Part Four of Six

Part IV

After having avoided lunch...some Gryffindor he was...Harry was well on his way to starving by the time dinner rolled around. Still, he dallied enough that Hermione and Ron left without him, giving him a few minutes to himself. He used the time to get a good and proper panic started, but it had worn off after he'd reasserted his promise to himself to just get through this as painlessly as possible.

As he entered the Great Hall, his eyes were automatically drawn to Draco at the Slytherin table. He sat alone...sort of. He sat amidst his fellow Slytherins, but Harry had never seen someone look so lonely in the middle of his supposed friends. Pity tugged at Harry's heart; that was, until Draco's calculating eyes met his. There was no challenge, no promise, not even anger. Just... discontent. All over and inside.

Biting his lip, Harry sat across from Ron and Hermione, who were holding hands under the table and trying not to show it. He had that. In a way. He wondered if Draco was the hand-holding type. He didn't want to go the rest of his life without ever holding someone's hand.

Draco would just have to get used to that, he decided.

"Hey," he said, not even bothering to try to sound cheerful.

"Harry," Hermione said, leaning forward. So it was starting already. "What's with Malfoy? He seemed to have his sights set on you during Herbology."

"He was just staring at you," Ron grumbled, looking thoroughly confused and put out.

Harry sighed. It was as good a time as ever. Maybe the reaction wouldn't be so disastrous in a public place.

"I have to tell you both something, but I don't want you to get upset. Just hear me out because there's nothing you or I can do about it anyway."

Hermione and Ron both looked a little startled, but they both nodded and Ron gestured for him to go on.

"When I went to see Malfoy..."

"Oi, Harry!" cried Seamus, wriggling his compact body between Harry and the sixth year next to him. "Look what I had my mum owl me."

He slammed a book onto the table, and the noise drew everyone's attention. When Harry realised what the book was about...The Joys, according to the title, of Gay Sex...Harry turned it over quickly and glared at Seamus.

"You couldn't give this to me in the dorm room?"

"Now, what would the fun be in that?" Seamus laughed and rose, patting Harry heartily on the back.

Like with Ron, Harry was overtaken by a jolt of pleasure way too strong to be attributed to the likes of Seamus. Harry hissed, trying to ride out the sensation. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt. Sexual pleasure had always been associated with his cock, but this was different. This seemed to reach into his very core, and it made him weak enough that he was grateful to be sitting down.

"Enjoy!" Seamus said, laughing loudly and walking away. Harry watched him leave in dismay. Everyone was staring at his book, obviously desperate to know what was on Harry's reading list.

As Seamus excited the doors, Harry's eyes were drawn to Draco again. He watched as Draco rose with purpose, walking toward the doors Seamus had just exited through, a look of feral determination on his pale features.

"What were you going to say, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Er, just one second," he said, standing. "Here, take this." Harry thrust the book at Ron, who took one look at the cover and blanched, foisting it off on Hermione. She calmly put it in her book bag and shook her head at Ron.

Harry rushed down the aisle to catch Draco before Seamus got seriously hurt.

"Draco," he said as he approached. He looked back at the Hall; only a few people were watching, and they looked away as Harry continued to look at them pointedly.

Draco stopped, much to Harry's relief, and turned. "What is it, Potter? Need to borrow a belt, seeing as yours is worn through with notches?"

Closing the space between them, Harry said, "What are you talking about?"

"First Weasley, then that git, now me? Who's next for you...Slughorn?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron's my friend and Seamus was just giving me a book."

"What book?" Draco asked, as if doubting Harry could even read at all.

"It's about... you know... coming out. As gay." There was probably a chapter on that, anyway. Maybe before all the good stuff.

"You're coming out?" Draco was distracted, and Harry planned on exploiting that. Whatever possessive drama Draco had been about to instigate, Harry didn't want to indulge.

"I already came out to my house. I'm actually surprised it hasn't circulated enough to reach you."

"So then... Weasley and Finnigan. They know you're gay."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, they know. Listen, what the hell's going on with that bite mark? It's..."

Draco raised an eyebrow and waited. For some reason, Harry blushed under the direct gaze.

"I can feel it. When... things come into contact with it."

"Things."

"A couple people accidentally touched it, all right? Are you going to be all possessive like this forever? I don't know if I can stand it."

For a moment, Draco looked pained. "Be careful what you say. That sounded pretty close to a rejection."

Eyes wide, Harry stepped even closer. There was barely a foot of space between them, but Harry didn't really notice. "It definitely wasn't. I just really don't like you acting like that. Ron and Seamus are my friends."

"Your friends who touch you and gift you with books on homosexuality." Draco did not look impressed, and Harry was sure the expression was mirrored on his own face.

"You never had a friend pat you on the back? Never did anything that deserved congratulations?" Despite Harry's promise to himself, he was falling much too easily back into the childish back-and-forth that had sustained them for years.

How could they ever learn to be civil?

"Almost, once," Draco said, an ugly sneer transporting Harry to only a year before.

"Fuck you, Malfoy," Harry growled, narrowing his eyes at the painful allusion to Dumbledore.

Harry turned to walk away, yanking his arm out of the grip Draco put it in.

"Harry, wait a second."

There was just no point. They couldn't move past the past. It was too hard; there was too much bad blood between them.

"Harry!" Draco's shout silenced the hall.

"Just leave it!" Harry said, overwhelmed. But true to Draco's nature lately, he couldn't.

He walked up behind Harry and put a hand on his back. Harry gasped; the contact was infinitely more intense than when Ron or Seamus had inadvertently touched him. Tension bled from him as Draco's fingers smoothed over the area.

What had they been fighting about?

"Little mate, listen to me. Are you listening?" Draco turned Harry to face him. He was so... bright.

Harry nodded. Draco's voice was very low. He was going to tell Harry a secret, he just knew it. They were close enough now that Harry could taste Draco's breath if he'd wanted to.

"I don't mind you palling around with Weasley. But I don't like Finnigan, and I want you to steer clear of him."

"He's my friend," Harry protested weakly.

Draco's fingers pressed more insistently against the mark, and renewed pleasure coursed through Harry's throbbing veins. He nodded again.

"This mark is my claim. While it's healing, anyone who touches it will activate the magic, meaning that you'll feel pleasure from it. As much as that annoys me, it's meant to heighten my possessiveness so I'll complete the claiming as soon as possible."

"Complete the claiming? Didn't we do that?"

"You're mine; that's true." Draco smiled, and through the fog, Harry was shocked to note that it was genuine. "But the claiming needs to be consummated. And then we need to make a public declaration."

"That all sounds really complicated," Harry said. He squinted; were his glasses dirty? Draco seemed to be ensconced in some sort of white mist. He wondered if Draco knew.

"It's very simple, little mate." Draco's fingers were constantly manipulating the bite mark, sending spark after spark of abstract desire through Harry. "We should meet later tonight to discuss the details."

"Consummated... You mean sex, don't you?"

"I do."

"Will there be lots of that, do you think?"

"I should hope so."

"Will there be other stuff, too?"

"Like?" Draco purred, stepping even closer. The white mist increased, and Harry could barely keep his eyes open against it. Within his line of sight, there was only Draco.

"Like dates and letters and house-shopping and... holding hands."

"Would you like those things, Harry? Be honest."

"Yes," Harry said, his mental filter completely and irreparably defunct.

"Then you will have them. I will make you happy."

"Thanks, Draco. That's nice of you." Harry's head lolled back a little and he distantly heard a voice that sounded strangely like Hermione's. "When they touched me, it wasn't like this."

"Of course not, little mate. Only I can make you feel this way."

That made sense. Harry nodded. Then his stomach growled and he frowned. He hadn't eaten in a very long time. Hadn't he been about to?

"You skipped lunch," Draco said, voice heavy with disapproval. His fingers stopped moving on Harry's back, but continued to rest there.

The white mist began to melt away. "I'm starving."

"Let's get you some food then." Draco's hand fell away completely. He turned and began to walk toward the Gryffindor table.

The enormity of what had just happened slapped Harry right across his flushed cheeks.

"Malfoy!" he snapped, stopping him with a hand on his back.

Draco had a smile on his face when he turned. "Yes?"

"What did you do to me? You used your... veela charm shite on me!"

"Actually, I didn't, though I could have. The veela allure didn't work on you before we were mated; that's how I was sure it was you. But if I wanted, right now..."

Disturbed by the wistful look in Draco's eye, Harry cut him off. "Okay, that's very informative, but why did you do that?"

"I just wanted you to listen to me without prejudice for a few minutes. I explained a few things to my satisfaction and now I feel confident that we understand each other."

"Do not do that to me again if you want me to accept you."

Like before, Draco looked physically ill at the threat. "Don't say things you don't mean."

Harry sighed. "I do mean it, Draco. This thing between us, it's already stacked in your favour. I need to know that things will be as equal as possible. If you can just make me bliss out and do whatever you want, that's not the sort of relationship I want to be in."

"You were blissed out?"

"Goddamn it!"

"All right, all right. I'm sorry. I won't do that again. Unless you want me to. But Harry... I meant what I said, all right? I do want to make you happy. And not just... not only because it's in the veela's nature to please his mate."

Before Harry could sink his teeth into the words, Draco grabbed his hand.

Hand-holding! his heart screamed gleefully.

Hand-holding! his brain warned, panicking.

Draco led them over to Harry's seat. The two stood there for a few long moments while Harry tried to wrap his head around what was happening. It didn't seem like that was going to happening any time soon, so he took a seat, facing an aghast Ron and a very interested but not altogether surprised-looking Hermione. Draco sat as well, looking bored.

"Harry... Don't be alarmed. You've been cursed. Or maybe poisoned. Don't move; I'm going to go get Professor Sturn. He'll know what to do."

"Ron, sit down." Harry glared until Ron did as he asked. Then Harry gave a long-suffering sigh and said, "This was what I'd been about to tell you."

Draco turned to him, seeming surprised. "You were going to tell them about us?" He looked quite pleased.

"Yeah. I'm no good at keeping secrets and... well, I needed help. And support," he added, glancing at Ron who was staring at Harry, the whites around his irises showing.

"Harry, start from the beginning."

"Actually, Granger, Harry needs to eat. He can tell you all about the new development after."

Draco, oblivious to everything in the room, including the half-incredulous, half-disgusted glares from the Slytherin table, began dishing out a plate of food for Harry. He placed the now-full plate of food...all things Harry liked, too...in front of Harry, patiently waiting until he picked up a fork and knife and dug in with an apologetic look to his friends.

While Harry ate, Draco had an almost insufferably pleased look on his face. He crossed his arms over his chest and peered around the room, as if issuing a challenge.

Ron and Hermione were quiet while Harry ate, though neither made another effort at their own meals. Draco grabbed a roll for himself and buttered it generously. He shared Harry's water glass as Ron sputtered.

To Harry's embarrassment, Draco gave him a pleased nod when his plate was empty. Honestly. He cleared his throat, wishing his friends didn't look so expectant; that Ron didn't look so eager for Harry to say it was anything but what it looked like.

"Basically," Harry said, opting to just get it out and let them deal with it, "Draco is a veela and veelas need mates. Draco found his in me. I could have turned him down but I had to mean it, and I didn't. So now we're mated. We're together. Kind of like boyfriends."

"Not kind of like boyfriends," Draco corrected with a fierce look at Ron. "We are boyfriends."

Hermione exhaled sharply, shaking her head from side to side as she obviously tried to absorb Harry's abbreviated version of events.

Ron was a little more vocal. "You... how... Malfoy. Veela? When did... how could... You could have turned him down? Boy... friends?"

"Well, aren't you articulate," Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"Draco," Hermione said sternly, surprising everyone with her use of his first name. "Be nice to us or it will make Harry miserable."

Immediately, Draco lost his pompous look. His hand sought Harry's for more of that hand-holding business, and he actually looked contrite when he said, "You're absolutely right, Granger."

"And maybe you should try calling us by our first names, hmm? We're all going to be friends now, aren't we, Ron?"

"I don't think so, Hermione, to be honest," Ron huffed, placing his hands flat on the table. "Harry. I'm sorry if Hermione and I made you feel like a third wheel or something..."

Harry tried to interject, but Ron wasn't finished.

"That was never our intention. But this is Malfoy. Draco fucking Malfoy. Poisoned me, almost killed Katie? Countless uses of Unforgivables including an attempt at one against you? Let the Death Eaters into the school...got my brother mauled? Malfoy was on the side of the ones who killed Fred, Harry! Who got Sirius killed, who killed Remus and Tonks. He almost bloody killed Dumbledore!"

"He lowered his wand," Harry said meekly, his heart pounding.

It wasn't that he'd forgotten all of Draco's transgressions. They'd been swirling in the back of his mind all along. But having them tallied up like that made it seem so much worse. Hell, he didn't even know if Draco had taken the Dark Mark! How could he have been so irresponsible as to permanently bind himself to someone like that, knowing nothing about him except the bad?

"Harry," Draco whispered. He squeezed Harry's hand until he looked over.

"He's right, you know." Not that it changed anything.

"Harry..." At first, Draco addressed only him, but after a moment he looked to Hermione and Ron, including them in his speech. "I did do those things. I was stupid, cowardly, foolish, and wrong. Maybe you don't think I've paid for my choices. Maybe you don't think I can ever make up for the harm done, and maybe I can't. But I am sorry. You won't hear me say it again, and if that's not enough, I'll leave right now; Harry, you can make up your own mind about what you want to do next. But what I did was wrong. I regret it. I would do it differently. But I didn't take the Mark and I will never let anyone make my decisions for me again. And neither should Harry," Draco continued, looking pointedly at Ron. "Don't try to make up Harry's mind for him. He's smart enough to do it himself. Give your friend some credit."

Ron glowered on, and Hermione looked thoughtful. To Harry, Draco said, "You don't have to choose right away. Things have moved quickly, I know. But if you still want this, even a little, even if you're not entirely sure, meet me in front of the Room of Requirement at ten o'clock tonight. Just to talk. That's it, I swear."

Draco rose. Harry stared at the table.

"Weasley. Granger." In a lower voice, "Harry." And with that parting, Draco left the Great Hall.

After his exit, talk spiralled up all around them, almost deafening. But the trio remained silent: angry, uncertain, and confused.

*

"You're actually going?" Ron demanded as Harry got up from the couch in the common room.

"Of course I'm going, Ron. It's not like we can just break up. He could die."

"Harry's right," Hermione said gently, putting her hand on Ron's arm. "Harry needs to hear Draco out. And I'm not saying we should forgive him for everything he's done, but his contrition seemed genuine. We should at least think about it."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said, sighing. They'd been talking most of the evening, but it always circled back to Ron's initial arguments. It wasn't like Harry could deny what he said was true. That was the hardest part. Ron was right and there wasn't anything Harry could do about it.

"You're my best friend, Harry, and this doesn't change anything. But I don't trust him and I never will."

"Trust Harry, then," Hermione said.

Ron closed his eyes. "I do. Just be careful."

"I will be. Don't wait up for me, all right? This might take a while to hash out."

Hermione rose. "Just... remember that he only did what he was raised to believe was right. I don't agree with it, obviously, but I can understand how he got there."

"Well, Harry was raised with prejudiced Muggles and he didn't grow up hating wizards," Ron said sourly.

"But Harry is a wizard. Imagine if Harry had been a Muggle. He'd've grown up hearing the bigotry and may have come to think it was true...especially if he'd loved and trusted the Dursleys as Draco does his parents."

Shaking his head, Harry said, "I've got to go. Don't argue about this, all right? I don't want you two to fight."

They both smiled at him, making him feel better about leaving them.

"Don't worry," Hermione said. "We've fought about bigger stuff and survived."

That much was true. Harry gave a last look to Ron, who was pouting a little but at least didn't look as furious as he had before, and walked out through the portrait.

That his own feelings confused him wasn't shocking to Harry. He was rather used to having mixed emotions about things. But never about Draco. Draco had always been a constant in Harry's life, something to count on and never in a good way.

It wasn't that Ron had told him anything he didn't already know. He'd just been so caught up in the idea that he had a built-in partner for the rest of his life... never having to go on horrible, awkward dates, never having to cruise the bars, never falling for someone who didn't want him. Never having to break up...

Had he made the decision to avoid the type of pain that everyone experienced? Did that make him a coward?

So much of Harry's life had been uncertain. By this time the year before, he hadn't even thought he'd live long enough to experience anything that normal people took for granted. Now that everything was normal, why had he jumped at the chance to be different yet again? Hadn't he wanted to escape all that?

Harry realised that he'd been walking quite slowly, so he picked up the pace and took the stairs at a run, but once he faced the door that stood opposite the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy, he took a few moments to himself. To catch his breath... not to talk himself into going in.

He had to know what Draco thought about all this. Did Draco still hate him? Did being Draco's mate preclude that emotion? Had Draco forgotten all the things they'd done to each other over the years?

There were so many questions. Would he ever be able to ask them all?

Harry started when the door swung open. "Are you coming in?" Draco asked, trying to sound snide but mostly coming off nervous.

The thought that Draco was as uncertain as he was made Harry feel better. "I got this far, didn't I?" he asked rhetorically, ignoring the fact that he'd very nearly run right back to Gryffindor Tower where things were safe and certain.

"I suppose you did." Draco held the door open, and Harry passed through.

"Er..." Harry almost turned right around once he took in the contents of the room. Or content. A bed. A huge, wooden four-poster with black sheets. It looked very stable.

"When I passed in front of the door, I thought about what a good place to talk would be. I suppose I should have specified it wasn't that sort of talk. My mind was drifting a little, I'm afraid."

Nodding, Harry went to sit on the bed. He bounced a little on the supple mattress. Knowing nothing about thread count or anything like that, Harry couldn't comment on the quality of the bedclothes, but they felt very soft and cool. "We'll make do," he said, smiling at the way Draco's nervousness advertised itself.

After watching Draco pace for a few minutes, Harry decided to put him at ease. "Draco, I want you to know that, even though I think Ron was right, I still want this. You're not in danger of getting sick."

Almost faster than Harry's eyes could absorb, Draco sat beside him on the bed, close enough that the side of their thighs touched. When Harry looked at him, he saw that Draco was staring at his clasped hands. With some uncertainty, Harry placed one hand palm-up on his thigh. Draco took the unspoken invitation, his cool, slender fingers wrapping around Harry's thicker ones and folding over.

"I always knew," Draco said casually. They were both looking at their entwined fingers.

"Knew what?"

"About being a veela. It's a trait brought out by homosexuality, amusingly enough."

Harry frowned. "So if you'd been straight, you wouldn't have been a veela?"

"Exactly. My father wasn't one. Nor my grandfather. But there were a few further back in my lineage, though they obviously had wives and children despite their orientation. It doesn't dilute in the bloodline like other inherited traits. You're always just veela, though some people claim to be an eighth or a sixteenth, that's really just to make the whole thing less confusing for other people."

"So if all male veela are gay... how do you... you know? Make more baby veela?"

Draco rolled his eyes but gave Harry a fond look nonetheless. "There are a few veela colonies, made up of veela and their mates, and a male veela will, you know, suffer through a few evenings to perpetuate the race with the mated veela women."

"You mean the mates let their veela have sex with another veela?" Harry was so not okay with that. And it didn't seem necessary, really, since the line didn't dilute.

"It's more important to them to keep the race going. Keep it pure."

"You might as well know you won't be pollinating any veela ladies," Harry said, narrowing his eyes at Draco.

Draco chuckled. "I wouldn't want to. I'm happy with what I have. Quite surprisingly, really."

"It's not so bad," Harry conceded. Now that Ron and Hermione knew, even if they didn't exactly approve, Harry felt better about his decision.

The fact was, Draco had been much more agreeable than Harry had expected. Though things were a little awkward, it had been a rather seamless transition from enemies to mates. Every now and then Harry would look at Draco and an insult or hex would want to spring past his lips out of habit, but he'd quell the urge and the need to hurt him would transform into a less vibrant, more confusing need to just be with him.

"Anyway, as I said, I've had an idea my entire life, even before I really knew, about what would happen." Draco pursed his lips and seemed to think for a long moment. "It's different than I expected."

Harry nodded, their clenched hands at the foremost of his mind.

"I thought that if you said no, if you rejected me properly, I'd be relieved. Happy. I'd be able to find someone more suited. But I'm starting to think that it was you for a reason. And I always hated the idea of putting my life in someone else's hands, especially yours, but instead of being afraid of dying, I'm..."

Draco gave a nervous laugh, and it seemed loud in the relative silence. Harry was patient; he didn't know what else to do.

"You're what?" Harry prompted when it looked like Draco wouldn't finish the enigmatic thought.

"I'm just afraid of losing you. The rest, the sickness, is just... a given. That without you... there's nothing. I don't like that. It gives you too much control."

Deciding to reward the honesty with more of the same, Harry said, "We're both vulnerable here, Draco. I don't think either of us is in a position of power over the other, all things considered."

Taking his hand back, Draco shrugged. "At least my feelings are all mixed up with my instincts. I can blame the veela part of me for getting all..."

Harry knew Draco was thinking mushy, but Harry was thinking human.

Must be nice to have an excuse, Harry thought, a little put out at the thought that Draco was writing his emotions off as part of being a veela. Harry could only blame his desperately lonely childhood and love-barren existence since then.

That it was Draco didn't matter. That it was someone, someone who was Harry's, forever; that was all he cared about, he told himself. Harry tried not to grab Draco's hand back.

"So you wanted to talk about the things Ron said, I'm guessing?" Harry asked, forcing levity into his voice.

Draco's eyes were solemn. "I said I wouldn't apologise again, but I didn't mean to you. If you want to hear it again, or for something else, I'll do it, Harry. I don't really have a choice. I have to make you happy. It's like this burning need below the surface, and when I'm not trying to please you, I feel... less of a mate."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Draco, but I don't need all that. I know you're sorry. I just know. I knew even before all this happened, really. And I trust McGonagall. I don't think she would have let you back unless you proved to her you were properly sorry. I made a mistake with not trusting Snape even though the Headmaster did. I won't do that to someone again." Harry's stomach suddenly clenched. "But if you're somehow fucking with me, trying to get laid or humiliate me, I swear to Merlin I will kill you."

"Take it easy, Potter," Draco said, sneering. But the expression fell and he looked serious again. "You saw. You saw the wings; you felt the magic of the claim mark. This isn't a joke. And if it were, it'd serve better to humiliate me than you, wouldn't it?"

"What do you mean? Is your position somehow more embarrassing than mine?" Harry yawned and stretched out his feet. He crawled into the centre of the bed and lay down against the pillows. He'd been up before dawn to see Draco in the infirmary, and he was exhausted.

"I'm the one who has to bend over backwards for you," Draco reminded him. He, too, got into the middle of the bed and stretched out beside Harry so that they faced each other.

The position was alarmingly intimate, and Harry had to shuffle back a bit. Draco had been right about one thing: he had the benefit of his veela-ness to help forget about their past. For Harry, being that close to Draco was a little unnerving, like he had to remind himself that things had changed.

"So you have to do whatever I say, then?" Harry asked, grinning.

"Not quite, little mate," Draco said with a smile of his own. When he spoke again, it rather belied his first protestation. "Why? Is there something you want?"

Harry laughed. The idea of Draco waiting on him, serving him, was pretty funny. Until Harry's brain ran away with the idea of serving, and suddenly he wasn't laughing anymore. "No, no, I'm fine."

An awkward silence followed, during which Draco seemed to be trying to read Harry's mind. Then he smirked, and Harry's stomach dropped. Could Draco read his mind? Could veela do that? Shit...

"You want to kiss me," Draco whispered. The sound barely carried across the pillows, but Harry's entire body tightened when it reached him. Then Draco lost his smile, taking on a more predatory look. "No, you want me to kiss you. Don't you, little mate?"

Fearing that answering with words would cement his culpability, Harry nodded. He did want that. He hadn't even really known until Draco had said it, but there it was, bared between them.

Draco closed the space between them until they were sharing breath. The kisses they'd shared that morning seemed a lifetime away as Draco put his hand on Harry's waist; he pressed lightly for a moment, hesitant, and then gripped solidly. Draco used that grip to coax Harry onto his back.

Propping himself up on his elbow, Draco leaned over Harry, caging him in. "Tell me," he said, his lips close enough that Harry could tilt his head and make them his, if that was what he wanted.

"Kiss me."

Draco gave a triumphant smile for a split second before lowering his lips to Harry's. Unhurried, easy exploration followed, and Harry didn't do much beyond letting the kiss happen to him. It was strange, being the passive one. With Ginny, he'd always had to initiate the kisses, had to guide them. Now, he let Draco take over, falling against the pillows and just... experiencing.

"Good?" Draco asked, pulling back. He licked his lips, and Harry's eyes tracked the movement.

It was strange, somehow, to think that Draco Malfoy's lips had been on his. To think that they'd kissed. That they would do more. A lot more. Stuff that Harry didn't understand, had no experience with. Maybe even stuff that Harry hated... He felt his body tighten again, but not in reaction to Draco's touch.

What if he was terrible at sex? What if he hated it? From the quick glance at Seamus' book, it was clear that certain things weren't exactly comfortable. Would he be responsible for his own comfort, or would Draco... stretch him? Harry flushed just thinking the word; how was he going to handle Draco putting his fingers inside him?

"Good," he confirmed weakly. He tried to offer a smile, but his lips stuck to his teeth and it was a grimace instead.

"I can practically smell the worry on you," Draco said, his brows drawing together as he pulled back.

Harry breathed deeply, feeling better with more space. "This is all really new to me. Have you ever...?"

"Ever what?" Draco's hand stroked Harry's stomach, and his muscles clenched before relaxing under the gentle, non-sexual touch.

"Done this before? With a guy or girl?"

"Yeah."

Though he didn't want to admit it or examine it, Harry's stomach dropped below Draco's soothing fingers. "Which? Guy or girl?"

"Both." Draco sighed and stilled his hand, almost like he was holding Harry down. "The truth is, it's sort of in my nature to get that stuff out of the way when I'm young so that finding my mate is easier and I don't get restless later." He shrugged. "At least, that's what I read. I just think I was horny."

"So... a lot, then?"

"Depends on what you consider a lot. Enough that I won't hurt you, Harry."

Harry's eyes closed. He almost checked his own skin to make sure he wasn't really see-through. How could Draco know his thoughts and fears like that? It wasn't fair.

"I don't like to think that you were with other people," he admitted, even though it was stupid and immature and a little bit crazy, since this was Draco Malfoy he was talking about.

"I never thought of them as anything but practise. In my head, there was always this ideal, this perfect...for me, anyway...mate who would make everything... worth it."

"So you know what to do, then?" That, at least, was a relief.

"I do. Don't worry about that, little mate. I'll take care of you." Draco's grin was back. He seemed to smile a lot around Harry, which Harry liked.

"I've never done this..."

"I know that," Draco said. "And before you ask, I don't even know how. I just know. There are a lot of feelings like that. I know a lot about you without asking. Like how you wanted me to kiss you. And how you want me to do it again."

"So you want to do this tonight, then? Now?" The desire converging inside him and the anxiety threatening to overwhelm him were fighting a bloody battle.

As soon as Harry said the words, Draco's entire demeanour shifted. There was something feral, something basic about the way he was looking at Harry now. His eyes were almost lambent, and Harry couldn't look away.

"It has to be now," Draco said, his voice low and insistent. Practically a growl.

With that, Draco pushed Harry over onto his stomach, much like he had in the hospital bed. With a startled cry, Harry tried to lift himself up, but Draco's hand pressed between his shoulder blades and shoved him back down. Draco's fingers grazed the bite mark on Harry's back, and the pounding pleasure relaxed him enough to let Draco take control. He knew nothing of veela rituals; maybe this was part of it.

Without letting Harry up, Draco undressed him roughly, not even bothering to unbutton his trousers before yanking them from his hips.

"Hey!" Harry cried, half in protest, half in relief as his cock had more room to grow. There was no denying his arousal, even as his mind demanded better treatment.

Then Draco's cool hands were pulling his pants down, this time with less vigour. The air in the room was warm enough that his shiver was only situational, but Draco still rubbed his calves briskly as if to warm him up.

Harry was glad to be on his front...he'd never been naked in a sexual situation with anyone before. He was afraid his arousal would give him away, embarrass him. He pulled off his glasses and set them aside, now free to bury his face in the pillow to cool his heated cheeks.

"This is unexpected," Draco drawled, his hands now moving up Harry's legs and parting them so he could kneel between them.

"What?" Harry croaked. All he could think of was how much Draco could see in that position.

Skipping over his arse, Draco's hands started again at the small of his back, massaging, working their way to his tense shoulder muscles.

"How sexy you are," Draco said simply. There was a rustle of clothing and then a growling noise that was almost enough to frighten Harry before Draco draped the length of his body over Harry's.

It felt like there was nothing between them, not skin, not fear, nothing. They were a part of the same being. Harry's hands clenched on the bedclothes, unsure how to deal with the onslaught of emotion.

Then Draco sat up again. Harry turned to watch, resenting the lack of touch. Draco smoothed something slick onto his hand, tossing the bottle aside. Lubricant, Harry's helpful inner voice informed him, reminding him of the title of Chapter Seven of Seamus' book.

Draco's hands were almost clinical as they opened Harry, who had to look away. His heart was racing, but his erection was definitely flagging under the scrutiny and the embarrassment.

The first brush of Draco' slickened finger against his hole made Harry shout. He knew what to expect, in a sort of detached way, but the reality was almost too much. Shouldn't there have been more kissing, more touching? Less flipping Harry over and poking him?

The finger circled and stroked until Harry's abdomen unclenched and he let himself fall more naturally onto the bed. When Draco's fingertip pressed inside, the feeling was so foreign that Harry wanted to squirm right off the bed entirely. Draco's heavy, rhythmic breathing gave him something to focus on, so he matched their breaths as Draco continued to finger him.

"Okay?" Draco asked, shifting a little and nudging Harry's legs open wider.

Harry just nodded. In truth, though, he didn't really know if he was or not.

The difference between one finger and two was enough to make Harry gasp in discomfort. He waited for the intensity of the sensation to die, but it wouldn't...it wasn't until Draco's fingers began to move that the pain actually went away.

Having Draco's fingers inside him was so strange. His hole felt hot and tight, stretched to the limit, though he knew from when he'd felt it against his arse in the hospital bed that Draco was significantly thicker. He would have to take that.

"God, Harry, you look amazing. Wish you could see..." Draco's voice was thick, one of his hands tightening on Harry's arse cheek as the other continued to prepare him.

Harry could feel Draco spreading his fingers, but he couldn't feel himself loosen any further. He didn't want to panic, but he didn't feel far from it.

Then Draco touched something and everything changed.

"Oh, god!" Harry cried, his arse pressing back against Draco's fingers. "Again."

Draco gave a chuckle that turned into a moan as Harry continued to move with the touch, seeking that flash of want again.

Chapter Four, Harry realised belatedly as Draco stroked that spot again. His prostate. He wished he'd had time to do more than read the chapter headings, but put together with Seamus' uninhibited talk and Harry's own sporadic sexual education, he was sure that was what it was.

With a sigh, echoed by Harry, Draco pulled his fingers out. Harry saw him reach for the lubricant again, heard him apply it to his cock. This is the moment, he thought to himself. Losing his virginity was a big deal, even more so because it was to another bloke.

"Harry, are you ready? I can't really wait..."

Hearing the strain in Draco's voice, Harry nodded. "It's okay." As long as Draco could get that spot again, Harry knew he could manage.

Draco heaved a sigh of relief and Harry felt his cock nudge at his hole. For a few very uncomfortable moments of pressure, nothing happened. Then Draco jerked his hips forward, and Harry cried out, feeling torn. He tried to move away instinctively, to get away from the pain, but Draco held him steady and continued to push into him.

"Draco, stop, stop," Harry said, panting. Draco's hands didn't let up on his hips, but at least he stopped moving. "I can't, I'm sorry. Fuck, it really hurts."

Only the sound of heavy breathing answered Harry...that and the clenching of Draco's fingers, almost bruising.

"I'm sorry," Harry added in a small voice.

"If we don't do this, Harry..." Draco's voiced was decidedly tight and he seemed to be struggling with the words. "If I don't finish...if you don't finish, for that matter, this whole thing... it won't work."

Even just remaining still, feeling his arse clamp around Draco's cock made pearls of pain spiral up his spine. "We'll try again. I don't know, later. Please, Draco." Even as he said it, though, he was afraid. Would he be able to do it again, knowing it hurt so much? Wouldn't it be easier to get it over with now and never do it again?

How would Draco feel, being mated to someone who he couldn't fuck?

Draco began to pull out, but then Harry had an idea.

"Use the charm. The veela allure or whatever. You said you could, right? Do it, Draco. Please. It's okay."

"I'm not doing that," Draco said, continuing to pull out until Harry's body was left twitching and empty.

"Why not?" Harry demanded as he gingerly turned onto his back. His flaccid cock lay rather sadly on his thigh, not even swelling a little as Draco stared at it. "I want you to. That makes it okay."

"It's like rape," Draco said, voice flat and encouraging no argument.

"No, it's not. It's like... just another preparation method, like lube and stretching. And I want you to do it. I want to be mated to you." Harry pulled Draco down beside him, wrapping his arms around Draco's neck and bringing their bodies in close. Harry was surprised to find Draco was still aroused. He moved his hand down and gently cupped Draco's sac, his thumb caressing the sensitive skin. "It's okay," he whispered.

Draco's eyes were glowing with some strange fire; Harry couldn't look away.

"I wanted your first time to be perfect. I wanted our first time together to be just right."

Harry sighed. "It's already too late for that. But I don't want to give up. Just use the charm and fuck me." He rolled his hips against Draco, his cock thickening a little at his crass words and the abstract idea of having sex with Draco.

When Draco kissed him, Harry was eager and quick to open his mouth, accepting Draco's tentative tongue. He was kissing like he wasn't sure he'd be allowed to, but Harry quickly disabused him of that notion, encouraging the kiss with little licks and nips of his own.

This time, Draco pushed him onto his back, settling between his thighs, their cocks trapped between their bellies. The kiss shifted from coaxing to demanding, and Harry was happy...probably too happy, he rather thought...to just submissively accept it.

"You smell so good, little mate," Draco whispered, his nose pressing against Harry's neck. He inhaled deeply, a sound akin to a purr rumbling from him.

Harry laughed and arched into the touch. Draco's hands were all over him again, and it was less frightening this time, face to face. When Draco's mouth moved to Harry's nipple, he cried out, shocked by how sensitive he was. Draco took note, circling the peak and blowing cool air over it, then taking it between his lips and squeezing before finally sucking it into his mouth. Harry moaned as Draco's teeth scraped against the tender flesh. His mind was further lost when Draco repeated the treatment on his other nipple. Harry's hands grabbed anything and everything he could, tugging at Draco's fine blond strands, digging his nails into Draco's back, pulling and pushing and demanding and surrendering all at once.

"Want more?" Draco asked with an almost cruel smile, sliding down Harry's body and hovering over his straining cock.

"Fuck, yes," Harry hissed, trying to jerk his hips up toward that vicious, loving mouth.

Having none of that, Draco held Harry down by the hips. He licked a stripe up Harry's desperate erection and then pulled back to see Harry's face. He had to close his eyes; it was too much. Draco, his mate, his lover... "Please," Harry said, not ashamed to beg.

"Since you ask so prettily," Draco said. He bent and took the head of Harry's cock into his mouth, immediately pressing his pointed tongue into the slit and making Harry thrash despite Draco's hold on his body.

Draco didn't seem to have the intent of making Harry come. He licked and nibbled, and when he sucked, it was only for a moment before letting up. His tongue pressed against the prominent vein on the underside of Harry's cock, the one his fingers would stroke when he wanked. Draco seemed to know everything about him, everything he liked, everything he hated; he seemed to do both in equal measure, drawing a near-sadistic pleasure from Harry's reactions.

Fingers grazed the still-sore rim of Harry's anus, and he whimpered a little until Draco's mouth moved to his balls, pulling the skin between his lips and tugging until Harry wanted to demand mercy. He almost didn't notice when the first finger slipped inside. When Draco didn't move the finger, Harry relaxed again, falling back into the pleasure of Draco's mouth all over him.

Even the second finger wasn't so bad, especially when Draco sought and found his prostate and gave Harry just enough to keep his mind off what was about to happen.

But he couldn't avoid it any longer when Draco rose over him, encouraging Harry's legs around his waist. Harry locked them behind Draco's back. He was nervous...afraid, almost...but he knew that the allure would take care of his pain. Or so he hoped, anyway. He actually had no real idea how it worked.

One of Draco's hands found its way beneath Harry's back, supporting his weight. Harry offered his mouth for a kiss, needing reassurance more than anything.

"I'm going to start now, okay?" Draco said after pressing a hard kiss to Harry's mouth.

"You're going to use the charm, right?" Harry hated the fear in his voice, but he couldn't mask it, not with everything else being so real.

Without answering, Draco seemed to concentrate, and a moment later, everything was less consuming. Harry had to close his eyes against the lightness; it was almost dizzying. The rational part of his brain was still somewhat intact; he could have asked Draco to stop if he'd needed to.

Probably.

It wasn't like the bite mark on his back. That was a more obedient sensation. It made Harry want to give everything up and let Draco bring him untold pleasures. This was less encompassing. Everything just felt... right. And Draco was really, really beautiful. Like... impossibly so.

"I defeated Voldemort," Harry said dreamily, smiling up at Draco, who laughed. That was good, making Draco laugh.

"Yes, and thank you for that," Draco said.

Somewhere beyond his immediate being, there was some discomfort. A pressure. So full. Burning. And then it just... went away.

Draco was so amazing. He made everything better. How had Harry ever caught such a specimen? How could he ever keep him? Harry was just some orphan; he wasn't particularly smart or even all that powerful, all things considered.

"I have a lot of money," Harry said hopefully.

"Shh, Harry," Draco murmured, his eyes strangely bright. He was moving on top of Harry, and Harry was moving too...they were moving together and that meant they were together. Harry had Draco for now...he was all his.

Then Draco slowed down, and they weren't moving together anymore. A brief flare of panic alit Harry's senses before he realised Draco was talking and he really should be listening.

"What?"

"I'm going to lift the allure."

"Oh, okay." Wait. "No!" But Harry couldn't remember why that was a bad idea. "Okay," he said again, uncertain.

The veil seemed to lift in sections. The last thing to come back to him was the pain in his arse. Actually, it hadn't come back at all. There was a soreness, sure, but his cock was rock-hard and though he felt Draco within him, it wasn't bad.

"Are you all right? Can I keep going?" Draco asked, looking strained.

It took Harry a second to realise he had to answer. "I'm okay, really."

Draco leaned over and kissed him, and the shift of angles brought Draco's cock right against his sweet spot, making him cry into Draco's mouth. Recognising what he'd done, Draco stayed in that position, rocking slowly. Harry looked up at him in wonder, amazed that Draco had done so much to get him ready and to make things good. He was glad Draco had removed the allure; this was something he wanted of his own free will.

Draco's hand was on his cock, tugging almost too harshly, but Harry rocked up into the grip, wanting to come. The pain of his first experience nearly forgotten, all that was left was his own desire to come, and the even stronger need to make Draco come.

"So good," Harry panted, still amazed. He leaned up for another kiss, letting Draco rule his mouth as they moved together as though they had for centuries.

The familiar tightening of his balls was almost unwelcome because it meant it had to end, but Harry knew, both intellectually and somewhere deep within his soul, that doing this with Draco now meant they could do it together forever.

It was that thought, even more than Draco's expert grip and steady thrusts that brought Harry over the edge, shouting out in abandon, uninhibited and unembarrassed.

When Harry opened his eyes, Draco was staring at him. That made him blush, and just when he'd thought himself incapable. To avoid scrutiny, Harry pulled Draco down for a kiss, his hands searching out Draco's firm arse, squeezing it in time with his thrusts.

Draco's climax was soundless, making Harry a little shy about the noise he'd made, but his face was scrunched up and adorable, his sharp white teeth biting an already red lower lip. When he was finished, he went limp enough that Harry gasped for breath, crushed.

He manoeuvred Draco off of him and curled up along his side. He was hot and tired and stiff and sore and wet... and he'd never felt so completely at home in his entire life.

After some time, it was apparent that Draco was actually sleeping and not just in some post-coital nirvana, so Harry pulled the sheets over them both. They'd be in trouble if they were caught, but now that he had Draco, that stuff wasn't really important.

"Good night," Harry said, chuckling at Draco's peaceful sleep-face. He went to lie on his back, but merciless arms reached and pulled him back, shifting him until he was laying half on top of Draco, his head resting on Draco's chest.

"G'night, little mate. And thank you."

Harry kissed the skin beneath his cheek before settling in. He didn't know what Draco was thanking him for, but he had the same, strange and giddy urge to thank him back.