touching Draco because he could actually touch him seemed totally natural, if not obvious. That he hadn’t cared much if Draco wanted to be touched probably was a problem. Probably. He wasn’t certain Draco didn’t want to be touched no matter all his loud complaints. Actually, he was pretty certain he did and Harry was a lot of difficulty discerning the difference.
Jaz was saying something again after he finally and calmly wrested his notebook back from an irate Severus. “I understand your beast inheritance has not been awoken, Mr. Malfoy. Was that something you were considering to help in this process?”
“No,” Severus spoke up before Draco could answer. “Let him stay human.”
“Severus, I do believe you do not like what I am,” Jaz mused, looking him over as he peered up from his notes. Severus just raised an eyebrow brow, not denying or confirming. “Mr. Malfoy is no more human than myself; he just looks it. I look it, when I choose to. I’m sure Mr. Potter could be quite descriptive in just how non-human our glowing friend here is,” he said as he waved at Draco again.
“I can see some, such as the glow because my eyes and other senses are connected to my other dimension. Magic is a very visual experience there. From what I can gather, Mr. Malfoy’s sense of physical self through touch is in his dimension, along with his sense of smell and taste. Sight and hearing seem to be missing but that could change if he’s woken up. Having someone actually able to see Mr. Potter might be useful, wouldn’t you agree?”
“No,” Severus repeated. His was voice flat and left little room for discussion. “We will do without seeing Mr. Potter. Draco is not an experiment; he is someone caught up in all this. As his Head of House, it is my responsibility to make sure he is not exploited.”
“Exploited? You really don’t like me.” Jaz started flipping through his notes. He idly hummed to himself and completely ignored the glower sent his way. “Mr. Potter, do you have anything to add to our discussion, seeing as Mr. Malfoy has been spoken for?”
Harry raised his brows. No one bothered to get a quill and paper for him. “Er. You can’t hear me, can you?” he asked hesitantly. Given the silence, that was a no. He pulled at Draco’s hand when no one seemed willing to actually assist in him talking.
Draco blinked in his general direction, his brows furrowed for a moment. Harry rolled his eyes. He placed Draco’s hand to his head and nodded emphatically until he understood he wanted to talk.
“Ah, I need a quill.” Draco looked at his professor expectantly. Severus seemed relieved for something to do besides glare at the man infringing in his office. Odd to Harry, considering although a bit talkative, Jaz was fairly fun, not to mention helpful.
Draco sat at Harry’s urging and picked up a quill. Staring a moment at Draco’s bowed head, Harry bent down and wrapped an arm around his chest. He was getting used to the way Draco gasped and grew warm in response. Because Draco wanted him to touch him. Harry reached out his hand, grasped Draco’s, and stole a moment to stare at him from the side while Draco’s eyes fixed on the paper before him. Except silver quickly turned his way when Draco felt his breath so close. He really needed to stop breathing so much.
You mentioned waking Malfoy’s genetics up could help him sense more. What about me? If I’m in multiple dimensions like you think, would waking up my genetics help the situation?
Jaz hummed and notes again flipped. He sat on the side of Severus’s desk and missed the glare sent his way. “I was considering something like that, Mr. Potter, but the reality is, I can’t reach you to wake you up. Mr. Malfoy could through appropriate spells, but it would certainly require him to be woken for it, which is not an option.”
“Would it fix him?” Draco asked quietly. “I’d be willing, if it saved him.” Harry peered around so he could see his expression but Draco ducked his head.
This time Jaz held his hand up to interrupt Severus’s oncoming rant. “There is no guarantee. It’s never been done before, to my knowledge. Mr. Potter’s situation is unique because usually one does not cross dimensions unless one is made for it to begin with. Most in his situation ended up there from their own neglect in spellwork and…”
Severus cleared his throat, his long fingers tapping to keep the man from rambling again. “What would the likelihood be, Mr. McVicar, of Potter being saved by transforming?”
“Ah. I don’t honestly know.” Jaz turned and casually leaned his hip on the desk. He placed his notebook flat on the surface to page through and stopped to read a line. “We don’t know what Potter is, do we? No… Really, do we?” he asked as he blinked up at Severus.
“No. He said he is dark to see, with light cracking through his skin.”
“And that could just be signs of his poor condition, not even his actual form,” Jaz hummed. “Waking him up while still in limbo could possibly do harm. Or good. Like I said, it’s a unique case. It would be best to approach in the most known way and find the dimension.”
“So, how much blood are we talking about here?” Draco asked nervously.
“Oh, a few pints or so. Maybe more. No more than half of what you have.”
“Mr. McVicar!” Snape snarled as his hands slammed on his desk. “That would kill him!”
Still riffling through notes, Jaz didn’t bother to look up. “Severus, I have been clear. I prefer to be called Jaz.”
Harry was fairly certain Snape reached his hexing point. He’d never seen Snape attempt to bodily harm someone, but apparently Jaz was just too much for his quiet sensibilities of potions and solitude.
“I was wondering when it was going to come to this,” Jaz mused lightly. His eyes raised from his notes as Severus grabbed him by his collar. “Is it my glasses? Too hipster for you? No, you wouldn’t know that term.”
It was not helping. Severus dragged him up and pulled Jaz towards his door. “You will not drain my student of his blood.”
“The lipstick, I think. You know, I get a lot of crap for the lipstick, but it’s really just the natural color of my lips.” Severus opened the door and Jaz stared out into the hallway. He raised his white eyebrows, and his blue eyes met very black, very angry eyes. “Well? Think you have it in you?”
Harry burst out laughing. Draco sighed in dismay when Snape gave a ferocious growl and shoved Jaz toward the hall. It didn’t work. Jaz planted in place and was suddenly very tall as the potions master leaned over in attempt to push him out.
In what could only be described as graceful, Jaz fluidly spun Severus, set him in his chair, and shut the door to the classroom where he leaned against it. Transformed, he was tall and narrow with a long, cat like tail that flicked languidly against the door. Jaz studied his claws and let Snape calm down. “Mr. Malfoy, the blood would not be all at once, of course. Ideally, we would find Mr. Potter before reaching such a volume, but I do not like to mince words when it comes to the things needed to sacrifice.”
Draco didn’t reply. He was too busy staring at Severus’s confused, dazed face. Severus was holding his head in both hands while hunched forward in his chair like he was going to be sick.
“Don’t mind him. It happens from time to time. He should be okay in about fifteen minutes.” Jaz reached for his notebook once again. “The energy creatures like us give off just rattles some people. It makes them a bit irrational at times. Volatile. Likely why your Mr. Potter was always getting into so many fights.”
Harry raised his brows at that. How he remembered thing, most of those fights were with Malfoy, who was apparently another creature.
Do unwoken creatures tend to react to each other?
“Oh my, yes. It’s usually how they wake up. Bit too much energy… mix some bloodlust in there. We’re all just animals at the end of the day.”
Draco slid his gaze toward Harry, his silver eyes a bit hazy. “Always violent, or maybe sometimes just, um, lust?”
Jaz grinned wickedly, his sharp teeth again making an appearance as he flipped through pages. “I would avoid sex with another creature, if that is your concern. Many wake up that way.”
“So there might be a drive, then?” Draco gnawed on his lip and looked determinedly away from Harry’s direction.
“Mmm, most assuredly. Usually initiated by scent, sometimes blood, too.” As if he just heard himself, Jaz glanced up and met Draco’s gaze. “You may not want to be so close that you can smell him. Scent can be a rather dangerous game.”
Draco swallowed and shifted forward from Harry’s embrace. The back of his neck turned red. “But, they’re not all the same. Not everyone is going to, uh, respond, right? He might not even be anything like me.”
“Oh, he’s something. Same dimension, with intense power and strength. Tell me, would you say he’s possessive at all?”
I’m right bloody here, you know. Harry scrawled. Jaz and Draco’s eyes drifted to the page but neither bothered to address him.
“Definitely relentless,” Draco said with lashes lowered. “Entitled, like he just expects agreement. Bold, with no sense of personal boundaries at all.”
“That does sound like the type. Jealous?”
“Yes. He seems to be intent to make sure other’s know just how bloody close he can get to me.”
It’s the only way to show I’m here.
“Bullshit. You grabbed me in the Great Hall just to show them you could,” Draco snapped. “Licked me right up my neck. Who the hell does that?”
Harry glared and then shrugged. He nuzzled into Draco’s neck and fanned hot breath on his skin. “Yeah, so who the fuck cares? Not like you don’t like it.” He was fairly certain Draco fucking loved it, given the way his pulse increased and body tightened and then relaxed into him.
“It sounds like he’s chasing you,” Jaz spoke slowly, his eyes tight to where Draco’s hair was shifting. “Might be, he even thinks he’s caught you, which would explain his lack of the more competitive, aggressive behaviors. There’s no competition on his particular plane.”
“Oh, we used to fight all the goddamn time when he was visible,” Draco said shakily. He tried to throw Harry off his shoulder and failed. “Competed in quidditch to the point of a lot of bloody fist fights—Potter, I am fucking warning you,” Draco growled.
Harry just smirked and kissed his neck again. He let his teeth slide over the sensitive flesh. “Hey, you’re the one ignoring me.”
Jaz raised a brow, his notes discarded on the table. “Has he ever fought over you, not just with you?”
Draco went to shake his head and then stopped. “Once, I think.”
“Mr. Potter? Have you?” Jaz asked as he looked in Harry’s general direction.
“Oh, so now everyone cares what I think.” Anthony Holt called him a death eater in training and I beat his face in. Harry wrote out.
“I was thinking about Boyle, actually,” Draco muttered.
Ah. I could see how you might think that.
“Because he tried to kiss me…”
Shouldn’t have done it in front of me.
“It was just a fucking game,” Draco snapped.
So is quidditch and I fucking own in that too.
“You arrogant, bullheaded piece of shit…”
Jaz snorted loudly. “Well it doesn’t get much clearer than that. I would recommend some space if you’re serious about staying human. You two are a damn powder keg.”
“I’ve been trying to get space but the bloody bastard won’t give it!” Draco snarled and attempted to pull himself from Harry’s arms when both suddenly wrapped around him tight.
Harry pushed forward and trapped Draco against his chest instead of the chair back. “Maybe if you would stop moaning every time I breathe on you, I’d be more willing to give you space.” Although, even then he probably wouldn’t. He’d try pull said noises from Draco in other ways.
“I think the first thing we need to do is make you a proper pen. This,” Jaz indicated Draco’s flustered form as he tried to free himself, “Is not helping matters.”
Draco nodded quickly, then yelped as Harry bit his neck. “He can touch things that hold enough magic.”
“Maybe we could wrap you in some sort of barrier? So that he can’t… He does not seem happy about that idea, does he?” Jaz hummed as Harry began to scrawl furiously with Draco’s hand.
Are you fucking serious? I haven’t had physical contact with another human being in nearly a year and you want to—
“Malfoy!” Harry growled when Draco slammed his free hand down on the quill.
“Potter, you will compromise and acknowledge some fucking boundaries, or I’m putting a barrier up and keeping it up.”
Glaring at the very determined look in Draco’s eyes, Harry slowly relaxed his hold around his torso.
“More,” Draco insisted.
I won’t be able to write if I let go.
“Do I look like I give a fuck?”
You look like you want to be fucked, you sexy prat.
“Son of a—You are so fucking dead!” Harry realized very quickly although Draco couldn’t punch through the chair to get at him, he was more than willing to grab him by the hair and shove him to the ground.
Jaz waited patiently. He seemed unperturbed Draco was fighting an invisible force and kicking the ground ferociously. “Careful, Mr. Malfoy. He won’t fight you back and he’s already damaged.”
“It’s Potter; of course he’ll fight back,” Draco snarled.
“Not anymore. Considering your description, he’s going to be clingy, aggressive, and absolutely yielding to anything you want. Except space, because he likely can’t help himself.”
Draco stopped his vindictive kicking when he realized although Harry was blocking his feet very well, he wasn’t actually lashing back. “I thought you didn’t know what he was?” he asked, his face flushed as he sat back down.
“Still don’t. This is more identifying common behavioral traits in beasts. The same way you’re showing the common signs of pursuit through hot and cold behavior, luring attention and then pushing away…”
“Bloody am not!”
Jaz tilted his head. “And likely making things very interesting, if not confusing for our invisible friend here.”
Harry sat up and licked his bloodied hand. “Fucking knew it, Malfoy. You’re a bloody fucking tease.”
“Ridiculous. Luring… I didn’t even know he was here until yesterday!”
Harry grabbed Draco’s hand and waited for him to grudgingly pick up the quill.
Draco scowled and refused to speak.
You Want Me.
“Potter I will wake up Snape so fucking fast, you won’t even understand how strong his protection spell will be!”
Jaz looked over at Severus, who had slipped from dazed into sleep at some point during the commotion. “That can’t be good. He must be particularly sensitive. Troubling, considering all the help I’m going to need from his potion work.” He pushed his glasses back from their slipped location and went to his bag across the room. “Alright gentlemen, I think it’s time we wrap this up. Mr. Potter, I will be taking some of Mr. Malfoy’s blood and I ask you be calm about it.”
Harry glanced up from where he was watching Draco’s emotions swiftly shift across his face while he kept reading the last line left on the page. He seriously doubted he was going to flip out over Draco getting a damn needle in the arm… Harry saw the wicked blade in Jaz’s hand and without any thought, pulled Draco up over the chair backward and across the room.
“It only looks gruesome, I promise,” Jaz said lightly. “The spell does the slicing and collecting. I just enchanted a weapon so no one would confuse it for something else.”
“Potter, you’re being ridiculous,” Draco muttered but Harry could see his was pale in fear.
“If you want, you can hold him steady. But it’s not going to hurt.” With a swift, fluid motion, Jaz crossed the room and pressed the blade to Draco’s inner arm.
Harry and Draco both stared. Draco went stiff in fear but not in pain. A container in Jaz’s hand swiftly filled with dark, deoxygenated blood and the blade was removed. Draco was left to stare blankly at the small drops of red left on his arm. Harry ran his finger over the fluid as he sought the wound, only to have the blood stick to his fingertips.
“Look at that.” Jaz hummed when he could see some shape to one of Harry’s fingers as the blood wrapped around his flesh. “Hardly a longterm solution, but you could just cover him in some of your blood.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Draco wasn’t about to split his veins open just so he could see Harry.
“Alright, off with you. I need to fix your grumpy professor here and get this potion going. We should have some answers within the week. Hopefully.” Jaz waved them away and his eyes again strayed to his notebook. He left blood and blade on Snape’s desk as he looked something up. Harry had to wonder how long the strange man was going to let Severus sleep before he remembered to wake him.
Alone with Harry back in his bedroom, Draco found himself uncomfortable. Although Harry didn’t make another attempt to touch him beyond his hand to show he made it in the door, Draco felt edgy and flustered. He was expecting him to at any moment.
Partly, Draco wanted to ask Harry a million damn questions, many of them concerning just what the fuck he wanted from him. But that would involve the quill and the extreme closeness. Draco didn’t think he could handle that in his current state while alone with no other people to interrupt.
He missed lunch, barely ate breakfast and was not really in the mood for dinner even though it was the right time for it. Draco decided to catch up on some homework since he was extremely behind in most of his classes. He tried for as long as he could as his eyelids grew heavy and revealed just how difficult it was for him to concentrate. He kept trying to feel Harry’s presence but he was tucked away somewhere and wasn’t making himself known.
He dozed. Draco nodded awake to a dimly lit room and a full bladder. There was a spell in place to lower the lights during sleeping hours. He stumbled around his desk, careful not to knock his books from the surface as he made his way to the bathroom. Blearily he stripped and swayed in the tiled room after he dried his hands. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to shower or just go straight to bed. He’d have to wake up early to shower in the morning and that sounded miserable too.
Hands touched his shoulders in the dim light, warm compared to the chill dungeon air on his skin. With a shiver, Draco didn’t resist when Harry pressed his hot body up against his back and held him lightly. “Thought I told you to stay out of my loo,” Draco murmured sleepily. Harry’s hands moved around his waist and with palms flat, pushed up his sides. “Oh.”
Harry bent his head against Draco’s neck, speaking something he couldn’t make out beside it being tickly. Draco’s gaze drifted down with nothing to focus on. He could feel Harry tremble behind him; his chest heaved as if he just ran and his pulse fluttered in the fingers digging in to his sides. “Potter, are you…? Oh, hell.” Draco’s eyes fluttered shut. He shifted so Harry had better access to his neck as hot, open mouthed kisses rained down.
This was very much a bad idea. Draco remembered the words Harry wrote while in Snape’s office. They were very true words, which made them dangerous. He wanted Harry. He wanted Harry to want him, take him, fill him. Right now, half asleep with Harry rubbing strong, unsteady hands over him, he couldn’t remember why it was a bad idea.
Draco arched back with a loud gasp when Harry’s hands moved up his flat stomach and chest. His hands slid down and fingers dragged wonderful friction with every inch. Harry stopped right above his boxers, his fingertips just brushing to prove if he went lower, there would be no fabric to stop him. His fingers splayed wider, Harry hands moved slightly to the sides and he palmed up his body again. His touch was slow and so heated, Draco could only moan. Fingers teased around his nipples and squeezed, fire tingling all the way down to his toes.
It was quiet. Draco’s uneven pants were broken by soft, aching cries that echoed in the dim bathroom. There was the light scrape of flesh on flesh as Harry rubbed his palms down and dared lower. Draco watched unseeing as fingers ran over the front of his hips and caressed his soft flesh stretched over hard bone. Harry moved lower to the tops of his trembling thighs. His large hands wrapped possessively as Harry stopped and again bit fingers in to indent Draco’s flesh.
“Harry.” Draco exhaled as the world spun. He could feel the unmistakable press of Harry’s erection against his ass when he bent over him. His eyes closed and Draco’s head fell back to land on the wide shoulder behind him. Soft hair tickled against his ear. Harry turned his face and kissed him slowly, deeply, until Draco couldn’t stand anymore and his knees grew weak. Harry’s hands moved to his hips again and held him up. He rubbed small circles on his flesh while Draco quaked.
“Oh god… hell. Potter, please stop. I-I can’t stop.” Harry pressed up against him and ground his hard length between his ass cheeks. Draco was certain if he just moved a small inch or so, it would be up against his hole, stretch into him, claim him. It would be, god, so good. It would be so, so fucking good. “Please… have to stop,” he moaned even as he pressed back into the delicious sensation.
A low rumble tore through Harry’s chest. Cold suddenly hit his back when Harry stepped away, his large hands holding his shoulders hard to keep Draco from falling. Draco swayed with head bowed forward and gasps shaking him.
Harry’s hands felt like steel and his breath scalding as it hit the back of his neck in harsh pants. Harry pushed him forward, step after step. Draco raised his hands to catch the cool tile before his head fell against it. “Stop,” he whispered. He closed his eyes and rested his face on the wall. His hard cock jolted from the cold feel of the tile through his fabric barrier.
Rough, forceful hands pressed to Draco’s back, moved over his shoulders and shoulder blades, grasped and massaged and rubbed into him as if trying to ingrain his touch into his muscles. Down, over his back and lower back, the curve of his spine and up his sides again, fingers dragged, and short nails scratched. “Oh, fuck… fuck, Harry.” Lower still, they grabbed Draco’s hips, fingers splayed over his ass, thumbs dug in and pressed firm as Harry cupped his cheeks and pushed him forward. “Oh, god. Please.”
The hand found his thighs, grabbed the thick, tense muscles and spread them wide. Harry kicked Draco’s feet as the side of a hand pressed against his crack and pushed in and brushed his hole. Draco jerked forward into the cool tile and cried out. His entire body was tense as Harry turned his hand and touched fingertips ever so lightly against his tight entrance. Draco sobbed from the soft touch. Sweat dripped down his face and he spread his legs wider in anticipation.
Harry roughly turned him, pushed him back against the tile and kissed him hard and demanding. Draco did everything he could to not beg for more, to not turn and bend and beg Harry to finish what he started. Instead he threw his arms around his neck and clung on the best he could while Harry kissed and nipped down his throat, his hot breath exploding in fast bursts. Harry’s hands moved over his sides possessively, his hips rubbing his hard burning cock into Draco’s. Draco spread again and lifted his knee up the side of Harry’s strong thigh. Harry grabbed his leg, pulled it up higher with a wrench and ground against Draco’s tight body. Shakily, he pushed away.
Harry was gone. His body heat and presence disappeared and left Draco cold and confused. Trembling, Draco moaned. His legs were unable to stand and he slipped down the wall onto the floor in a heap.
“Damn it… fucking damn it.” His head bowed down, Draco gaped. Sweat dripped down his face and his body was so fucking tight and aching he didn’t know how he wasn’t on fire. Just char left on the floor. He buried his face in his hands, felt the saliva drip down his chin. He followed with his hands, over his jaw, down his throat with hard, dragging fingers as he groaned. “Fuck!”
Fucking Potter. God, how the fuck was he supposed to ever touch that mean bitch after this? Bear a child with her? Fuck. A turkey baster had a better fucking chance.
Draco’s hands were on his thighs and through his boxers before he even realized it. One moved down to grasp his painfully hard dick and the other pushed fingers and roughly probed into the heat inside his aching hole. He didn’t care he was loud. His moans echoed as he bucked on the floor and wished it could be Harry fucking him instead of his narrow fingers.
He came with something near a scream. His head slammed back against the tile, body tingled, blood roared in his ears as red flashed behind his eyes.
He was so fucked. So impossibly begging for it, on his knees, fucked. God damn fucking Potter for ruining his fucking life.
Draco didn’t say a word when he woke up. He dragged himself from bed, collected his school things and got ready for class. He ignored Harry at the door by holding it open long enough but without reaching his hand out to make sure he followed. He didn’t acknowledge him in the Great Hall no matter how curious glances Blaise and Pansy cast. It was a full table and it wasn’t safe to talk about him anyways.
Harry was relieved. He almost stayed behind in the room. To see Malfoy was to want him every fucking moment. Harry had fought with himself repeatedly while Draco slept. He went so far as to hide in the bathroom so he wouldn’t be constantly faced with his beautiful, sleep filled face and long, pale limbs… hard, tight torso…
He couldn’t remember wanting anything so badly in his life than to touch Draco Malfoy. It was insane to think he once thought he could sit back and look and just breathe hot air. He once stood mere feet away while Draco shoved fingers deep inside, cried his release with his name on his lips and he hadn’t taken him. Pure madness.
He hadn’t planned on touching him last night. He was just checking up on him. Draco looked so tired when he stumbled into the bathroom, he just wanted to make sure he didn’t fall asleep. Draco was just standing there, staring at the shower with his slender, nearly nude body shivering in the cool air. All Harry could think about was the first time he saw him shower. It played out vividly in his mind until he was left shaking, staring at Draco and needing.
The dangerous feeling was all around him when he slipped hands on Draco’s bare back. Draco’s sleepy sigh only made it worse. He was going to need to find somewhere else to stay at night. He nearly had him twice. Twice he could have been buried deep inside him that very night. Fuck, even a third when Draco’s cries rang out as he masturbated. Harry forced himself to stay in the bedroom to keep from taking what he so readily wanted. He almost went back in. He knew if he did, Draco’s wouldn’t have resisted and he wouldn’t have been able to stop.
It was the worst part, what stole the last of his damn restraint. He felt Draco give in and it broke something inside him. His self control crumbled when Draco pushed back and tried to get his unstretched hole against Harry’s hard cock while at the very same fucking time begged him to stop. Harry wanted to scream. He had screamed in the bedroom when he finally gained some control. When he finally pried his hands from the gorgeous guy who fucking wanted him, needed him, and still refused to have him. After Harry shouted and yelled the unfairness of it all into the ether and Draco went to bed, he hid in the bathroom. He jerked off where he wouldn’t have a sleeping Draco to look at and imagine covering with his hot, claiming fluids like a deranged pervert.
He never thought he was a pervert until Draco Malfoy. He never wanted to dirty someone so thoroughly until he saw the immaculate prat. After watching Draco fight his own very human needs for a lie of breeding and family, Harry wanted to do fucking terrible, degenerate things. A part of Harry hoped if he soiled him dark and deep enough, it would make Malfoy realize there was no going back.
The beast inheritance would let him do exactly that. He could wake up Draco’s beast with enough filthy, dirty sex until he was nothing more than a panting, begging animal. That version of Malfoy would never choose a fake marriage over him. No, he would bend to him whenever he wanted, stay at his heel, under his thumb, and ride his cock whenever he demanded it. Fuck, and he would demand it.
A shift happened in Harry as he paced the Great Hall. His thoughts grew darker and his body and energy changed to reflect his very needy, possessive thoughts. He felt strong again even with the bursts of energy warning him he wasn’t stable. He felt like he was facing down Voldemort again and he was powerful and unmatched against his enemy. But it wasn’t an enemy, it was Draco. It wasn’t fighting but fucking his body was consumed with.
Harry wasn’t certain if he did fuck Draco the feeling would disappear this time.
Draco got up from the breakfast table to go to class. Harry hung back and followed far behind. He waited outside the classroom door. He didn’t want to see Malfoy, didn’t want to be tempted with his glowing pallor and crystal clear gaze that looked right through him. Harry knew he couldn’t stop himself. The same way he couldn’t stop himself from kissing Draco the other night, he couldn’t stop now. And this time he wanted far more than kisses.
Draco was called to Dumbledore’s office after a tasteless lunch. His morning was a blur of slow, mundane classes and wild, tilting thoughts of sex, Potter and his farce of a future. Almost as if his state of mind beckoned her, Narcissa Malfoy was waiting for him, elegant and stiff in Dumbledore’s office.
His mother was not alone. Snape, Jaz McVicar and Dumbledore stood across from her like they were facing off in a duel Draco interrupted with his presence. With sinking dread, he realized she must know about Potter. Otherwise why include the men working on the solution? He could be wrong and he made sure to not make any movements which could attract Harry to his side. Although he hadn’t spoken with Harry all morning, he was certain he was still there, even though he could not scent or sense him at the moment.
“Hello, Mother. Is everything all right?” Draco asked blandly as he stepped into the room and watched all eyes turn to him. His head of house was looking murderous, Dumbledore’s twinkle was lost from his eyes and Jaz was showing his teeth. The sharp fangs peek out in quiet threat to the woman before them. Narcissa was still, her face a perfect mask of docility and properness. It was very much her battle mask and Draco braced himself.
“I’ve arranged for you to come home, Draco,” Narcissa said softly, her hands stiff before her. “I have hired a tutor to help you with the NEWT finals and catch you up with the rest of your classes. It’s all been organized. We’re just in need of you and your things.”
“I see.” Draco stepped further into the room and walked up to his mother. In a practiced move, they embraced briefly; Narcissa managed to be hugged without actual contact. It was a skill Draco never quite learned or wanted for himself. “Mother, may I ask why you feel such drastic measures are needed? I’m only months away from the end of my school term.”
Narcissa pulled away and glanced at the men on the other side of the room. “It’s come to my attention your grades have been slipping. I am concerned, Draco. Your wedding is coming up and I want you to be focused.”
Draco could sense the lie and decided to unwind it. “Mother, removing me from school would only make things more difficult right now. I have goals here and connections to forge for my career at the Ministry. Skipping out on my graduation will undermine that, as I’m sure you’re aware. I cannot accept leaving early. I can always retake the NEWTs at a later time, if needed.”
Narcissa’s eyes flashed, a small crack in her well worn mask. Lucius being away had made her tired, troubled. Her own short time in prison didn’t do well for her either. “Draco, I will not allow you to participate in what is happening here.”
“I don’t see how you can think to stop me.” Draco stepped around her and joined his teachers on the other side of his mother. “I’ll do as I please in this.”
“You are jeopardizing everything,” she said louder as she turned to face the four of them. “For—for that boy. It will be safe at home and without such distractions. You don’t want to be known as the one who saved him.”
Draco raised a brow, inwardly shocked she would be so outright. “Mother, that is exactly what I want. Nothing has been jeopardized. I will marry Miss Vellamorn in a few weeks time. I will return home from school after graduating. When I join the Ministry to start my apprenticeship, I will be known as the man who helped bring Harry Potter back.”
“No, Mother. Madness would be to try and stop me. Or would you prefer I rot in jail with father. You would be left alone to run a failing household with no male heir and no political power. You cannot remarry unless Father is dead, and who would have you with our name so disgraced?” He squared his shoulders and let his anger reach his voice to match her flashing eyes. “Voldemort lost. He will never rise again. You picked the losing side and I did not. You won’t sway me now, the same as you could not sway me when the Dark Lord still lived.”
Narcissa put a hand to her face, a lace handkerchief in her grasp to appear to dab dry eyes. Slowly, she gave a small curtsy, assenting to Draco’s stance. “My son, I am in need of you and your strong will even more with your father away. Forgive me for assuming you would have need of my counsel when still you are strong in your beliefs. I have a gift for you to help keep our name pure as you pursue this endeavor. If you will accept?”
Draco was suspicious. He didn’t expect his mother to cave so readily. It could be because of their audience, Dumbledore specifically. Or Mother was even more tired than she first let on. Azkaban might have drained the fight out of her. He approached warily, and watched as Narcissa took out a small box.
“What is it? Jewelry?”
Narcissa nodded and opened the box to reveal a silver ring. “Your father’s ring. We didn’t think you would need it, Draco. You showed no signs of the spoiled blood. This will contain the beast and keep it from awakening.”
Draco reached for the silver circle; a feathered dragon stared back at him. “Then father has one as well? Still asleep?”
Narcissa lowered her head and took a moment to speak. “The ring kept him from disgracing his name, as it has for all the Malfoy heirs. He will not be returning from that place. Better now to be a beast, than a man among beasts.”
Draco glared, his anger rising at her words. “You have both disgraced us far more than any beast could. I’ll wear it because that is what I must do. Not because I fear to be known for what I am.”
“I know that well of you. Thank you, my son, for ensuring the name and safety of your family even now.” Narcissa reached her hand forward and Draco kissed it stiffly. His mother refused to meet his eye.
This would have gone much differently if Potter was dead and Voldemort alive. His father would have come to him to chain his beast and there would be no question who was the disgrace. It was a gamble to choose Potter, one not made out of cunning and plotting, but desperate, foolish hope a life without Voldemort could one day exist. No one, not even Draco, actually thought it to ever be possible. It didn’t mean he was above exploiting it now.
“It was good to see you, Mother. I expect you before next month to finalize the rest of the wedding plans.”
“Yes, Draco. Very little is left and Serene is enraptured in anticipation. She will be relieved to know you wear the ring.”
Draco sighed inwardly and slipped the bloody thing on. It didn’t seem to hold much magic but now on his finger he could feel the power of it stealing his senses away. All of a sudden Snape was there. His hands held Draco’s shoulders to keep him upright.
Narcissa held her hand up soothingly. “It was the same with your father, and with his. The sensation passes and then it is as if it never was. I will see you shortly, Draco. I hope to see an improvement in your focus.”
Draco ignored her departure and scowled as the world continued to spin around him. He tore the ring from his finger and threw it to the ground. “Pureblood nonsense,” he muttered angrily. He turned unsteadily to his silent companions. “She knew everything, not just the blood inheritance. How has Potter’s condition gotten out?”
Dumbledore stepped to his desk. He summoned tea and chairs, the closest of which Draco dizzily sank into. “I have to assume it was a breach off the floo network. It was the only transport of questionable information and we’ve been having problems with it lately. It makes the most sense. That your mother has connections to whoever is spying is concerning.”
“Oh, you think?” Draco continued to scowl as he took the offered tea. He nearly scalded himself as he drank it down. Jaz was holding the ring he threw and was studying it carefully. “I will eventually need that. If you wish to look it over you may.”
“I would. This has been crafted specifically for your family’s beast inheritance. This, with your blood, could pinpoint exactly what we need.”
Draco shook his head wearily. Of course it could. Of course his mother would give him a chain to bind his power instead of using it as a gift to save.
“Mr. Malfoy, I would ask that you reconsider this plan of yours,” Severus drawled cautiously, pulling Draco from his thoughts.
“The wedding. There is some truth to what your mother has said. You lack focus. Your grades are failing, as is your health. Postponing until after school has ended would be more than understanding given the situation.”
Draco waved his hand dismissively. “It’s a ceremony, that’s all. A day away and then back to school. I haven’t had to lift a finger, never mind spare it a thought.”
“Yes, but a day away while you hold the key to Mr. Potter’s safe return could be far more insidious than first thought. If you are kidnapped or ensnared to hurt Mr. Potter while outside the safety of the school’s wards, there can be little to stop it.”
Draco paused and placed his empty tea cup and saucer down onto Dumbledore’s desk. He stood. “I’ll consider it. Hopefully he’ll be back before then and it won’t be an issue.”
“Mr. Malfoy, before you go. I’d like to experiment with the ring, if you would be so willing?” Draco pursed his lips and stared warily at the ring in Jaz’s hand. He eventually nodded.
“I will need Mr. Potter’s insight as well.” Jaz turned to his right and faced the corner of the office. “I want to see how it effects the beast on the dimension it dwells on.”
Draco nostril’s flared in warning but he took the quill handed to him. He was in a fighting mood since facing his mother down and wasn’t sure being close to Harry was the best idea. Especially after last night’s heated encounter and now Harry knew his wedding was so soon. Draco sat back down in his chair with hand poised over the parchment Dumbledore unfurled.
Harry didn’t approach him or, if he did, not close enough for Draco to sense. Draco kept his gaze lowered with his brow’s furrowed. He would be damned before he actually called Harry over in invitation.
“Mr. Potter, I just need to know what you saw when he placed the ring on. That’s all.” Jaz looked toward the center of the room, then exchanged glances with Severus and Dumbledore.
“Harry, are you feeling well?” Dumbledore called, concern clear in his expression.
Draco felt him then. Harry hovered at the edge of his awareness, hot energy curling toward him. Harry’s scent was different… heady and dark. It was full of lust and power and still, very much him. Dizzy… so hot and dizzy…
Draco shot to his feet and turned to sit on Dumbledore’s desk to give himself space. “The ring. Now,” he gasped. Jaz tossed it to him. Draco placed it on immediately after he caught it and the world spun again. It was a relief even as nausea threatened from the rocking tilting of it all.
“What’s happened?” Dumbledore asked as he steadied Draco from behind.
Draco couldn’t answer immediately as he tried to gain his bearings. “I think… No, I’m certain. He’s transformed.”
There was a collective sharp intake of breath in the room. Harry was not only intangible, but he was also no longer fully human. Jaz broke the silence. “His awakening hasn’t repaired the problem. That theory is out. Mr. Potter, I would ask you give Mr. Malfoy and I space to study the ring. We don’t want to trigger the same state in Mr. Malfoy. Can you agree to that?”
Again Draco felt Harry hover at the edge of his awareness. Draco hesitantly reached his hand out and brushed fingertips to Harry’s. The spark of contact was intense. Draco’s eyes widened from the feel of power and heat and reacted. A shiver started in the pit of his stomach and traveled simultaneously to his head and toes to fill Draco with heat and addle his senses even more.
“This… this is going to be a problem,” Draco whispered roughly. He pulled his hand away and stared at it unseeing. He forced himself back to reality with a shake of his head. He grabbed the quill and turned to the desk so Harry could write out a response to Jaz. The moment he did, his senses warned how dangerous it was to turn his back to Harry in that moment with his scent hot around him.
Harry didn’t touch his back. His body heat was extremely close but didn’t connect. Strong fingers wrapped around Draco’s hand. Draco couldn’t stop the way he gasped from the touch. Harry wrote with quick, jerking movements.
I will stay outside the room, all rooms, from now on.
“Potter, is your magic working again?” Draco asked. He tried to ignore the confusing disappointment in his stomach to know Harry would no longer be lurking in his room watching him.
Yes. It’s changed. I’m relearning it.
“I can feel it now,” Draco murmured. The energy was so enticing and powerful around him. “I can feel how you destroyed Voldemort.”
Harry’s free hand pressed to the back of his neck. He wrapped long fingers and gripped firmly. Breath puffed over his cheek and drew Draco’s eyes. This time when he felt Harry’s stare, it was as if a predator was looking back. He knew green eyes were drinking him in, waiting for him to slip and signal the end of the hunt.
“Shit.” Draco closed his eyes but it was no good. The unsettling feeling grew in the vulnerable darkness behind his eyelids.
Are there anymore questions? Harry wrote. Draco felt the tremor in the hand holding his.
“Quickly,” Draco rasped when Jaz hummed thoughtfully over Harry’s magic returning.
“I want to know how the ring has affected Mr. Malfoy’s creature on its plane. Just to ensure it’s not harming him.”
Harry pulled away. Draco slumped and sat in the seat again with a heavy sigh. It was a long time before Harry returned. Draco wondered if he saw something terrible or maybe Harry couldn’t bear to be so close to him. Draco wasn’t sure how long he could be near Harry like this.
At his approach, Draco poised the quill again. Harry was swift to grab his hand. This time he pushed forward and pressed his wide shoulders to Draco’s back. His head hovered at the crook of his sensitive neck and Harry shakily breathed fire over him.
Draco didn’t bother looking at the words scratched out messily. He was fixated on every hot spot where his body touched Harry’s. He liked his new scent, a lot. He liked the way Harry’s energy was licking at him and trembling over his skin in hot caresses. He very much liked the way Harry kept shaking, as if at any moment he would lose it, his self control would break and he’d just have to take him. Draco didn’t know what it was like to be wanted in such a way but he was finding he really enjoyed it.
Harry’s hand stopped writing and started to move up his arm. His palm contoured to his form, fingers dragged heavily up to his forearm, bicep, shoulder, and then landed again on the back of his neck. Harry continued to hover. He pushed his body away from Draco’s but left his hand. His fingers kneading into the muscles of his neck while Draco read.
The ring has changed his color. The glow is weaker like his magic in that form is bound and has no outlet. He doesn’t look ill. No wounds or physical deformities. Just quieter. He’s still solid to me, and he seems to sense me just as well. Whatever the ring does, it’s happening on the other dimensions and is keeping his glow from reaching through the other planes.
“You’re right,” Jaz said as he blinked at Draco. “It’s cut his glow from my eyes. Interesting… I would like to test the ring right away.”
“I, uh, have class still,” Draco pointed out. Harry’s hand slipped down. It kneaded at his shoulders and broke up the tension there, only to replace it with a fiery tension of a different kind.
“Would you permit me to borrow it until this evening, when I can then return it?”
Draco bit his lip and glanced in Harry’s direction. In understanding, Harry pulled away and his presence disappeared from Draco’s senses. “Alright. For now.” Draco pulled the ring from his finger. He blinked repeatedly as the world roared back into focus. It didn’t seem different once he got used to the dizziness. Without the ring, everything was somehow a bit brighter, color more vibrant, smells and sensations more intense.
Harry had spent the entire morning not touching him. Draco was fairly certain he could go the rest of the day the same way.
Draco enjoyed a good two hours with Jaz after his classes where they studied the ring and Jaz asked questions about his beast. Later, he joined him for dinner. Severus stopped in from time to time to discuss the blood-based potion they were working on and ate as well.
The two men were comforting personalities after seeing his mother. Snape was a long time quiet protector once Draco realized the professor’s loyalty to Dumbledore. Severus offered support to see Draco safe when he refused the dark mark last year. When his parents were jailed and the Ministry was tearing through Malfoy Manor, Draco couldn’t even think of a place to turn. Severus contacted the Zabinis who opened up their home to Draco and gave him a decent summer.
Jaz was different, more distracted and less known. But he was easy to talk to about the fucking mess who was sitting outside the door waiting for him. The specialist showed no embarrassment or even misgiving in any of it, as if the wild, hot need roiling off of Potter was everyday as breathing.
He acted as if the way Draco felt maddened and out of control at the slightest scent of it was to be expected and accepted. Hell, Draco was pretty sure Jaz thought it was a desirable thing to have in one’s life to feel crazed at even the the though of a particularly hot body—no matter it wasn’t in the conventional shape Draco grew up being told to expect these feeling to manifest for. Magic was in a lot of ways a great anomaly and yet he readily accepted it into his life. He could only hope this too may one day be accepted.
Draco hesitated at first when Severus walked through again to ask another question of Jaz. Jaz was still talking quite blatantly about how natural it was for him to react to Potter’s animalistic energy. Severus didn’t seem disturbed or repulsed by it. He didn’t even seem surprised. He went so far as to fluidly add something into the conversation before he disappeared again. Draco thought maybe, just maybe Snape wouldn’t think he was a terrible person for being gay and wanting to be fucked by Potter beyond any reasonable restraint.
“I don’t know how to break it to you, Draco. The feeling isn’t going to go away.” Jaz hummed softly as he sipped his cocoa. “It’s not something you can just wrangle into a ball, lock away inside and ignore. The mating urge is designed in magical creatures so it can’t be ignored. They’re so rare, the only way they have existed so long is to ensure their survival through companionship and mating.”
Draco wrinkled his nose as a rather terrible thought came to mind. “It’s not mating, Jaz. Not like breeding. We’re both males. It’s sex, if anything.”
Jaz quirked a brow behind his dark frames. “No, but you are still a magical animal. I’m one and when the mating urge hits with someone compatible, its not just sex. It’s companionship. It’s the want to raise a family and to strengthen in the community to protect your territory. How your family may come to be will vary, either through breeding, adoption or magical manipulation of DNA, but the underlying base urges are still there. You might not notice them right now, seeing as you’re focused on some very hot, overwhelming feeling whenever around him, but believe me, it is there driving things beneath the surface.”
Draco shrugged at the notion and scowled down at the table. “I don’t even want that with the one my mother picked for me. I’m pretty damn terrified I’ll raise a magical child and having him or her turn out to be like my parents or my many deranged relatives. Let’s face it, I have no experience for loving someone. I barely had it for myself. A child would just suffer around someone like me.”
“That is some heavy shit, kid.” Jaz tapped his nails lightly on the table. “I think you’re just a bit too deep in your situation to see things clearly. I don’t know you well, but I know you’re not that. You’re still in your selfish years like most kids your age, yet you keep sacrificing for others every chance you get. You’re not so fucked you need to worry about becoming that empty thing who claimed to be your mother.”
“But she is my mother. That deranged, manipulative, self-serving woman would rather I follow my father into a jail cell than let me be happy and do what I feel is right. She’s my flesh and blood. What chance do I have to be a decent human being?” Draco sipped at his hot chocolate and watched the melted marshmallow foam float in soothing patterns.
“You can’t blame the boy, McVicar,” Severus muttered. He smoothly took a seat next to Draco with a fresh cup of tea steaming in hand. The potion was in the next stage and needed little attention for a good seven hours still. “You were muggleborn. You likely had a completely different experience since you’re also part magical creature. The Malfoys and every pureblood out there shame anyone with the traits even though their ancestors sought to mate with the creatures to begin with to gain the amazing power they bestowed. The lines are damn twisted and full of the deranged, power-hungry and plain soulless. It’s almost as if somehow feeling was just bred out.”
Jaz shrugged. He didn’t have much experience with purebloods beyond the few who pretended to not be when they sought his help. “Is this a first hand thing, Severus? Do you deny children because of your family history as well? I have a feeling all you purebloods are going to die out pretty damn soon.”
“No, my reasons are a bit more complicated.” Severus tilted his head a moment. “Reasons which may change now the Dark Lord is dead. I have less fear of needing to protect a child of my own, never mind so many of the children in this castle.”
“And would these potential offspring be of your genetic making?” Jaz pressed as his eyes flickered to Severus’s dark form.
Severus raised his cup and blew lightly on his tea. He blatantly ignored the question of his sexuality. “I am concerned my nonhuman genetics might end with me, if that is what you’re asking.”
“I knew it.” Jaz smiled lazily and stretched his arms on the table. He looked like a cat intently staring at prey.
Draco blinked up at his professor. “So you’re like me?”
Severus nodded and met his eyes. “Not on the same level. Not the same creature or intensity. But yes, I have some traits in my blood. The Snapes have a sordid history of the beasts, one difficult to hide. It was what allowed me to fight the dark mark and His influence on me all those many years. Also why I have some sensitivity…” He trailed off and glanced to the content looking white-haired man before them.
“Sensitivity,” Jaz echoed. His dark lips split into a vicious grin as he ran his eyes down and then up Severus.
“McVicar here clearly has little care of propriety. He was raised by muggles and is practically an outcast anyways,” Severus continued, his eyes narrowed on the annoying man. “He can get away with being who he is. He’s made a name for himself in his field, not to mention a pretty knut or two and doesn’t have to keep up appearances. Potter will be okay in that department as well, if we can get him back alive.”
Severus turned his gaze to Draco, who was trying not to smile at Jaz’s blatant interest. He was pretty sure the strange man just really liked to irritate his head of house. “For you, Draco, well, things will be different. Your parents and your name are already shamed after Voldemort’s fall. Even if you could separate yourself from their failure by helping restore Potter, it’s difficult to say it would be enough to keep you from being completely outcast from society if it were revealed you’re a beast.”
Draco frowned silently. He wasn’t sure if he really gave a crap anymore. He was young still and the ring prevented him from having to worry about his beast waking up and tarnishing the Malfoy name any further. It didn’t help a small, wicked voice inside insisted on pointing out just how life could be if he were just a beast.
A beast wouldn’t give in to expectations. He wouldn’t fucking care about his family name and the need to redeem it after his parents soaked it in blood and hate. He could pursue whatever life he wanted. He could even have a life with Potter as long as he was around, seen or unseen depending on the circumstances. And as a beast, maybe his eyes and ears would wake up. Maybe he’d see and hear Potter so every fucking delicious touch wasn’t unseen…
Wouldn’t that be a surprise? One day he might just find Harry, touch him, tease and taunt him until he couldn’t hold back anymore and he’d take him.
Heated thoughts swirled in his head. Draco watched Jaz stretch and his tongue slowly licked over his sharp teeth as he stared his scowling potions professor down. Could he ever be like that? So fucking confident not only in his inner beast and power but also in what his body so readily wanted every time around Harry?
Draco sighed and rested his head on his hands. Harry might be dead in weeks. Waking the beast up only to spend a lifetime as an outcast would probably be less fun alone.
He wasn’t a beast, he was a boy. One who gave in to pressure and only held his ground on the few really important things that mattered. His life as his own… for some reason it wasn’t one of the important things. Maybe because he couldn’t envision wanting anything for himself. He spent months ready to die instead of joining Voldemort. During that time he might have given away his will to live.
Draco had enough for the night. The ring wasn’t need for testing at the moment, and he slipped it back on. He sat still and let his stomach lurch around his dinner until he grew used to it.
“Thank you for dinner, Sirs. And for helping me to understand some things.” Draco stood unsteadily and gripped the chair as dizziness swayed him. It didn’t seem to want to let up, the blackness edged his vision, but he pushed through. Eventually the ring would relent. He nodded to the two men before he left.
Draco shut the door behind him. His eyes scanned the hallway for Harry even though he knew he wouldn’t make himself known. If just the touch of Harry’s energy had such an effect on him even while he was wearing the ring, what did seeing him do to Harry? He might never know. He might never get to see Harry and his reactions. He might never know his reactions to seeing Harry.
He was still really dizzy. Draco slowed his walk back to his room and leaned his hand on the wall.
It was the first time he tried to walk so soon after putting the ring on and Draco was quickly realizing it was a bad idea. Darkness tickled at his vision and his balance was off. It was a weird sensation where he didn’t notice until halfway through a step and felt confident. He kept lurching drunkenly as a result.
Draco licked his lips. He could feel Harry. He was hovering like he wanted to help him stand but was holding back. Draco was managing awkwardly on his own.
“It’s just the ring, Potter. I put it on right before I left and I’m dizzy,” Draco assured quietly as he tried with difficulty to keep his eyes open. He could feel Harry’s energy licking at him. His scent surrounded him and threatened to overwhelm even without Harry touching him. Draco took another step and nearly smacked his head into the wall when he slipped. Harry firmly grabbed him by the back of his neck. His large hand clamped down and fingers curved tight. He held Draco up steady in the simple, hot touch.
Draco swallowed hard. He couldn’t walk; his legs felt weak from his touch even when Harry was holding him upright. “I know you’re trying to help,” he whispered. His lips parted to release sharp pants of air. His chest heaved and heart pounded in his ears as Harry continued to hold him level. Harry was using such careless, perfect strength. It made him feel defenseless, breathless. Sparks of danger shot through him all the way down to his toes just thinking about it.
“Potter, I really need you to let me go.” Draco’s knees gave way at the admission of just how far gone he was from just a touch. He grabbed the wall but didn’t need to. Harry’s hold was firm. He compensated indiscernibly so Draco was exactly how he was moment ago even though his legs no longer supported him.
“My god, you are powerful,” Draco moaned. He wasn’t sure just when that became such an appealing trait to him but it absolutely was.
Harry’s breath touched his face and burned hot against his mouth. He knew he couldn’t see him but Draco opened his eyes. He wanted Harry to see him. He wanted those predatory eyes to see everything he did to him just by holding his neck.
“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?” Draco’s voice was barely a rasp. “You knew one fucking touch from your hand could completely devastate me?”
The fingers tightened on his neck. Draco moaned, low and keening, as Harry’s flat tongue licked up the side of his mouth and found and tasted the saliva already dripping from him. Harry’s touch made him salivate, made his knees break, his body burn. He made him so unbearably hard. Made him ache inside at the mere thought of Harry taking him. Harry licked him again, slow, rough from chin to the top of his gasping lips. His tongue dipped inside and found Draco’s. Harry covered his lips and stroked inside to thoroughly taste him.
“God… Holy fuck.” Harry’s hand forcefully lowered him down to his knees. Draco’s face slid down Harry’s hot body. He ran his tongue out and flicked to taste his chest, navel, fuck and then fuck…! Short, wiry hair brushed his lips and Harry’s hard, hot length bobbed against Draco’s chin and jaw as he was pushed down further.
Draco couldn’t stop the noise as it tore through him; it was something loud, needy and fucking desperate for everything he was certain was about to happen as he knelt in the damn hallway with his mouth hanging wide open, and looking for all the world like he was alone.
Fuck, Potter could soak him in cum and no one would fucking know.
Harry scent was a warm, heavy musk. His pubic hair was rough, damp as Draco nosed lower, his mouth wide and tongue rubbing hot trails everywhere he could reach. He could feel Harry’s dick twitch under his breath. He opened his eyes and lapped his tongue out, soaking with his saliva so he could fucking see what he was going to be choking on. “Shit. Holy shit.”
Draco panted roughly as he followed Harry’s thick cock up with his tongue, smoothed over hot flesh and spread as much of his fluid as he could. He stared in growing, awful wonder at just how big his cock was. “Holy fuck, you’re huge.”
Either Harry was shy about how incredibly hung he was, or Draco was too irresistible with his tongue hanging out while he gaped wide mouth at the sight. The pressure on his neck increased moments before his lips parted to Harry’s dick when he shoved inside. Draco whimpered, opened wide, his tongue flattened and then pressed up to meet the thick column of flesh. Harry’s hand on his nape held him in place as he stroked deep inside. Draco reached out and grabbed his thighs to clutch to the damp flesh and tight muscle as he gave in completely.
His cock dominated his mouth. It stole his breath and his senses until Draco was a mess of heat and craze want. He tried not to choke as his tip ground against the back of his throat with every long stroke. Draco’s eyes were slit open, fixed on what he could see. He was nearly cross-eyed as he watched his saliva coat and reveal Harry’s dick as it slowly thrust in and out of his mouth with shallow pumps.
It was his first time sucking cock. Draco was probably missing some of the experience since Harry was forcing his head to stay still. The feel of his mammoth size split his lips wide and made his jaw sore. The real intensity was in how Harry was taking him. God, he didn’t even fucking ask. Didn’t even fucking kiss him properly. He just licked him like an indecent animal, pushed him to his knees and started fucking his mouth. He was so overcome, so turned on, he was going to come, probably before Harry. There was just something maddening how things went from tripping down the school hall to on his knees sucking huge, invisible cock.
Draco’s brow furrowed, a groan stuck in his throat when he realized Harry was already there. His cock swelled in his mouth and the underside of his thick shaft pulsed on his tongue. He gasped when Harry suddenly pulled out, and quickly shut his eyes to keep from being blinded. He moaned as hot streams of cum hit his face, cheeks, nose and forehead. Harry rubbed his dick all over him, obscenely smearing the fluid into his skin, slicking it around his face. Draco couldn’t stop his cries, his moans sounded again and again around Harry’s cock and sticky cum. He was moments from fainting, or cumming, or bending over and begging Harry to fuck him. God, if he didn’t die from lust first.
Draco was hauled up on unsteady feet. Harry pushed him back against the stone wall, crushed him with his body, and ground him in place. He licked up the side of Draco’s face, tasting his cum, cock, spit and sweat with one long swipe. Harry was saying something against his skin. Draco couldn’t hear but he had a feeling it was dirty and wrong and sexy as all fuck.
Oh, it was definitely fucking dirty. Harry’s free hand reached between then, he grabbed Draco’s straining cock and wrapped his fingers around his shaft. “Oh god, fuck. Fuck, not out here.” Draco moaned and his head fell back. “Not where anyone can… oh fuck.” Harry kissed him. His damn tongue choked his protests as the perverted fuck jerked him off. Draco’s clothing revealed nothing except how hard he was, his tented pants shifting with each stroke to his dick. Draco bucked, his body impossibly taut. He came against Harry’s hard, strong body which ground him back roughly against the wall.
“Fuck… holy fuck.” Draco couldn’t stop whimpering. His body was on fire, his hole ached, and somehow he was fucking hornier after his orgasm than before. “Stop, Potter. Oh fuck, come on… No more.” Draco groaned as the beast turned him and pushed him face up against the wall. He felt Harry kneel behind him. A cry spilled from his lips when he felt Harry’s tongue boldly lick up his ass crack. How he could know he was aching there… Draco groaned and rocked back. Fuck, was he aching there because Harry wanted him to be?
He’d believe anything at this point. It was so easy to believe his body was nothing more than a puppet to the beastly Potter. There was no soft touch this time, no suspenseful tease and then sudden absence. Harry grabbed his hips hard and drove his hot tongue into his tight hole while Draco bit his hand to keep from shouting. Harry tongued him wildly, pushed at the sides of his hole, teased and thrust, pushed and sucked until Draco didn’t know who he was anymore. Harry didn’t stop until he was satisfied with his new width and deep taste. Draco was left quivering, gasping, a whimpering creature of want and need sobbing on the wall where anyone could happen to walk by and see.
Harry finally relented. He stood and grabbed Draco by the chin. Draco moaned as his face was turned and Harry shoved two fingers into his mouth. He slicked them wet, Draco able to see where his saliva dripped down. Draco watched, eyelids heavy, when the fingers moved behind him. He turned his upper body to watch, Harry’s breath hot on his neck. A wet stain appeared on Draco’s trousers where Harry’s fingers passed right through and the material collected the spit. Harry probed between his cheeks and slid fingers deep into his hole.
Draco shouted and bucked forward from the feel of Harry plunging roughly into him. He was pushed forward by the force, his head knocking against the wall. Harry licked up his throat in long frantic swipe. He bit, Draco yelping as sharp teeth sank into his neck. Draco was lost, his moans growing with every thrust of Harry’s fingers. He spread his legs wider, clutching the wall as he pushed back against Harry’s solid form. He knew what was coming next and needed it so bad. Harry’s fingers withdrew from his sore hole, leaving him unbearably empty. Draco exhaled unsteadily. It was okay. Now there was room for Harry’s huge dick to fuck him and take him just like he needed.
Harry’s strong hand once again gripped his neck. Draco gasped as the world spun. His sneakers scuffed the floor as Harry dragged him down the hall toward his room. The door opened in front of him and Draco was pushed forward. Harry’s presence remained on the other side of the door when it slammed shut behind him. Draco fell to the ground.
When the room finally stopped spinning, Draco wrenched at his pants, tore his fly open and pulled the material off his heated skin. He kicked his underwear off. He pushed up to his shaking hands and knees. Sweat dripped down his face he barely felt as he lined two of his fingers behind him. His lashes fluttered shut as he plunged in and began to desperately fuck his hole.
“Fucking… Fucking need you, Harry. My god… I need you to finish what you started.” He was completely overcome. Tears and sweat streamed down his face to mix with the cum Harry left there. Draco begged between his moans while he roughly rode his fingers. “Fuck me, Potter. Come on… Fuck. What a fucking dick. Put it in me… and fuck me.”
Draco grunted hoarsely and his eyes rolled back when he came. His dick streamed cum on his floor. The feel of his fingers inside his tight channel was all he needed, he was that far gone.
His orgasm left him spinning and before he realized it, he was breaking down. He wasn’t even sure why he was breaking down, just he was so full of impossible need. He was absolutely aching, every inch of him needed Harry, and he couldn’t find any relief. He knew it wouldn’t relent until he went to him. He needed Harry to fuck him. He need to go to him, spread, and be fucked or this ache would never fucking stop.
With that thought in his mind, he wiped the cooling seed from his face, unseen but easily felt. Back on his knees, Draco thrust Harry’s cum into his hole. He pushed it in deep even as he moaned with just how lost and depraved he was to be doing something so messed up. He needed it too much and couldn’t stop. He ran fingers hastily over his face to collect any fluid he may have missed, and shoved his fingers in deep again.
Four days ago he’d never even touched his ass and was still confused on just how much he might really like guys. Now? Fuck, now he was forcing cum up there just to coll the insane ache inside begging to be filled with cock. He was so fucked.
Draco collapsed on the floor, panting, two fingers twisted deep inside his passage. He gasped for air and tried to calm his burning body and racing mind. He could see his other hand where the ring was still in place, determined to remind him he wasn’t a beast. No, he was just a really fucked up guy in absolute, unbearably need. A need which was slowly calming as Harry’s scented faded.
Harry’s cum all over his face hadn’t helped the madness. Now he wasn’t breathing it in so thickly, Draco started to come back to himself. Understanding dawned and he untangled his shaking body and pushed to his feet. He stumbled to the shower in the hopes if he washed the scent away, the ache would stop.
It was working. Slowly, so fucking slowly, Draco stopped throbbing for sex as whatever chemicals Harry produced to drive him wild were washed down the drain.
Fuck. Fuck, except the cum still inside him.
Draco swallowed hard. He leaned against the shower tile, spread his legs wide, and ran wet fingers around his sore hole. He massaged in and slid soap slick fingers in and out to clean Harry’s cum out. It felt so good with the soap to make things move much easier. They got deeper like this with no resistance.
He wasn’t cleaning himself anymore, Draco realized after tight, sweaty minutes of his slick fingers slapping in his aching hole. He was definitely fucking himself again. With a moan, he added a third digit slick with soap. He loved how it stung when he twisted the mess of fingers, the way he stretched to take it. They didn’t reach far but they were thick and he needed thick so bad right now.
Fuck, even without the scent. Fuck… fuck…
Draco squeezed his eyes shut, his body tense, channel clenched tight around his fingers moments before he came all over the slippery tile. He looked down at his pearly cum dripping down the wall as he gasped for air. It wasn’t normal. Three fucking orgasms within half an hour wasn’t right.
“Fuck, Harry. What have you done to me?”
Harry needed to leave. There was no other option besides staying and taking what he wanted from Draco. Once Harry threw Draco in his room, he started walking and kept going. He jumped out the nearest window, stepped out into the night and walked away from the castle.
While he walked, he yelled. He roared first into the hallways and then to the night sky. “I was fine—fucking fine! I sat hours in that hallway, fucking fine! My god, what the fuck is wrong with me! How does he fuck me up like this!”
One look was all it took. Draco had stepped out Snape’s door, his eyes fixed on the floor, fingers gripped lightly to the door handle as he pulled it shut. Harry watched, unable to look away, even with Draco’s glow dim and his beast confined by the ring. Moments later Draco looked up, straight ahead, his silver eyes fixed right where Harry was resting across the door. Draco’s expression was open and completely unguarded for one short, frozen moment.
It was the look of prey. Just feet away and completely blind to the peril before him, Draco slipped out the door like he didn’t know he was waiting for him. Something hot shuddered through Harry, dangerous. It flared when Draco stumbled and struggled to walk, and had to lean against the wall just to move. Weak prey so easy to chase. So oblivious…
Harry found himself stalking forward. He followed and watched while Draco wavered down corridors. He pressed into Draco’s space just so he could know he was there, sense him, fear like he was supposed to. But Draco wasn’t afraid. He tried to be reassuring like it was concern to bring Harry behind him inching closer, breathe deep of his scent and wait for him to slip.
With just one hand to pin him, Draco finally—finally—understood what strength was before him. His felt Draco’s heart race, the way sweat dripped down his chin, his crystal eyes so wide. Harry drank it in and was nearly lost. His pretty, pale Draco was so eager, so wanton and easy. All Harry had to do was take him, have him and nothing would ever come between them again. Not Narcissa and fiancees, not meddling professors and specialists. Not even jewelry or barrier magic or fucking doors or clothes. Nothing would keep Draco from him after that.
Except, when he bit Draco in his initial quest to taste the blood of his very soon to be mate the flavor was wrong. Draco’s blood was bland, nearly unappetizing, and hardly tasted like him. It was the ring. He remembered Draco’s blood tasted perfectly delicious just the other day when he tasted off his arm.
Harry’s confusion by the lack of connection was enough to pull him from his haze, and let him hide Draco away.
“Fuck, will it matter? I could just go back. Take the fucking ring off of him. It’s not like he’d fight me… Stop. Stop thinking like that! Bad. That’s fucking bad, shit thoughts!”
Harry crouched and touched the soft ground with nothing to slam his fists into. “Not a toy. He is not a toy. He’s a fucking full human being with god damn thoughts and emotions and the right to choose things. I need to stop this fucking thing inside of me who doesn’t care.”
His power bubbled up and roared around him as it frothed in wrathful waves. Harry looked up and watched the bright, dark energy lick the air, jolting with his anger and need. That was the problem, wasn’t it? All those god damn perfectly good reasons for not touching Draco Malfoy did not take into consideration the one intense, undeniable, aching need he had to touch him.
He needed Draco.
Harry took a deep breath and then another, and slowly his body began to relax. Somehow naming it calmed the rage inside. Not the need—that still burned like an inferno—but he didn’t have to rage against himself and the world over it. As long as he could identify and accept he needed Draco and not act on it, perhaps he could continue on. He was already existing without so many things he once thought he needed; air, food, water, sleep, conversation, affection. Hell, some things he’d gone without for much longer than people were meant to, such as love from a family and parents, security from deranged murderous wizards, companionship with someone who truly understood him.
Touch. How long truly had he gone without touching another human being? There were the rare quick embrace from Hermione or a Weasley spaced far between. Before Hogwarts was just his parents. No Dursley had a touch for him besides a punishing one. He survived without these things.
Touching Draco was the only life spark he ever felt and his body kept seeking it out. Even when his mind fought to keep some sort of propriety. He knew he could still survive even without fulfilling this new need.
As if his body was in disagreement, power sparked painfully through Harry’s chest. It was so intense, it was like being stabbed. He clutched his chest and gasped in pain. His eyes fell on movement in the trees up ahead at the edge of the forest.
It was glowing and white, like Draco. But it wasn’t him, not human at all. Sleek and sinewy, it looked like some sort of cross between a deer and a dragon. Its scaled body was dotted with feathers, legs elegant but not as long as an actual deer. The ends were tipped with claws instead of hooves. It was almost dog-like but not quite that either, its body longer. It had a serpentine tail and feathered head. When it noticed Harry staring back, it revealed sharp, deadly teeth and growled menacingly.
Something in him bristled up and Harry growled back. The sound was low, angry and spoke of how much fucking bigger and meaner he was. At the noise, the creature backed away and disappeared into the forest.
It had to be what Malfoy spoke of. Creatures who lived in the Forbidden Forest only he could sense but couldn’t see. Dangerous creatures who could hurt Harry while in his condition and could hurt Draco anytime they pleased. Draco would be blind to them until they were right upon him.
He stared out into the dark for the next hour and waited to see if the thing would return. It didn’t. Harry couldn’t leave, not with creatures like that around as a possible threat to Draco. He would have to find a way to control himself. If not, he’d avoid Draco completely. Maybe… maybe the barrier was the right thing after all.
Harry turned back to the castle and walked slowly and with intent. Was he so weak he couldn’t protect Draco from himself? He was staying to protect him from potential threats when Harry was certainly the most dangerous thing with access to Draco. He would have to figure out something, a resistance to the need. Things couldn’t continue like this.
Draco was nearly asleep as he waited for Harry. He sat sideways in the open doorway of his room, his quill and parchment spilled out on the ground in the hallway. Sleep called but was elusive. His body was still a goddamn mess of want and his brain was quickly spiraling toward mad.
Harry remained sitting across the hall from Draco. He hadn’t moved since Draco stood in his doorway hours too early for breakfast in rumpled school clothes and with hair in disarray. He found if he stared at his bare feet peeking out from the bottom of his jeans, and tapped them on the stone floor to remind him to pay attention, he wasn’t overwhelmed by the urge to run across the hall and molest Malfoy. It was more a need to take a leisurely walk before fucking him senseless. It seemed some sort of improvement after all these hours.
“Damn it, Potter. Fucking talk to me,” Draco growled wearily. He’d been sitting there a good twenty minutes now. As much as Harry pretended not to be there, Draco could tell how his invisible aura was much stronger than before. Harry’s power flickered and disturbed the magic in the area.
“What, exactly, am I supposed to say to you, Malfoy?” Harry growled right back even though Draco couldn’t hear him. “I’m sorry? I don’t even fucking know if I’m sorry. And if I am sorry, I’m not sure for which part. Is it what I couldn’t seem to stop, or what I didn’t get to fucking finish.”
“I need your goddamn help. Please, just fucking try. Please.” Draco sighed dejectedly, his head lowered to meet his hands. “Just talk to me.”
“I can’t, you stupid prat!” Harry yelled in frustration. “I can’t fucking touch you. Didn’t you used to be smart? I’m pretty sure Hermione said you were competing with her for top scores last year. How are you so fucking dumb?”
Somehow, Harry’s one sided argument was only pissing Draco off more. “I know you’re there, you pain in the ass. I can feel your fucking power. Potter, get over here. I’m not afraid of you, so get the fuck over here!”
Harry moved from his sitting position into a crouch. He kept his eyes on the ground, determined to look anywhere but at Draco. “You ever think I might be afraid, you idiot? There is something fucked in my head right not. You fuck me up, Malfoy. Shit… it’s really good. Really fucking good.” He carefully raised his gaze when Draco huffed loudly.
“I can wait just as long as you can. Where the fuck are you going to go, Potter? Who the fuck are you going to talk to? Just… Just come over here, okay? Take my hand and stop being a child about all this.” Draco held his hand out in Harry’s direction. His gray eyes peeked out at the seemingly empty corridor. “Come on,” he called softly and wiggled his fingers in invitation.
It was the damn stupidest thing ever for the situation, but Harry couldn’t help and slowly sidle over to Draco. He reached his hand out and carefully brushed his fingers to the pale, outstretched ones before him. Draco felt the soft touch. He suddenly wrapped his hand around Harry’s and pulled sharply. Harry’s eyes went wide and he swore loudly when he lost his balance and crashed into Draco’s prone form. “Fuck! Malfoy!”
“Caught you, you stupid ass.” Draco used his free hand to figure out the tangle of invisible limbs before him. He found a messy pile of hair, released Harry’s hand and pulled him up by his head. “Do I strike you as the forgiving type, Potter?” He asked silkily while wrenching Harry’s thick locks hard.
“You’re out of your fucking mind. Shit!” Harry gasped when Draco pulled his harder. If he was trying to hurt him, he was fucking failing. Harry was pretty sure he never experienced anything quite so amazing as Draco hissing in his ear while he twisted fistfuls of his hair.
“Do you even understand how you left me? I went through hours of torment just because you ran away.” Draco found Harry’s mouth, his warm breath puffing over his face. “It was fucking rude of you. Do you understand, Potter. I do the teasing in this relationship, not you.” Draco closed his eyes and moved to the source of Harry’s gasping breaths and kissed him soundly.
Certain Draco had lost his mind, Harry kissed him back. He groaned when Draco insisted on wrenching his hair whenever he put too much force into the kiss.
“I needed you, you ass. Fucking needed you,” Draco whispered between hot kisses. He held Harry in place the best he could when Harry grabbed him by the waist and pulled him closer. “The ache… Harry, it’s going to kill me. Even now…”
“Sorry. Really sorry, Draco.” Harry was full of need for him but he hadn’t expected Draco to need him back just as much. The idea made him hot, fire roaring inside of him. Hell, maybe Draco even more than needed him. He was shaking so much just from his touch. “Fuck… fuck, tell me you feel it too,” Harry demanded against his lips. He pulled from the kiss so he could lick and bite down Draco’s neck. “Need you to fucking need me…”
Draco moaned as Harry’s mouth moved over his skin. He twisted Harry’s hair again and pulled his face back up. “Keep your hands above my waist and that fucking tongue off of me, you perv,” Draco insisted heatedly. He kissed Harry again, deep and hungrily. Draco was either very compelling, or Harry really liked it when the annoying prat told him to do things. Harry obeyed and moved his hands up from where he was squeezing Draco’s firm ass, and refrained from licking him in all the lubricious ways he really wanted to.
When Draco was satisfied he was behaving enough, he released Harry’s hair. He leaned back on the ground and grabbed quill and paper. With his feet, he pushed into his bedroom, hampered slightly when Harry crawled up his body and continued to kiss him. “Slowly. Gotta talk to you.”
“Later,” Harry grumbled. He bit at Draco’s bottom lip; his teeth clamped and then released while Draco whimpered.
Draco refused to be deterred. He grabbed Harry by the hair and pulled hard until he stilled his movements. “I fire called Jaz. He said you’re confused. Out of control, like me.” Draco kicked at the door to his room and managed to shut it once Harry moved his legs out of the way. “Said… said I could fix it.”
Harry closed his eyes and thought of all the many ways Draco could fix the ache burning through him. It made him burn hotter, the need pulse ever stronger. Harry slid a hand down Draco’s thigh. He massaged the tense muscle and dragged fingers up.
Draco growled and grabbed the straying hand and placed it back at his waist. “Focus, Potter. I need to tell you what I want. And then you… you need to give it to me.” Draco smiled wickedly. His head fell back on the floor and he peered up through heavy lidded eyes and loose strands of hair.
He licked his lips, his gaze focused on where he could feel Harry’s breath puff against his shoulder. “As long as I don’t ask for, god, for that fucking delicious thing you were doing to me in the hallway—which is why your tongue really needs to stay in your mouth,” Draco said shakily. “As long as we keep tame, but with you still fulfilling my needs, Jaz thinks it will satisfy the mating drive.”
Harry grasped Draco’s hand and pulled it to the discarded quill. Once Draco picked it up, Harry scrawled out just how flawed the plan was.
I already know what you want. What you need.
Draco raised himself up onto his arm to read. “Fuck, I’m pretty sure you’re an arrogant sod who doesn’t know shit. So you better start listening to what I say,” he said sternly. “Right now I want you to kiss me and keep your hands at a fucking respectable level. Got it?”
Harry stared at Draco’s flashing silver eyes and swollen pink lips. He slipped his vision into the fifth dimension so he could see the pretty feather and shiny scales on Draco’s bare flesh. He loved the variations of hues on his bright skin, glowing and otherworldly. He really wanted to kiss him. If he could prove just how good a kiss could be, he might convince Draco to stay with him. Hell, he might convince him he wanted so much more.
Yeah, he could do that. He’d kiss Draco until he begged for more.
Draco felt the shit almost immediately when the ache in his body changed to reflect Harry’s intent. Jaz called Harry a master when it came to the mating call. He was able to manipulate his chosen into just about anything by amplifying the ache associate with mating. During courting, the aggressor would look for challenges and respond to what he perceived his mate’s needs were to make sure he fed them properly. Since Harry had caught him in the shower, he must have become fixated on just how much Draco would enjoy anal sex. To remain intact, Draco needed to get Harry to focus on something else.
At the moment Draco no longer felt the unbearable ache to be filled by Harry. Instead now he just felt an impossible need to be kissed by him. It was still overwhelming but at least it could be remedied much easier and didn’t involve him bending and begging for Harry to fuck him.
“Come on, Potter. Fucking kiss me… fuck, please. Get over here.” Draco closed his eyes a moment. Well, he wasn’t bending at least; begging seemed just a little beyond his control at the moment. He pulled Harry’s hair and growled when Harry insisted on hovering. His hot breath was lined with Draco’s mouth but he refused to descend and cross the distance. “Oh, you just love to draw this out, don’t you?” Draco murmured and tilted his head invitingly. “What happens when you give me what I want?”
“Then I fucking own you.” Harry ran fingers through his hair and gently twisted the silky strands. He flicked his tongue out and lapped over Draco’s lips. Draco moaned and tried to get closer, but Harry held him still. “I already do, Malfoy. You’re mine. You just need to figure it out still.”
“Come on,” Draco whispered. His breath caught when Harry slowly pressed his lips to his. He opened readily, his lips parting to Harry’s questing tongue which me met with his own. A shudder took Draco’s entire body and he fell back flat on the floor. Harry kissed him deeply, slowly, his lips sliding hot over his. Draco’s head felt too heavy to lift. “Stop,” he moaned. He arched, his body grinding against Harry’s. His hard flesh felt too hot to touch everywhere they met.
Harry kissed his cheek and let Draco breathe and pant, and make all the desperate noises he liked. “I can make you come like this, beautiful. I can make you scream like this, beg like this. All I have to do is ask and you’ll give me that stupid fucking ring and be mine.” His mouth plundered Draco’s again, swallowing down his gasps. Draco whimpered hungrily. His fingers grasped at the back of Harry’s neck and pulled him closer.
Harry slid his hands down Draco’s sides. He reached down his long legs and pulled them up so he was settled between his raised knees where scales were even larger on Draco’s bright skin. “You want me. You want to be mine, Draco. Even before when I didn’t have enough sense to tell, you were begging for me. You lured me in with your fucked up, erratic behavior and then cut me to pieces with that cruel tongue of yours.” He licked up Draco’s chin, then plunged into his moaning mouth to taste him thoroughly.
“Harry… I think. Oh, fuck. I’m gonna…” Draco shuddered and his hips bucked up against Harry’s body. Harry continued to lick and suck his swollen lips while Draco rocked against him and rode out his orgasm.
Draco moaned weakly with his eyes squeezed shut as he realized what happened. Just a kiss. A kiss had got him off. “Oh, fuck.”
“Fucking told you, you bloody tease,” Harry rasped out. He bit Draco’s lower lip and held it between his teeth. Draco jerked and groaned as teeth broke his skin blood filled their senses.
“Yes… fuck, I could have you right now and you wouldn’t fight me.” To prove his point, Harry grabbed Draco by the thighs and spread his legs wider so he could press his throbbing erection against his entrance. Draco cried out, his fingers digging into Harry’s shoulders. “You lured me over here just to do it to you, Malfoy. You held your hand out so I’d come back and fuck you. All you have to do is admit it, beautiful.”
“Oh god… oh fuck… Get your hands above my waist, you fucking opportunistic pervert,” Draco growled out. His protests were lost with the way he rocked his hips down and rubbed against the searing flesh pressed against his hole.
Harry chuckled. With one hand he grasped Draco’s narrow waist, and with the other, twisted his nipple. He rocked his hips forward with a groan. His lips sealed to Draco’s and muffled the rude swears being cursed at him.
“Potter, you sick fuck… stop,” Draco growled. His eyes closed when Harry rubbed his cock against him, this time with enough force his entrance yielded ever so slightly to the pressure. “Oh fuck, that’s good. So fucking good… I’m going to fucking kill you,” he mumbled heatedly.
“You want it, you gorgeous prat.” He bit Draco’s ear, then licked to the soft flesh right below. His thumb rubbed over Draco’s other nipple he was twisting a fetching shade of red. “Beg me, and I might stop. Fuck, beg me and I’ll fuck you so hard, Draco. I’ll give you everything your body needs.” He bit Draco’s bottom lip again and licked the blood beading there.
Draco’s entire body was trembling with want. He reached up and grabbed two fistfuls of Harry’s hair. With a twist, he pulled himself up and pushed Harry down so he wasn’t moments from being fucked senseless. “You will fucking kiss me and that’s it. If you don’t fucking listen to me, you don’t get to fucking kiss me!”
Draco lost his train of thought with a moan when Harry’s mouth pressed to his tender nipple. His hot tongue flicked out, tickling and tormenting all at once. “Damn it.” Draco shook himself and tightened his hold on Harry’s hair. He twisted until Harry’s mouth stopped its torture. “Listen and fucking do as I say!”
Harry moaned shakily. Something about Draco being so forceful and commanding made him dizzy. “Alright, you fucking pain in the ass. Fine. Kiss, fine.”
Draco sighed in relief when Harry kissed him once again and soothed the fiery ache that built whenever he wasn’t being kissed. Between the long, delicious wrestling of tongues and nibbling of lips, Draco tugged and Harry’s hair and demanded softly until Harry found some sort of control in his mating call. Eventually, he was able to extinguish the madness burning between them.
“Oh, thank god,” Draco panted as the intense ache finally left him. He grabbed Harry more forcefully and pushed his larger form off of him. He grabbed the quill, which was now bent and leaking black ink on the ground, and the crumpled piece of parchment. “How do you feel? Better? Saner?” Draco pulled at Harry’s hand until he responded.
Yes. I still want to fuck you, but just in a normal way. Not a deranged, dying if I don’t way.
Draco nodded and pushed his blond hair from his face. “Alright… okay. We can make this work, Harry. All I have to do…”
Harry interrupted him by gripping Draco’s hand tight as he wrote. No, we can’t. The beast is too powerful and I can’t depend on you to stop it. And I can’t seem to stop myself.
“Fuck you,” Draco snapped. “Get some fucking self control and stop making shit difficult.”
I’m trying but it’s too hard. I need to stay away from you.
“What, and take away the one fucking amazing thing in my life right now? Fuck you, Harry. No! It’s just fucking sex and there’s no reason to go running for the hills every time you want me.”
It is not just sex, you gorgeous idiot. It is me making you mine. Stealing that stupid ring, fucking you, biting you and keeping you. Harry stopped and glared at Draco while he read. Fuck. And stop moaning like that. This is not going to work. I can’t keep holding back.
Draco’s eyes were hazy and his lips parted to pant. He didn’t answer right away. “But I miss you. All day today. Yesterday when you practically ignored me. And now, now you’re not even in the same room but hiding outside the door.”
Harry pressed his palm to the side of Draco’s glowing face. Draco leaned in and let his eyes close. He kissed him softly, then pulled back to write. It will only feel worse when I die.
Draco scowled, his eyebrows furrowed in sorrow. “You fucking ass, you’re not going to die. We’re going to figure this out.”
It’s getting worse. My heart stopped earlier. I can’t have you just to leave you. I won’t do that to you. The best I can do is avoid spending
“No!” Draco hissed. He smacked his free hand over the quill and ink sprayed everywhere. He pulled his hand from Harry’s grasp and with clear intent, pulled the silver dragon ring off his finger. “I don’t fucking care if you’ve given up. I haven’t. I fucking refuse. It was months of you being lost and suddenly you find me when you need the most help. I’m not fucking playing, Harry. I’m going to right you and get you back, no matter what.”
Harry licked his lips and watched Draco’s eyes flash in a familiar, enticing way. “You’re being irrational, you stupid prat. Fucking crazy and throwing your life away for someone already dead.”
“I know how this works now.” Draco eyes were downcast as he stared at the ring. “All I have to do is tell you what I want. Pull your hair or pinch your side. It just takes a little pain mixed with a command. You won’t be able to stop yourself.”
“You’re fucking out of your mind.” Harry groaned and got to his knees to escape the crazy idiot. “I’m dying. You can’t fucking compel me to live. All mating will do is fucking hurt you when I die.”
“Get over here, Potter.” Draco held his hand out. “It’ll be quick. Fuck, it’ll be good, too.”
Harry glowered. It was a threat, even if Draco didn’t understand. He wouldn’t do something that would hurt him in the long run. Harry’s power rose up. “I won’t do it, Malfoy. You can’t make me; I’m not that weak yet.” His magical aura flooded the room, whipped papers around and Draco’s hair into his face. Harry surged forward and grabbed the magic imbued ring and placed it on Draco’s finger. He kissed him once, and lingered, staring into the sadness Draco did nothing to hide.
It would hurt more if he stayed. He knew it. They both knew it.
Harry whirled. He used his power to open the door and refused to look back when he shut it behind him. This was the only way.
Draco stared at the closed door. A numbness settled over him without Harry’s hot presence to keep him feeling alive. “Fuck.”
It was clearly the wrong move given Potter was once again running. “Damn it.” Draco sighed heavily and buried his head into his hands. He just kept fucking it up.
Without the damn insufferable mating ache, he found something underneath, something empty and yawning inside of Draco beyond anything he ever felt. It was a hidden pain no longer hidden, now exposed and raw and fucking terrible as he bled inside.
Was it hope? Was it what was left of those flashes of potential growing inside when he heard Voldemort died trying to kill Harry? Was it that fucking pathetic, childish dream of when he came back to school Harry would be there with nothing left to separate them, now torn to shreds after months of him being dead? God, he was such an idiot.
Draco groaned and curled up on the floor. He stared blindly at the pattern of stone blocks as he waited for the hour to tick by when it would be time to go to breakfast and class. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He didn’t want to marry Serene, raise a family of monsters and once again be surrounded by people and still be so fucking alone. He wanted Harry. He wanted to fight and kiss, and maybe one day fuck as long as he felt so amazingly alive with the one he missed.
This feeling now, without Harry, was certainly more dead than the morning Draco woke many months ago. He was determined that day, full of anger and pride for a life still his. But Lucius caught him. Draco was nude, blade in hand, blood already flowing scarlet across his skin and to the floor.
There was understanding in his father’s eyes with his anger and Draco wondered now if he knew because of the beast chained inside. Lucius didn’t try to convince him to take the dark mark. He offered a solution to keep him alive. Draco still didn’t fully know why he took it, except… except he failed. So many months of planning and he failed in his one chance to own his life. And maybe being reborn as some family puppet wouldn’t be so terrible, as long as he wasn’t Voldemort’s puppet.
“What can you do if you’re dead?” Lucius asked when he twisted the blade out of Draco’s hand. He grabbed his arm and pulled him up to stand. Draco bled out around the healing spells struggling to keep up with his spraying wounds.
In that moment, Draco was certain the answer was ‘live.’ Now it was clear all he could have done once dead. He just wasn’t alive anymore. It was backwards and crazy, but Draco knew being dead would be more alive than how he spent the last of his life since after that moment when he sliced his arteries with determined precision.
Draco got up shakily and stared at the ring once again on his finger. If Harry was so afraid of him becoming a beast, then he would have to leave it on. Harry might never touch him again otherwise.
He went to the bathroom to clean himself off. He tried not to look like he stayed up all night unbearably horny wondering if he was going to die without relief. For those moments he felt alive, when he feared he was going to die. Draco got his school things together, then cleaned up the mess of ink and threw out the parchment on the floor.
He stopped at the door, leaned his head against the wood and breathed deeply. He made a fist, stepped back and punched the door as hard as he could. Draco grimaced from the pain, his knuckles bleeding and sore. He took another deep breath. When he punched the door again, a laugh exploded out with his gasp of pain.
Better. It was better.
Jaz had two new instruments waiting for them when Draco and Harry returned a week later. The potion master was off doing other things. Harry begrudgingly came into Snape’s office while warily watching Draco the entire time. Draco was quiet in a way that unsettled him. He wasn’t sure if Draco was plotting, or if he gave up. Neither option was gratifying. Harry wavered many a time as he followed Draco around and watched while trying to understand.
Something was changed in Draco. It was an odd stillness that quieted every level of him until Harry wondered if Draco wasn’t the one out of phase with the world. Blaise had nearly broken down on seeing him the first morning in the Great Hall. Pansy, normally restrained, started swearing up a storm. They both haunted Draco along with Harry now and followed him class to class. They tried to get him to talk late into the night with games or whatnot; Harry never saw what they did. He refused to stay in the same room as Draco as much as possible.
Draco being fucked up did nothing to stop the fire inside Harry and that was probably the worst of it all. He wanted Draco even when he was broken. Harry didn’t know if coming back to reality was the answer no it was clear he was completely deranged and would fuck the walking dead just so long as they looked and smelled as good as Malfoy did. Draco seemed dead, his eyes empty, muscles loose with body refusing to eat.
“Mr. Potter, let’s start with the pen.” Jaz picked up a muggle style ballpoint pen and held it out to where Harry was standing. Draco was between them. Harry chose to walk around the edge of the room and come around the other side of Jaz to pluck the pen from his clawed fingers.
It felt like a regular pen, solid to his hand and lacking all the blushes and quick breaths he grew to love from his favorite quill. “Alright, a pen. And now you can know where I am.” Harry watched Draco’s eyes slide away from where the pen was floating in mid air to his perspective.
“And the second instrument. This one still needs a little tweaking.” Jaz pulled out a pair of gold rimmed round glasses. “With the help of Mr. Malfoy’s ring and his blood, I’ve determined where you are. Hopefully. The glasses are keyed to the potential dimension and now it’s just up to us to see if you’re there.” Jaz took off his own dark frames, his face oddly predatory without the rectangles to obscure his sharp, cat-like eyes. He slipped on the new glasses and hummed as he turned in Harry’s direction.
Jaz’s expression stilled and grew serious. He snapped his fingers and his notebook flew into his hands. He quickly turned through the pages and sometimes scribbled in the margins all while he kept glancing up at Harry. “You’re in a lot of trouble here, Mr. Potter. I assumed you were just ungrounded but seeing you now, it’s clear this situation has occurred from your battle with the Dark Lord. You’re wounded and unraveling. The results of the attack are slowed by the nature of being outside of the normal flow of time. You are reaching the end of your life and there isn’t much time left.”
Harry wanted to be surprised but he wasn’t. The sparks had increased in intensity and frequency until he felt more a walking electric socket than anything else. He moved to Snape’s desk, clicked the pen and wrote out his questions on a waiting piece of blank paper.
Will you bury me, even if you can’t bring me back?
“I’ll do it,” Draco whispered. They were his first words to Harry since they argued days ago.
Thank you. There really didn’t seem much else to say about it. Harry walked back to the wall to put as much space as he could between him and Draco’s scent.
“Mr. Potter, normally in a situation like this I would find the dimension, key a portal in and physically reach in and get you. But that spell will take too long,” Jaz said evenly. He turned to follow as Harry leaned on the wall. “I’m going to speak with Dumbledore about lending the phoenix to help. If the beast is willing, we can bond the two of you and it should be enough to tip you into reality once again. Once here, you’re wounds will be extensive and require immediate healing. I cannot guarantee you will survive.”
Harry shrugged and waved his hand in an assenting manner just to end the conversation. Jaz didn’t take offense. He switched his glasses and left the new frames on the desk. “I’ll be back shortly. We’ll know soon if we have a working plan or not.” Jaz left with long strides that revealed the urgency his tone of voice refused to show.
Harry watched, his dread building as Draco inched fingers toward the discarded glasses on the desk. The idiot just fucking loved to punish himself. Harry regretted it all; when he touched Draco’s hand in the Great Hall, followed him, kissed him, wanted him. Made Draco want him back. Whatever happened to him, Draco shouldn’t have to see it.
Draco slipped the glasses on and settled them on his face before he slowly turned to where Harry was standing. He inhaled sharply as his eyes widened. “Shit, Harry. You’re not black, you’re fucking burned.” He stepped closer and ignored how Harry flinched away. “The glowing light is your normal color.” He reached a hand up and probed the top of Harry’s head where his hair was tousled. “You had some sort of horns once but they’ve snapped off. And your energy keeps fluctuating like mini explosions.”
Harry turned his face away, unable to meet the intensity of Draco’s stare. Draco pulled him back. He wrenched Harry’s hair and glared up at him challengingly. “They’re the same… the same damn green.”
“Just take the fucking things off and go away, Malfoy,” Harry growled. He put his hand on Draco’s shoulder to keep him from moving closer. “I’m dead. Burned, like you said. What the fuck is the point of doing this to yourself?”
Draco’s eyes strayed to where Harry’s lips moved like he was trying to read them. Moment later, he pulled Harry down and kissed him hard, desperate. He held him by the hair when Harry tried to pull away.
“Idiot. Malfoy!” Harry grabbed both of Draco’s shoulders and pushed him away to arms length.
“What? Am I supposed to bury you now, Potter?” Draco scowled, his cheeks flushed. “Now that I can fucking see you, and know where the fuck you are, and what it looks like when you look at me? Why the fuck should I?”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Because I’m a goddamn dying monster on this plane, apparently. I don’t want you to see me like this.”
Draco ignored him, not able to understand what Harry was saying anyways. “You’re likely dead. Fine. I’m getting married. Fine. Do you need to hurt me more by pulling away as well?”
“You ass, it’s to keep you from hurting more!” Harry was frustrated and consumed with the need to kiss Draco again. Instead he pulled from his hands and crossed to Snape’s desk so there would be a barrier between them. He used his new pen to write out his thoughts while Draco glared.
It hurts. Seeing you hurting, hurts me.
Draco huffed. He crossed his arms over his chest and bowed his head. “Who the fuck cares? You’re dead anyways. Suck it up and hurt. It’s going to be worse for me anyways and you don’t hear me bitching about it.
Harry shook his head in exasperation. You’re out of your fucking mind. Rational people don’t think like that.
“So?” Draco scoffed. “Who the fuck are you to judge? You’ve never been rational a fucking day in your life. You’re walking around in a lost dimension for months, hanging on to life while half dead and you want to judge me for being irrational?” Draco slammed his hands down on the desk and glared into the wild green eyes he missed so much. “Com on, you hotheaded, Gryffindor imbecile. Where the hell did your love for doing the impossible go? Be impossible with me.”
Harry swallowed hard, lost in the glaring silver eyes behind round glasses. He slowly reached across and touched the side of Draco’s face. Draco’s gaze stayed on him instead of straying like he used to. He was fucking beautiful.
They were interrupted by the door opening. Dumbledore, Severus and Jaz stepped in. Fawkes was on Dumbledore’s shoulder, the phoenix resting with ease while while Dumbledore stood next to Draco. Draco flinched when Severus walked right through Harry to sit at his desk but Harry didn’t seem effected by it at all.
“May I, Draco?” Dumbldore held his hand outstretched. With a sigh, Draco relinquished the glasses but only after a final glance at Harry. Dumbledore slipped the golden framed on. His expression grew grim and a frown deepened his normally cheerful expression. “Hello, Harry.”
Harry met the twinkle free gaze and nodded. Sir, he wrote out on the paper before him.
“Jaz has caught us up on your condition. Unfortunately, nothing can be done for you while you’re split between dimensions. I’ve asked Fawkes to help and he has agreed.” Dumbledore didn’t look happy about it and instead his frown grew. “Harry, whether it was right after the attack or now, how you appear once back will be the same. You will be injured. Possibly dead. There may be little we can do to help you. We might be killing Fawkes by making the attempt.”
Then it’s not worth it. I don’t want anyone else to die.
“Bullshit!” Draco snarled, uncaring to the fact he was swearing in front of his professors. “The bird wants to do it. They come back to life, anyways. At least try!”
“I have to agree with Malfoy, Potter,” Severus spoke up, his long fingers arched on his desk. “You’ve given up enough. Let us at least attempt to help you.”
Harry met Albus’s ever watching gaze. He couldn’t remember ever seeing him this serious. What aren’t you telling me?
“We’ve figure out what you are. McVicar recognized you immediately even with the damage to your body.”
Is it bad?
“It is difficult,” Dumbledore answered tentatively as his fingers fell into his beard. “Creatures like you don’t exist, Harry. They can’t handle the modern world, and the world can’t handle them.”
“You’re a kalistar, Mr. Potter. It’s a demon with antlers and large wings. They’re aggressive, dangerous and down right murderous toward humans.” Jaz turned to Draco with a raised eyebrow. “That means you are most likely their kin, the vesper.”
Draco shook his head, his eyes narrowed. “He’s burnt, not black.”
“He’s damaged. The black pigment comes up with the excessive blood flow. They turn color when enraged, in love, in hot temperature and injured,” Jaz explained as he ignored the anger in Draco’s voice. “That it is patchy suggest it’s from damage more than anything else. Likely Voldemort knew what Harry was and made to attack him on his own plane to make sure he was destroyed. His wings are torn off, along with his horns. His body is a bruise of wounds and if the removal of his wings doesn’t drain him of all his blood, it has likely put him into shock.”
“They’ve died out. My father told me,” Draco insisted. He couldn’t seem to handle hearing about Harry’s condition and instead fixated on what he was supposed to be. “They were good, kind creatures who kept the others safe and in line.”
Dumbledore held his hand up while still looking at Harry. “All we know of the kalistar is they exist with the vesper, they are gone, and any time one has been sighted a human was torn to pieces. Sometimes many humans.”
Draco scoffed. “It’s fucking Potter! If they were so hateful, no human would have survived to mate with the damn things. If my father is a vesper then he would bloody well know more about it.”
“Your father is beyond communication.” Dumbledore finally turned his piercing gaze from Harry. He blinked and removed the glasses when Draco’s glowing form came into view. “Lucius has been separated from the rest and put into isolation. His transformation left him maddened and violent among humans. He’s already killed two of the other prisoners.”
Draco bit his lip and exhaled slowly from the news. “It doesn’t mean Harry is going to start killing people if you bring him back. You’re assuming because you don’t know enough about his kind. You’re going to let him die because you’re scared of what he is. I’m telling you, he’s not how you think.”
Jaz took the offered glasses from Dumbledore and exchanged them for his own. “Mr. Potter, you have been extremely aggressive concerning Mr. Malfoy.”
“You’re fucking shitting me,” Draco muttered and glared at Dumbledore. “You can’t compare the mating urge to…”
“Please, this is something I need to present to Harry,” Jaz said sternly. “Harry, your reaction to scent has been uncontrollable, wouldn’t you say? Have you smelled any humans since being in that realm?”
Harry slowly shook his head once he understood what Jaz was getting at. If I can’t control my reaction to Draco’s scent, who is to say I won’t go into a murderous rage around human scent. Right?
“That is our concern,” Dumbledore said tightly.
“Their concern,” Severus broke in. “I have no question you will be anything but yourself if you survive the return, Potter.”
Harry looked down at Snape’s bowed head in surprise. Severus was not one for defending him, seeing as they were hardly friends. Sighing, Harry reached past his potions professor to write.
It is your decision. The risk is all on your shoulders, from the other students to Fawkes. I will not ask you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.
“Damn it, stop being so fucking selfless!” Draco snarled and threw his hands up in exasperation. “He killed Voldemort—You all have no right to not even try!”
Draco, it’s more than that and you know it. Surviving doesn’t justify putting others in danger.
“Bloody bullshit. You didn’t just survive. You saved.”
It doesn’t matter.
Severus spoke up before Draco could start shouting. “As I have already told Albus and McVicar, I’m willing to create a space free of all scents for your potential return, Mr. Potter. We could even go so far as to eliminate your ability to smell altogether, if we find that you are as driven as they fear. I would need your consent, with you understanding if the madness does take you I will administer the potion against your will.”
Harry considered long minutes while he watched Draco twitch in irritation. A lifetime without smell. Would it effect his sense of his beast body when it came to Draco? Did it matter in the long run when he considered Dumbledore wouldn’t allow him to return if he refused? He saw it in his headmaster’s eye, the steel determination to ensure the students of Hogwarts were protected from monsters. One monster had been Tom Riddle. Today it was him.
I give you my consent.
“And if it doesn’t work?” Draco asked, already knowing the answer given his glower. “Are you going to let them kill you, Potter?”
Harry shrugged and met Jaz’s gaze. They have my consent for that as well. Although, if I am as they say, I likely will not make it easy for them.
“Thank you, Harry,” Dumbledore said and bowed his head. “I will leave Fawkes in the hands of these good gentlemen. We will do the best we can to return you safe and sound.”
Draco hissed and glared at everyone. “Right, until they bloody stab you in the back.”
Harry didn’t have anything to say. Draco would never understand and he didn’t really care. Draco was Draco, and he was Harry. Draco would have to accept his decision the same way he accepted when Draco decided to kill himself.
Dumbledore left quietly. Jaz and Snape started going over the spell that would be done and the preparation needed.
Harry would need to practice controlling his magic so that he could affect the normal realm. The last part of the spell would require his focus to reach to Fawkes since it was unlikely the phoenix would have enough power to connect to him alone. He had three days. Hopefully all the necessary preparations and instruments would be taken care of by then.
Draco waited for a bit while pacing agitatedly. Finally he gave a great sigh and sought out the pen Harry was using to get an idea of where he was. “Potter, you don’t need me for this anymore. I’m going back.”
“He says goodbye,” Jaz said. Draco shrugging unconcernedly as he left. Harry stared at the closed door and his frown grew.
“Potter, you’re a bloody idiot when it comes to that boy,” Severus drawled while he shook his head slowly. “He’s the only one really fighting for you. He’s asking for nothing in return except you stand up for yourself as well.”
Severus snorted. He held his hands out for the glasses Jaz was stubbornly wearing. Severus placed them on his nose and took a long look at Harry’s form. “You look like some wild, terrible beast, broken and scarred. Your back is an absolute mess, the skin torn to shreds. You do look burnt, every wound a damn ripple on the char black skin. But to see the way Draco looks at you, I thought you must be some damn Adonis hero.”
Severus stood and folded his arms over his chest. He looked oddly owl like in the round glasses. “Life is not given, Potter, it’s fought for. Every day we battle; predators, the elements, other human beings and our own twisted nature. Here, at the cusp of death, you should be screaming a warrior’s call for life. You shouldn’t be letting someone already as broken as Draco have to raise the energy for you. That he does it at all is amazing enough.”
Harry’s nostrils flared and hands tightened into fists as anger slowly curled around him. Severus noticed, the energy visible with the glasses.
It is not his battle, nor is it yours. I will do what I must, because that is how the situation has made me. I don’t want to hurt anyone.
Severus wasn’t impressed. “Sometimes you have to hurt to survive. You did it with Voldemort. You do it every day when you kill to eat, whether it is ever by your own hands or not. The natural order demands lesser beings fall to stronger ones. Like it or not, you are the stronger, Potter. Not acting it will kill off what is left of your bloodline.”
Harry didn’t care about his bloodline. His parents were dead, as were the Dursleys. If another Potter existed out there, he didn’t know about it. He didn’t owe anyone for the life he struggled with his short years and he wasn’t going to start now.
It’s better if this creature doesn’t continue on. Clearly the kalistar aren’t good.
“McVicar, I blame you for this,” Severus growled and turned on Jaz who was flipping through notes. “Demonizing him. You of all people should be more accepting.”
Jaz’s tongue twitched over his sharp fang as he nodded thoughtfully. “I accept Mr. Potter for how he is; a potentially dangerous, berserker creature with more power than he will ever know what to do with. I don’t hold it against him but I certainly don’t want to be the one carrying him back into this realm either.”
Snape glared and turned back to Harry. “They’re cowards, Potter. Selfish cowards who fear power they can’t control. You should not let them sway you. If someone like Draco can see, surely you must know it’s true.”
Harry sighed and looked away from his professor’s stinging gaze. What the hell do you want from me, Snape? I’m tired of all this. What say do I have? My life is in their hands.
“That doesn’t mean you don’t speak up for yourself. It’s not an excuse to let Draco think you’re not fighting to stay. He’s falling apart. He needs you to be strong right now.” Severus was quiet in his plea, intent and soft spoken. It very much reminded Harry Draco cared for him.
Harry grumbled to himself and then nodded at Snape. He turned on his heel and out the door to find Draco.
He didn’t pass many in the hall. The hour was late and Harry nothing more than a floating pen to most. He clicked it unconsciously as he twitched with pent up energy.
There was no good news today, just layer after layer of shit problems to pile on his shoulders. He survived Voldemort but apparently not by much and god knew for how much longer. He didn’t remember being injured while battling the stain of a man, but then, Harry didn’t feel much of anything beyond the roar of power singing in his ears as he destroyed Voldemort. There was nothing else but power and light and victory.
Somehow, Voldemort still took his revenge. Harry was on the precipice of death, waiting to see if he would fall in this echo of life or be brought back to his own realm where the pain would be felt. He wasn’t really rushing for either.
Except, he had to, didn’t he? Time was ticking down and Draco, the glorious bastard, was waiting for him. It didn’t matter he was tired, drained and powerless in the face of so much he had no control over. Draco was depending on him to be strong.
Harry stopped in the hallway. He tapped his hand on the wall to remind himself he was real as power shot through him in painful bursts. It was a chain reaction lately, not one spark but many.
Somehow Draco found a way to control him. He took the wild mating call and wrapped it around his elegant pale fingers to turn it into something bearable. Harry had no excuse in it anymore, no way to justify giving in to the urges without the drive pounding in him to push him forward.
Stupid Malfoy, wanting him to be impossible with him. Right now that would mean to be back in their realm, alive and not a wild beast. Somehow it seemed a damn fucking lot to ask for, even for Draco’s standards.
Harry stared at the pen. He began to click it repeatedly again as he continued walking to Draco’s room.
Draco awoke slowly as a strange tickle pulled him from his sleep. Something ran up his leg. Harry’s warm hand gripped him in place while he slid something cool and thin across his skin. Draco sat up slowly. The lights raised in his windowless room let him know it was morning.
Blearily he followed down his leg which was exposed to the cold castle air since he fell asleep in just boxers that night on his warm sheets. His flesh was peppered with light blue pen lines and Draco blinked, and watched as more appeared under the pen Jaz made for Harry.
Harry stopped what he was doing now Draco was awake. He finished with a final flourish and clicked the pen shut. Draco closed his eyes as Harry’s hands moved up his body. He traced words with his fingers and lingered over patches of flesh to breathe hot breath. Draco opened his eyes when Harry lifted his left palm and held it in front of his face so he could read.
“This is the hand you hold yourself back with,” Draco read aloud. He followed down to his wrist and tilted his head to read. “This is your less dominant arms but is strong for all the ways you control yourself. You’re subtle, steady and don’t need to prove anything. You’re just happy to be.”
Harry kissed his fingertips one by one. Draco’s eyes strayed to the sensation and then slipped to his right hand. “You create and destroy with this hand. Build, flow magic and make impossible things happen. This arm strives to be and do, defend and attack and change what can’t always be changed.” Draco bit his lip and his eyelashes lowered when Harry’s breath brushed over his cheek. He caught the sight of writing on his torso down the center of his chest.
“You’re beautiful, strong, full of fire and emotion. You’re able to handle any obstacle with brilliance and grace…” Draco trailed off and shook his head weakly. “I can’t, Harry. I’m not so fucking strong that I can just accept you dying.”
Harry kissed his cheek and pulled away to trace Draco’s hand down to his navel. Draco followed and read. “You’re convincing, alluring, terribly persuasive in such a selfless way. You’re a hypocrite by marrying away your life while demanding I fight for mine.” Draco stopped again and looked away.
Harry pulled his head back gently. He kissed Draco’s other cheek and moved his hand down to his thigh.
“This is the leg you used to run away. This leg too you from You-Know-Who and brought you to an empty world because you were too afraid to live. It took you out the door tonight because you were afraid to see me die.” Draco’s voice hushed to something close to a sigh. He finished with the last line Harry stopped at when he woke up. “This leg is not your dominant leg but it might be your strongest support—Potter, that is a fucking shit thing to say.”
Harry clicked the pen open. He moved to Draco’s bare right leg and slowly wrote over his thigh. Draco read it aloud as it appeared on his skin. “This is the leg that leads you into battle… It brought you from your parents’ house into a new world of magic. It brought you to me full of fire, flight and a whole lot of prat.” Draco snorted and shoved Harry lightly. Harry wasn’t done and moved down his leg and slowly covered Draco’s skin with words.
“This leg will lead you next because you always move forward. You’re compelled as who you are no matter your fear. You survive even if it’s in quiet compromise. When you’re loud, this is the leg you stomp down and demand to be heard and known… and answered.” Draco frowned as Harry stopped. He dug the pen lightly as if not sure whether to continue or not.”
“Finish it,” Draco implored quietly.
Hesitantly, Harry continued and the pen swirled sensation over his skin. I’ll fight to live if you fight to live.
Draco took a slow breath. His brows furrowed as the words sank in. “What are you saying. Do you want me to not marry?”
Draco closed his eyes and sank back down on the bed and his pillow. It would be so easy to say yes while alone with Harry. The real world was so far away while they hid in his room together. He wouldn’t be able to keep such a promise. Not when the first one was made the way it was with his blood and on the brink of death.
“Potter, you make it back here in one piece and we’ll talk about it.”
Harry scribbled on the back of Draco’s left hand. He raised it to read.
“Yeah, well, there you have it,” Draco said with a shrug. Harry grabbed his other hand and wrote slower over the back of it.
Draco blinked. “Hmm. I think you’re a little confused here.”
You are both. Impossible. Beautiful. And very GAY.
“Shut up,” Draco grumbled. He wasn’t sure if he was more annoyed by the pretty words or the gay remark.
Harry just added another ‘very’ on top of the first, then surround the whole thing in a heart. I love all of you.
Draco blushed and tried to look away but Harry kept lifting his hand up. “Fine. Quit it, you pain. You love me; I get it. Thank you—or whatever the hell you’re supposed to say to an idiot who doesn’t know how to be proper and just writes all over a person while they’re sleeping.”
You love me.
Draco scowled. His gaze slipped away again only to jolt back when Harry bit his hand. “Hey! Fine, I might… uh, I might kinda love you.” Harry nipped him again, this time on his arm. “Potter, this is not the way to get me to say things, you bloody git.” If Harry cared, he gave no sign and instead nipped Draco’s arm repeatedly. It was having a queer effect and Draco’s yelps quickly turned into heated moans as he gasped for air. Stop that… oh, seriously. Git.”
Harry licked up his arm next. The flat of his tongue did nothing to smear the ink in its proper realm but it did manage to tickle at Draco’s arm hair. Draco grasped weakly at Harry’s hair but lost his intent to stop him moments into the movement. He tangled fingers into Harry’s locks and puled him up for a very needed kiss.
“How are you being so behaved?” Draco asked distractedly when Harry’s hands ghosted up his sides. It took Harry a moment to answer for the pen was lost in the sheet and there was very little left of Draco to write on.
Need. Yours is different right now.
“Oh?” Draco felt flushed and vulnerable as Harry wrote a final word on his knee.
The pen was once again tossed aside. Harry cupped Draco’s face and his fingers gently traced his jaw and up to his ear. Draco breathed deeply in the hold as he felt a warmth slowly bloom over his skin and made him feel stronger than he had in days. He didn’t understand how Harry could do it but was starting to as he thought of the little his father once told him of the kalistar.
It was before his first year of Hogwarts when his father went through a list of dos and don’ts. One big don’t was the Forbidden Forest. If Draco ever came across a white dragon with scales and feathers, he was to run no matter what. But a gold one, the kalistar, with long spraying horns and feathered wings was very much a protector. Draco was to trust and love such a being and it would turn black and keep him safe. But Draco never saw either. The beings which stalked him at the edge of the forest were always invisible to him, like his pet Karia.
Draco was convinced he would become the murderous beast if his ring was removed and he was allowed to transform, just as his father while in prison. It was the only logical thing given how Lucius feared the vesper and was also one himself. His father never sensed Karia and called him frivolous for even suggesting she existed. Lucius must have even less senses in the other realm than he did.
“Harry, could you just…?” Draco trailed off when Harry sank down against him and pushed him into the mattress with arms wrapped tight. Except the long swipes with his tongue over Draco’s neck, Harry was a perfect gentleman.
Draco closed his eyes and tried not to think of the sad thoughts of his father becoming a murderous animal to protect him. Instead he drifted as he felt Harry’s weight and heat and slow thump of heart. Each random spark of Harry’s energy was a flash of reminder to pull Draco back from fantasy, back from allowing himself to be fully content.
The clock chimed softly and reminded Draco he only had ten minutes to get to breakfast before class. He moved his hands over Harry’s back and shoulders, not really in a rush to get up while enjoying the comforting weight and press of flesh. Although Harry looked torn, especially on his back, when wearing the glasses, his skin felt smooth and strong. Draco wondered if it was the way of things in that particular realm; Harry’s beast body was injured, but Harry himself wasn’t yet. He supposed as long as Harry continued to feel so comforting and caring, it really didn’t matter much.
Eating was important after not eating for so long; at least it’s what Draco’s stomach was insisting. Draco gently pushed at Harry’s shoulders until he obliged and got up.
“I’m going to have to wash it off, you know,” Draco said softly as he indicated all the pen on him. Harry took his hand and nodded his messy hair into Draco’s palm. With a sigh, Draco turned and walked wearily to the bathroom, still tired and weak from his difficult week.
He started, eyes wide as he caught his face in the mirror. Harry had wrote across his forehead. The words reflected backward and it took a moment for Draco to discern them. “Be my boyfriend? Potter, you fucking idiot. Where are you?” He stormed toward the bathroom door, only to knock into Harry as he was stepping through, the bloody perv.
“You’re invisible! How the hell can I date someone I can’t even see? I have to have some fucking standards!” Draco wasn’t quite sure why he was so angry about it all. He suspected as Harry wrapped arms around him and moved his hands over his back and raised fire in him, Harry’s argument might have some validity. Touching was certainly enjoyable. And hell, they argued much less since Harry couldn’t say as many stupid things. Or at least, Draco couldn’t hear them.
“Hands, you,” Draco snapped warningly when Harry once again grabbed his ass and squeezed firmly. “Have you conveniently forgotten I’m getting married?”
In rebuttal, Harry lifted Draco’s hand and traced the heart which pointed out Draco was very, very gay.
Draco sighed. “I have responsibilities. People are depending on me, and… and I made a promise, Harry. I can’t just go back on my word.”
Harry went further down his arm and traced over how Draco could try to change what couldn’t be changed. After, Harry began tapping words on his flesh while Draco softly repeated them aloud. “Love… changes… impossible…” He stared as Harry stopped and lingered at Harry’s final promise to fight to live if Draco did too.
Draco huffed but didn’t resist the arms that pulled him close as Harry nuzzled into his neck. “I can’t be so easily persuaded, Potter. But… but if you want a boyfriend who is going to be married in less that two weeks, I can agree to that.” It was hardly an ideal situation, and it made Draco’s heart twist even to think.
He hoped Harry wouldn’t be satisfied with such a small part of him. Draco didn’t want to lose his heart to him—a heart if he were in a proper state of mind he could admit was already very much lost and given to Harry—and then have to walk into a loveless, sexless marriage for the rest of his life. Wizards didn’t divorce, not if they were pureblood. One had to look infallible in everything, including matters of the heart when you held so much power.
Harry tapped him once again and Draco glanced down at the text. Impossible.
“I know, but it’s all I can give you. It’s all I have to give right now.” Draco sighed heavily.
Harry seemed to disagree but the words written weren’t enough. Gently he took Draco’s hands and led him to the shower. He reached Draco’s long fingers to turn the spray on. Draco pulled away and charmed the temperature to something agreeable. He kept his eyes downcast and bottom lip worried between his teeth as he Draco slowly pulled his boxers down and stepped out of them. He didn’t look fully in Harry’s direction. His silver eyes slid toward the area Harry’s powerful aura flickered and then returned to the loofah he was soaping up.
Harry wanted to be his boyfriend. Harry loved him. It was a strange feeling. A nearly impossible feeling; Harry had been gone for so long and Draco once dreamed of having a boyfriend just like him. He’d been waiting for someone who got very annoyed with the mean things he said until he had to be a nicer person. Someone who demanded with flashing green eyes until Draco would do the things his body really, really wanted to do and finally shut his stupid, logical mind up that always did as his parents said.
His skin tingled under Harry’s gaze as Draco began to wash the ink from his skin. He watched intently as the words faded along with Harry’s thoughts. “Harry, just… oh. Just behave, please,” he asked huskily as Harry’s hand wrapped around his smaller one and the loofah sopped white bubbles as he tightened his grip. Harry obliged somewhat by just using his hand to help Draco in an unneeded task of washing every spot he could reach. With Harry leaning against him and Draco wet and soapy with much hot breath moving down his throat, it was difficult not to want.
The crazed mating urge was not there but it didn’t mean there was no lust. Even before Harry transformed and even before Draco fully understood what just a whiff of his sex scent could do to him, Draco wanted. He wanted to feel Harry’s hands on him, his strong body pressed close while his mouth rained kisses down. He wanted to be worshiped with demanding eyes until he couldn’t say no. In a lot of ways, it was a more dangerous ache than the mating drive. This one was soft and warm, insidious in its quiet but unyielding power.
Very compelling, Draco thought dizzily when Harry’s free hand moved down his outer thigh. His fingers rubbed into his muscles and dragged up his hip and side.
Draco inhaled through his nose sharply, his eyes wide, body tense as Harry found his nipple and twisted it gently. He rolled it back and forth between fingers and turned the nub red, while he blew soft streams of air over his neck. Draco gasped as he was pulled back tighter against his body and water sprayed down over him. “This is dangerous,” Draco whispered breathlessly.
Harry’s tongue flicked out, touched his flesh, and was followed swiftly by nipping teeth over his long neck. Harry didn’t seem to care how dangerous things were. He was still the reckless Gryffindor who didn’t give a fuck about consequences; exactly how Draco needed him to be. Harry pulled him even closer, unbalancing him until Draco was forced to rest all his weight on his sturdy form.
Draco closed his eyes and leaned back into Harry’s touch, his wet hair resting on a dry shoulder. Harry ghosted fingers up his torso, over his ribcage, down his stomach to dip fingertips into his belly button. Harry’s touch grew firmer, bolder. He avoided Draco’s straining erection to move down the front of his pale thighs. It was loving and maddening all at once. Draco whimpered when the shower spray touched his twitching cock and for a moment he thought it was Harry.
Draco wasn’t going to wait for Harry to lose his shit and run away again. He reached down his body, grabbed his leaking dick and gave it a few well needed tugs. Breath tickled Draco’s ear in a sudden burst and he imagined Harry must have liked the sight. Harry’s hand covered his to assist readily. “Oh fuck… Oh.”
No, this was far more dangerous. He wasn’t quite sure when it happened but Harry managed to get his hand with the loofah to Draco’s back and was soaping his ass and thighs with slow circles. Bubbles tingled over Draco’s balls and crack and dripped between his cheeks in a slippery heat he couldn’t deny moaning over.
“Please, god, please. Don’t leave this time, Harry. Don’t leave me alone with this again,” Draco begged softly when Harry released both his hands and the loofah fell to the ground. Draco stilled all movement and waited to see if he was going to pull away. Harry was just as still, barely breathing as his chest moved against Draco’s back.
Slowly, so slow Draco wondered if he were imagining it, Harry traced his fingers back to his entrance. Draco licked his lips and unconsciously spread his legs a little wider and bent forward. Harry was tentative as he probed the tight pucker of Draco’s hole, almost like he was afraid he was going to run if pushed too fast. His fingers were too dry and unaffected by the soap until Harry coated them in his mouth and tried again. Draco didn’t resist, his eyes squeezed shut and mouth gasping loud pants as Harry carefully stretched him.
Harry’s other arm wrapped securely around his waist to keep him from falling as Draco swayed and whimpered. Draco couldn’t understand how strong Harry could be. He was both holding him upright with invisible arms and body, and yet could touch him so achingly soft. Each push of fingers, tight and hot inside him, burned Draco’s fire brighter and his entire body shook from the touch. In that moment Draco was certain he would do anything, give anything, be anything, just to have Harry be his.
He glared at the ring on his hand. He hated it, hated what he knew would be a far more terrible existence than he could have ever guessed if he chose to be a beast with Harry. He might be the type of creature who would be a murderous, wild thing all year round, and could possibly craved human flesh. That it didn’t totally repulse him was even more terrifying because he knew it was the answer to all his fucking problems. As a beast he couldn’t marry, couldn’t be expected to be anything but mindless and wild. He could be with Harry always and never be afraid again.
Fuck, he could feel alive again. For the rest of his life Harry would touch him, taste him, fill him. Just as long as he lived, Harry would be his. They could be feral together. Wild, mindless creatures out in the woods who hunted and rutted and never gave another thought to what the world wanted. They had both given enough to earn that. Hadn’t they?
Draco closed his eyes to the view of the silver ring and let Harry push him up against the wall and bury his thick fingers deeper inside his clenching flesh. “Hell. Harry, I need you.”
Harry’s mouth moved to his neck and nipped harder until he drew blood. He lapped his tongue over the red fluid in long swipes, breath hot and strained. He grabbed Draco’s hand, the one with the ring, and carefully twirled the silver band on his finger. Draco opened his eyes to watch, his breath caught in his throat.
So much of him wanted to. Almost all of him wanted to give in. Life as it was just wasn’t fucking living.
It would be so easy.
Draco closed his hand into a fist and trapped the ring in place. “I need to make sure you’re brought back,” he said unsteadily. There was a different, dangerous rush of fire running through him at the realization he was moments from taking the ring off and giving in. “I can’t trust them to do it, to not kill you. So I need to be whole until that moment. Until then, okay?”
Harry breathed hot fire over him. His tongue licked over his skin and hard body pushed Draco’s slender form up against the cool tile of the shower wall and trapped him in place. Draco wasn’t certain, but he might have just promised—Harry and himself—if Harry lived, he would live too. He would continue not as he was, but as a beast so they could remain together.
Laughter, hot and bright, bubbled up in Draco at the very thought. God, he wanted to be with Harry. No matter what. He wanted Harry to live and stay and be with him forever. “Ah, fuck, Harry. Be my boyfriend. I wanna be—oh, hell.” Draco moaned and inched his feet wider on the floor to push back onto Harry’s fingers.
Harry’s movements were relentless. Three fingers filled Draco’s passage, stretched him wide, and Harry’s hips thrust against his persistent hand in eagerness. Draco released small, soft chokes of breath. The shower spray spluttered water into his mouth as he shuddered around the feel of Harry’s forceful, eager thrusts of fingers. “Come on… come on,” Draco groaned. He tried to push back but Harry’s body wouldn’t budge. “God, I need you, Harry. Needed you for so long. Stop drawing it out and fuck me—oh, hell!”
Draco’s growl was cut off with a gasp. Harry removed his fingers swiftly, grabbed Draco by the hips and pressed his large cock against his ass. Draco forgot just how big Harry was, and he wasn’t sure if spit was really going to be enough to ease onto such a thick cock without being injured. He closed his eyes and held back a hysterical laugh when he realized he really didn’t give a fuck. He would rather it hurt than not finally have Harry inside him.
He was apparently very, very fucking gay.
Draco let the tension leave his body and turned his head. He found Harry’s face and kissed what turned out to be his jaw. Harry dipped his head down further and kissed Draco deeply while he slowly pushed weight forward into his hips and against the ring of muscles of Draco’s entrance. He was going to be late for class, Draco realized dimly in the back of his mind, the thought disappearing as quickly as it came.
“Harry… oh… oh, god. Fuck.” One of Harry’s hands came out to rub his back and side, and his breath puffed over Draco’s cheek. Draco barely noticed, all his focus on the mix of agony, pain, and pleasure as Harry pushed the head of his cock slowly past the tight ring of muscles guarding Draco’s hole. He felt Harry hesitate when fire shot through his body. Draco tried to fight the urge to push back, push out the huge intrusion filling him so completely and then some. Both of Harry’s hands rubbed Draco’s arms and back soothingly. Harry kissed his neck and nipped, as if he could somehow distract from the unbearable fullness Draco’s body was consumed with.
Somehow, it was working, and Draco’s broken cries receded after long, despairing moments of red fire. The overwhelming became a whelming, and then eventually an ache. Draco shuddered and pushed his hips back, needing movement. Only to stop and gasp, the nerve endings within him waking up as if Harry just sank into him again and skin dragged across skin in almost dry friction. Harry noticed, and licked-wet fingers probed around his stretched entrance again while Draco jerked and moaned against the wall.
In moments everything else slipped away. Harry sank in deeper, the saliva still not quite enough but they were both sweating so much things were getting slicker. Draco couldn’t really care, his mind and body spinning. With eyes squeezed shut, Draco pushed back and welcomed Harry in as deep as he could go. He met each small thrust with gasped cries and quivering knees. Harry mumbled something in his ear and Draco didn’t care that Potter still couldn’t figure out he couldn’t hear him. Harry rubbed his sides, massaged Draco’s ass and thighs while he rested buried deep inside and around him. It was an unbearable throbbing fire that filled Draco, and made him feel so vulnerable and connected all at once.
What a fucking terrible, intimate feeling to have Harry so deep inside and surrounding around him and still he couldn’t fucking see him!
Would it have been better without the ring or with the wild mating ache to steal the pain away? Draco didn’t know. With some slippery soap that actually affected Harry’s realm? Very fucking likely. But it wasn’t bad, not bad, just so much. Not just in his body, but in the emptiness he only recently named. It was empty since he nearly killed himself, and now, somehow, that void too was unbearably full.
Harry again murmured into his shoulder and throat and Draco smiled through the tears streaking down his face at what a fucking idiot he was. The two of them; him for being fucked by an invisible and near dead savior, and Harry for still fucking talking like he could hear him. “Do it, Harry. You’re my boyfriend and you have to do as I say.”
Harry bit him hard on the neck and Draco’s body tensed and tightened somehow around the impossible thickness splitting him in two. He glanced down at where Harry was licking his new wound, knowing what he wanted by it. To claim him. Harry would have him like a beast, like some fucking animal who could be overpowered and brought to knees by teeth and cock. Once the ring was off, Harry would claim him and he would be his. Draco loved the idea of it.
Harry moved and pulled partially out of his tightness. Draco cried out, his hand clamped over his mouth to stop the loud noise from echoing off the bathroom walls. But he couldn’t stop the sounds, not when Harry thrust back in and Draco’s arms went weak and he was unable to lift them any longer. Draco’s legs were next, but Harry was so damn strong it didn’t matter. Draco was held up, pinned to the wall as Harry fucked him as slowly and thoroughly as his cock would allow.
Draco could feel him everywhere, could almost hear Harry’s grunts with each thrust, and soft murmurs between as he licked up his throat and ear and cheek. It was so bizarre and fucking sexy. Draco was wrapped in his scent, warm and near suffocating, along with his flesh and sweat and teeth that kept nipping little sharp jolts of pleasure and pain. Even the annoying sparks over Harry’s skin were suddenly damn good and welcome. They were electric bursts while Harry built a slow rhythm and Draco felt everything.
“Harry… fuck. Harder, come on,” he begged. Sweat mixed with the shower to drip into his eyes and sting and changed the flavor as it flowed into his mouth and he tasted. Harry only moved slower, with long drawn out thrusts that made Draco cry out each time. He gripped blindly at the wall as Harry found a place inside him that burst color and pleasure with each hit. After only a dozen of these amazing, shocking thrusts, Harry pushed into Draco unrelenting and pinned him. One hand came up to wrap firmly, yet gently around Draco’s throat and the other to slowly push fingers into his moaning mouth. Draco’s tongue met the long, hot digits. He pressed to the flat of them, lured them deeper and sucked them down almost desperate as his skin danced with unrestrained energy.
He didn’t know why it felt so damn good to have Harry fill his mouth so saliva dripped down his jaw like some frothing animal. Never mind the thrilling, yet comforting sensation of his throat being gripped the way it was, as if Harry could break him or nuzzle him on a whim. It felt so good, the same way it felt so wild to know Harry was just so much stronger than him, able to take whatever he wanted so easily, yet willing to stop if only asked. God, and he was taking him, so thick inside, so intent to be slow and make sure he felt every inch as his body stretched and opened to his Harry.
Draco struggled to breathe around the fingers dipping down his tongue and felt when Harry changed. His thickness somehow swelled inside even more and Harry’s hot breath broke into small, desperate puffs as his hips jolted forward with shallow, quick pumps, as if he could bury just a little deeper and they would be joined and one. Draco spread his legs as wide as he could and pushed back into the jolting thrusts. His eyes closed as his body tensed and tightened and clenched so fucking good. Harry murmured something into his neck before he suddenly bit down and drew more blood. Draco shouted and jerked from the pain and pleasure. Harry dug nails into his throat and Draco bit down on the fingers in his mouth as he came. Their hips bucked and slammed in rhythm and then in discord, Draco so tight and breathless and lost.
They started to shake as their orgasms faded, almost as if what was left of their fire and strength was drained with their seed. Harry held him tight, still buried deep within, holding him up and breathing him in deep. Draco had no complaints as he caught his breath and moaned unintelligibly against the wall. Harry’s fingers slowly withdrew from between his lips, the digits smooth trailing wet down his lips. Harry panted with him as his chest heaved. His hands slowly moved over his form and pulled tired, hungry sounds from Draco as they rested.
Harry finally pulled away. He carefully extracted from Draco’s sore passage and turned him around to face him. Draco couldn’t see him, which made things once again awkward when Harry just wanted to stare at him and be seen as well. Harry settled for kneeling and licking up Draco’s cum from his tight stomach. His tongue greedily ate up every drop while Draco whimpered and watched the white fluid disappear from view.
Harry moved lower and nuzzled into Draco’s spent cock, not wanting to irritate the likely sensitive flesh. Draco gave no sign of protest, so he lapped at the softening flesh and cleaned more thoroughly than the shower alone. He moved to his balls and pushed Draco back against the wall to rest and lift his thigh over Harry’s shoulder so he could reach his sack and entrance with greater ease. He tasted his new mate and the way Draco’s natural scent and his now pervasive one mixed in his tightness and slowly dribbled out.
Draco gave a low whine when he realized what Harry was doing. He grabbed blindly at his messy, sweaty hair and clutched while Harry continue his deranged, long tongued assault on his sore hole. Harry seemed determined to recollect his seed and suddenly turned Draco and pushed him face first into the wall so he could have better admittance to his entrance and passage.
Harry licked at him with zest; Draco wasn’t certain what it did for Harry, but he imagined it might be just as maddening as when Draco sucked him off and gotten all of Harry’s sex scent on him. Maybe the smell of Draco made Harry fucking mad for him too. Hell, maybe it was the smell of them together, hole and cum joined and feeling so right.
Draco went to reach behind him so he could see for himself. Harry caught his straying hand and bit firmly and licked. He stood and invisible fingers pushed into Draco’s mouth without warning. They were warm, bitter and musky tasting. Draco groaned and his eyes rolled back from the flavor of exactly what Harry was seeking, but now mixed with his saliva. It filled Draco’s senses and made him impossibly dizzy. Still, it wasn’t as overwhelming as when Harry caught him in the hallway. Without Harry to amplify the mating call it didn’t ache the same unbearable way even if it did ache.
Harry turned him again and picked Draco up. He lifted him with ease while Draco wrapped long, shaking legs around his waist. Harry nearly tried to take them through the bathroom door until Draco convinced him to wait a damn moment so he could work the handle. Once in the bedroom Harry threw Draco down on the bed. His shower wet skin prickled cold now out of the steam of the bathroom but he was quickly warmed when Harry climbed up his form. His kisses were desperate as they pressed their bodies together.
With a groan, Draco suddenly pushed him off. Bleary eyed, he stared around his room in confusion. Another loud knock, repeated and worried, sounded from the door leading out to the hallway. Draco glanced at the clock, swore and then smacked at Harry’s returning hands that were trying to keep him bed-bound and beneath him.
Sure, Harry had quieted the fucking mating urge a lot more. Either that, or Harry just wasn’t as dependent on it now he knew Draco would give in without it. It didn’t mean the git wasn’t still determined.
“Quit it. Harry!” Draco snapped. Only to laugh when Harry lifted him off the bed and dropped him down again with a bounce. “Oh fuck, you are so god damn powerful,” he murmured appreciatively as he stared up in Harry’s general direction, his eyes heavy lidded and full of wonder.
The door again pounded, making Draco nearly jump at the sound. “Crap.” He scrambled up and eluded hands he couldn’t see coming but could sense well enough to avoid. He grabbed a bathrobe from behind the bathroom door, slipped it on and cinched the belt securely. He carefully unlocked his door and peered out into the hall.
It was Blaise, his hand raised as if to knock again and eyes wild in fear. “Draco? Are you? Did you?” He pushed the door open without finishing his thought and walked into Draco’s room and looking him over like he didn’t believe he was real.
Draco flushed when he realized he was covered in bites all over his neck. Potter had a damn problem keeping him blemish free. And well, he certainly didn’t mind how the marks were created at the time. “What?”
“You’re late,” Blaise said finally. He seemed to deflate as Draco showed no signs of serious damage. “I was knocking for ages and you didn’t answer. I thought… I don’t know what I thought.” Blaise ran a shaky hand through his hair and his fingers tangled in his magically straightened black locks he let flow free that day.
Draco shrugged. He was starting to understand what Blaise must have thought and he didn’t know how to handle it. He shut the door to his room; he didn’t need passersby to gawk while he got ready for class and tried to explain to Blaise he wasn’t going to kill himself. No matter how upset he might seem. He wasn’t that person anymore and there would never be another Voldemort to run from quite so aggressively. Which was all well and good, but Harry didn’t seem to be done with him just yet. Draco groaned as he was pulled from his bureau and clothes and up against Harry’s chest.
“Harry, you’ve had your turn. Now I have to deal with the rest of the world,” Draco grumbled. He wasn’t angry at Harry but more at the daily mundane life which insisted on interrupting them. “We’ll finish this later…” Harry’s mouth trailed over his jaw, hot and compelling. “Damn it, you pain.”
“Shit, Potter, keep it in your pants for five seconds,” Blaise muttered as he turned his head to give his poor pink friend some privacy. “I was worried about Draco. Before Pansy and I left last night, he agreed to have breakfast with us.”
A dark laugh burst out of Draco as Harry’s hands caressed through his robe, between his thighs, over his tightening balls and pressed against his entrance. Draco grabbed Harry’s hair and twisted harshly. His smile was wicked as Harry continued to press fingers right against his hole and wiggled ever so gently to remind him what they could so easily do, audience or not.
“You know what, Blaise? Get the fuck out. We’re in the middle of something and your shit concerns can wait until I’m fucking satisfied for a change.”
“Satisfied? What, are you two shagging now?” Blaise asked darkly. He glared over his shoulder and then quickly looked away. Draco’s expression was a cross between ferocious and lusty. It wasn’t a look Blaise had ever seen on his well-controlled friend and not necessarily a bad look on him either.
“Yes, as a matter of fact we are.” Another odd laugh bubbling out of Draco, followed by a slow exhalation as Harry’s fingers pressed more insistent against his hole.
Blaise whirled, hand covering his eyes with just enough to peek through and find Draco’s flushed face. Once he realized there really was nothing to see, Blaise dropped his hand completely. “I thought you weren’t going to? He’s a kalistar and dangerous! What has he done? Has he used his allure to snare you, Draco? Do I need to get Snape or Dumbledore down here?”
Harry’s power raised up. With one hand hot between Draco’s ass cheeks, he used the other to push raw magic toward the annoying interruption. Draco snorted and tightened his grip on Harry’s hair. “Stop, Potter. He’s my domain, not yours.”
Blaise watched with brow furrowed as Draco reached his tongue out and seemed to licking Harry from chin to forehead. The sudden pressure and whirl of power in the air stopped and papers settled back again as Harry relented. “What the fuck is wrong with you two?”
“Nothing,” Draco drawled. He pulled his attention from Harry to glare at Blaise’s judgmental expression. “As long as no one fucking interferes, we are perfectly fucking fine. Go on to class and I’ll catch up later.”
Blaise shook his head, his eyes narrowed at Draco’s surprisingly harsh tone. “Draco, if he’s really a kalistar, you shouldn’t be alone with him. Definitely not doing what you two are doing. He could be manipulating you.”
Draco laughed again, the sound less hysterical and more angry. “Funny how everyone seems to know how dangerous the kalistar are but no one has bothered to say what the fucking vesper do. I’ve got the fucking ring on, Blaise. And Potter here does whatever I ask, as long as I ask just the right way. Now get the fuck out and mind your own business.”
“So what, I’m supposed to believe you’re manipulating him now? Don’t you see how fucking messed up that is, Draco?” Blaise insisted.
Draco growled when he realized Blaise wasn’t going to let the fucking thing go anytime soon. Shit, he just wanted more sex; it wasn’t some fucking crime. Sure, he was skipping class for it but who the fuck cared? Draco scowled when he felt Harry move away. He thought the sexy beast was giving up, only to realize Harry was seeking out his pen so he could communicate properly with Blaise.
Blaise watched warily as Harry clicked the pen open and floated it toward the nearest piece of scattered blank paper on the floor.
Zabini, I’m trying to have sex with my boyfriend. You’re not invited, so go fuck off.
Blaise glowered and put his hands on his hips. “Fuck you, Potter. Until I know he’s not killing himself and you’re not raping him, I’m not fucking leaving.”
“For fuck sake, Blaise!” Draco yelled and threw his hands up in the air. “You’re out of your fucking mind.”
“I’m out of my mind? For the last goddamn week Pans and I’ve been trying to pry out what the fuck has gotten you all quiet and dead inside like the last time. All you told us was Potter transformed and has been aggressive with the damn mating call. What exactly do you want from me? All we could assume was that he forced you. Especially since you told us what he was last night, and then kicked us out so we had to research on our own. The kalistar are dangerous—Like, top level, don’t fuck around with, run away as fast as you can if ever seen! If you don’t fucking communicate, how are we going to be able to help you?”
Draco was about to snarl an angry retort about how he didn’t need anyone’s nosy fucking help, when Harry started writing, the pen drawing Blaise’s eye.
You’re right, Zabini. I should have come to you after Malfoy raped me. It was wrong and I was just so ashamed and hurt. It felt so damn good and—
“You’re a fucking sod, you dickweed,” Blaise hissed. He stamped on the parchment but avoided the pen in case he damaged it. “This isn’t some fucking joke. We’ve been worried. Hermione said you were obsessed over Draco before you left school last year. That the beast was just starting to show and it was messed up in the head. You’ve both been avoiding talking to us about it. The whole situation is fucked up and you’re spending too much time alone together.”
Draco had heard enough. He was the one miserable the fucking week because Harry hadn’t been spending time with him but hiding outside the door. “You know what’s fucking messed up? I find some fucking happiness and you’re suddenly worried over me. If you’re so worried, then realize just how much better I am today for having Harry, and leave it at that.”
Blaise paused and gave his friend of the last six years a thoughtful look. “Honestly? If it weren’t for the ring, I wouldn’t even be sure you were human anymore.”
Draco stared at Blaise’s very serious brown eyes, and couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of him again. Fine, he sounded fucking crazy. And he felt… god he felt so fucking good and crazy and he really, really, really wanted to finish what he was doing with Harry before his friend decided to take it upon himself to dictate his goddamn life.
Zabini, you say it like it’s a bad thing. Fucking look at him. He’s gorgeous and wild and not putting up with anyone’s shit, including mine. Do you really want him back to before, all gray, quiet and sad?
Blaise’s nostril’s flared as he glared at Harry’s scrawl and bent down slightly to read it all. “Yeah, and what happens when you bite it, Potter? You just going to leave him here, some crazy, out of control version of himself because you couldn’t keep your hands off him?”
Draco snapped his hand up. The lights flickered ominously and everything went very still. His face was stone, just like when he nearly hexed Nott in the Great Hall.
You really might want to rephrase that, Harry wrote. Draco is who he is and I haven’t changed him. I just happened to be around to enjoy as he woke up.
Blaise was only angrier; Draco seemed even more irrational when Potter was blamed. “He shouldn’t be waking if he’s wearing the ring. Why is he getting more like, like some wild beast?”
Blaise was staring at the paper as he waited for Harry to answer but it was Draco who spoke. “Because that is who I’ve always been, before my parents trained it out of me with so much fear and sense of duty that there was nothing left. I am a fucking beast who cries, bleeds, fights and fucks. I feel! And I have been denying it a long fucking time because I was too afraid.”
That’s my dragon. Harry wrote, the words larger and flowing in beautiful script instead of his normal scrawl.
The laughter was bubbling up again, nearly impossible to contain but it wasn’t dark. As Draco let it go he could see, truly, just how joyful it was, this feeling inside. “My control has just been another prison. I’m done playing the fucking good son, good heir, good child, so I wouldn’t be another victim to Voldemort. He’s dead and I’m done. If I need your help, I’ll ask for it. Otherwise, worry about your own damn problems and leave me be.”
A war seemed to wage in Blaise as anger and confusion swirled in his dark eyes while he stared at his old friend.
“You’re not weak, Draco, I never thought that. If it was weakness, I don’t think I ever would have feared you would go through with it. You’re too strong. You go against the natural order of things to do horrible things to yourself, like what you did last summer.” Blaise looked away and took a deep breath. “Maybe it’s that beast inside you who is the source of it, who can let you do so much wrong out of pure determination.”
Draco’s lips curled into a snarl. “Still, you judge what I do as right or wrong instead of just accepting it was my fucking choice to make. What is right and wrong when you live in a world run by a monstrous dictator who could have killed us all with ease? Your opinion never mattered. No one’s did but mine. What is anyone to say of the value of my life, when it’s my life? I didn’t go against the natural order; I went with my natural order. I’m sorry you still think you have some say in that, but you don’t. I’ll accept you as a friend but not the ruler of my life.”
Draco’s words only made Blaise angry. He couldn’t handle his concern being turned, in Draco’s mind, into manipulation instead of just being the love he had for his friend. So what if he was trying to control Draco by keeping him alive? At least he would be alive! “You’re fucked, Draco. Fine, fight to die. What the hell do I care? You just gave it all away to your mother anyways. Go play beasts with Potter and pretend you’re not getting married and tied in a couple of weeks. I was concerned. We all were.”
“Your concern does not give you the right to run my fucking life,” Draco said steadily. His anger drained with the more conviction he felt. “I’ll deal with my mother when the time comes. In my way because it’s my right to do that as well. I’ll interact with Harry as I see fit and I don’t need your fucking opinions on the matter. And if you insist on continuing with your bloody prying shit, no matter what your intentions are, I’m going to cut you out of my life. Another choice I get to make where you get no say. Do you fucking understand yet?”
Blaise nodded curtly. Anger blazed even brighter in his eyes. “Well I get some fucking choices in this as well, Draco. One of them being whether I want to be around someone who doesn’t give a fuck about my opinions. At the moment, it’s definitely a no.” With a final glare, Blaise left and snapped the door shut behind him.
Draco stared at the door a moment but didn’t feel regretful at all. His fucking friends wasted their goddamn year thinking he was going to kill himself. They had tried to get him to be something alive when they really had no say in the fucking thing. Draco loved them but not enough to bow to them and their wants over his own. He needed to mourn and numb and be as miserable as he did. He was fucking sad; and there was nothing wrong with it. Draco glanced over when the pen clicked and began to write.
You are fucking sexy when you stand up for yourself.
Draco smirked, and ran his hand through his half dried hair. “I’m sure it’s nothing like the way you used to be, fucking burning from the eyes every time I pissed on one of your mudblood friends just to rile you up.”
So that was on purpose?
“Oh yeah, you have very demanding eyes.” Draco wanted to ask then, why Harry hadn’t tried to interfere when he went home to kill himself last year. But he imagined it was the same reason the infuriating Gryffindor pushed back when Draco was fighting Dumbledore and Jaz for Harry to be allowed to come back. Harry understood his own reasons for doing the things he did. Even if he didn’t understand Draco’s, he at least respected them. Draco would have to do the same.
Draco walked over to the papers on the floor and crouched down next to Harry’s body heat. “Here’s my dilemma. If I give up on the whole marriage thing and you die, I’ve got nothing to fall back on. I don’t think she’d do it, mother needs me too much. But being disowned, homeless and with my name run through the mud is really not some fairytale way to live. She’s promised that as the only option to Vellamorn. I need time to figure out how to get around it.”
Harry took a long moment to reply. His left hand moving out to flow over Draco’s bent leg while he tapped the pen on the floor. And what about if I really am fucked around humans? Is that how you want to live, outcast by your mother, tied to a pariah and forced to live in absolute seclusion? Yeah, I’ve got money and shit but is that enough to put up with never being around people again?
Draco shrugged and bit his lower lip. “As long as you’re alive, I really don’t give a fuck. Just, um, maybe we should also consider the possibility that I may be the fucking crazy one around the scent of human flesh,” he added nervously.
I have. I wanted to talk to you about keeping the ring on.
Draco rolled his eyes. “If you live, it’s coming off. I’ll break up with the bitch first thing, maybe get a place in order where we’ll be safe, but then the bloody thing is off and you are all mine.”
Harry tossed the pen aside, wrapped his arms around Draco and kissed him deeply. Draco tried not to think about how moot it all was; Harry was likely dead, and if not, Dumbledore might just finish him off just to be on the safe side. Right now it all felt fucking fantastic and he didn’t want to ruin it with reality.
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