1  The Night Before

Lucius Malfoy sighed and fingered his drink, staring into the fireplace. It was the night before Draco was returning to Hogwarts, and he was sitting in his favorite armchair in the study at Malfoy Manor, doing some very serious thinking. He had been doing serious thinking ever since his arrest in June and his subsequent imprisonment in Azkaban for most of the summer. Luckily for him, being a Malfoy had some advantages, like not staying in prison due to a multitude of personal and political connections. Unfortunately, however, the Malfoy name was now tarnished, having come to be associated with Death Eaters, Lord Voldemort, Dark Magic and everything that is utterly evil to most good wizards.

"Ignore them, Draco," was Lucius's advice to his son when his son had bitterly complained about recent public opinion and being blacklisted from all the good Slytherin parties over the summer.

"But Daddy," Draco had whined, "Why did you have to go off joining You-Know-Who in the first place? Wasn't it obvious that he's off his rocker? Yes, he's right evil and powerful and all that, but honestly, Harry sodding Potter has beaten him almost every year for the past five years running. Doesn't that say something to you?"

Lucius response to his son had been to glare at him and throw back another shot of vodka. Draco had rolled his eyes and stomped off to complain to his mother about having fancy new dress robes and no place to wear them.

Ever since his arrest, Lucius had been mulling the whole Voldemort vs. Potter situation over in his head. He couldn't shake the feeling that maybe Draco was on to something. Harry Potter did seem to be foiling the Dark Lord at every turn. Lucius had so far chalked it up to coincidence but maybe there truly was something more.

It was a nagging thought that never really seemed to leave his brain. Lord Voldemort had been most anxious for Lucius to resume his services, but so far the senior Malfoy had stalled him, claiming he was under suspicion from the Ministry and he needed to keep a clean record until he was back in the public's good graces. He pointed out he was much more valuable to the Dark Lord when he was trusted and respected by the general public, and Lord Voldemort had grudgingly agreed.

He didn't dare think what would happen if he told the Dark Lord the truth; that he was stalling him because he was really having doubts about which side was going to work for because obviously he wanted to be on the winning side.

Because winning: that was really the big motivating factor for a Malfoy - not necessarily being on the dark side, or the light side, or the right side, or the wrong side. No, the big motivation was to be on the winning side, and loath as he was to admit it, a tiny little voice in the back of Lucius's mind was beginning to suspect that the winning side might be the one with Dumbledore and Harry Potter on it.

He needed to come to a decision, and soon. Lucius brooded into the fire, and his mind kept coming back to the same question: Why Harry Potter? What was so special about the boy? Why was he able to do what no other wizard had ever done, and defy Voldemort again and again?

And Lucius had an idea. The Malfoys, being an archetypal pure-blood family, had an extensive collection of wizard genealogical books. Every wizarding family since the Dark Ages had their family history well documented in the Malfoy library. This helped Malfoys figure out whom to marry. Why had he never thought to look up the Potters before? Their family line was almost as ancient and pure as the Blacks or the Malfoys.

Lucius threw back the rest of his drink and headed for his library.

''''''''''''''''''''''''

I don't believe it, Lucius thought to himself, but there it was, plan as day, something so bloody obvious that he should have figured it out long before. Well, that makes my decision much eaiser.

He penned a quick letter to Dumbledore and explained everything, asking for the chance to meet and talk with him face to face. He rolled up the letter, put some anti-detection spells on it for safety, and called for his favorite owl.

Once the letter was sent, he steeled himself to talk with his family. He knew Narcissa would be thrilled - she had never really liked that "horrid, creepy Dark Lord" anyway. She had refused to become a Death Eater, saying she was much too pretty for such a horrible tattoo and wasn't too fond of the Crutiatus curse either.

He wasn't entirely sure what Draco's reaction would be when he told him that they were switching sides, although he rather suspected Draco had no intention of ever joining the Death Eaters anyway. He knew of his son's rivalry with Harry Potter and figured that might be the one hitch in getting Draco to agree, but he was confident that he could work around that. He made his way to Draco's bedroom and knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

Lucius opened the door into his son's room, which was surprisingly tastefully decorated for a teenage boy. Soft leather sofas with matching throw pillows, sparkling fountains that leant a soothing, almost zen-like atmosphere to the room, and the one touch that let you know it was a teen's room - posters of professional Quidditch players all over the walls by the bed.

Of course, the posters happened to all be of men, and some of the best looking men in the league at that, and most of them were posing in clothes that were quite a bit more revealing than their Quidditch robes.

Draco was currently sprawled on a sofa, deeply involved in a Wizard Vogue, a fashion magazine for men.

"Hullo, Dad. Did you need something?" Draco queried, not looking up from his magazine, and Lucius thought it best to come straight to the point.

"Draco, son, we're switching teams."

"Um, not to be rude or anything, but I switched teams years ago, remember? I've never liked girls."

Lucius blinked a couple times. "That wasn't what I meant."

Draco looked puzzled for a second, and then it clicked. "Ooooh, we're not working for You-Know-Who anymore. We're defecting to Dumbledore's side, is that it?"

"Well, essentially yes. Now son, I know you may be shocked by this but -

"Thank Merlin! I was so dreading the horribly clichéd 'but Daddy, I don't want to be a Death Eater' conversation and now we'll never have to have it." Draco turned back to his magazine.

Lucius was a little surprised. "Well, that was easy. I thought you'd put up a bit more of a fight. I know much you hate Harry Potter."

"Oh God yes, I hate Potter. Hate him like mad. But it's not like I have to like him to be on his side. And better him than You-Know-Who. Potter's at least passably good looking, if you're into that messy-haired, boy-wonder type look."

"Well…yes, I suppose that's true." Lucius really didn't know what else to say. Draco smiled charmingly at his father.

"So, is that it then?"

"You're not going to ask why we're switching sides?"

Draco shrugged. "Nah. I'm sure you've got a good reason." He flipped through his magazine until he found the picture he was looking for. "Look at him, Dad. Antonio Cassetti. Chaser. Played on the Italian National Team a couple years back. Gorgeous, isn't he?"

Lucius looked at the dark-haired Quidditch player wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts and winking at the camera. "Um…sure, son. Gorgeous."

"You're coming to Hogwarts with me," Draco said affectionately to the picture, and got up to place the magazine in one of his school trunks near his bed. Lucius watched his son for a moment. Over the summer Draco had become almost uncannily good looking. Lucius and Narcissa were both very striking people, but Draco really took things to a whole new level. His hair had lightened until it was nearly white, and shone with an unnatural shimmer. His skin almost seemed to glow, and his previously slate grey eyes had become metallic silver. The whole effect was…otherworldly, to say the least.

Lucius shook his head. So he had a preternaturally gorgeous son who also happened to be flamingly gay. Rather a loss for the witches of the world, but this was by far the least of his worries. Lucius figured this might be a good time to retreat back into his study. After all, he had things to do, people to see, Dark Lords to double-cross.

It was funny, really, that neither Lucius Malfoy nor Draco Malfoy had ever noticed that every single Quidditch player posted on Draco's walls had black hair.

2 Back to Hogwarts

Draco watched dispassionately as the house elves carried his trunk up the platform towards the Howarts Express. He was actually rather looking forward to being back in classes after a long, dull summer at the Manor. Oh, sure, he'd have to put up with taunts and such from the other houses about his dad's Death Eater status, but his dad was out of prison now and working to restore the family name, so that wouldn't go on for too long. Besides, he may as well get used to these people, he was on their side now whether they knew it or not.

"You can't tell anyone we've switched, Draco," his dad had admonished him during the ride in their town car to King's Cross station. "I'll be working as a spy most likely, and I cannot have my cover blown."

"Yes, Dad," Draco had rolled his eyes in exasperation. "We've been through this. I'm not going to 'blow your cover' like we're in some bad muggle movie. Give me a little credit here."

"Since when do you know anything about muggle movies?" his dad had asked curiously, and Draco had suddenly become very interested in his magazine (Dragons and the Hunks Who Tame Them). He wasn't about to confess his sudden, intense crush on Irish actor Colin Farrell. All that gorgeous, messy black hair and delicious, glowing skin. Now if he would just wear glasses then he'd really be hot.

Having said his goodbyes to his father, Draco could be found boarding the Hogwarts Express and heading towards the prefect's compartment. He was anxious to see his friends, whom he hadn't seen since June. He walked up the aisle, noticing the blatant stares he seemed to be getting from all the other students.

"Well, I am gorgeous," he thought to himself, shrugging it off. "Suppose they can't really help it."

He reached the compartment and slid the door open, revealing a mix of sixth year students from all the houses. Pansy Parkinson saw him and her jaw dropped.

"Draco! My God! What happened to you?" She was almost drooling.

"What?" Draco asked, aware that he had gone through a few changes over the summer but not convinced that they were all that big a deal.

"You look incredible," Pansy spoke in awe. "Did you take a potion or something?"

'WHAT? No, of course not, don't be daft," Draco huffed. He glanced around the compartment and raised an eyebrow. It seemed as if Pansy wasn't alone in her awe; every student in the compartment was staring at him the same way, with a mix of lust and awe, like he was seventy inch slab of the world's most coveted chocolate.

Draco thought for a moment. He had changed a bit, it was true. Both his parents had mentioned it. His hair was lighter, his facial features more refined, and his body…Draco had been thrilled to discover that somehow a summer spent lounging about eating massive amounts of sweets had left him with rock-hard abs.

He knew he looked really good, but even he, vain as he was, hadn't expected this reaction. He took a seat next to Pansy and smiled at her. She almost swooned.

"Guess I'm just growing up," Draco said, lazily stretching out, noting with pleasure that everyone was watching him intently. Even parts two and three of the Gryffindor Wonder Trio couldn't take their eyes off of him, something he found hilarious to no end.

"Granger, Weasel, I know I'm hot, but kindly stop ogling me like a piece of meat. I have feelings, you know," he smirked, and the two in question jumped in their seats. Hermione flushed pink and buried her nose in a huge book on her lap, and Ron opened his mouth to make some sort of angry retort but was saved by the arrival of Justin Flinch-Fletchley.

"Oy, Ron, Hermione, Harry's just outside and he wanted a word." He did a double take. "Malfoy, what the hell happened to you? You're bloody gorgeous." Ron and Hermione dashed out of the compartment, sending glares at both Draco and Justin. The blonde nearly laughed out loud with glee. He could get used to this.

Hushed voices could be heard just outside the door, where presumably Potter was talking to the Mudblood and the Weasel. Draco was just pulling out his magazine when he heard it - the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard in his life. It sounded a bit like laughter, but it was so much more than that. The sound floated through the compartment and straight into Draco's blood, where a glow seemed to fill his entire body. He stood up, desperate to find the source of that sound. It had to be just outside the door, and he was certain if he didn't find it then he would just die. He stood to run into the corridor when something stopped him.

He whirled around to find Pansy gripping his robes. "Pansy, I have to go! Let go!" But the girl didn't seem to hear him.

"Draco, did I tell you I've been made Head Girl?" she asked in a dreamy sort of voice, batting her eyelashes. Draco gave her a funny look.

"No you haven't, we're only sixth years, and everyone knows that stupid Mudblood is going to be Head Girl, now let go!"

"And I've made a fortune through modeling, I've been on the cover of every wizarding magazine there is," she continued as if Draco hadn't spoken.

"That's a lie!" the female Ravenclaw prefect shouted. "But I've invented a new spell that can rid the world of evil in a single moment! It's made me richer than anyone other wizard on earth!"

"Ha, you wish! That's nothing! I took out a fully transformed werewolf just last week, and now I've just become the youngest Auror in history," Justin Finch-Fletchly retorted, gazing at Draco with a faraway, unfocused stare.

"There is something wrong with all of you," Draco sniffed disdainfully. "You've all gone stark, raving mad. I'm going." He could feel that warm glow the laughter had caused fading from his body and he wanted to scream in frustration. He yanked himself out of a dazed Pansy Parkinson's grasp and ran out into the corridor only to come face to face with Ron and Hermione.

"Where are they?" he demanded, too anxious now to care who he was speaking to.

"I'm sorry?" Hermione queried, looking confused.

"The person who was laughing! Where are they? They were right here, I heard them!"

Hermione shot a quick, puzzled glance at Ron. "You mean Harry?"

"What?"

"Harry. He was out here with us and Ron told him a joke and he was laughing. That must be who you're talking about. Look," she asked tentatively, "is everything okay?"

But Draco wasn't listening anymore. There was no way that sound could have come from Potter. No bloody way.

He sneered at Hermione. "It wasn't Potter. It couldn't have been."

Ron was getting angry. "There was no one else out here but the three of us, Malfoy. Now what the hell is your problem?"

Draco glared at the pair of them. "There was someone else, I heard them. But obviously you were too absorbed in your filthy mudblood girlfriend to see who it was."

Ron roared in fury and the monstrous oaf lunged at Draco, who quickly twisted out of reach. Hermione cried, "Ron, stop!" and ran to his side to try and stop him from attacking Draco again. At that moment, Pansy poked her head out of the compartment.

She saw Ron and Draco glaring daggers at each other over Hermione's head and rolled her eyes. "Are you guys fighting again? Honestly, you're like children. Now come on, we're trying to get started with the meeting here."

Draco waved her off. "You go on, I have to go."

"But Draco, you're going to miss the meeting!"

"I. Don't. Care!" he shouted, now dashing down the corridor, determined to check every compartment if he had to, to find the source of that beautiful, musical laughter.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Harry Potter was sitting by himself in the very last compartment, reading a book and waiting for Ron and Hermione to get back from their prefect meeting. It wasn't a very interesting book, and after a bit he yawned and stretched out his long limbs.

Harry noted with amusement (and a great deal of pleasure) that the seats on the Hogwarts Express seemed a bit smaller this year. He might not be quite as tall as Ron but he was taller than the twins and Charlie, and he was a very far cry from the runty, underfed midget who had started at Hogwarts five years ago.

He had just gone back to his book when he heard the door to the compartment bang open. "Wow, that was fast. Meeting's already over?" he asked, looking up and expecting to see his two best friends walking in. Instead he saw something that made his heart stop.

"Malfoy?" he asked incredulously, not believing that this flaxen haired Adonis who had just entered his compartment was really his rival of five years.

Draco was staring back at him.

"Potter?" he asked, just as incredulously.

The two boys just gaped at each other. Harry was completely stunned. He could have sworn that when he left last term Malfoy did not have those eerie silver eyes and moonlight colored hair, and he was positive that Malfoy had not been practically glowing the way he was now. There was something almost inhuman about Malfoy; something that made Harry want to do crazy things, spectacular things, just anything that would get his attention.

He was gorgeous; unearthly and beautiful. In that moment, Harry felt like he was falling in love.

'''''''''''''''''

Draco couldn't move; he couldn't speak, he couldn't breathe. His heart was thudding in his chest, and his entire body was on fire. Someone, at some point over the summer, had replaced the annoying git Potter with the most gorgeous being he had ever laid eyes on. Harry's messy hair had never looked so soft, and his eyes had never looked so green. Desire began to spread through every cell in Draco's body as he stared at the Gryffindor.

After several moments of rather awed silence on both Harry and Draco's part, Draco finally gathered his composure and cautiously entered the compartment. He casually sat down across from Harry, trying to ignore the thudding in his chest and the fire in his veins. To his relief Harry didn't seem to be spouting any nonsense like the other sixth-years. He just seemed to be unable to take his eyes off of Draco.

The sexual tension between the two enemies in the compartment was so thick you could have cut it with a knife.

"So…" Draco began, racking his brain for something neutral to say to this gorgeous creature across from him. For the first time in five years, he was not keen on antagonizing Potter. "Nice weather we're having."

Harry raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, it is," he replied carefully, as if he were also not keen on antagonizing Draco. The two boys studied each other warily, as one might a dangerous animal, unsure if they are going to retreat or attack. After a moment, being the brave Gryffindor that he was, Harry gave conversation another shot.

"So…how was your summer?"

Draco shrugged nonchalantly, aware that he was rather blatantly staring at Harry's arms and chest through his muggle t-shirt but unable to stop. "It was alright, I guess. Yours?"

"Alright as well." The two boys studied each other some more. Neither said a word. The inherent strangeness of the situation was rather lost on the two involved, as neither was really forming coherent thoughts anymore.

Mine. I want him. He's mine. He's gorgeous. He's perfect. Mine. Draco's thoughts swirled about his head; thoughts brimming with lust, and startling in their possessiveness. He was quite sure he had never, ever wanted anything as badly as he now wanted Harry Potter.

Suddenly, the door to the compartment slid open, and the two boys blinked as their trance was broken.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"Blimey, Harry, do you always have to sit in the very last com…part…?" Ron's voice trailed off, as he and Hermione walked into the compartment and found their best friend apparently having a staring contest with his schoolyard rival, who was still astoundingly gorgeous and almost seemed to be…glowing.

Harry blinked twice, then shook himself out of his daze. "Hey Ron, Hermione, how was the meeting?" he asked, forced home from the planet he had been living on where no one existed but him and Draco.

To his surprise, his friends weren't listening.

"Did I tell you I've been named Head Boy, Quidditch Captain, and the newest winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award?" Ron was saying in a spacey voice, his face oddly slack.

"What?" Harry was very confused. Draco rolled his eyes and muttered, "Honestly," under his breath.

"That's nothing," scoffed Hermione. "I've been recognized as the smartest witch of our times, and they're building enormous libraries in my honor." She gave Draco a flirtatious smile, and he managed to look both alarmed and amused at the same time.

"Malfoy, have you done something to my friends?" Harry asked, worried and upset at how his friends were behaving. Draco looked at him disdainfully.

"I didn't do anything, Potter. Maybe your friends have finally realized how pathetic they truly are and have decided to become compulsive liars to hide their inadequacies."

To Harry's surprise Draco immediately clapped a hand over his mouth, looking horrified at what he'd said. Still, it was too late, as Draco's offensive comment made all the reasons Harry hated Malfoy rushed back into his head.

"Shut up, Malfoy, and whatever it is you're doing to them, stop it. Stop it right now," he ordered in a very angry and authoritative voice.

"I'm not doing anything," Draco seethed, but at the moment Ron and Hermione seemed to come back to themselves. They gave each other and Harry some confused looks.

"What the hell just happened here?" Ron asked, looking at Hermione, who also looked completely puzzled. Harry turned to glare at the blonde.

"I don't know. Why don't you tell us, Malfoy?"

"I'm told you Potter, I wasn't doing anything! I don't know what happened, okay?" Draco might have seemed honest enough, but Harry knew Malfoy had an impressive track record of lying.

"Oh right, Ron and Hermione walked in here and just decided to start making things up for no apparent reason, is that it?" Harry was getting pissed off now.

"Hey, don't expect to understand how their wretched little minds work," Draco snapped back. "I'm sure that even if I tried I couldn't sink that low."

The moment the words were out of Draco's mouth the blonde winced, but Harry just narrowed his eyes response. All of the sexual attraction that Harry had been feeling just a moment ago disappeared in an instant as Draco insulted Harry's friends. Drop dead gorgeous or not, Draco was the same insufferable arsehole he had always been.

"Bullshit, Malfoy. Were you using the Imperious curse on them or something? I wouldn't put it past you."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean, Potter?"

"It means you're a selfish, arrogant bastard, and I wouldn't put it past you to use an Unforgivable on your own classmates." To Harry's immense surprise, for a moment Draco looked completely stricken. Then the moment passed, and Draco was sneering at him.

"Calling them classmates is a bit of stretch, don't you think? All I see is a worthless, dirt-poor weasel and a filthy mudblood whore."

Ron and Hermione whirled around in anger and leapt to each other's defense, going for their wands, but Harry beat them to it.

"Get out," he spat, jumping up from his seat, fists clenched, green eyes flashing dangerously.

"Make me," Draco snarled up at him.

In a heartbeat, Harry's wand was pointed straight at Draco's chest.

"I said GET OUT, Malfoy."

''''''''''''''''''''''

Draco could never really be sure afterwards if he had left because he was scared or if he had left because of something else. Either way, he didn't even take time to glare at the trio before he obeyed Harry's command.

He slunk away to find a compartment with some of the other Slytherins, a painful clenching in his chest. For the first time in his life, he cursed his sharp tongue. Insulting Harry and his friends was a force of habit; he really hadn't meant to do it. He hadn't wanted to make Harry angry.

Harry's words kept playing in his head: "GET OUT, Malfoy…selfish, arrogant bastard…." They hurt so much, and Draco didn't know why. Since when did he care what Potter thought about him? He spent the rest of the ride to Hogwarts staring morosely out the window, feeling hurt and rejected and wondering what the hell had just happened.

Draco didn't see Harry again until the welcoming feast. He knew that everyone in the Great Hall seemed to be staring at him in varying degrees of lustfulness, but he found he no longer cared. All he could do was stare at Harry. He watched him smile and laugh with all his friends, saying hello to all the new students in his house, tolerating the inevitable fans that swarmed around him like moths to a candle. He was friendly and caring and compassionate - to everyone except Draco. For some reason, he and Harry had never been anything but enemies, and it looked like things were going to stay that way.

Draco wanted to cry, and he berated himself for his weakness. What the hell is the matter with me? Why the fuck do I keep staring at Potter? Why do I wish I hadn't insulted his friends? Why do I want him so badly?

Want him? Draco Malfoy wanted Harry Potter, and the word "dead" no longer ended that sentence? This was bad. This was very, very bad.

Draco's sucked in his breath as Harry laughed at something Seamus Finnigan had said. It was getting worse. He could have lived with wanting Potter for his body, for a one-night stand, for just sex, but he wanted Harry for so much more. He wanted to be the one to make him laugh, to hold him when he cried, to see what he looked like first thing in the morning, to -

Draco had had enough. He couldn't take it anymore. Somehow, somewhere along the line since he crawled out of his bed this morning at Malfoy Manor and arrived here at Hogwarts the unthinkable had happened: he had fallen in love with Harry Potter.

He bolted from the Great Hall for the safe haven of his room, where he could be away from that presence at the Gryffindor table that was tormenting him more than he could bear. He knew that hundreds of hungry eyes were following him as he ran, but he didn't care. There was only one pair of eyes that he wanted, and that pair of eyes hated him.

'''''''''''''''''''''

Back in his room, Draco tried to get a handle on himself. This is just a crush. A silly, schoolboy crush on the Boy-Who-Lived. Everyone gets one; it's nothing to worry about. It will go away. Draco would not fall in love with Harry Potter. He was Draco Malfoy. He could beat this.

Besides, it's just today, he reasoned. Potter got tall, has a little more muscle, looks good. I'm just attracted to him because he's grown up a bit since last term. It's pure, sexual attraction and NOTHING ELSE.

Feeling a bit more cheerful, Draco decided to drive that thought home. He dug through his school trunk, pulling out all the pictures he had collected of Quidditch players over the summer to put on his wall.

Potter wasn't the only fish in the sea. He wasn't even the only man Draco fancied. Here was a whole stack of men he found just as fit as Harry. He wasn't in love with Potter, and here was proof. Right?

He looked at the first one and sighed. This was not good. Yes, he found the dark-haired man in the photo hot, but not nearly as hot as Potter. His hair was black like Harry's, but it didn't have that sheen that Harry's seemed to have.

He pulled out the next picture. Again, not quite right. He was good-looking enough, but he didn't hold a candle to Potter. He also had messy black hair, but it just wasn't messy in the right way. It was an "I couldn't be bothered with a brush" messy, versus Harry's delicious "post-shag" messy. He looked at his third and fourth pictures, and suddenly felt very nervous.

More black hair. Messy black hair. Oh God.

Draco quickly dug through his pictures. Black hair, black hair, black hair. Draco flipped through them all, panic rising in his chest. He hadn't picked only pictures of black haired Quidditch players, it was impossible.

Impossible.

He had not been secretly obsessed with black hair for ages, and by extension - Harry Potter.

He tore through every picture and then sighed in utmost relief. There, at the very bottom of the pile, was a picture of one of the Irish chasers from the World Cup. A red-head. Thank Merlin. He wasn't crazy and secretly obsessed.

He took a better look at the picture, which appeared to be sleeping. Come to think of it, the man was only marginally good-looking and Draco wasn't attracted to red hair at all. Why on earth had he kept this picture?

The wizard in the picture yawned and stretched as he woke up. His eyes fluttered open and he looked up at Draco, who dropped the picture in shock.

A pair of emerald green eyes, almost but not quite as green as Harry's, were staring up at him.

Oh fuck.

3 Maybe it's Magic

Draco spent the next several days in what could be termed "severe, complete, and total denial."

He completely refused to admit defeat. He was going to beat this crush. He was not going remain in love with one Harry sodding Potter.

His initial plan was to avoid Harry until the feelings passed, which of course was easier said then done. Harry Potter turned out to be a hard person to avoid. Everywhere Draco went, there he was, with his big, pretty eyes, his shiny black hair, and that tall, muscular body that drove Draco positively wild.

It was like living a nightmare. Every time he saw Harry, or heard his voice echoing in the corridor, he would get that warm, glowing feeling inside, feel that burning surge of desire, and then promptly fall into despair, because no matter how much he wanted Harry Potter, he was one thing that Draco absolutely could not have.

It hurt like hell.

He barely noticed that he had suddenly become the most sought after student in Howarts. Students stared after him everywhere he went. People said and did outrageous things constantly to get his attention. He got presents, love notes and even the occasional marriage proposal every morning with his breakfast. Through it all the only thing he could think about was Harry, Harry, Harry.

He thought about Harry when he ate his meals. He thought about Harry when he did his homework. He definitely thought about Harry when he took a shower, and he had started dreaming about Harry when he slept at night.

He grudgingly admitted that while the crush absolutely sucked, the dreams were rather good.

The absolute worst part of it all had to be the uncontrollable jealousy. He wanted to avoid Harry but every time Harry was out of his sight he began to have these weird mental fits about where he was, who he was with, and what he might be doing. And it would usually lead to a panic attack that Harry might be with someone else in a not-purely-platonic sense.

Draco found himself extraordinarily jealous of anyone and everyone who spent any time with Harry. He once saw Hermione peck him on the cheek and flew into a rage. He had to dash into an empty classroom to avoid hexing her, where he repeatedly kicked and punched the wall instead until he ended up having to visit the hospital wing.

He spent enough time watching Harry, and by extension Weasley and Granger, until he gradually came to accept that they were all just friends, and that neither Hermione nor Ron had designs on Harry. Still, he didn't like it when they got too close. And he didn't trust anyone else around Harry at all. Considering Harry' celebrity status and the fact that people swarmed around him constantly, this made life very painful for Draco.

It drove him crazy. Draco feared it was only a matter of time before someone got hurt. And by hurt he meant hexed to Hades and back with all the Dark Magic that he could muster.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if all this unrequited love for Potter was beginning to make Draco lovesick - literally. He felt drained and went about his days mechanically, barely speaking to anyone, with no will to do anything unless Harry was somehow involved. At night he would fall into bed, completely exhausted, unable to do anything but fight back tears and dream of Harry.

''''''''''''''''''''''

Harry Potter sat at the Gryffindor table at breakfast, eating French toast and mulling over the whole Malfoy situation for what must have been the millionth time.

Hw was very annoyed with Draco. They had actually managed to spend a few very pleasurable minutes in each other's company on the train. Okay, maybe they didn't say much, but the chemistry was unbelievable. Harry had never felt anything like that for anyone else. It was so far beyond anything he had ever felt for Cho. And then Draco had to go and ruin it by reminding Harry of what an obnoxious git he really was.

And after that Draco had ignored him. The blonde hadn't spoken two words to Harry since their stilted conversation on the Hogwart's Express, and that was annoying Harry too. It wasn't that he wanted Draco to be insulting him, but he didn't understand why he was ignoring him. It was as if those moments on the train never happened, and that made Harry want to scream. Why couldn't Malfoy just apologize, and then maybe they could try talking to each other again?

Harry snuck a look over at the Slytherin table to watch Draco pour what had to be an illegal amount of syrup all over his toast. He never would have pegged Draco Malfoy as someone with a sweet tooth, but then again, apparently there were a lot of things that he didn't know about the Slytherin. He watched Draco take a bite and quickly looked away, a slight flush rising on his cheeks as his mind conjured up an image of himself pouring and licking illegal amounts of syrup off of something fit, blonde, and definitely not in the French toast family.

He sighed. Ron and Hermione had questioned him several times about what exactly had been going on before they got there, and Harry had no answer for them. He didn't know. All three of them agreed that something a little weird was going on with Malfoy, especially given their reactions to him that day.

"He must have used some form of the Imperious curse on us," Hermione had said thoughtfully. "And that's why it didn't work on you, Harry, because you can throw off Imperio like it's nothing." This train of thought had been followed by several hours of research in the library, but so far Hermione hadn't found anything to explain why she and Ron had gone all funny around Draco that day.

Harry finished up his breakfast and went to get his books, not wanting to be late for his first class and just hand Snape a reason to take points away from Gryffindor.

He didn't notice, as he left the hall, that two pairs of eyes at the Slytherin table, one silver, one blue, were watching his every move.

''''''''''''''''''''''

Harry had a bad feeling about this.

He was sitting in his Advanced, NEWT-level Potions, which had sixth year students from all four houses, and Snape had just announced that he would be pairing the students up with students from a different house to work on researching various healing potions. Harry knew, he just knew, that he would be with Malfoy.

Sure enough - "Granger, Zabini…Potter, Malfoy…Finch-Fletchley, Thomas…" Harry sighed. Life hated him. Well, maybe not life, but Snape definitely did.

He moved his stuff over to Draco's table, where the blonde was sitting with a sort of resigned, exhausted look, like he hadn't slept properly in ages.

"Hey Malfoy," Harry said, by way of greeting. Draco merely nodded and Harry resisted the urge to shout at him. Malfoy couldn't even manage to say hello?

They received their instructions on a sheet of parchment from Snape, and Harry wanted to groan. This particular potion was notoriously difficult, and the assignment would require him and Draco to spend some time in the library researching. He passed the paper to Draco, who took it without a word, scanned it, and handed it back to Harry.

As Harry took the parchment back, he took a closer look at Draco. What he saw made him slightly concerned. He looked terrible - well, maybe terrible wasn't the right word. He was still blindingly gorgeous, it was true; but before on the Hogwarts Express he'd been practically glowing, and his eyes had been clear and bright. Now his eyes were dimmer, closer to the grey they used to be. His skin was flawless but dull, and even his hair seemed a bit limper. He looked exhausted.

"Malfoy, are you…alright?" Harry asked tentatively. Sure, Malfoy was a vicious git who couldn't be arsed to say one word to Harry, but Harry didn't like to see anyone suffer.

Draco whirled around to stare at him in shock. Shock that very quickly became an angry glare.

"What do you care?" the blonde spat with venom.

Harry clenched his teeth.

"I don't," he replied coldly, and turned away.

''''''''''''''''''''''

Draco stared at the back of Harry's head in bleak despair. He hadn't spoken to Harry, even after he said hello, because he couldn't trust what he might say back. He was deathly afraid that if he tried talking to Harry the words which left his mouth would be along the lines of "come here often?" or worse, "if I could rearrange the alphabet I'd put 'u' and 'i' together."

He shuddered mentally. Draco desperately hoped that if push came to shove he wouldn't end up spouting cheesy pick up lines like some Hufflepuff fourth year after one too many butterbeers, but instead would just throw Harry down on the floor and shag the living daylights out of him in a dignified manner as befitted a Malfoy sex god.

So he hadn't spoken, had tried to keep control, but then Harry had asked him if he was alright. Had asked him nicely, with genuine concern in his voice, and Draco couldn't take it.

As long as Potter kept acting cold towards him then maybe Draco could keep denying that he was in love. But if Harry was going to be civil towards Draco, or God forbid, act like he cared about Draco even the tiniest bit, then Draco would surely lose his battle.

But he hadn't meant to snap at Harry, and now Harry wasn't speaking to him at all. And that was even worse. Now he wanted to throw himself into Harry's lap and apologize until Harry forgave him. And then maybe Harry would say everything was okay, and give him a kiss on the cheek to prove it. And then that kiss would become two kisses, then three, then a trail of kisses down his jaw until they were lip to lip, kissing each other, tongue battling tongue and then -

Draco gulped and squeezed his eyes shut. He spent the rest of the class in complete silence, staring at his blank parchment in despair, oblivious to the stares of lust his classmates were giving him.

'''''''''''''''''''''

After class, Draco fled out into the corridor. Before he could take three steps, though, he heard a voice.

"Malfoy, hold up."

It was Harry. Reluctantly, Draco stopped. He slowly turned and looked at Harry expectantly.

Harry was standing by the wall with an annoyed expression, arms crossed over his chest. "Look," he said briskly, "this is how it is. You don't like me, God knows I don't like you, but we have to work on this potion together so we're going to have to get along for the time being. I'm free on Sunday, can we do our research then?"

Draco's heart dropped into his shoes as Harry's words started a hot, burning sensation behind his eyes. Harry was so wrong. Draco did like him.

But Harry didn't like Draco.

The words God knows I don't like you floated through Draco's mind again, and he bit his lip. He hadn't cried since he was six years old, and he wasn't about to start now, especially not because of something Potter had said. He swallowed hard.

"Whatever, Potter. Just don't bring your filthy little friends with you," he snapped defensively.

Harry exploded in a whirlwind of movement, and in half a second had slammed Draco up against the wall. He held Draco's arms tight against his sides and leaned in menacingly.

"Watch your mouth, Malfoy," he snarled, tightening his grip on Draco's arms so that the blonde winced. "I'm sick of your shit. If you have a problem, you have it with me. Not with my friends, understand?"

The practical part of Draco knew he should be afraid. This was the Boy-Who-Lived, and he was pissed. And his arms were really starting to hurt under Harry's grip.

But Draco wasn't afraid, he was desperate. Harry was actually touching him, and even though it hurt it felt so good at the same time. I am so sick, Draco thought to himself.

He didn't answer Harry, and Harry must have taken that to mean Draco agreed. He loosened his grip on Draco's arms slightly.

Draco panicked. He didn't want Harry to go. This was the closest he had been to the Gryffindor in days, and he didn't want the physical contact, however painful, to end. So he opened his mouth.

"What, you don't like it when I talk about your sidekick, the poor, pathetic little Weasel? Maybe I should talk about his disgusting mudblood girlfriend instead."

That did the trick. Harry slammed Draco back up against the wall with renewed force, squeezing his arms hard enough to leave bruises.

Harry glared down at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have a death wish? Leave my friends out of this!"

Draco felt his next words coming and oh God he couldn't stop them.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Potter, I forgot you don't like the word mudblood. Reminds you too much of your mother, does it?"

Draco instantly knew he'd gone too far. Harry's entire being went rigid and he stared down at Draco with a look of utter loathing.

"You listen to me, Malfoy," he said, his voice so cold it sent chills of fright down Draco's back. "You will never say that word again. Ever. Do I make myself clear?"

Draco shivered. As many times as he had seen Harry angry before, this was the worst. Draco clearly remembered Harry kicking his arse on the Quidditch pitch over a similar comment, and he looked like he was about to do something like that again.

But then Draco noticed Harry's face was only inches from his own, and that even pressed together in an angry line Harry's lips looked so soft, and he was so beautiful that Draco felt his eyes flickering shut and then he was leaning forward and then -

Oh shit. He had almost kissed Harry Potter.

Draco's eyes flew wide open, sheer terror evident on his face. The knowledge of what he had almost done sent adrenaline shooting through his veins, and wrenching himself away from the wall and out of Harry's grasp, he ran.

'''''''''''''''''''

He ran all the way to the Slytherin dungeons, and paused outside the blank stone wall, one arm on the castle wall, panting for breath. He was horrified at what he had almost done. He was losing the battle for self-control. How much longer could he fight this?

Draco turned to the stone wall and went to speak the password: Disgraceful mudbloods.

"Disgraceful mud…" Draco blinked in surprise as the word caught in his throat. He swallowed. "Disgraceful mud…"

Again the word "mudblood" stuck in his throat, and no amount of effort or will allowed the word past his lips.

This was absolutely bizarre.

"Disgraceful mud…mud…MUD…what the FUCK??"

He tried over and over again. He tried shouting, he tried whispering, he tried waiting a couple minutes and then saying it all in a rush, but it was no use.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't do it. He couldn't say mudblood.

And Draco didn't understand it at all.

He slid down the wall of the castle and sat on the hard dungeon floor with his knees bent, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Something was seriously, seriously wrong here.

He went over the events of the last few minutes. He had insulted Potter's friends, trying to egg him into a fistfight, of all things, and then he had called Potter's mother a mudblood.

And what did Harry say after that? Harry's angry words ran through Draco's head - You will never say that word again. Ever. Draco shivered. Well, it looked like for some unknown reason, his body was obeying Harry's command. Draco really couldn't say it, and that didn't make any sense. Was Potter somehow controlling him? How could he be? He hadn't heard a spell. He tried again under his breath.

"Mud…mud…mud…damn it!"

This wasn't fucking normal. Not even for an out-of-the-blue crush on the star-crossed hero of the wizarding world. It was horrible and terrible and just so fucking wrong that it was as far from normal as things could get.

And then it suddenly hit Draco like a bolt of lightning - it really really really wasn't normal. It. Wasn't. Normal. It was so not normal, in fact, that it absolutely, positively had to be caused by something abnormal.

Something magical.

Draco could have danced with joy. Of course it was something magical - why hadn't he thought of this sooner? Obviously he was under a spell, or a love potion or something. And that meant it wasn't his fault that he was in love with Harry Potter. In fact, that meant he wasn't really in love with Harry at all, it was just the effects of whatever horrible spell he was under.

This was sweet, blessed relief.

Of course, he had no idea what spell it might be. But he could find out.

Draco spent every spare moment over the next few days at the library. He avoided Harry even more studiously than before, terrified that the other wizard had some kind of power over him. He researched everything he could find about love potions and love spells and all about their effects. He even got a note from Snape to use the restricted section. Unfortunately, he found nothing that really matched his description. He was getting no where.

And the exhaustion was still there. He was sleeping ten hours a night and still falling asleep on his books in the library. He had to face the facts - he needed help. Help from someone who was meticulous, clever, and trustworthy, and that could mean only one person: Granger.

''''''''''''''''''''''

"Psst! Hermione!"

Starled, Hermione looked up from her notes in Arithmancy to see Terry Boot passing her a folded up piece of paper. She took it and waited until the professor's back was turned, and then opened it and read it.

Granger,

I need your help. It's research. Can I talk to you after class?

DM

Hermione stared at the note. It was almost polite. She thought about saying no - this was Draco Malfoy here - but one of the qualities that made Hermione such an excellent student was her insatiable curiosity. The fact that Draco Malfoy of all people wanted her help for something had her dying to know what was up, so of course she was going to say yes.

And truthfully, it probably didn't hurt that Draco was still absolutely the hottest guy at Hogwarts.

Knowing that Ron and Harry would probably give her hell for agreeing if they found out, she scribbled back 'Alright, we can talk', and passed it back to Terry Boot to pass on.

After class, Draco came over to Hermione's desk.

"Granger," he said, rather politely.

"Malfoy," she said back, very coolly, but with restrained curiosity in her voice. Draco took a deep breath.

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes." Hermione stated this as a simple fact of absolute truth, which, of course, it was.

"Good." He paused for a moment. "Can we go to the library?" Hermione nodded and they made their way to the library.

'''''''''''''''''''''''

Draco explained everything to Hermione, from his dad's decision to switch sides to his apparently undying love for all things Harry Potter to his current inability to say the word mudblood. This last one, of course, had caused Hermione great delight, and she had made him try at least three times before she actually believed him.

"So let me recap a bit, here," Hermione said some time later, after Draco had finished. "You and your dad don't work for Voldemort anymore?"

"Well, I never planned to in the first place, but essentially yes. And you can't tell anyone, not even Weasley and Potter, alright? I just thought you should know so you don't think that the rest of what I told you is one big evil ploy to give Potter over to the Dark Lord."

"The rest of it. You mean, the part where you're in love with Harry?"

Draco rubbed his temples as if he had a headache. "Yes, Granger! Gods, do you have to rub it in? It's not like I don't feel horrible enough already."

"And you think you're under a love potion or something?"

"Obviously. I wouldn't fall in love with Potter on my own, you know."

"I don't know. Harry's a wonderful person and very good-looking. A lot of people are madly in love with him and it has nothing to do with love potions, it just has to do with - Malfoy, are you alright?"

Draco was clenching his fists and grinding his teeth. "I don't want to talk about other people being in love with Harry!"

"You're jealous?"

"Granger, you are supposed to be the smartest witch in our school! What don't you understand about this? This is not a normal crush! I've been collecting pictures of black haired Quidditch players for months. I tried to get Harry to beat me up just so I could be close to him. I sleep all the time and I have no energy because I can't stop thinking about him. And I'm not just jealous, I'm insanely jealous! I almost hexed you the other day for kissing him on the cheek!!"

"Okay, Malfoy, get a grip. I see what you mean." Hermione gave him a small smile as he took a few deep breaths and got his feelings back under control, then she continued. "Actually, I think there's a strong argument for the Dark Arts being involved, as you can no longer say mudblood because Harry told you not to. That would suggest that some kind of magic is controlling your behavior. Not that I'm particularly sorry about this, you understand."

Draco gave her a wry grin. "Yeah, well, I only said it because I thought it might piss Harry off enough to hit me, and by extension, touch me. God, I'm sick." He buried his head in his arms on the desk.

"It's not your fault. Look, I'll do what I can, because this concerns Harry as well."

Draco nodded, but didn't lift his head. "I have to be honest with you here. This isn't just a sweet flowers and candy kind of crush, you know," he mumbled into his arms. "There's more to it."

"What do you mean?"

"I want him. And I mean, I really, really want him." Hermione was silent for a moment, so Draco reluctantly lifted his head off his arms. "Are all you Gryffindors so bloody innocent?" he asked derisively.

"I'm not innocent," Hermione protested. "I just don't under - "

"I want to fuck him, Granger. I want to drag him up to the Astronomy Tower and have my wicked way with him. I want to ride him like a Firebolt. I want to map every inch of his body with my tongue. And if we don't get rid of this spell soon, I promise you I that I will seduce him and debauch him faster than you can say Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."

Hermione was rather pink by this time. "So you're saying we need to work fast."

"Exactly. Because I don't know how much longer I can fight this. He's been safe from me so far, because I was in denial about my feelings. Now that I'm convinced they're not my fault, that I'm under some kind of spell, it perversely makes the urges so much harder to fight."

"Makes sense, actually. Since it's not your fault you feel this way, it's not your fault if you act on those feelings."

"Very perceptive." Draco yawned. "I need a nap," he mumbled.

"Go take one. I'll work on this."

Draco nodded. "Hey Granger," he said softly. "Thanks. I know you don't have to do this."

"For Harry's sake, I do."

"He's lucky to have friends like you," Draco said, without a touch of sarcasm.

Hermione actually smiled a real smile at him, before saying thoughtfully, "Malfoy, have you considered just telling Harry how you feel?"

"Are you mad? Of course not. He'd be horrified. He hates me." Draco stared off into space dejectedly as he said this.

"He doesn't hate you," Hermione hastened to reassure him.

Draco looked at her sadly. "Yes, he does. At the very least, he doesn't like me. He told me so himself," he said miserably.

Hermione's eyes were shining with sympathy. "Well, insulting his friends and his mother is probably not going to help matters much, you know," she said gently.

Draco gave her a cheerless sort of half-smile. "Yeah, I know. But it made him get close to me, and that was heaven."

Draco stood up and stretched, his movements pulling his shirt tight across his body. His smile went from sad to amused as he realized that even though Hermione was determinedly starting at her textbook, her eyes kept flicking back to watch him.

After a moment, she spoke. "Hey Malfoy?"

"Hmmm?" he asked, resting his hands on the back of his head.

Hermione swallowed and didn't look at him. "When did you looks start changing?" she asked hesitantly.

Draco's eyebrow quirked up. "Why Granger, I didn't think you'd noticed," he said playfully, amused by the slight flush that colored Hermione's cheek.

"Hush, I'm serious here. Could it be related to your feelings for Harry?"

Draco thought about that for a moment, then shrugged. "I honestly don't think so. I mean, it's not like I look all that different, and everyone changes a bit as they grow up anyway, right?"

Hermione looked as though she rather disagreed with him, but she kept it to herself. How gorgeous Malfoy had become and the fact that he was in love with Harry were certainly two entirely separate issues.

Or so they thought.

4 Trouble

"Malfoy? Malfoy! Damn it, hold up!"

Draco stopped and slowly turned around, both elated and terrified to discover Harry Potter currently running after him down the corridor.

"What, Potter?" he snapped, feigning annoyance.

Harry caught up to him and glared. "Why have you been avoiding me?"

Draco momentarily considered telling Harry the truth. "Well, Potter, I've been avoiding you because I'm madly in love with you. I was in denial about it but now I'm just afraid if we spend any time alone together I'm going to jump your bones and ravish you with hours and hours of mad, wild, swinging from the chandeliers, kinky monkey sex."

Hmmm. Perhaps not.

"I haven't been avoiding you," Draco lied unconvincingly.

"Yes, you have, and it has to stop," Harry snapped back. "Look, we have to get this project done for Snape, and we can't do it when you won't talk to me. So can we please get together? Not that Snape needs it, but I refuse to give him a good reason to fail me."

Draco took a moment to tilt his head back and study the wizard before him. Same messy hair, same bright green eyes, same you are the biggest git to walk the face of the planet and I can't believe I'm stuck talking to you glare on his face that he normally wore around Draco. And Draco felt the same rush of affection and desire he'd been feeling since the first moment he saw Harry on the Hogwart's Express.

The difference now, of course, was that since his revelation and chat with Hermione the night before he had become a whole lot more comfortable with his feelings for Harry. So he was madly in love with the Boy-Who-Lived. So he thought Harry was the hottest thing he'd ever seen. So he was dying to get in Harry's pants.

It's not like it was Draco's fault he felt this way. And now he had the opportunity to spend a few moments alone with Harry, and by Merlin he was going to seize them.

"You're right, Potter. You're absolutely right," Draco said easily. "I'm not doing anything at the moment, would you like to work on our project now?"

At Draco's words, Harry froze and stood motionless, stunned. He gaped at Draco in total surprise. His mouth opened and closed a couple times, but no sound came out.

"Something wrong?" Draco quiered, slightly anxious.

Harry shook his head 'no' very firmly. "No, nothing's wrong…" he finally said.

"Then…" Draco trailed off, his raised eyebrows questioning Harry's sudden inability to speak.

Harry cleared his throat and looked sheepish. "It's just…I wasn't expecting you to be so polite," he finally explained, still staring at Draco with enormous wide eyes.

Oh. Draco felt momentary embarrassment that Harry didn't expect him to be polite. He wanted Harry to think highly of him, and he was a bit annoyed that apparently he didn't.

"You don't have to sound so shocked. I can be polite sometimes, you know," Draco said haughtily.

"I know that," Harry replied, running a hand though his hair uncomfortably. "But you're not usually so polite to me."

Another angry retort rose instantly to Draco's lips, but he bit his tongue before he could say anything. Instead, he took another good look at Harry. The Gryffindor was biting his bottom lip and slouching awkwardly, watching Draco warily as if he expected the blonde to turn back into the monster he was used to dealing with any second.

Draco scowled. He didn't want Harry to think he was a monster. Not anymore. Licking his lips nervously, Draco gave Harry a small, insecure sort of smile.

"I guess I'll have to work on that, then," Draco said as politely he could.

Now Harry looked like he might actually faint from the shock of it all, but he managed to pull himself together enough to send his own small smile back at Draco.

"That'd be really nice," Harry replied hesitantly. And then, as if he couldn't help himself, he blurted out, "You know, you have a really nice smile."

Harry's cheeks immediately flushed scarlet and he looked mortified beyond belief, but Draco…Draco could have died at that moment and died a happy man.

"Thank you," he said, a bright sunny smile lighting up his face. At Draco's happy expression, Harry's flaming cheeks seemed to cool slightly.

"Don't mention it," Harry muttered, rubbing at the back of his neck in an embarrassed fashion. "And I mean that. I don't know what just came over me, and please don't ever mention it again."

Draco continued to beam at him. "Your wish is my command," he said magnanimously, and then considerately changed the subject. "Now then, Potter, shall we go? After all," he said, lowering his voice slightly, "you're the one who insisted that we have some quality time alone together."

Harry's cheeks, which had just begun returning to their normal color, immediately heated back up. "Oh, very funny, Malfoy," he snapped, though he didn't sound half as angry as he ought to have been at Draco's teasing comment. Instead he seemed to be having a hard time taking his eyes off of Draco's brilliant smile. "Shall we go down to the library then?"

At this, Draco's smile morphed slightly, from deliriously happy to just a bit seductive. "Oh, I'll go down anywhere you want me to," he purred, and had the pleasure of watching Harry nearly fall down the stairs in shock.

'''''''''''''''''''''

Harry Potter, get your mind out of the gutter! Harry scolded himself about thirty minutes later, as he and Draco shared a table in the library. He was trying to concentrate on their project, and failing miserably for two reasons. One, he kept sneaking sidelong glances at Draco, who was sitting right next to him and calmly taking notes. He couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of Draco's porcelain skin, or Draco's arched neck, or the way Draco's shirt collar gaped out from his neck slightly or the way his perfect pink lips glistened after he licked them or the way his fine, silky hair was tucked behind his cute little ear or -

Harry wrenched his gaze away, wanting to smack himself. Surely, surely, he was not sitting here drooling over Draco's cute little ear.

"Are you happy in this position, Potter?" Draco asked casually, not looking up from his notes. "Because you know I can twist into any position that you might fancy. I'm very…flexible," he finished meaningfully.

Harry closed his eyes and gulped. That was the second reason he couldn't concentrate. Draco kept saying these things that he knew they were just innocent comments but his raging 16 year old hormones were putting a sexual twist on everything. Hearing those comments slipping from Draco's perfect lips was driving him crazy.

Get a grip on yourself, he mentally scolded. "So…uh…how do you want to do this?" Harry asked, twirling his quill and trying to look for all the world like he wasn't incredibly turned on by Draco's offhand comments.

"I'll do it any way you want it," Draco said easily, and Harry dropped his quill.

ARGH! he mentally shouted. Come on Potter. Be cool. Just…be cool.

Harry and Draco leaned down under the table at the same time to search for the quill. Draco got to it first.

"Here, Potter, bend over just a little more and let me give it to you."

Harry jerked upright.

"OW!" he cried, smacking his head on the table above him. He quickly snatched the quill back and sat up in his seat.

"You okay?" Draco asked, quickly sitting up as well. His large silvery eyes were shining in concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said, embarrassed. He snatched a large book off the table, opening it at random. He willed himself to focus on the text and not on the fact that Draco was leaning closer…and closer…and

"So what are you reading about?" Draco whispered into his ear.

Harry's entire body froze. Draco's mouth was only inches from his ear, and when the blonde spoke his breath ghosted over Harry's ear and neck, sending goose bumps down Harry's arms.

"Umm…oh, uh…umm…healing…umm…potions," Harry finally answered, tight as a bowstring.

"Oh," Draco said softly. "Sounds…fascinating." The way Draco's voice lilted over the word made Harry shudder slightly. With Draco so close he could smell the blonde's cologne, and Harry clenched his fists because Draco smelled so very very good and any second now he was going to snap and turn and then not even so much kiss Draco as EAT him and -

To both Harry's relief and utter disappointment, before he could eat Draco the Slytherin turned away and went back to his own book.

This will never do! Harry moaned to himself, collapsing onto his arms on top of his book. You have to get some self-control here! Stop acting like some swooning little girl!

But no matter how hard he tried he couldn't fight it, and he spent the rest of their study time covertly staring at the blonde next to him and imagining how that perfect skin would taste under his lips.

''''''''''''''''''''''''

Finally, it was almost curfew, and Harry and Draco cleaned up their table and got ready to leave.

"So, same time, same place, tomorrow?" Harry asked.

Draco smiled at him. "It's a date."

Harry blushed slightly and looked away, making Draco's smile grow. Harry was so cute when he was embarrassed. Draco was preening under the knowledge that Harry had gotten no work done that evening because he couldn't take his eyes off Draco. Granted, neither could any of the other students in the library, but Draco didn't care about them.

Harry had stared at him, and Harry had blushed when Draco had flirted with him, and Draco was beginning to suspect that bagging Harry Potter was actually a hell of a lot easier than Draco had ever dreamed it could be.

"So, um…want me to walk you back to your dorm or anything?" Harry asked as they walked out of the library together.

Oh yes. Harry was so his. Now, why hadn't Draco wanted to be in love with Harry Potter again?

"What am I, your girlfriend?" Draco asked playfully, just to see Harry's blush deepen and spread over his face.

"You're right. I'm an idiot. Just put that comment in the same category as you have a nice smile and never mention it again, alright?" Harry looked absolutely humiliated.

"No, I understand, it's a Gryffindor thing," Draco said generously. "You lot are supposed to be chivalrous, right?"

"Yes, exactly," Harry said gratefully. "Chivalrous, that's me. Chivalrous Harry Potter. Can't let a bloke walk back to his dorm alone. That would be…un-chivalrous." Even as he said it, Harry seemed to realize how ridiculous he sounded and offered Draco a sheepish grin. "Or something like that. You know, I think I'm going to stop babbling and just head back to my dorm now. Night, Malfoy."

"Night, Potter," Draco said, grinning back, and watched Harry walk away.

'''''''''''''''''''

Down in the dungeons, Draco collapsed on his bed in his Slytherin dorm in a giddy heap. Giving in to this potion or spell or whatever it was that made him love Potter was the best feeling on earth. He knew he had a big goofy grin on his face, and that Malfoys usually didn't wear big goofy grins, but damn it, he was happy.

Potter had stared at him like he was edible, blushed when he made flirtatious comments, and actually offered to walk Draco home. Draco had almost said yes, yes damn it, and shag me while you're at it but part of him knew that if he'd let Harry walk him home that he'd have ended up kissing him goodnight, and Merlin knows where that would have led. And that might have been too fast for Harry. He didn't want to chance ruining what they could have by scaring the Gryffindor off.

He smiled to himself. He would take it slow, and properly seduce Harry, leisurely drive him crazy with innuendo and flirtation until Harry was gagging for it and -

Of course, there was always a chance that Granger would find some way to get rid of this spell.

The thought made Draco frown. After this evening, he wasn't so sure he wanted the spell gone. He'd had so much fun flirting with Harry, and it looked like Harry wasn't at all immune to being flirted with. Maybe he should talk to Granger, tell her he kind of liked the spell now, tell her he loved being with Harry and didn't want to stop…

He shook his head. Best not to think of it right now. Better to think of a certain raven-haired Gryffindor with big green eyes and an incredible body, and to picture that look on his face when he stared at Draco as if Draco were made of candy…

Oh yes. Much better.

'''''''''''''''''

Harry was almost to Gryffindor tower, unable to stop smiling. He had just spent a pleasant evening with Draco Malfoy, who was an admittedly mouthy git but looked like vanilla cake with legs.

Harry could not believe how attractive he found Draco. He also couldn't believe what an idiot he'd been in front of him. You have a nice smile…want me to walk you back to your dorm…Harry smacked himself on the forehead. It was as if sometimes he couldn't help the words that came out of his mouth around Draco.

Draco hadn't seemed to mind in the slightest, however, and as long as the blonde continued to smile those heart-stopping smiles at Harry, Harry didn't care how big a fool he looked.

Suddenly, he heard a noise in the shadows.

Harry stopped. "Hello? Is someone there?" No answer. He checked his watch. A few minutes past curfew, so technically he could get busted. He decided he was just hearing things and hurried along. After a moment, though, he knew he heard a sound again.

"Look, just come out. If you're going to give me detention, just get it over with. Don't follow me around, it's creepy."

A moment of silence, and then Justin Finch-Fletchley walked out of the shadows.

"Sorry, Harry, didn't mean to freak you out," he said easily, and Harry smiled at him.

"That's okay, Justin. No harm done. So are you going to get me in trouble?" he asked cheekily, knowing that his Hufflepuff friend Justin would never turn him in for being out late at night.

"That depends," Justin purred, moving closer to the Gryffindor. "Do you want to get in trouble? Maybe I should just punish you right now - myself." He advanced on Harry, who felt that things were just a bit out of sorts.

"Um…okay…" Harry responded, backing up a step. Was Justin trying to flirt with him? This was really odd and not at all like Justin. Before Harry could figure out what was going on, the Hufflepuff reached out and caught his arm.

"Where are you going, Harry?" he asked, and up close Harry saw that his eyes seemed a bit vacant and out of focus. "The party's just getting started." And with that he smashed his lips up against Harry's.

"What the hell? Justin, get off me!" Harry shouted, pushing Justin away. He wiped at his mouth in distaste. He had only ever kissed one person before, and even though that kiss was wet and soggy it sure as hell was better than that.

Justin, however, didn't appear to be taking no for an answer and was advancing toward Harry again.

"Oh come on, Harry, you know you want it," he said, smirking. Harry had just enough time to think to himself since when does Justin smirk before he was slammed up against the wall of the corridor and Justin's lips were on his again.

"Justin, I said no! Didn't you hear me?" Harry said again, wrenching his mouth away. He tensed, trying to get free, but Justin held him tight against the wall.

"I heard you," he said menacingly, narrowing his eyes at Harry. "I just don't care." Justin ground his hips against Harry's and then plunged a hand down the front of Harry's loose-fitting trousers, Harry gasped in disgust while nausea washed through his body. Pissed beyond words now, Harry moved his leg and then kicked Justin's shin - hard. Justin sucked in his breath and then glared at Harry.

"You little bitch," Justin snarled, and drew back. The next instant a fist struck Harry in the face.

Well, that did it. Up to this point Harry had been willing to chalk this up to some kind of insanity on Justin's part, but he had just crossed the line. Harry Potter was nobody's bitch.

Harry fought back using skills he had gained watching his cousin Dudley over the years. He brought his knee up, hard, right into Justin's groin, and then punched him in the stomach. When Justin doubled over in pain Harry shoved him backwards. Justin overbalanced and fell.

Harry whipped out his wand and hit Justin with Petrificus Totalis, and then the next moment Harry was walking quickly back to Gryffindor tower.

''''''''''''''''''''

The next morning, Harry looked at his reflection in the mirror carefully. Although not up to Madame Pomphrey's abilities, Hermione had performed a decent healing spell on him. All that was left from Justin's sucker punch was the faint hint of a healing black eye.

The other Gryffindors had been livid when he had returned to the common room with broken glasses and a red, puffy eye. Caving under their pressure he had given them an edited version of the events, not wanting to worry everyone with the information that Justin's goal had been rape. He had refused to divulge the identity of his attacker, however, saying he had already beaten the guy up pretty badly.

His friends had been highly pissed off with his secrecy, but really, he could take care of himself. He didn't need protection from anyone, and he wasn't worried. After last night he had proved that, and he doubted Justin would be in a hurry to mess with him again.

''''''''''''''''''''

The day passed fairly smoothly, and soon it was their last class. Harry usually despaired that every year he seemed to have Potions last on Fridays, but today he was really looking forward to seeing a certain stunning blonde. He took his seat next to Draco, who actually turned and smiled at him before turning back to look at Snape.

And then whipping back around to look at Harry again.

"What happened to your eye?" Draco asked, sounding suspicious.

Harry started. No one else had said a word about it all day. You could barely see the black eye, as it was almost gone and what was left was mostly hidden by Harry's glasses.

"What happened to your eye, Potter?" Draco repeated. He sounded even more suspicious now. Harry struggled to find his voice.

"Um…nothing. It was nothing. An accident," he said offhandedly. He looked down at his notes, expecting Draco to drop the subject.

"Bullshit, Potter," Draco snapped. "That's a black eye. Who hit you?"

Harry looked up, stunned by the angry tone of Draco's voice. "No one," he said, trying to shrug the matter off. "Look, don't worry about it. Seriously, it doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

Harry sat in surprised silence at Draco's unexpected admission as the blonde began to run his eyes up and down Harry's body. The silver orbs stopped at Harry's hands and narrowed. Harry glanced down at his bruised and scraped knuckles and realized he had forgotten to ask Hermione to heal them.

"You were in a fight," Draco said dangerously.

Harry closed his eyes. It was useless to keep denying it. "Alright, yes I was. Now let's drop it."

"No." Draco sounded furious. "Tell me what happened, Potter."

"Look, it doesn't matter, alright? I took care of it. Believe me; the other guy is much worse off than I am."

"I told you, it matters to me. Tell me what happened."

"Malfoy, I -

"Tell me. Now."

And for some odd reason, probably because it was so unusual to have Malfoy care what happened to him, Harry gave in and gave him the edited version of the events, the same one his friends had got.

But when Harry refused to tell him who attacked him, Draco wasn't having it.

"Tell me who it was," he demanded.

"Malfoy, no," Harry said firmly. "I told you I took care of it."

Undaunted, Draco began to scan the classroom. Harry watched in confusion as Draco's eyes took in each row, everyone present and accounted for and sitting in their proper seat with their partner except…

Draco whirled around. "It was Finch-Fletchley, wasn't it?"

Draco's lucky guess was right. Harry's mouth dropped open and his eyes grew wide, but he quickly tried to laugh it off. "What? Oh, come on, what on earth makes you think - "

"You are the worst liar, Potter." Draco narrowed his eyes at the empty seat. "I'll kill him. I'll fucking kill him."

And before Harry could ask Draco why any of this mattered to him, Snape had started the lecture.

''''''''''''''''''''''''

Harry took off the moment class was over, and before Draco could chase him down and demand more information Hermione was in front of him.

"Can we talk after dinner?" she asked. "I've got a couple things I need to check with you."

"What? Oh, oh…right…about the love potion…thing," Draco said distractedly. He was absolutely livid that some Hufflepuff scum had had the nerve to hit Harry, and right now his mind was focused on what exactly would be the best method to gut someone and then strangle them with their own intestines. Hermione looked at him oddly, but just nodded.

"Yes. So…after dinner then?"

"Sounds great, Granger. Whatever you want," Draco said dismissively. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to run an…errand." And with that he took off running towards the hospital wing. .

When Draco got to the hospital wing, however, he was told by Madame Pomphrey that Justin had just left. Draco spent the next half hour searching the castle, but couldn't find the Hufflepuff anywhere. Finally, admitting defeat - for now - he went down to dinner.

At dinner, he absently ate a few bites of his normal food before abandoning them for the treacle tart and strawberry ice cream offered for dessert. He was still furiously angry, and he kept one eye on the door in case Justin decided to show his ugly face.

With the other eye he watched Harry protectively from the Slytherin table. He stared suspiciously as Ernie MacMillian, one of Justin's best friends, approached Harry. Draco tensed, watching the two converse, but nothing seemed to be amiss. After a few moments Ernie went back to his seat at the Hufflepuff table.

Draco watched Harry carefully, but he still seemed alright. Draco reflected for a moment that the day before he might have been upset that he felt so protective of Harry. Tonight he just chalked it up to whatever weirdness had infected his body with all this Potter-love in the first place.

Which, speaking of the unknown weirdness, Hermione had finished eating and was covertly signaling to him from across the hall. She inclined her head to the door and he nodded. She went out, and Draco followed, reluctantly leaving Harry alone for the time being.

No one, not even Draco, had noticed the small vial of clear liquid in Ernie MacMillian's hand, nor had anyone seen him empty the contents into Harry's glass of pumpkin juice.

''''''''''''''''''

"So what's up, then, Granger?" Draco asked, lounging on the teacher's desk in an empty classroom on the third floor. Hermione was pacing back and forth, flipping through pages of notes.

"I just wanted to ask you a couple questions. Have any of your normal habits changed? Besides sleeping more, I mean."

Draco thought for a couple moments. "Not particularly, except that since this summer I seem to have developed a raging sweet tooth. I mean, I've always liked sweets, but now they're practically all I eat. Is that important?"

Hermione shrugged. "Might be, might not be. Hard to say at this point. Alright, another question. When Harry orders you to do something, do you always have to do it or is it just at certain times, certain tones of voices, etc.?"

Draco frowned, thinking. "I have no idea. I think the only time it's happened is with the whole mud…mud…that fucking situation with that fucking word I can no longer say," he finished, scowling, and Hermione smirked at him.

"Serves you right, you know. You never should have said it in the first place." She ignored Draco's responding glare and checked over her notes again. "So that's it then?" she asked. "You can't think of any other time you did something that Harry ordered you to do?"

"Well…there might have been one other occasion. On the Hogwarts' Express. You were there, remember? He told me to 'get out' and I did, without a fight, even though I didn't want to. I didn't really think about it at the time."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "Very interesting. I wonder what all this means."

"Yeah. Me too."

'''''''''''''''''

Harry stood up from the Gryffindor table, head reeling. Suddenly, he felt terrible - he was nauseous, sweaty, and having trouble breathing.

"Oy, Harry, you alright?" Ron had already left to send a letter to his parents, but Seamus Finnigan was still at the table and was looking at Harry with concern.

Harry smiled weakly. "Yeah, thanks, Seamus. Just a bit under the weather, I guess. I think I'll go up to the tower and lie down."

Seamus looked at him closely. "You sure you're alright? Want me to come with you?"

"No, I'm really fine," said Harry, forcing a stronger smile on his face. "Thanks, though."

Seamus looked skeptical, but agreed. "Okay, mate. Just be careful, alright? You look a bit peaky."

Harry nodded. "Will do."

He cautiously made his way out of the hall, praying that the world would stop spinning.

He didn't notice a pair of eyes at the Slytherin table watching his every move.

He certainly didn't notice two pairs of feet following him out of the Hall either.

''''''''''''''''''''

"Malfoy, I've wanted to ask you - what happened that day on the Hogwarts Express?"

"I told you, Granger: I heard a laugh and it was bloody beautiful. I went looking for it and all of a sudden I found that I fancied the pants off Harry Potter."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't mean between you and Harry, but to Ron and I. What did you do to us? How did you make us say those ridiculous things to you?"

Oh, that. Draco figured he may as well come clean about it. "I don't know, and that's the truth. It wasn't the first time that had happened, though."

He related to her how the other students had reacted in much the same way in the prefects' carriage. They sat in contemplative silence for a moment, before Hermione shook her head in frustration.

"This doesn't make any sense, you know."

"I know," Draco replied morosely. "What was it like for you? What made you say those things to me?"

Hermione blushed slightly. "I just wanted to impress you, for some reason," she explained reluctantly. "I didn't really think about what I was saying. It was more a need to have you notice me."

She seemed rather embarrassed, and Draco contemplated making fun of her. He decided against it, mainly because if he wanted to succeed in seducing Harry he probably ought to stop pissing off his friends.

"Weird," was all he said in response, and they went back to looking over Hermione's notes.

'''''''''''''''''''''

Harry squinted, trying to see clearly, but the world had become one big blur. He paused, leaning one hand against the wall for support, and tried to figure things out. He was drugged, he had to be. That was the only explanation for his current state. And it seemed he had wandered off course, and now he had no idea where he was. Some corridor somewhere that appeared to be empty.

He clutched at his head, trying to shake off the dizziness, when he heard the sound of feet nearby.

"Hello?" he called out tentatively. "Someone there?"

He heard a very evil chuckle, and then a familiar voice pierced through his haze. "You could say that, Harry. You could say that."

And before Harry could respond, someone grabbed his arms from behind and held him in place, and a fist came flying at his stomach.

''''''''''''''''''''

"So, have you and Harry been getting along better?" Hermione asked. "He said something about your study session going very well last night."

That news made Draco break into a grin. "Did he really say that?" he asked, elated.

Hermione smiled back. "Yes, he really said that, and he also said he had a really good time," she reassured him. Then she narrowed her eyes. "You're not trying to seduce him or anything, are you?"

Draco's eyes widened. "Of course not," he lied. "I just thought this whole love potion thing would be easier to take if we were on friendlier terms, that's all."

"Uh-huh." Hermione replied suspiciously. She didn't sound like she believed him for a second. "Listen Malfoy, don't you dare make him fall in love with you."

"What? Oh please. Like I would do that," Draco scoffed, but he squirmed a bit uncomfortably under Hermione's glare.

"I'm serious here. Don't you make him fall in love with you. Harry is my best friend. I love him like a brother, and I won't let you hurt him."

Draco started to protest. "I would never -

"Look Malfoy, what happens if he falls in love with you and then we find a cure for whatever makes you love him? And then you stop and go back to hating him? Don't you see? You'll break his heart."

Draco hadn't thought of that. Conflicting feelings rose up in him - the desire to love Harry and to be with him fighting sheer horror at the thought of breaking Harry's heart. Now that he had given into the love potion, he didn't know if he wanted to live again in a world where he didn't love Harry.

"I won't break his heart, because I won't stop loving him," he finally said quietly, mostly to himself.

Hermione sighed. "Just…don't hurt him, okay? God knows enough people are out to do that already."

In an instant, Draco remembered Harry's black eye and felt his rage return. "Like that bastard Finch-Fletchley," he spat, feeling murderous again.

Hermione turned to look at him sharply. "Is that who hit Harry?" she asked.

Draco nodded, and was surprised to see Hermione's face contorting with the same rage he felt. "I'll fucking kill him," she spat.

"Granger!" Draco was a bit startled to hear his own words out of Hermione Granger's mouth.

"What?" she spat, already gathering her notes and grabbing her wand. "I told you, I love Harry like a brother. And Harry may think he hurt Justin enough, but I don't see why we shouldn't teach him a lesson as well."

Draco gave her an admiring look, and followed her out the door. Draco clearly remembered getting slapped round the face by her when they were thirteen for verbally insulting Hagrid. He couldn't wait to see what she did to Justin Finch-Fletchley for physically assaulting her best friend.

Provided, of course, there was a single scrap of Justin left for her after Draco was done with him.

'''''''''''''''

"Justin, what the fuck…" Harry groaned. Before he could get his breath, Justin drove another punch into his stomach, and Harry would have crumpled to the floor but for the arms of someone else holding him firmly in place.

"Hi Harry. You didn't think I'd forget about last night, did you?" Justin asked almost pleasantly. His words were contradicted by his fists, which continued to rain blows on Harry. In Harry's drugged state he couldn't fathom fighting back. He couldn't even understand why Justin why hitting him.

One of Justin's fists hit Harry's nose, jerking his head back. Harry's head hit something behind him and he opened his eyes to find himself looking up at Ernie MacMillian's face.

"Ernie?" he asked painfully, tasting blood on his lips.

"That's right, Potter. Ten points to Gryffindor," he said sarcastically, and he and Justin laughed.

The edges of his vision were going black now, and Harry had the sensation that he was very far away. Snatches of conversation floated through his mind, none of which made any sense to him.

"Put him on the floor…"

Harry groaned when his head smacked the hard stone of the corridor floor.

"Shut up, will you?" a distance voice hissed. "Damn it, Ernie, hold him down…don't let him get away…"

Harry felt hands ripping at his clothes, his t-shirt practically shredded now. He distantly noted that the floor was awfully cold under his back.

"Bet you won't be so keen to defy the Dark Lord after this, will you Potter?"

The Dark Lord? Harry's head was a wreck, but he was able to process those words. Summoning the last of his senses, he bit down hard on the hand that was covering his mouth.

"Fuck!" Ernie swore, jerking his hand away. Harry took a deep breath.

"Help! Somebody help! Please! Hel - "

"Shut the fuck up, Potter."

And then the hand was clapped down over his nose and mouth again and Harry couldn't make another sound.

5 The Rescue

Draco and Hermione had just left the classroom when Draco heard it.

"Help! Somebody help! Please! Hel - "

And then the voice stopped.

Draco had heard enough, though. He grabbed Hermione's arm.

"Did you hear that?" He looked pale as a ghost.

"What, you mean everyone coming back from dinner?" she asked, unconcerned.

Draco shook his head. "No, it was Harry, he was calling for help. I think he's hurt." Draco's eyes were wild and fear was all over his face. "Granger, we have to find him!"

Hermione was smart enough to know not to question what Draco had heard. "Okay, okay, don't panic. Where did his voice come from?"

Draco's face was screwed up as if he were in physical pain. "It was behind us," he said breathlessly. "Harry's somewhere behind us. I'm going to him."

He turned around and began to sprint down the corridor, Hermione at his heels.

''''''''''''''''

Up in Headmaster Dumbledore's office, Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape were having a post dinner chat.

"There is something unusual about Draco Malfoy this year," Snape was saying. "He is getting an inordinate amount of attention from the student body, but he seems not to even notice it. Surely you're aware of this?"

"Something unusual about Mr. Malfoy? You don't say," Dumbledore said mildly. His eyes were twinkling. "Sherbert lemon, Severus?"

Severus Snape resisted the urge to shout something profane at the Headmaster. Obviously this was one of those cases where Dumbledore knew exactly what was going on and was choosing to keep his mouth shut.

Suddenly, an out of breath fairy appeared in one of the portraits.

"Professor Dumbledore," the little fairy squeaked. "There's big trouble."

"What sort of trouble?" Dumbledore asked, rising. The twinkle was gone from his eyes.

"It's Harry Potter, sir," she replied. "He's being attacked."

'''''''''''''''''''

Harry's head was pounding and his vision was blurry, but Justin's words echoed in his head. Bet you won't be so keen to defy the Dark Lord after this. Harry desperately tried to hang onto his sanity. He had to figure out what was going on.

He could feel Justin's teeth against the skin of his neck, and then cried out when the other boy bit hard enough to draw blood.

"Like that, do you?" Justin simpered.

Harry tried to glare at the blur on top of him. "Fuck you," he managed to say.

"Now that's awfully rude. Didn't your mother ever teach you any manners, Potter?" Justin grinned maliciously. "Oh, wait," he continued dramatically. "I forgot. You never had a mother, did you? That mudblood bitch was killed by the Dark Lord, wasn't she?"

Harry snarled in rage, but a thought floated through his furious haze: Justin was muggle-born, like Hermione. Why would he use a term like mudblood?

He didn't have time to keep thinking before Justin sank his teeth into Harry's neck again. Harry cried out with pain and struggled desperately, but Ernie held him down tightly.

Harry could feel hands on the fastenings of his trousers, and he had just about given up everything for lost when -

"STUPEFY!"

Justin and Ernie were thrown off of Harry as each of them was hit in the chest with a ray of light.

Harry tried to sit up, to see what was going on, but the effort was too much. He fell back against the floor. The next instant, two bodies were at his side.

"Harry? Harry? Oh my God, are you alright?"

"Hermione…" Harry said weakly, recognizing the voice and the bushy brown hair. He attempted to sit up again, but strong hands were on his shoulders, holding him down gently.

"Don't you dare try to sit up right now, Potter," another voice scolded. "Are you okay?"

Harry turned his head slightly. "Malfoy?" he asked, his voice cracking. Even without his glasses he knew that platinum hair. "What…"

That was as far as he got before the drugs and exertion finally overwhelmed him, and he lost consciousness.

'''''''''''''''''''

Draco sat perfectly still right now, gazing at Harry's unconscious face. He took in several cuts, a bloody nose and red, swollen patches. His eyes scanned over Harry's torso under his ragged, shredded shirt. His eyes narrowed as he saw matches cuts and forming bruises, and two painful looking bite marks on Harry's neck.

Rage unlike anything he had ever known exploded in the pit of his stomach and coursed through his veins. "Those Hufflepuffs are going to die," he snarled.

He heard the two culprits stirring next to him as the hexes he and Hermione had cast wore off, and he acted without thinking. He jumped to his feet and spotted Harry's wand a couple feet away. Grabbing it, he turned on Justin and Ernie.

"Crucio!" he shouted, pointing a wand at each of the newly awoken Hufflepuffs. Both of them screamed and fell back on the ground, writhing in pain. He had never cast an Unforgivable before but he had no trouble now, and he held them under the curse ruthlessly.

Screams filled the corridor, but at that moment a familiar voice rang out in the corridor.

"Finite Incatatem!"

And the curses stopped.

Draco whirled around, both wands still in his hands, to see who dared to interrupt him. He found himself face to face with the Headmaster and Professor Snape.

Nobody said a word for a moment. Dumbledore and Snape's eyes flicked from the bodies of the two shaking Hufflepuffs to the cold face of Draco Malfoy to Harry lying bruised and bloody on the floor with his head cradled in Hermione's lap.

Dumbledore made a move to speak. "Mr. Malfoy -

But at that instant they all heard a noise that was distinctly out of place.

"There's someone else here!" Draco shouted, and in an instant Severus Snape's wand was drawn.

"Petrificus Totalis," he called out, and there was the muffled thud of a body hitting the floor.

Snape purposefully strode over to the end of the corridor and pointed his wand again.

"Finite Incatatem," he snapped, and the body of Mark Avery, a seventh-year Slytherin, came into view.

"Disillusionment charm," Snape explained, glaring down at his student.

Dumbledore looked very angry. "Thank you, Severus," he said gravely. "It would appear that this situation is even more complicated than I might have first suspected."

His eyes flicked from the petrified body on the floor to the still trembling Hufflepuffs, and he seemed to come to a decision.

"Severus, would you please bring me a vial of Veritaserum, locate Minerva, and both of you meet me in my office as quickly as you can?" Snape nodded abruptly and turned and left.

Dumbledore continued. "Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger, could you please take Mr. Potter to the hospital wing so that Madame Pomphrey can attend to him? Thank you."

"But what about -

"Miss Granger, I promise I shall tell you everything I learn as soon as I can. Right now, Harry needs medical attention, and quickly."

Hermione nodded, and Dumbledore conjured a floating stretcher underneath Harry. Hermione quickly grabbed Harry's broken glasses off the floor. She neatly repaired them with her wand before joining Draco to guide the stretcher, leaving Dumbledore to deal with the three students in the hall.

''''''''''''''

Madame Pomphrey looked horrified when the brought in Harry.

"What happened to him?" she asked, quickly guiding the stretcher over to a bed and gently transferring him over.

Hermione and Draco explained what happened the best that they could, neither of them knowing exactly what had happened.

Madame Pomphrey thanked them, and then tried to shoo them out. Draco shook his head.

"I'm not leaving," he said stubbornly. Madame Pomphrey looked at him, puzzled. The Potter-Malfoy rivalry was well-known throughout the caste. She looked to Hermione for an explanation.

"It's okay, Madame Pomphrey. They're um…friends, now," she tried to explain.

Madame Pomphrey looked at her doubtfully. Hermione smiled weakly.

"May I go get Ron?" she asked. "He's going to be furious, and he'll want to see Harry tonight as well."

Madame Pomphrey looked like she wanted to protest, but at Hermione's pleading look and Draco's stubborn face she sighed and gave him.

'''''''''''''''''''

Hermione returned shortly with the promised red-head. Draco had parked himself in a chair next to Harry's bed and was watching Pomphrey heal Harry's cuts and bruises with concern.

Draco figured Hermione must have explained what happened to Ron and told him that Draco would be there, because the red-head showed no surprise at seeing Draco at Harry's bedside.

"My God," said Ron softly, when he saw Harry's body. His expression hardened. "Those fucking bastards."

"Mr. Weasley, really. Such language." Madame Pomphrey's scolding was half-hearted, however, as she was probably having similar thoughts. She had an obvious soft spot for Harry Potter, who was in and out of her hospital wing multiple times a year.

After a few more moments of healing, Pomphrey left the room, bustling off to get some kind of potion. The three remaining students just stood together silently for a moment.

"Why is he still unconscious?" Ron finally asked, breaking the silence.

Draco answered him. "Pomphrey thinks he was drugged."

"Drugged? So first they incapacitate him, then they beat him, and then they plan to rape him? Lovely," said Hermione angrily.

Ron looked at Draco. "Hermione said you used the Crutiatus curse on them," he said to the blonde.

"Yes, I did," said Draco with no remorse whatsoever. He waited to hear the Gryffindor's horrified reaction.

"Good," said Ron coldly, worried eyes traveling over Harry's body again. Draco raised an eyebrow. Apparently Gryffindor loyalty overcame their squeamishness about Unforgivables.

Madame Pomphrey returned, and the three students watched her work, united in their anxiety for Harry, who was still unconscious on the bed. After about an hour of uneventful silence, Dumbledore appeared.

"How is he, Poppy?" he asked with great concern, and she clucked her tongue and shook her head.

"He'll live," she said tightly, "But he's still unconscious, and I can't seem to rouse him. I'm going to need to keep him overnight." Dumbledore nodded, and turned to the three students.

"Just as well. I have a great deal of information for all of you, but it should wait until morning when Harry is with us. Could we all plan to meet in my office after breakfast, say, around 10am?"

Everyone nodded and turned to leave except Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy? Harry will be fine. Why don't you head down to your dorm?" Dumbledore said gently, but Draco just shook his head.

"I'm not leaving until he wakes up," he said stubbornly, and the headmaster looked at him seriously. After a moment, he nodded.

"Very well, then. But see that you leave after that."

Draco nodded back, and went back to watching Harry, not taking his eyes off him even to say goodbye to the other three.

''''''''''''''''

It was close to midnight, but Draco Malfoy could still be found at Harry's bedside, watching over the other wizard. If the circumstances weren't so horrible, he actually would have very much enjoyed being able to stare at Harry without interruption for long. The moonlight was shining in through the window, illuminating the Gryffindor as he lay in sleep.

Draco took the opportunity to memorize Harry's face - jet black hair spilling over the pillow, long black eyelashes, smooth, tan skin. To Draco, he was perfect. He tentatively reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of Harry's eyes. It was thick and unruly, but softer than it looked, and Draco thought he'd never touched anything so nice in his life.

His eyes roamed downwards, and he began to fidget slightly. Harry's shirt had been nothing but shreds, and as Madame Pomphrey had needed to apply all sorts of healing salves to his torso she had simply removed it and not replaced it with hospital pajamas. The covers had slipped about halfway down Harry's chest, and Draco could see his skin almost glistening in the moonlight.

Most of the bruises had faded by now, leaving Draco to gaze at longingly at all that bare skin and muscle. Harry was slightly taller than Draco, with long limbs and large hands that indicated that he might get a little taller yet. Though he was slim his muscles were well-defined, and his arms looked strong and capable. Draco couldn't help but imagine how those arms might feel around him, those big hands tangled in his hair, as Draco straddled him on the bed and began to softly kiss his healing wounds and -

Draco blinked. He had stood up from his chair and actually gone so far as to place on knee on the bed. He guiltily flopped back into his chair.

"Harry's hurt," he scolded himself. "This is not the time for you to indulge yourself in your sordid little fantasies!"

He knew he should pull the blankets over Harry and hide him from view, but he couldn't do it. He kept staring. His fingers were itching to touch Harry, and his mouth was itching to kiss him.

"You will not," he thought sternly, "take advantage of Harry because he's lying here defenseless and unconscious. You are going to be a gentleman and leave him alone."

Despite his lecture to himself, however, Draco found that he had stood up again. He took a few steps toward the bed and hovered over the other wizard for a moment, watching him. After a moment, he noticed that Harry was shivering.

"There, you see that! You just had to keep looking, and now you've let him get cold!" Draco chastised his libido, reaching down to pull the covers over Harry's chest. He pulled them well over Harry's shoulders, leaning down and tucking him in as gently as he could.

"There you go, Harry," Draco said softly, turning to look down at Harry. His eyes widened as he realized that his face was only inches from Harry's head. All that soft, black hair right under his nose. Surely it wouldn't be violating Harry if Draco just sniffed his hair, right? Just one little sniff?

Feeling only a little silly, Draco touched his nose to the black locks and took a deep breath in. He closed his eyes and gave a small sigh of pleasure. The scent was heavenly, a faint smell of fruit and trees and something that made you think of warm summer nights spent lying on a blanket under the stars. It made him weak. It made him giddy.

It made it impossible not to kiss Harry.

Draco moved slightly, intending to begin at Harry's forehead and kiss his way down to his lips. As he moved in, however, Harry's eyelashes began to flutter as the other boy regained consciousness.

"Draco?"

Harry's sleepy voice made Draco jump back from the bed in alarm.

"Harry! You're…you're awake," he finished lamely, hoping against hope that Harry didn't understand what he had been about to do. Harry seemed pretty out of it still, though, as he squinted up at the blonde.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked fuzzily, looking up at Draco with a puzzled look.

Draco gulped. The most truthful answer - about to kiss your unconscious body - made him sound like a pervert. The second most truthful answer - watching you sleep - sounded way too creepy and stalker-ish.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Oh." Harry was obviously trying to process this and having trouble. He looked back at Draco. "Where am I?"

"Hospital wing," said Draco, cautiously sitting back down in the chair next to him.

"And you're here with me?"

"Um…yes. Look, I…I just wanted to make sure you were okay, alright? That's all."

"Why do you care?" There was no malice or ill feeling behind the words. Harry was genuinely curious.

"I…umm…I…" Draco was stuttering and Harry was looking up at him with those big, pretty eyes, and without his glasses all Draco could see was green reflected in the moonlight. It made him lightheaded. It made him want to tell Harry the truth; that he needed him and loved him and wanted to spend the rest of his life making him happy.

But he didn't think Harry was really ready to hear him say that.

He settled for a more typical Draco Malfoy answer. "Look Potter, those fuckers were dead-set on having their way with you in the corridor, and they banged you up pretty good in the process. Can't I be concerned about your welfare after something like that?"

Harry nodded and yawned. "Yeah, sure, why not?" he mumbled. "Do you know what happened?"

Draco shook his head slightly. "Not really. But don't worry about it right now. We have a meeting in morning, so we'll all find out then. In the meantime, you should rest. Get some more sleep."

"Mmmm, sleep," Harry agreed, closing his eyes and rolling on his side.

"Yes, sleep," Draco said gently, standing up again. Harry's eyes fluttered back open.

"Thank you for saving me," he muttered, looking up at Draco, who smiled sweetly at him.

"Yes, yes. You're welcome. Now go to sleep, you crazy monkey."

He leaned down over Harry to pull the covers back over his shoulders. Harry startled him by lifting a hand to his face.

"Like an angel," Harry mumbled, trailing his fingers down Draco's cheek.

Draco closed his eyes as Harry's touch sent little sparks of pleasure across his skin, and it was all too soon when Harry lowered his arm back down to the bed.

"Night, Draco," he said softly, closing his eyes again.

Draco stood stock still as a breathtaking happiness coursed through his body. Finally, he leaned down over the black-haired boy who was quietly sleeping below him, and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple.

"Goodnight, Harry," he whispered.

And ignoring his promise to Dumbledore he curled back up in the chair next to Harry, watching the rise and fall of Harry's chest until he drifted off to sleep.

6  Evil Plots Afoot

Harry woke up the next morning, still a bit groggy but feeling at least a million times better than he had the night before. He yawned and stretched and instinctively groped for his glasses on the night stand.

His hands brushed the cool metal, and he gratefully slipped them on. Now that everything was in focus, he glanced around and immediately recognized that he was in the Hospital Wing.

He leaned back against his pillows and tried to remember what had happened the night before. Before he could really start, however, he heard a noise next to the bed and turned to look.

And then he melted.

Because in a chair next to Harry's bed was Draco Malfoy, curled up in little ball and fast asleep. His normally impeccable blonde locks were messy, his eyes were closed, and his face was relaxed and peaceful. He was utterly adorable.

Harry stayed absolutely silent, reluctant to wake him up. What was Draco doing in the Hospital Wing with him? For that matter, why was Harry in the hospital wing in the first place? He couldn't remember much of what happened after he'd left the Gryffindor table.

He continued watching Draco sleep for a few more moments, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest and listening to his soft breathing. He took a moment to appreciate how Draco's hair fell so easily around his face, unlike Harry's own cow-licked mess. He noticed Draco's blonde eyebrows and his blonde eyelashes, nearly invisible against the porcelain skin of his face.

Draco had taken off his tie at some point in the night, and unbuttoned the first couple buttons of his shirt. Harry could see his collarbone now, and even in his slightly fuzzy early morning state he had the odd urge to lick it. It wasn't as strong as his desire had been in the library the other night, but it was becoming very clear to Harry that his feeling as far as Draco Malfoy was concerned were not of the let's just be friends, shall we variety.

''''''''''''''''''''

There was a loud noise in a nearby room, and Draco's eyelashes fluttered open. He groaned softly, grimacing as he uncurled his long limbs and stretched like a cat. He looked around, bewildered for a moment, and then it all came back to him.

Like lightening his attention was focused on the bed. What he saw made his heart swell with happiness and his mind cringe in embarrassment.

Harry was sitting up in bed, studying Draco, a soft smile playing on his lips. Draco felt his cheeks flush slightly. He had been planning to wake up before Harry and sneak down to his dorm for a shower, and then return to the Hospital wing so that Harry wouldn't know he had been here all night. Well, looked like his secret was out.

"Do you make a point of being at all your schoolyard rivals' bedsides when they wake up from injury?" Harry queried, the smile now slightly teasing.

"Nope. Just you, Potter," Draco responded dryly, the flush deepening ever so slightly.

"Lucky me," Harry replied, and it really sounded like he meant it.

That soothed Draco's embarrassed pride, but he still hastened to change the subject. "Hey, Potter, what do you remember from last night?" he asked, wondering if Harry could recall their midnight conversation. Harry just shook his head.

"Nothing, really. I can't remember anything."

Draco wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed; he had almost kissed Harry, which he certainly didn't want Harry to remember, but Harry had also used his first name, thanked him, and called him an angel. Maybe he was being sappy, but he kind of wanted Harry to remember that.

Looked like he was out of luck, though. Harry was looking bemusedly at his half-dressed state. "Malfoy, do you know what happened to me yesterday?"

Draco just shrugged. "I was hoping you could tell me. All I know is I heard you shouting for help, and when Granger and I found you, you were at the mercy of two Hufflepuff bastards and - "

Draco was unable to continue as rage flared up in his chest. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. It really wouldn't do to show Harry how angry he was. He didn't want the Gryffindor to suspect that something was amiss. More than he probably already did.

Harry didn't look like he was paying attention to Draco's anger, though. He was too busy looking angry himself.

"I remember that part now," he said, gritting his teeth. He glanced down at his bare chest, then turned back to Draco. "Pomphrey healed me up, then?"

Draco nodded. As if on cue, Madame Pomphrey chose that moment to come into the room.

She smiled warmly at the Harry, who smiled back. They appeared to be genuinely fond of each other. Madame Pomphrey's eyes narrowed slightly, however, when she saw Draco in the chair next to Harry.

"Mr. Malfoy, please tell me you haven't been here all night?" She clucked disapprovingly. "The Headmaster told you to return to your dorm."

Draco stared defiantly at her and refused to answer. She sighed and moved to check Harry's injuries. She pointed her wand at him and said a few spells, and seemed pleased with the results.

"Well, Mr. Potter, it looks like you're going to be just fine. In fact, if you like, you can run along to your dorm and get a shower before breakfast."

Harry nodded. "Thank you for everything," he said charmingly to the nurse, who smiled dotingly at him.

"Of course. Now off with you. And try to stay out of the hospital for a least a couple weeks this time, will you?"

Harry grinned at the nurse as she left the room, completely missing the stricken expression on Draco's face. Draco hadn't known Harry was in the hospital wing often. Did he get hurt a lot? That was unacceptable. Draco would make sure that from now on Harry took better care of himself, and stopped getting hurt, and didn't get into risky situations and -

Draco groaned inwardly. He could deal with the lust factor now. He wasn't sure he could deal with turning into a mother hen.

Draco turned as Harry threw back the covers and started to stand. In a smooth movement Draco grabbed his robe off the chair and tossed it to Harry. Harry gave him an odd look. Draco shrugged.

"You're not wearing a shirt, Potter, and Hogwarts isn't exactly known to be a tropical paradise," he explained. "Besides, I don't think you want to be prancing through the halls half-naked. Unless you're some kind of closet exhibitionist, of course."

Draco chose not to mention the fact that the thought of someone else seeing Harry undressed made him furiously jealous.

Harry, however, looked grateful for the robe. "Thanks," he said, pulling it on. He stood up, fastening the first couple clasps to hold the robe on. It fit fairly well, except for being the tiniest bit short in the arms and showing a sliver of Harry's bare wrists.

"Shall we go?" Draco asked. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"We?"

"Yes, we. I'm walking you back to your dorm, Potter."

Harry's face was amused. "What am I, your girlfriend?" he teased.

Not yet, was on the tip of Draco's tongue, but he chose a different response.

"No, you're a Gryffindor idiot who's just gotten out of the hospital after being attacked. If you had an ounce of Slytherin self-preservation you'd realize that you oughtn't be alone right now, hence I am walking you back to your dorm."

"Hence? Who says hence anymore?"

Draco scowled. "Shut up, Potter, and get moving."

'''''''''''''''''

"I didn't need you to walk me back, you know," Harry hastened to prove as he and Draco walked along the corridor together. "I'm perfectly capable of looking out for myself."

"Of course you are. That's why you're always in mortal danger. Your impeccable ability to look out for yourself."

"Oh…bite me, Malfoy."

"Smashing comeback, Potter. What's your encore? You suck?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of sod off, you stupid tosser."

"How equally eloquent. Well, if it soothes your wounded manly pride then you can go on believing that you are capable of looking out for yourself. I, however, will of course know the truth: that poor little Harry Potter needs big, strong Draco Malfoy to look out for him."

"Big, strong Draco Malfoy? I don't know any big, strong Draco Malfoys. I only know a short, runty git Draco Malfoy. Is that who you mean?"

"I am not a runt, you stupid oaf! I'm the same size as you."

"Are not. You're a tichy little thing."

"Potter, you are wearing my robe right now. Obviously we're the same size."

"Yes, but look how short it is on me! My wrists and ankles are poking out."

"That's because my bone structure is more refined than yours."

"No, it's because you're short."

"Oh…bite me, Potter."

''''''''''''''''''

They were still engaged in their playful bickering when they reached the portrait.

"Hullo, Harry dear," said the Fat Lady dotingly to one of her favorite Gryffindors. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, this is Draco Malfoy," said Harry, presenting him to the portrait. The Fat Lady eyed him critically.

"A Malfoy, hmmm? Well, I can't say I care much for Malfoys, as none of their lot has ever been decent enough to be sorted into Gryffindor. But he certainly is pretty."

Draco, who had looked rather offended at her comments about his family, now looked extraordinarily put out at being called "pretty" by a painting. Harry was fighting back a laugh.

"Now see here you silly painting, I'll have you know -

Harry clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Malfoy, be nice," he admonished, and turned back to the Fat Lady. "Golden Snidget," he said, and the painting swung open.

Harry dragged Malfoy into the Gryffindor common room, keeping his hand firmly over the blonde's mouth to prevent him from launching a diatribe at the Fat Lady. Once inside, he removed his hand and Draco glared at him.

"Do you manhandle all your guests to Gryffindor tower, Potter?" the blonde spat, a pout forming on his face.

Harry smiled sweetly at him. "Why yes. Didn't you know? It's standard Gryffindor procedure. My next move will be to have you bound, gagged and at my mercy on the floor of the common room."

Harry watched, puzzled, as Draco's eyes became huge and a light pink color rose into his cheeks.

"You okay?" Harry asked.

"Who, me? Oh fine, fine. Just thinking about bondage with you - I mean, bonding with you," Draco said, now blushing even more. "You know, male bonding and all."

Harry had the distinct impression he was missing something.

"Oh, well…okay then," he said and unfastened the first clip that held his robe on.

"OhmyGodwhatareyoudoing?" Draco burst out.

Harry shrugged. "I thought I'd return your robe. Thanks for letting me borrow it." His hand slipped to the next clip.

Draco looked slightly panicked. "But you're not wearing anything under that robe!"

"Yeah, I know, but so what?" Harry asked, more puzzled then ever. He undid the third clasp. "Look, it'll just take a second and I can give you back your -

"Nonononono!" Draco said, shaking his head frantically. "Keep it. Not that I don't appreciate the strip show you're offering me - I mean, your generosity, but you should leave the robe on in case I shag you. I mean, slag you. Off. Slag you off. Right. See you at the meeting!"

And with that odd, babbled statement, Draco bolted from the common room.

''''''''''''''''

Later that morning, during breakfast, Harry, Ron and Hermione discussed the events of the previous night. Hermione filled Harry in on the basics of what had happened after he passed out. Harry was stunned to find out Draco had used an Unforgivable curse on his attacker.

"He used the Crutiatus curse? He must have been so angry," Harry commented to Hermione.

"He was. He was furious," Hermione concurred, flipping a page in Love Potions and Spells: A Godsend or Hell on Earth?

"That's so weird," Ron said thoughtfully. "I mean, not that I'm not glad he did it, because they truly deserved it, but I thought Malfoy hated you, Harry. I can't believe he came to your defense like that."

"I know," said Harry. "And get this: this morning, he walked me back to my dorm from the hospital wing. Maybe he's turning over a new leaf or something."

"Maybe he's got a little crush on you," Ron joked.

Hermione choked on her drink.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," she said severely, quickly shoving her book under the table. "Malfoy doesn't have a crush on Harry; he's just acting like a decent human being for once in his life, that's all."

"I know, I was only kidding," Ron said, sounding slightly taken aback by her tone. Hermione smiled weakly back.

"Oh, right. Sorry," she said, sliding her book into her bag discreetly. "Well, I'm off to the library. I'll see you two in Dumbledore's office at ten, then?"

"Sure thing," Harry replied, a bit puzzled by her reaction but letting it slide. She left and Ron turned back to Harry.

"Seriously, though, something is different about Malfoy this year. Apologies, rescuing Gryffindors, people staring at him constantly, all the fan mail -

"What fan mail?" Harry asked, a little more sharply than he had intended. Ron jerked his head in the direction of the Slytherin table.

"See for yourself."

Harry looked over at Draco. Next to the blonde's plate of whipped cream, powdered sugar and maple syrup that might have had a waffle on it somewhere, was indeed an enormous stack of letters.

"Malfoy's been getting tons of fan mail this year," Ron continued. "Most of Hogwarts fancies him like mad. I heard that even Witch Weekly is considering putting him on one of their covers."

Harry narrowed his eyes slightly. He didn't like that. Not one bit. And maybe Draco wasn't his, and he had no right to be jealous, but that didn't change the fact that he welcomed competition for Draco like Dudley welcomed the sight of a celery stick.

''''''''''''''''

At ten o'clock that morning, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco assembled as planned in the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore motioned for them all to sit down. If he was surprised that Draco Malfoy had been involved in the rescue of Harry Potter, and was now sitting civilly in a room with three Gryffindors whom he supposedly hated, he didn't show it. Instead, Dumbledore sighed deeply, and looked at the group over his half-moon glasses.

"It would appear that our situation here is more complicated than I had ever suspected," he began, looking at Harry and Draco specifically. "And in order for everyone to appreciate the severity of things, can I trust that nothing that is said here will leave this room?"

Everyone nodded in agreement. Dumbledore continued.

"First, I would like to commend Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy on their spectacular rescue of Mr. Potter yesterday. Professor Snape and I managed to find Harry after being informed by one of my portraits, but we might have been too late to save him. Twenty points each to Slytherin and Gryffindor."

Only twenty? He's Harry fucking Potter, we ought to get 100 each, Draco thought sullenly to himself. He glanced slightly sideways and caught Harry's eye. Harry shyly mouthed thank you in his direction, and suddenly house points were the last thing on Draco's mind.

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione spoke up, interrupting Draco's thoughts. "Did you happen to find out what they used to drug Harry?"

"I did indeed, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said slowly. "I must admit, I am thoroughly surprised by the method. Harry, you of course know that you are highly resistant to any form of magic which affects the mind. That is why you can throw off the Imperious curse. Instead of taking chances with magical spells such as the Confundus charm or a Befuddlement drought, it would appear that your attackers chose to use a muggle drug."

"A muggle drug?" Ron asked, incredulous.

"That makes sense," Hermione said, nodding crisply. "There are several muggle drugs available that cloud the mind and affect judgment, and they are used in attempted rapes all the time. And Harry wouldn't have any kind of immunity to something like that."

"Exactly, Miss Granger."

"How are these types of drugs used?" asked Draco, who had kept a close watch on Harry the entire night and wondered when he could have possibly been drugged.

"Well, they come in several different forms, including powder," Hermione explained. "There are some that will dissolve in liquid. Often they are completely colorless and odorless, so the victim has no idea that their drink has been doctored."

"Ernie could have easily slipped it into my pumpkin juice while I was eating. I know I wasn't paying close attention." Harry's expression hardened. "But why? I don't understand why two people whom I considered friends would suddenly choose to attack me like that."

Dumbledore gave Harry an intense look over the top of his glasses. "I trust someone filled you in on the events which occurred after you passed out, Harry?"

Harry nodded, and Dumbledore continued.

"With the use of the Veritaserum from Professor Snape, we questioned both Mr. Finch-Fletchley and Mr. MacMillian as well as Mr. Avery. It would appear that the two young men from Hufflepuff were being controlled by the Imperious curse."

"Of course," said Harry, pieces clicking in place.

"What do you mean, of course?" Hermione asked, and Harry proceeded to explain how he found Justin's behavior extremely out of character, his slightly unfocused eyes, and his mentions of the Dark Lord and calling Harry's mother a mudblood.

Dumbledore nodded. "It appears that there are two students at Hogwarts who are seeking to become Death Eaters. The attack on you last night was a sort of "initiation," if you will. The students were to use the Imperious curse on two other students and attack you, Harry. The more damage they did, the higher their esteem in Lord Voldemort's eyes. Mr. Avery was controlling the actions of Mr. MacMillian."

"What about Justin?" Hermione asked. "We only caught one other person besides the two Hufflepuffs."

"Very observant, Miss Granger. I ascertained from Mr. Avery that there is another recruit here at Hogwarts who has been controlling Justin Finch-Fletchley's actions over the past two days. It has long been the custom, however, of Lord Voldemort to keep even his closet supporters in the dark about who he works with. Therefore, Mr. Avery only knows he is working with another Slytherin. He does not know the identity of the other, more dangerous student."

"Is that why Justin attacked Harry night before last?" Ron asked, and Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes. It would appear that the task was initially given to only one recruit, and he attempted to sexually assault Mr. Potter that first night. However, Mr. Potter was able to overcome his attacker, and return to his dorm only mildly injured, thus prompting our unknown Death Eater recruit to join forces with the other recruit and include drugging Harry first as part of the plan."

"Sexual assault? You didn't say a word about that, Potter," spat Draco, narrowing his eyes at Harry. Hermione and Ron were looking at Harry in surprise as well.

"Is that true, Harry?" asked Hermione.

Harry squirmed slightly in his seat. "Well, I guess he did try," Harry said, a little too casually. He appeared to be bracing himself for the inevitable outpouring of scolding from his friends.

"Harry! You should have told us!" Hermione chided, her voice appalled. "There was no reason to keep that a secret! You could have been seriously hurt, and you didn't say anything?"

"Yes, what the hell were you thinking, Potter? You didn't think it was important to tell people this? That was important information that we all should have know," Draco said angrily.

"Yeah, mate, I can't believe I agree with Malfoy on something, but honestly, why didn't you mention this?" Even Ron was bewildered.

Harry remained unaffected. "Look, I appreciate your concern, but in case you don't remember, I beat Justin pretty badly that first night. He didn't succeed."

"That's still no excuse," Draco snapped furiously. "Why didn't you tell someone?"

"I didn't want to worry anyone, okay? I thought I had handled things just fine myself," Harry seethed, sounding as if he was getting annoyed.

Luckily, Dumbledore broke in before things could get too heated. "Whatever the case may be with Mr. Potter's decision to keep this information to himself," he said, interrupting the glares between Harry and Draco, "the point is that while we have Mr. Avery in custody, there is still a Death Eater initiate at large at Hogwarts. We don't know who they are, or when they will attempt to strike again."

"So Potter is still in danger," Draco pointed out, mentally assigning himself guard duty.

Dumbledore looked at him seriously. "As are you, Mr. Malfoy. In fact, you may be in more danger than Mr. Potter is right now."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry, and Draco was happy to hear a slight note of anxiety in Harry's voice.

"In order for you three to understand the whole situation I will give you the entire truth. The Malfoy family is no longer under the services of Lord Voldemort. Lucius Malfoy is now a member of the Order of the Phoenix and a spy for our side."

Harry started and turned to Draco, who nodded his head. Ron looked completely disbelieving, but held his tongue. Surprisingly enough Hermione looked less than surprised by the news.

Harry turned back to Dumbledore and opened his mouth - most likely to argue, considering what his last run-in with Lucius Malfoy was like -but Dumbledore held up his hand.

"I know what you are thinking, Harry. And I cannot give you all the details right now. I do not know all of them myself. Suffice to say, I am convinced that Lucius Malfoy is indeed sincere in his intention. He continues to report to Lord Voldemort as a Death Eater and to place himself in great personal risk to provide us with information. And it may interest you three to know as well hat young Mr. Malfoy here has never intended to become a Death Eater."

Ron snorted under his breath, earning himself a spiteful glare from Draco, but Harry looked absolutely relieved. Draco couldn't blame him. If Harry was indeed developing a slight crush on Draco (Draco crossed his fingers on that one), it would certainly come as a relief to learn that Draco hadn't ever planned on killing him.

"Professor," Draco began hesitantly. "I don't quite understand. Why am I now in danger as well?"

"Because, Mr. Malfoy, the remaining Death Eater has reported your actions last night to Voldemort, who, needless to say, is not very happy with you right now."

Dumbledore addressed the rest of his explanation to all four of the students in front of him. "Lord Voldemort had been planning on recruiting Draco at one point, or so we have heard from Draco's father. However, because Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger are the ones responsible for interfering with the initiation and protecting Mr. Potter, it has come to Lord Voldemort's attention that Draco will not be joining his forces after all. Voldemort sees this as a betrayal."

"I never planned to join the Death Eaters," Draco said vehemently.

"I know that, Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore seriously. "However, it would seem that Voldemort has now marked you as a target. The remaining unknown Death Eater now has a mission which involves you as his initiation. Unfortunately, we do not have the details. All we know is that the recruit is another Slytherin, and still at large, therefore your safety is in jeopardy and we are going to have to take measures to protect you. We would like to move your sleeping quarters to a safer area of the castle. Now, the dorm in which Harry sleeps is one of the best warded places in the castle. However, moving you, a Slytherin prefect, into a Gryffindor dormitory is not really a feasible option."

Draco opened his mouth to say actually, Professor, I can think of nothing I'd like better but wisely closed it without saying anything. He waited for Professor Dumbledore to continue.

"So for the time being, we have decided to move you into a private room. If this is agreeable to you, I can have the house elves start moving your things this afternoon."

This was more than agreeable to Draco. Goyle and Crabbe were alright but had a tendency to snore like sleeping dragons. Besides that, all his roommates seemed to spend an awful lot of time staring at Draco this year, and it was beginning to grate on his nerves. Not to mention that there were still times when they insisted on spouting that ridiculous babble at him, always at the most inopportune times and always interrupting his better Harry-fantasies.

He nodded at Dumbledore, who beamed back at him. "Excellent. Rest assured that we will be doing everything in our power to track down the other Death Eater recruit. In the meantime, however, I would suggest that all of you exercise the utmost caution at all times. We do not know who the recruit is, nor do we know what exactly his instructions are."

Draco, figuring they were about done, almost rose before Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"There is one other potential complication that you should be aware of, and it concerns Mr. Malfoy's use of an Unforgivable curse on his fellow students."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "I had to! They were beating Harry senseless! He was covered in blood and Finch-Fletchley was ripping at his pants! Anyone would have been mind-bendingly furious!"

Dumbledore held up a hand. "I realize that the situation was extreme. However, things could potentially get very messy for you, Mr. Malfoy, should the students' parents choose to press charges."

"Justin's parents are muggles, they won't," Hermione said earnestly. "But I don't know about Ernie's. However, maybe there are extenuating circumstances."

Hermione looked at Draco, who met her eyes. He shook his head ever so slightly. He wasn't about to inform the room that he was in love with Harry. If it came down to a trial, he would admit that he was most likely under the effects of a love potion and therefore unable to act rationally. But he wasn't about to admit that now.

Dumbledore watched their interaction, but did not ask for clarification. He merely continued to speak. "For now, I think we shouldn't worry about it. I will let you know how things go. In the meantime, why don't you four head to Hogsmeade? It's a lovely day. Draco, Professor Snape will take you to your new quarters after dinner tonight. Thank you all."

And sensing their cue to go, the four students rose from their chair and left the room, Hermione deep in thought, Harry and Draco stealing surreptitious glances at each other, and Ron taking with him a handful of sherbert lemons.

7 Getting to Know You

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco had just left Dumbledore's office and were wandering towards the Entrance Hall, planning on heading out to Hogsmeade, when Harry paused suddenly.

"You guys go on ahead," he motioned to the other three. "I forgot to bring any money with me. I just need to run back up to the tower and grab some, and then I'll catch up."

Ron and Hermione shrugged, but Draco shook his head.

"Don't be silly, Potter. You shouldn't be walking alone to Hogsmeade right now."

Harry folded his arms across his chest and glared, so Draco quickly amended his statement.

"I meant that neither of us should be walking anywhere alone right now. Besides, I can run down to my dorms and get my cloak while I wait for you."

Harry looked torn between defending his ability to take care of himself and wanting to spend more time alone with Draco. Finally he gave in.

"Alright, Malfoy. If you insist." Harry turned to Ron and Hermione. "So can we just meet up with you in the Three Broomsticks later this afternoon?"

Hermione was giving Draco a slightly suspicious look, but Ron looked quite happy with the prospect. He always looked quite happy with the prospect of time alone with Hermione. "Later, mate," he said, pulling Hermione away from the pair.

"Meet you back here in ten minutes? That's good for me, is that good for you too?"

"Why Potter, you're such a gentleman. How sweet of you to want to make it good for me too."

With cheeks slightly pink from Draco's surely innocent words, Harry bolted for his dorm.

''''''''''''''''

After Harry and Draco met up again (Harry with cheeks back to normal color) they set off for Hogmeade. They purposefully ignored the looks they were getting from their very confused schoolmates as they walked together.

"So, how does it feel to be a target?" Harry asked, as they walked along the well-worn path.

"Eh," Draco said with a shrug. "It's kind of anti-climatic. Besides, you know damn well what it's like to be a walking target. You-Know-Who's been after you for years."

Harry conceded this was true. They walked in silence for a couple more moments, and then Harry asked a question he was dying to know the answer to.

"Hey Malfoy?"

"What?"

"You said you never wanted to become a Death Eater."

"That's true. What's your point?"

"I was just wondering why not," Harry said hesitantly.

Draco thought for a moment. "Well, there are lots of good reasons. I hate pain, and I don't fancy working for someone who uses the Crutiatus curse the way the Dark Lord does. And while I might be a bit prejudiced against mud…muggleborns, I don't necessarily want to see them all dead. Then there's the sex thing, obviously. And of course there's the issue of you."

"Me?" Harry asked, startled. "What about me?"

"Well, you've beaten Voldemort quite a few times, and I can't shake the feeling that one of these days you're going to beat him for good. So I'm not anxious to join his side."

Harry stopped in his tracks and stared openly at Draco. He knew the blonde had no idea about the prophecy, but to hear someone just come out and support him like that meant the world to Harry.

Then Harry remembered something. "Wait. Hang on a second," he said, dashing forward a bit to catch back up with Draco. "The sex thing? What sex thing?" He didn't quite pull off the nonchalant tone he was hoping for.

Draco smirked at him. "Oh, just that I'd rather spend my time having hot sex with other boys than wearing a mask and torturing people. Personal preference, you understand."

"Oh." Harry was intrigued. "So…you're gay?"

"Gee, Potter, how did you miss that? You're obviously not as sharp as you're rumored to be, and considering the rumors you should be quite worried."

"Oh hush up, Malfoy."

"Do you have a problem with guys liking guys?" Draco asked, and now he was the one who didn't quite pull off a nonchalant tone of voice.

"Of course not," Harry answered. "People fancy who they fancy."

"Mmm, yes, exactly," Draco said thoughtfully. "Ever think you could fancy a bloke?" He looked almost nervous he asked this question.

To Harry's horror, he realized he was blushing again.

"Um…I haven't really thought about it," Harry lied, not wanting to confess that yes, actually, he had recently spent a lot of time fancying another bloke.

Draco gave him a calculating look, obviously noticing his blush and his blatant lie, and beamed.

"Well, Potter…you should think about it. Especially if you're going to go around calling other guys angels and such," he tacked on much too casually.

Harry stopped walking again. "What are you talking about?" he asked suspiciously.

Draco looked much too innocent. "Oh, nothing," he called over his shoulder, as he continued to walk. "Just something that happened last night in the hospital wing. I take it you don't remember."

Harry took a few quick steps to catch back up to Draco. "Did I do something last night I should know about?" he asked, a little fearful of the answer.

"Oh, I don't know. Nothing too scandalous."

Harry looked at him warily. "Are you implying that I called you an angel last night?"

Draco looked rather smug. "You might have."

Harry groaned in embarrassment and covered his face. "You have got to be kidding me," he mumbled into his hands

"I'm not. But don't be too embarrassed, it was quite sweet, actually." He paused. "Do you remember anything from last night, Potter?"

Harry thought hard, his cheeks still burning. He vaguely remembered something pale leaning over him - that must have been Draco, and that must have been what caused the angel remark. Still, the majority of his night was really one big black spot after the attack. He finally shook his head.

"I remember Justin and Ernie," Harry said, not noticing how Draco tensed up at the names. "And I remember seeing you and Hermione and thinking I had never been so glad to see anybody in my entire life."

Harry noticed Draco smiling at that remark, and smiled back. "Yeah, I know, I can't believe it either, but I was absolutely thrilled to see you, Malfoy. Guess there's got to be a first time for everything."

Harry watched with a grin as Draco's face took on a pouty expression. "Shows what you know," the blonde said with an injured air. "Loads of people are absolutely thrilled to see me at any time, not just when they're in desperate need of a rescue."

"I know," said Harry, a little too quickly. "All those millions of fangirls and fanboys you've got." Harry was extremely pleased that he had kept the jealousy out of his voice.

Well, most of it.

"Mmm, yes," Draco said thoughtfully. "I won't deny that after all these years of watching you get hounded by fans, it is rather fun to be a bit of a celebrity."

Harry couldn't hold back a bit of sarcasm. "Oh, yeah. Such fun. All these complete strangers who think they're madly in love with you. And then the press gets a hold of you and splatters ridiculous stories about your love life all over for everyone to read, and then you get even more fan mail from people who now think they know everything about you but really, they don't know you at all."

Harry paused. "Not that I'm bitter," he finished, rather sheepishly.

Harry watched as Draco pursed his lips and gave Harry an examining look. "I bet I know you better than almost anyone else, Potter," he finally said.

Harry scoffed at this. "What? That's ridiculous, how could you know me? We've been rivals for five years."

"That's why I know you. The whole "know thine enemy" bit. I'm telling you, I know you better than most people. Even most of your Gryffindor friends."

"No way, Malfoy."

"Don't believe me?" Draco said challengingly. "Fine, I'll prove it. Go ahead and ask me a question about you. Anything."

Harry shrugged. "Alright…when's my birthday?"

"July 31. You're a Leo," Draco replied promptly. "And several months younger than me, I might add."

Harry gave him a withering look. "You would lord that over me. Okay, new question…what do I have as a pet?"

"A snowy owl named Hedwig that you've had since first year."

"How do you know that?" Harry demanded.

Draco sighed. "Everyone knows that. Your owl is bloody gorgeous. Ask me something harder."

"Alright…well…what's my favorite color?"

"You say red, because you're a Gryffindor, but really, it's green and you just don't want to admit it because that's a Slytherin color."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "How did you…I don't even think Ron knows that about me."

"I told you - I know you. Keep going."

"What's my favorite Quidditch team?"

"Oooh, very nice, Potter. That's a trick question. You don't have one. Ron likes the Chudley Cannons but you haven't picked a team yet because you're not ready to form any kind of permanent allegiance to one team or another since you're good enough to play professionally one day. You want to keep your options open. Very Slytherin of you, actually."

Harry was just staring at him. "You're starting to scare me, Malfoy."

Draco just smirked. "Keep 'em coming, Potter."

"Favorite dessert?"

"Treacle tart."

"Post-graduation ambitions?"

"You want to be an Auror, but that means passing Potions for the next two years. Good luck with that."

"Okay, so what's my favorite subject then?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts. Predictable, really.

"Most treasured possession?"

"I don't know exactly what you've got because you've been quite secretive, but anything you have from your parents. Or maybe your Firebolt."

"Good God," Harry said, thunderstruck. "How do you know all this stuff? I don't know anything about you."

"I told you, I know you. I know you better than most people. And you'd be surprised what you know about me, Potter. For example, what's my favorite color?"

Harry thought for a moment, and surprisingly, he knew the answer. "Its silver, isn't it? You wear silver all the time."

Draco smiled. "And why do I like silver?"

Harry took a guess. "Both because it's a Slytherin color and because it matches your eyes."

"Very good. And what do I keep as a pet?"

Harry thought again. "You have an eagle owl. And he brings you tons of stuff from home."

Draco appeared amused by this observation, but merely nodded. "What's my favorite food?"

"Anything with sugar in it," said Harry, growing more confident.

"Qudditch team?"

"Falmouth Falcons."

"Favorite subject?"

"Potions."

"Birthday?"

"I don't know the exact - oh, wait. I do. It's December 16th. I've seen you get really good presents from home on that day. Wow, I had no idea I knew that about you."

Draco grinned. "I told you that you knew me better than you thought you did. Now, a hard one. What's my greatest ambition?"

"Well, I think it used to be…maybe…to beat me. In Quidditch, in life, in whatever." Harry paused. "Now, I'm not so sure."

Draco smiled gently at him. "You're right. It used to be to beat you. Now, I'm not so sure, either."

"So what changed, then?" Harry asked curiously. "Why don't you want to beat me anymore?"

"Oh, I still want to beat you," Draco reassured him. "It's just not my greatest ambition anymore. And as to what changed..." Draco seemed slightly uncomfortable. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just growing up."

Harry and Draco rounded the corner and the village of Hogsmeade was in front of them.

"Well, whatever happened, I'm glad," Harry said sincerely. "You're quite nice when you're not a total dick, you know."

"How very eloquent, Potter," Draco said sarcastically, but his tone was more teasing than rude. They began walking towards the village and Harry turned to grin at Draco.

"Look, I bet I even know where you want to go first. Honeyduke's, right?"

"And what makes you think that?" Draco asked, curious.

"Your wicked sweet tooth. Honestly, Malfoy, you shouldn't eat so much sugar. It can make you hyper. And it's bad for your teeth."

"Why Potter, I didn't know you cared. Now who told you that? I'd stake my money on Granger."

"Well, maybe. Her parents are dentists. She's always at Ron and me about eating too much sugar."

Draco gave Harry an appraising look. "Yeah, well, your teeth are fine, so I wouldn't worry. And yes, I want to go to Honeyduke's first. And then I'd assume we're going to Zonko's, unless you don't shop there anymore because of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."

"Malfoy, you are very, very scary," was all Harry said in response, and the pair trudged off to Honeyduke's.

''''''''''''

They spent a very productive afternoon shopping and wandering around. Harry noticed that wherever they went, people seemed to stare at Draco. And not just take casual glances. Outright stares. And sometimes people would start shouting crazy things at him, like "I'm a galleonaire! With my own dragon importing business! And I think I love you!" or "I'm going to be the next Minister of Magic! And I'm bloody gorgeous! Marry me!"

Harry mentioned this to Draco, who shrugged.

"Yeah, people have been doing that around me lately. It's bloody weird. But it's no big deal; I bet they do it to you to."

Harry was pretty sure complete strangers had never shouted marriage proposals at him, but if Draco wasn't fazed by it then Harry would try not to let it get to him either.

A gangly, buck-toothed woman with scraggly hair chose that moment to shout out, "Hey Blondie! You're divine! I want to have your baby!"

Harry bit back a chuckle, but Draco didn't even flinch. In fact, he seemed to have not even heard her. His attention was completely focused on Harry, which made Harry almost giddily happy and flattered.

They bought loads of sweets at Honeyduke's, and Harry quickly stepped up to the register to pay for it all, earning himself some raised eyebrows from his blonde companion.

"What are we, on a date?" Draco teased.

Harry colored slightly but kept his voice steady. "Of course not. Don't be silly. You saved my life, the least I can do is buy you chocolate."

"My hero," Draco simpered, but eagerly accepted three sacks filled with his favorite Honeyduke's sweets.

'''''''''''''

They finally met up with Ron and Hermione at the Three Broomsticks. The two Gryffindors were seated at a table together, drinking butterbeers and chatting enthusiastically with each other.

Harry and Draco joined them, Harry ordering another butterbeer and Draco ordering a glass of pumpkin juice. Conversation went surprisingly easy between the four of them, considering the addition of one of their previous enemies. Draco went out of his way to be if not exactly charming, not sneering and rude either.

It didn't hurt that Hermione and Ron kept staring at him rather dreamily. They never went so far as to actually say anything ridiculous, though, so everyone was spared any kind of truly embarrassing situation.

It was almost dinner time, so the quartet left the Three Broomsticks (Draco picked up the tab, shocking everyone) and began walking back to Hogwarts. Close to the grounds Hermione fell into step next to Draco, trailing slightly behind Ron and Harry. "So, how was your day?" she asked, innocently as she could.

Draco merely smiled enigmatically. "Fine."

"Fine? Did you guys do anything fun?" she continued, still pressing for information. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Granger, stop trying to pry. He bought me sweets. We chatted. That's it."

"Just remember what I said," Hermione said warningly. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "No flirting with him, no seducing him, and no trying to make him fall in love with you. I'm not going to see him get hurt when this love potion wears off."

"Oh yes. Um…about that, Granger," said Draco, striving for nonchalance. Over the past couple days he had grown very fond of being in love with Harry, and was no longer eager to get over it. "I think I may have been a bit hasty to think this is all a love potion. I mean, really, maybe I am just in love with Harry. You ever think about that?"

Hermione scoffed. "Oh really? And what was it you used to call me, Malfoy? A very rude term about my muggle heritage, if I remember correctly."

Draco's cheeks turned slightly pink. "Oh, um…muggle-born?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "No. It was much ruder. Let's hear you say the word again, shall we? For old time's sake?"

"But I can't say that word, you know that," Draco hissed under his breath.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "That is exactly my point. You weren't hasty, you were right. Something magic is at work here. And I'm going to figure out what."

Draco was going to reply, but at that moment Ron and Harry turned around. "Hey you two, hurry it up, will you?" Ron said impatiently. "We're starving."

"Yeah, we're - Oh my God, Malfoy, don't move," Harry said, eyes going very wide.

"What? What's wro - "

"I said DON'T MOVE," Harry ordered in a desperate voice, and Draco felt his body freeze in place, one foot in the air. Horrified, his wide eyes met Hermione's, and then traveled up to meet Harry's. Only Harry wasn't there any longer, because he was now on his knees on the dirt road.

A low hissing noise was coming from under Draco's foot, and the blonde realized with a start that he had almost stepped on the snake that was now winding itself around Draco's ankle. Draco gulped. He could have sworn he felt the snake's tongue on his skin and he fervently hoped he wasn't about to get bitten. He heard more hissing, and then realized with a start that this hissing noise was coming from Harry.

Draco listened in awe. He hadn't heard Harry speak Parseltongue since their second year. It was easy to forget that Harry was a Parselmouth - it didn't really fit in to his image of the perfect Gryffindor golden boy.

Harry was now standing up, holding a small, brightly colored snake in his arms. Three pairs of questioning eyes looked at him.

"This is Isis," Harry explained, letting the snake slither up his arm. "She's just a baby, and she's lost. I told her I'd take her home." He looked at Draco and grinned. "You can move again, you know, Malfoy," he said teasingly, and Draco felt his entire body relax as he was able to move freely again. He steadfastly refused to look at Hermione, and instead gave Harry a haughty look.

"I know that, Potter, I just wanted to be sure the danger had passed," he said imperiously.

Harry indulged him. "Yes, the danger's passed. And sorry for shouting at you like that, I just didn't want you to step on her. She's quite poisonous."

"Oh," said Draco, looking at the snake with a bit more respect. Hermione turned to Harry.

"You told the snake - "

"Isis," Harry interjected.

"Okay, fine. You told Isis you'd take her home? Where's home?"

"Forbidden Forest, obviously."

Draco sputtered. "You can't take her there, Potter! It's…well, it's forbidden. And it's dangerous," he finished, rather lamely.

Harry gave him a look that clearly said, "What's your point?"

"It's alright, Malfoy, Harry's been in there loads of times. He'll be fine," said Ron cheerfully, obviously distracted by thoughts of dinner. Draco looked at Hermione for support.

"Granger? Surely you don't endorse this? You're a prefect!"

Hermione shrugged and Ron looked insulted.

"I'm a prefect too," he said, and Draco rolled his eyes.

"Yes but you're…well, you're a special sort of prefect," he said, and ignored Ron offended look to continue to plead his case to Hermione.

"Granger, please tell me you're not going to let Potter run off into the Forbidden Forest alone with a poisonous snake?"

Hermione glanced at Harry, then back at Draco. "Malfoy, relax. I've been in there before a few times, it's not so bad. And Harry's very capable. He knows to be careful."

Draco was dumbfounded. Harry turned to Ron and Hermione.

"So I'll see you at dinner, then? I'll just be a moment," and they nodded. Ron and Hermione started walking up to the castle and Harry started walking off to the forest. Draco made a quick decision.

"Wait, Potter, I'm coming with you," he called out, and caught up to Harry, who gave him a puzzled look.

"Honestly, Malfoy, I'll be just fine. I really have been in here many times. I don't need your protection."

Draco was going to deny to the death that he was protecting Harry. "It's not that, it's just…well, I can't very well live with myself if you've been in there and I haven't. I'm not going to let you beat me on this."

Harry looked decidedly amused. "You have been in here before. Don't you remember? Detention, first year. If I recall correctly, you ran out screaming."

"Shut up," Draco muttered, looking cross. "I was eleven years old and I saw some freaky thing drinking the blood of a unicorn. Anyone would have run."

"I didn't," Harry pointed out with a grin, and Draco glared at him.

"Yes, well, that's because you're mental," he said crossly.

"Look, if it makes you feel better, it was Voldemort you ran from, and most people do," Harry said sympathetically.

"Are you serious? I've seen the Dark Lord?" Draco said with some surprise. Then he shuddered. "Ugh. It was horrible. Thank God Daddy dearest straightened out his allegiances before I was asked to join the family business."

They walked through the forest, and Draco was feeling very torn. His Slytherin instincts of self-preservation that he'd had since birth were kicking in big time, and he wanted to either run or stick close to Harry for protection. At the same time, he was watching out for Harry, and he was quite sure that if anything tried to attack Harry he would unhesitatingly risk his life to protect him.

''''''''''''''

After a bit of walking the snake, who had made herself quite comfortable around Harry's neck, lifted her head to hiss in Harry's ear.

"Is he scared?" the little serpant asked.

Harry looked over at Draco's pale face and white knuckles gripped tightly around his wand.

"A bit, I reckon," Harry said back almost affectionately. The snake looked puzzled - well, as puzzled as a snake can look.

"Why is he scared? Nothing in the forest will hurt him. Most of the other creatures here only attack humans." Now Harry was the puzzled one.

"But he is human," Harry replied, sure that the baby snake was mistaken.

"No, he's not," replied the snake. "He looks human, but I know what humans smell like, and there's something different about that one." Harry just shook his head.

"He's a pureblood wizard. He's as human as they come," he tried to explain.

The snake made a movement that would have been a shrug if she'd had shoulders. "Suit yourself."

"What are you two talking about?" Draco asked inquisitively.

Harry grinned. "You."

"Me?" said Draco, furrowing his brow. "What are you saying about me?"

Harry leaned close to Draco's ear. "Isis says you're not human," he whispered, enjoying the look of outrage that crossed Draco's face.

"Not human? That's ridiculous! I know my family tree inside and out, and believe me, I am one hundred percent pureblooded human wizard, thank you very much!"

Harry smiled at Draco's mini-tantrum. "That's what I told her. But she says you don't smell like a human."

"What??? Now see here, you stupid snake -

"This is my stop," the snake said, cutting Draco off, and when Harry looked he saw several other similarly colored snakes just off in the distance.

Harry gently set the snake down in the dirt. "See you around," he said.

"Likewise. And thanks again," she replied and slithered off. Harry turned back to Draco, drinking in the adorable, put-out expression on his face.

"Oh, don't let it bother you, Malfoy. She's just a baby snake. You probably just use more hair products than any other human on the planet and that's what she smelled."

"Hey!" said Draco, cuffing Harry upside the head for that remark, but he looked felt a little better. After all, Harry had to be right. The snake just didn't know what to make of Draco's cologne or other scents, because truthfully, Draco did use a lot of hair products.

Really, Draco Malfoy, not fully human? Ha. That'd be the day.

8 Love and Hate

It was dinner time in the Great Hall, and Harry Potter's outrageously cheerful mood did not go unnoticed by his friends. Indeed, Hermione was very aware of how happy Harry currently was, as she had a pretty good idea as to why that was.

"Alright, Harry, spill," she demanded. "What happened between you and Malfoy today?"

Harry looked at her indignantly. "Nothing happened, Hermione. We just spent a very nice day talking. And not fighting."

"Uh-huh," Hermione replied, unconvinced. She watched as Harry's eyes darted back to the Slytherin table. "So why do you keep staring at him like some kind of love-sick puppy?"

"Love-sick puppy?" Ron looked like he might be sick. "Harry, mate, you don't…fancy Malfoy, do you?"

"What? No. No! Of course not," Harry said huffily, cheeks the slightest bit pink. Hermione raised her eyebrows. She recognized that faint blush from Harry's days of crushing on Cho Chang.

"Well, he is very good-looking," Hermione said cautiously, watching Harry's reaction. "And when he's not being a total prick, he's actually sort of pleasant to be around."

Harry's face lit up. "He really is, isn't he?" His eyes flicked back to the Slytherin table, and this time they locked with Draco's. The blonde smiled at him, and Harry absolutely beamed back.

Hermione watched this all with narrowed eyes. It was as she had feared. Whatever had made Draco fall in love with Harry was affecting Harry now too. She had worried that if the stunning blonde started behaving nicely to Harry that Harry would be unable to fight off an attraction to him.

Attraction…there was something unnatural about the way everyone was attracted to Draco. Hermione just couldn't put her finger on it. She watched Harry watch Draco, and she sighed. They had to tell him. Harry had to know that Draco was under a love spell. It just wasn't fair to watch him slowly falling for the Slytherin, who was just going to turn around and break his heart. She loved Harry like a brother, and she wasn't going to stand by and let him get hurt.

''''''''''''''''''''

The next morning Draco woke up, disoriented for a second, before he remembered he was in his new room. Professor Snape had showed Draco to his new quarters after dinner, and the blonde had been ecstatic. It wasn't anything fancy, just a bedroom with a large bed, an armchair, a desk and an adjoining bathroom, but it was all his. This was going to come in incredibly handy if he could ever get Harry in here alone.

Not to mention that Draco hadn't even realized how stressful his roommates had been until he got away from them. Since the start of term he had noticed that he was constantly being stared at. He didn't mind for the most part, but it got downright creepy when you were trying to go to sleep and four pairs of eyes were staring at you. He had actually gotten to the point where he was sealing his bed hangings every night for his own comfort…and maybe even safety.

He shuddered, remembering just two mornings ago. He had been a bit late getting up, but that hadn't stopped him from using his time in the shower to indulge in some serious Harry-fantasizing. He had just gotten to a really good, really X-rated part when Zabini had called his name.

"Malfoy, you coming to breakfast?" the dark-haired Slytherin had asked. Draco had poked his head out from behind the curtain.

"Yeah, just a second," he had called out, but Zabini had frozen at the sight of him.

"Draco, have I ever told you about my amazing stamina in bed?" he had said in a dreamy voice, eyes unfocused.

Draco had just raised an eyebrow. "Um…no, Blaise, and I don't particularly want to hear about it either. That het stuff gives me the creeps, you know that."

Blaise had continued as if he hadn't heard a word Draco said. "I have amazing sexual prowess, you know…I'd love to show you…I'm sure I could make it good for you…"

"Are you…propositioning me?" Draco had asked, incredulous.

Blaise had started walking towards the shower in a daze, and Draco had panicked.

"Zabini, get away! Blaise, what are you doing? Stay away from me, you pervert!"

And just like that, Blaise had stopped. He had blinked a couple times, and then looked very sheepishly at Draco.

"Sorry," he had muttered, before fleeing the room.

Draco shook his head, bringing his mind back to the present and stretching out in his new bed in his new private room. He grinned to himself. It was Sunday. No one was going to be interrupting him anytime soon. He could take a nice, long shower and think about all the Harry he wanted, totally uninterrupted.

Heh heh heh.

'''''''''''''''''''

Hermione spent the morning and most of the afternoon in the library, frustrated as all get out. She had no leads on Draco's problem, and she had wanted to at least have some tentative ideas before they told Harry everything. She looked down at the list she had made of Draco's symptoms and sighed.

She knew she was missing something. There had to be a simple explanation for all of this. She might have been willing to believe that it wasn't magic, just an infatuation, but she had seen Draco with her own eyes yesterday, after Harry ordered him not to move. He had frozen in place, and he couldn't move again until Harry released him. He had to be under a spell.

She looked at her watch. It couldn't be put off any longer. Harry had to know, so she needed to talk to Draco. She knew Harry was at Quidditch practice right now, and she had a sneaking suspicion Draco would be there too. Harry in workout clothes, all sweaty and barking orders at people was a pretty damn sexy Harry, and Draco wouldn't want to miss that.

Come to think of it, neither did she.

'''''''''''''''''

Sure enough, Hermione found Draco hiding under the bleachers, holding a pair of Omnoculars to his eyes and watching Harry raptly.

"Malfoy," she said by way of greeting.

"Granger," he returned, not lowering the Omnoculars. She rolled her eyes.

"Spying on Harry from under the bleachers? That's quite pervy, really."

"Oh hush. How did you find me?"

"I knew you'd be watching Harry," she said, gazing at the sky and rather wishing she had her own pair of Omnoculars. "Although I didn't predict you'd be in full-out peeping tom mode."

"Oh please, Granger. He's gorgeous. I wasn't about to miss a chance to watch him fly."

Hermione watched her best friend appreciatively for a moment. "He is incredible. I bet the body under those robes is to die for."

Suddenly, a wand was pressed to her throat.

"Say that again and you die," Draco snarled, glaring at her.

Hermione looked at him wide-eyed. Draco seemed to come to his senses, and he lowered his wand sheepishly.

"Uh…sorry," he mumbled. "Bad jealousy problem. It's probably the…um…love potion thing."

"You don't say," Hermione replied dryly, rubbing her throat. She looked at Draco seriously. "That's why I'm here, actually. We need to talk."

"So talk," responded Draco, watching Harry again.

Hermione sighed. "We have to tell Harry the truth."

"WHAT? Are you crazy?" Hermione now had Draco's full attention. "We can't tell Harry I'm in love with him because of some stupid spell."

"We have to!" Hermione said urgently. "He's falling for you!"

Draco got a big, goofy smile on his face. "He is? Really? What did he say about me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "This is not the time, Malfoy. Just trust me. I can tell. He's falling for you, and we have to tell him."

Draco didn't respond right away. The practice had ended and the Gryffindor team was making its way to the locker rooms. His eyes followed Harry's laughing form into the locker room. Hermione nudged him.

"Look, you love him, right?"

Draco nodded. Hermione continued. "So you don't want to see him get hurt again, right?"

"Of course I don't. That's the last thing I would ever want." He paused. "What do you mean, again?"

Hermione sighed. "I'm not sure I'm really the person to tell you this. But, well…Harry has a horrible fate of losing people he loves, and people who love him."

Draco's eyes were filled with worry and compassion. "He has? I know he lost his parents, but who else?"

Hermione didn't say anything for a moment, and then Draco's eyes widened in comprehension.

"Sirius Black," he breathed.

Hermione nodded.

Draco drew in a shaky breath. "Oh my God. Oh, poor Harry." Draco looked uncommonly upset. "I never knew they were close. Oh Merlin, he must be so sad."

"I think he is. He doesn't really like to talk about it, though."

Draco chewed on his bottom lip a moment.

"Look, Granger…let me love him," he finally said earnestly. "Let's not tell him. In fact, let's stop looking for a solution. Just let me love him and I promise I'll never stop."

Hermione smiled sadly at him. It was tempting. "I wish I could, Draco. But we need to know what makes you love him. Because if Harry falls in love with you and then the potion wears off or reverses or something, where does that leave Harry?"

Draco was silent for a few moments. Hermione looked at him compassionately.

"Trust me. He needs to know." Draco looked away. Frustrated, Hermione hardened her gaze. "Malfoy, I love him like a brother. I'm not going to see him hurt. If you don't tell him, then I will."

"If we tell him, then I'll lose him. He won't want me anymore," Draco said in such a sad voice that it made Hermione's heart clench.

"Malfoy," she said gently, but Draco just shook his head.

"No, you're right. I couldn't live with myself if I hurt him." He sighed. "So…when did you have in mind?"

Hermione swallowed down her guilt. This would hurt Draco now, but it would save Harry from being hurt worse in the long run. "How about now?" she suggested.

"Now?" Draco repeated, looking panicked.

"Well, after he's out of the locker room, of course," she clarified. A couple of Gryffindor Quidditch players were drifting out of the lockers room as they spoke. "Look, why don't you go in and find Harry, and then we'll head to the Room of Requirement. Sound good?"

"Me? I can't go in the Gryffindor locker room, I'm a Slytherin," Draco said, sounding scandalized. "You go."

"I'm a girl," Hermione said pointedly. "That's worse than a Slytherin."

"Oh right. I forgot about that."

Hermione muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like you and everyone else in this school. A few more players left the locker room, and then Hermione nudged Draco.

"Go on, now's your chance. Harry's in there alone. Go tell him we want to talk to him."

Looking sad and reluctant, Draco walked over to the door to the locker room. Hermione leaned against the wall just outside. He looked back at her. She waved him on. He took a deep breath and walked in.

'''''''''''''''

The locker room was rather quiet, and at first Draco thought they must have missed him somehow. He called out, "Hey Potter?" and heard his voice echo off the tile.

"Malfoy?" Harry's voice came from around a corner. Oh, so he was here. He had been taking a shower. Draco tried very hard not to think about Harry in the shower and relayed his message.

"Granger and I need to talk to you. It's kind of important."

"Okay, just a sec," Harry replied. He walked out from behind the wall, and Draco felt his mouth go dry.

Harry had obviously just finished showering and had been in the process of getting dressed. The only thing he was wearing was a pair of very baggy cargo pants, and his chest was still glistening slightly with a few drops of water. Every muscle on his torso was exposed for Draco's eyes, and the sight went straight into Draco's blood.

Harry was still rubbing at his damp hair with a towel as looked at Draco, puzzled.

"What did you need to talk about?" he asked.

All Draco could do was stare. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the only sound that came out was some harsh, labored breathing.

Harry looked a bit concerned now. He moved closer to Draco, who gulped.

"Draco? Are you alright?"

And that did it. Hearing his own name from the lips of this heavenly creature in front of him, spoken with such concern, caused something to snap inside Draco. He quickly walked forward, and ignoring every single reason why this might be a bad idea he grabbed Harry around the waist and kissed him.

Harry's eyes flew wide open and he dropped the towel in shock, but Draco didn't stop. He didn't think he could have stopped. Kissing Harry was the most intoxicating, blissful sensation he had ever experienced. Harry's lips felt so good beneath his own, and prickles of pleasure ran all over his hands everywhere they touched Harry's skin. Draco would have said it was heaven, the absolute pinnacle of nirvana -

And then Harry began to kiss him back.

And if Draco thought it felt good before…Harry was tentatively returning his kiss, opening his mouth the slightest bit against Draco's, and when Harry's tongue touched his bottom lip Draco could have sworn he saw stars. Harry lifted his hands, and a keening sound resonated deep in Draco's throat as those hands came to rest in his hair. Draco wasn't very experienced, but he seriously doubted that he would ever feel anything that felt as good as Harry's hands sliding through his hair.

He pressed against Harry, hands sliding on Harry's wet back, and Harry pulled him close as they continued to kiss. Draco's entire body was on fire, and judging from the way Harry appeared to be trying to devour Draco through his kisses, Harry felt the same way. Draco moaned softly. This was so good. This was bliss, this was heaven, this was -

"Harry? Malfoy? Are you in here?"

This was Hermione interrupting them.

Instantly, Harry and Draco flew apart, wiping their mouths guiltily. It was too late though. Hermione had seen them. She glared at Draco. He glared back.

"Granger, what the hell are you doing in here? This is a boy's locker room. And you're a girl."

"Oh, I see, so now you realize I'm a girl, when you want to snog my best friend," Hermione said sarcastically. Her eyes drifted to Harry. "It's funny, Harry, but I could have sworn you said you didn't fancy Malfoy. Do you generally kiss all the boys you don't fancy?"

Harry blushed, but didn't answer. Hermione's eyes raked over Harry's still shirtless form, and she raised her eyebrows appreciatively. Draco practically growled at her.

"Granger, stop looking at him like that! No one is allowed to stare at Harry but me, do you understand? How dare you check him out as if…as if…" his voice trailed off as he realized Harry was looking at him curiously. Draco gave him a weak smile. Hermione gave Draco an irritated look.

"Yes, yes," Hermione said impatiently. "You get wicked jealous if anyone even looks at Harry."

Harry looked confused. "You do?" he said to Draco, who shot an angry look at Hermione. "Why would you get jealous?"

"Oh…well…um…" said Draco, stalling for time.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh honestly. We're not having this conversation here. Harry, Malfoy has something really important to tell you. Get dressed and meet us in the Room of Requirement, alright?"

And then she pulled a protesting Draco out of the locker room and up to the castle.

'''''''''''''''''''

The Room of Requirement had made itself into what looked like a House-neutral common room for their discussion. There were a few chairs and couches, mostly around a big roaring fire. Hermione and Draco sat down on a couch, and while they waited for Harry Hermione asked Draco if there were any new developments in his condition.

Draco shook his head. "Other than having the best kiss of my life - and so rudely interrupted," he gave the unfazed Hermione a dirty look, "- nothing is different."

"Nothing? Are you sure? Anything, no matter how insignificant it seems, could be important."

Draco sighed and wracked his brain. "Well, people seem to say crazy things or want to jump me more than usual lately. Blaise Zabini actually came on to me in the shower. And yesterday that pipsqueak of a snake had the nerve to say I wasn't human."

"A snake said you weren't human?" Hermione said, very intrigued. She looked like this was possibly ringing major bells for her.

Draco was still insulted by the comments. "Yes. She said I didn't smell human. Bloody snake doesn't know what she's talking about," he finished grumpily.

Before Hermione could respond the door opened and Harry walked into the room and over to the pair.

"So…" he said, looking slightly uncomfortable. After all, he'd just been heatedly making out with Draco and caught red-handed by Hermione. He took a good look at Hermione and seemed to know this was important. He cleared his throat. "What did you guys want to talk to me about?"

Draco and Hermione exchanged looked, then Hermione took a deep breath.

"Alright Harry," she began hesitantly, "this is what's going on. Ever since the first day back to Hogwarts on the train, Draco's had…very strong feelings for you."

"But he's always had strong feelings for me. He's hated me for years and - " Harry's mouth formed an "oh" of understanding as he realized what kind of feelings Hermione had been talking about. He looked flabbergasted for a moment, then rather happy. "Really?" he said, obviously trying to hold in his excitement.

Hermione gave him a sad look. "Yes, really. But we think it's a love potion or spell," she finished, and all of the joy promptly left Harry's face. Draco felt his stomach twinge uncomfortably.

"Oh," said Harry desolately, unconsciously moving a little farther away from Draco and taking a seat in one of the armchairs. "Okay…go on…"

Hermione dutifully relayed all the reasons on her list - the jealousy, the sudden infatuation, the obeying of Harry's orders. Harry listened to it all without a word, staring down at the floor the entire time.

After Hermione finished, the silence grew uncomfortable. Finally, Draco broke it.

"So…what do you think about all that, Harry?" Draco said hesitatingly, standing up and walking a few steps towards Harry.

Harry looked up at him, and Draco winced at the raw pain visible on Harry's face.

"This is the worst thing you've ever done to me, Malfoy," he said emotionlessly. "You made me think you liked me - you fucking snogged me just now - and then…" Harry trailed off and buried his head in his hands.

"But I get it," he continued dully, not looking up. "Of course, there's no way you could be in love with me, right? It has to be a spell, because why else would you ever love Harry Potter?"

His voice was bitter. He sounded miserable, hurt and angry, and it wrenched into Draco like a knife.

"It's not like that, Harry, it's not! It's easy to love you, you're very lovable, millions of people love you," he babbled nervously, and then flinched. That was the wrong thing to say.

Harry looked up with narrowed eyes. "Millions of people? Millions of crazed fans who don't even know me, you mean. But you, Malfoy. I thought you knew me. I thought maybe you honestly knew me and that maybe you liked me."

He made a scoffing noise. "I should have known I was wrong. You don't like me; you can't even bear the thought of liking me. You have to justify it with a potion or spell."

Draco was beginning to feel as wretched as Harry looked. "That's not true! I want to believe that I love you, I do. But the orders, Harry! You can order me to do things and I can't help but do it! That's not normal, how do you explain that?"

"There are plenty of ways to explain it," Harry snapped, standing up. "It could be your own conscience! Or I could be doing that to you! I could be using Imperious or some other spell! But you're so quick to believe that the only reason you could love me is because of a spell that you didn't even think about that!"

"Harry, no," Draco said desperately. "I want to believe I really love you, I want to so much, please - "

"Just shut up, Malfoy. I told you, this is the worst thing you've ever done," Harry said in a cold, angry voice. "I'd rather you make more stupid badges and go running off to tell the papers more lies about me then fuck with my emotions like this. So just get out of my life and leave me the hell alone. I hate you."

Draco's mouth fell open, and he felt a hot burning begin in his eyes. He steeled himself against Harry's words, ordering himself not to cry, but the words started stabbing through his brain…I hate you…get out of my life…I hate you…

Hermione saw Draco's stricken face, and turned to Harry. "Harry," she snapped, "Don't be so horrible! Draco has been trying for days to convince me that he's really in love with you, and I'm the one pushing this love potion idea. He knew telling you would be hard and would hurt him, but he was willing to tell you because he didn't want to hurt you! Potion or no potion he loves you!"

Harry turned to her, an angry retort on his lips, but then Draco spoke.

"You hate me, Harry?" he asked, in a very small voice.

Harry turned around, and froze as he saw Draco's miserable face and his eyes shining with unshed tears. Uncomfortable guilt spread its way across his features.

"Draco…" Harry began, sounding ashamed, but the blonde shook his head.

"No, don't say anything, I'll go," Draco said, hands up in a defeated gesture as he backed up rapidly, blinking back tears.

Harry's guilty look deepened. "Please Draco, I'm sorry, I didn't mean -

"Its okay, Harry, don't apologize. It's not your fault. I didn't…I didn't mean to hurt you, I really didn't," the blonde said quickly, anguish washing through him. I hate you, Malfoy…get the hell away from me…

He had to get out of there. If Harry hated him than he couldn't bear to be around Harry for one second longer. He wasn't even sure he could bear to keep living. Turning quickly Draco made for the door. Harry grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Wait, Draco, don't go." Harry's grip was strong and he sounded desperate.

"Let me go, Harry," Draco snapped, angrily wiping at his eyes with his free hand. "I need to go."

Harry refused to let go. "No. Don't go. Stay, please. Where are you going anyway?"

"To offer myself to the Dark Lord," said Draco, completely serious.

Harry's mouth dropped open. "What? Are you mad? He'll kill you!"

"Don't you get it, Harry?" Draco said furiously, on the absolute brink of bursting into tears. "If you hate me then I'd rather be dead!"

Harry's shock at this statement loosened his grip and gave Draco the opportunity to wrench his arm out of Harry's grasp.

Draco practically ran to the door of the Room of Requirement, but before he could open it Harry did the last thing Draco would have ever expected him to do.

"Draco Malfoy, I forbid you to leave this room!"

Draco's hand, which had been on the doorknob, jerked back violently as if he'd been burned. He reached for the knob again, only to find he was unable to touch it. Some kind of force was stopping him. He couldn't open the door, and he couldn't leave the room.

Draco whirled around, his eyes blazing.

"What have you done to me, Potter?!?" he screamed, and as misery and despair overtook him he heard Harry's voice echoing in his head, those same cruel words playing over and over…I hate you…get the hell out of my life…I hate you…I hate you…

And Draco Malfoy, who hadn't cried since he was six years old, fell to his knees and buried his head in his hands as hot, burning tears streamed down his face.

"What have you done to me?" he whispered.

9  Comfort

"What have you done to me?"

Draco's words, though whispered, seemed to echo deafeningly through the room, and Harry watched in horror as Draco fell to his knees and began to cry. At the sight of those tears streaming down Draco's face, guilt and shame and self-loathing tore through Harry painfully.

Without stopping to think he ran forward and dropped to his knees in front of Draco, reaching out for him. "Oh Draco, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it. I'm so sorry, please don't cry, please…"

Harry tried to pull Draco into his arms, but Draco tore away.

"For God's sake, Potter, you've done enough. Just leave me alone," he tried to snarl menacingly, but his voice trembled and broke and only made Harry more determined to fix what he'd done.

"No. I'm not going anywhere," Harry said firmly, and he reached out and wrapped his arms around Draco's shaking torso.

Draco went rigid and tried to push him away, but Harry refused to let him. Holding the blonde tightly, Harry began whispering "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I don't hate you Draco, I don't hate you," over and over.

Finally, Draco gave in and collapsed into Harry's embrace, burying his head in Harry's shoulder to hide his tears. Harry wrapped his arms even tighter around him and tried to comfort him, reassuring him every way he could think of that he hadn't meant what he said.

'''''''

Hermione watched as Draco cried in Harry's arms, and decided it was probably time to leave them alone. She slowly and quietly walked over to the door of the Room of Requirement. She paused before leaving, and looked back at the two figures in the center of the room, on their knees and holding onto each other tightly. Draco's face was hidden in the space between Harry's neck and shoulder, and Harry had leaned his own head against Draco's.

Hermione couldn't help but notice the startling contrast between their hair. Harry's jet black locks resting against Draco's head made Draco's pale, white-gold hair seem even lighter and finer than usual. Hermione stared for a moment. It was so pale, like moonlight. A very unnatural, almost inhuman color. She hadn't seen hair like that in ages. In fact, she hadn't seen hair like that since…

Oh God.

Since Fourth Year.

The Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Fleur Delacour.

And faster than a bolt of lightning Hermione had left the Room of Requirement and was on her way to the library.

''''''''''''''''''

Harry could feel his shirt wet with Draco's tears, and he cursed himself and his stinging words for the hundredth time. No matter how awful he might have felt upon learning that Draco was probably under a spell, he still didn't have the right to speak so cruelly to someone who loved him.

Draco seemed to be calming slightly under Harry's quiet words and caressing, so Harry kept it up. He slowly ran his hands up and down Draco's back, trying to soothe away the last of his sobs. Draco still kept his head buried in Harry's shoulder, and neither said anything beyond Harry's soft murmurings for a long time.

Finally, Draco raised his face up to meet Harry's worried, guilty eyes. "Promise you won't tell anyone about this?" he sniffed, and Harry tightened his arms around the blonde.

"I promise I won't. I wouldn't. Not ever," he said quickly, looking at Draco's tear stained cheeks and watery eyes. Harry didn't think it was possible to feel more ashamed and guilty then he already did, but looking into Draco's wounded face somehow managed to make Harry feel even worse.

"Draco, I am so sorry. I didn't mean what I said at all," he said, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of Draco's face.

"S'okay," said Draco with a shrug. "You were upset, and I had hurt you, and I'm really, really sorry I hurt you and - "

"No!" Harry said vehemently, pulling Draco tightly to him again. "You didn't hurt me." He paused and then decided to be truthful. "Well… I guess you did, but not because I hate you. That was a lie. It only hurt because I like you. Understand?"

Draco nodded miserably. "Yes. But I still feel horrible about it. I shouldn't have kissed you but you just looked so good and I just…I want you so much, Harry, and I can't fight it anymore…"

"It's not your fault," Harry said comfortingly. "You didn't do anything wrong. You knew that telling me might make me never talk to you again, but you told me anyway. You cared more about protecting me from getting hurt then whether or not you got hurt in the process. You shouldn't apologize. I…"

Harry trailed off and looked away. "I'd be so lucky to have someone really love me that much," he finally said softly.

Lowering his head back down on Harry's shoulder, Draco whispered in a choked voice, "I do love you that much."

Neither boy acknowledged their unspoken pain: how they both knew Draco's words couldn't be true and how much they both wished they were.

''''''''''''''''

Harry continued to hold Draco until the blonde finally sighed and stood up.

"We should go," Draco said, wiping his face on his sleeves.

Harry slowly stood up next to him. "If you want," he said, not quite ready to leave Draco alone. "But…can I walk you back to your room?"

Draco sniffed. "Decided you want me to be your girlfriend after all?" he asked with a sardonic smile.

"You'd be the best girlfriend a guy could have," Harry replied lightly. "All that pretty hair."

That startled a real smile out of Draco.

"Wanker," he said affectionately, as they walked over to the door. "Try to control your jealousy."

Try to control your urge to run your fingers through it would have been a more accurate statement, but Harry resolutely refused to give in to temptation.

They reached the door, and Harry opened it and walked out. Draco went to follow, but froze in the doorway.

He pushed for a second, and then his shoulders slumped.

"I can't walk out the door," Draco said, and he looked as though he might burst into fresh tears. "Bloody buggering hell, I can't walk out the fucking door."

He tried to lean forward through the doorway, but it appeared as though an invisible wall were preventing him from leaving the room. His watery grey eyes met Harry's green ones.

"Harry," he whimpered piteously. "What's wrong with me?"

"Oh Draco," Harry said, feeling guilty all over again. How could he have possibly thought Draco wasn't under a love potion when the poor guy couldn't walk through a door against Harry's orders?

"Let me out, Harry," Draco pleaded. He was biting his lower lip in a way that tugged at Harry's heart. "Please?"

"Of course," Harry said hastily. He wasn't sure exactly what to do, so he took a wild guess. "Alright…um, Draco, I take it all back. I give you permission to leave the Room of Requirement."

And with no further problems, Draco walked through the doorway.

''''''''''''''

They made no sounds other than their foot falls as Draco led Harry to his new, private room behind the portrait of a fierce-looking dragon with translucent, shimmering scales.

Spotting the portrait, Harry opened his mouth.

"Yes, it's an Antipodean Opaleye, and no, don't make any dragon/Draco jokes, got it?" Draco snapped.

Harry bit back about twenty jokes he was thinking of and just nodded. Draco spoke the password Dragon Fire, and they went in.

Harry looked around the room very appreciatively. It wasn't fancy but it was elegant, with an enormous bed (even bigger than the traditional four-posters that everyone else had), a large desk under the window, a comfortable looking armchair near the bed and a couple of doors leading to what Harry rightly assumed were a closet and the bathroom. The whole thing was decorated in silver and green.

"This is really nice," he said admiringly.

"It is, isn't it?" Draco agreed, looking a bit cheered up. "I've only been in here for a day, but so far it's excellent."

Harry wanted to stay and see the bathroom and the view, but his stomach gave an uncomfortable rumble. With a jolt, he realized they had missed dinner. He turned to Draco, who had moved to look out the window.

"Are you hungry?"

"A bit," Draco admitted, as he stared out the window. Framed by the window against the darkening night sky, Draco looked absolutely ethereal, like an otherworldly being somehow trapped on earth. Harry wanted to stand behind him and wrap his arms around that narrow waist, lower his head and rub his cheek against that soft hair, plant kisses on that exposed neck and trail them up until he reached Draco's ear and -

Harry tore himself away from such thoughts and shook his head to clear it. "Listen, I'm going to go to the kitchens and try to get us some food. Why don't you lie down until I get back?"

"I don't think I'm very tired," Draco replied, although the exhaustion written clearly on his face said otherwise.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You look awfully tired, Malfoy. It'd make me feel better if you'd lie down."

Draco turned to give Harry a dirty look. "I said I wasn't tired, Potter. I'm not a sodding child. I see no reason to lie down, and I don't plan to."

"I could order you to," Harry said with a trace of amusement.

Draco gave him such a scathing glare that Harry was properly cowed.

"Or…not. Sorry," he winced, and Draco's glare faded away.

"It's okay." He sighed and moved across the room to sit down on the bed. "Actually, it is kind of funny. In a bleak oh my God, what have I ever done to deserve this kind of way."

Harry was tempted to make a comment about just how much Draco had done to deserve this, but before he could Draco gave him a wry kind of smile.

"I know exactly what you're thinking, and don't you dare say it. I don't care how big a brat I've been to you. I didn't deserve this."

He paused and looked at Harry seriously. "Well, at least it's you, you know?"

Harry sat down next to Draco on the bed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if I had to be in love with someone, and someone had to have this horrible power over me, at least it's you. I know I can trust you."

Harry gaped at him in dismay. "How can you say that? I just told you I hated you in a moment of petty anger. You can't trust me at all. I hurt you without even trying to, and I said such awful things and I made you cry and -

Draco stopped him by placing a finger against Harry's lips. "Hush, Potter. I know you didn't mean to, and I forgive you. And I trust you, I really, really do."

Harry just looked at him, and when their eyes met there was a spark so intense it should have been visible. Harry could have sworn that his heart was beating loud enough for Draco to hear it. The skin of Draco's finger, pressed lightly against his lips, was so unbelievably soft, and almost against his will his mouth opened slightly under Draco's touch, ready to slide Draco's finger gently into his mouth and -

Harry blinked and then stood up quickly. "So…I'll just be getting that food then, right?" he said, stumbling over the words. "Food….yes, we need food so um…well…I'll just be right back…" Harry blurted out, and awkwardly rushed out the door, Draco staring after him.

'''''''''''''''

Pausing just outside the door to Draco's room, Harry leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. His heart was pounding in his chest and his breathing was erratic. He couldn't keep doing this. He had to get some semblance of control around Draco. He knew, he just knew, that if he didn't get a grip he would find himself kissing those willing lips and all over that willing body.

Because Draco would be willing, and that's what made it wrong. Harry wouldn't take advantage of Draco's willingness, because it wasn't real. Not as long as the blonde was under a love spell. No matter how much Harry wanted to kiss him again, he wouldn't.

Now if Draco initiated anything, or if Draco wanted to snog and such to ease his feelings under the love potion, then Harry would happily oblige. But only if Draco started it; Harry would not take advantage of him, and Harry would not hurt him again.

Getting himself under control, Harry went down to the kitchens and was immediately weighed down by piles of food from the House Elves. He made sure to get a large number of desserts for Draco as well. Pausing in front of the portrait, he took a deep breath, steadied himself, and spoke the password to the dragon.

The painting swung open, and Harry stepped into Draco's room. The blonde was nowhere in sight, but from the light streaming under the bathroom door Harry surmised he was probably changing. Harry carefully set the food down on the night-table next to the bed and had just dropped into the arm chair when the bathroom door opened.

Draco emerged, dressed in silk drawstring pajama pants and a clingy t-shirt, and Harry's eyes became huge. He had never so much as seen Draco out of uniform before, and now seeing him like this…he looked positively edible, his pants riding low on his hips, revealing a sliver of pale skin and perfectly flat stomach beneath the t-shirt that clung to the lithe muscles on Draco's arms and torso.

The only thing that prevented Harry from pouncing on Draco right then and there was the little voice in his head that kept screaming love potion, love potion, LOVE POTION DAMN IT over and over in his head.

Draco appeared not to have noticed Harry's struggles not to jump him because he was too distracted by the sight of the food on the table.

"You brought éclairs!" he said happily, grabbing the plate of desserts off the table and jumping onto the bed with it.

"Gah," replied Harry.

Draco was gleefully digging in. "Mmmm," he sighed blissfully, picking up an éclair and biting into the pastry. "I love French desserts."

As he devoured it, the chocolate icing from the éclair melted slightly and the filling seeped out. After popping the last bite in his mouth Draco slowly proceeded to lick and suck every last trace of chocolate and cream off his fingers.

Harry had to close his eyes.

''''''''''''''''''

After dinner, which consisted of éclairs, éclairs, and more éclairs for Draco and chicken and potatoes and sexual frustration for Harry, Draco stretched out on his side on the bed. He propped his head up to look at Harry, looking a bit shy and upset again.

"What's wrong?" Harry immediately asked with concern.

Draco flushed slightly and looked down at his comforter. "It's just…I'm really sorry for kissing you this afternoon, Harry. I never would have, if I had known how much it would hurt you."

"What?" Harry asked, incredulous that Draco could feel the slightest bit bad about anything after everything Harry had said to him that evening.

He quickly moved from the armchair onto the bed next to Draco. "You have nothing to apologize for, okay?" he said earnestly. Draco looking so vulnerable made Harry struggle not to wrap his arms around him, but he resisted.

"You did nothing wrong," Harry promised. "In fact," here Harry blushed slightly, "it was the best kiss of my life, truthfully."

"Really?" Draco asked, looking up happily. Then his eyes narrowed. "And how many kisses are you comparing it to, Potter?"

Harry was a little taken aback by the blatant jealousy obvious in Draco's voice. "Um…just one, really. With Cho."

"Oh yeah. Cho Chang. That little tramp," Draco spat vindictively, and Harry objected.

"Malfoy, that's not very nice. She's hardly a tramp, you know."

"She is for kissing you when you should have been mine," Draco said harshly, and when Harry's eyebrows flew up Draco had the grace to look sheepish. "Um, sorry. It's the love potion, or whatever it is. Makes me kind of…jealous."

"And possessive," Harry added with a smile. "But it's okay. It's not your fault."

Draco looked down at the comforter again, tracing a pattern with one finger. He looked uncharacteristically young and defenseless. "Hey, Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you really sure you don't hate me?"

Deeply touched by Draco's obvious insecurity, Harry was powerless to stop from inching closer. "Completely sure," he reassured Draco, folding his hands together in his lap to keep from them from reaching out and stroking Draco's hair. "Why? Are you worried again?"

"It's just…" Draco bit his lip, looking nervous. "When you left earlier to get food earlier I was afraid you'd never come back. That you'd decide you hated me after all. I kept hearing your voice in my head, and it was so horrible…"

"Oh Draco," Harry said, and this time he couldn't stop his hand from reaching out and touching Draco's hair. He began to slide his fingers through the silken strands, and Draco closed his eyes in bliss.

"I know it's stupid, and irrational, and just a side effect of the magic," Draco admitted, as he lay there with his eyes closed. "But…and this is horribly embarrassing…if you leave me I think I won't be able to sleep all night because I'll be crazy with worry."

Harry made a quick and very easy decision. "So I'll stay with you until you fall asleep," he replied decisively.

Draco opened his eyes. "You'd do that for me?" he asked in surprise.

"Of course." And with that Harry kicked off his shoes, rolled onto his back and opened his arms.

"Come here," he said softly, his desire to cuddle away Draco's insecurities finally overpowering his worries about the love potion. Draco gratefully moved into his arms. Harry pulled the covers out from underneath them and pulled the blankets up to their shoulders. Draco settled his head against Harry's shoulder, one arm draped possessively across the brunette's chest. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco tightly, burying his nose in Draco's soft blonde hair.

"Night, Draco," he said gently, feeling ridiculously happy and complete.

"Night," Draco mumbled sleepily, and very shortly the room was filled with the sounds of his even breathing.

''''''''''''''

A little while later, lying on Draco's bed, with Draco sleeping so peacefully on top of him, Harry marveled at the whole situation. He looked down at the blonde head pillowed on his chest, and felt an incredible wave of tenderness wash through him. He wanted to cover that soft, sleepy head with kisses.

Harry had never had anything like this before. He had never spent the night with someone, cuddled together in bed. Before Hogwarts he had never even had anyone willing to hug him - just eleven long and lonely years with the Dursleys.

And now he was here, and Harry knew Draco would be more than happy to let Harry hug and kiss him and to let him stay the night…but no. Draco had said he trusted Harry, and Harry would keep that trust. He would not take advantage of him.

And so when Harry could pretend no longer that there was a chance Draco was still awake, he quietly slipped out of bed. He cast a quick spell on the leftover food to banish it to the kitchens, left a note for Draco so he wouldn't be worried when he woke up alone, and softly exited the room and went back to Gryffindor tower.

'''''''''''''''''''

The next morning, when Draco woke up alone, a panicky feeling immediately rose in his chest. Harry had left him, Harry would never come back, Harry hated him - and then he noticed the piece of paper on his nightstand and picked it up.

Draco -

I hope you slept well. Don't worry, I still don't hate you.

See you at breakfast,

Harry

And Draco smiled to himself, slipped the note into the drawer of the nightstand and got up to get ready for the day.

'''''''''''''''''

At breakfast, from which Hermione strangely seemed to be absent, Harry watched the Slytherin table like a hawk. When Draco finally appeared, Harry sent him huge smile. Draco smiled back, and Harry's expression became a little dreamy. Ron raised his eyebrows.

"Let me guess…my favorite ferret just walked in," he said dryly. Harry turned to glare at him.

"Don't call him a ferret, Ron," he said severely, and Ron just rolled his eyes.

"Oh that's right. I forgot. You've got a little crush on him."

"Ron, shut up!" Harry hissed under his breath. Draco had agreed they could fill Ron in on the love potion hypothesis but nothing else. Ron had immediately seen that while Draco's feelings may have been the result of a love potion Harry's most definitely were not, which meant that Ron had probably gained about three months worth of teasing material.

Luckily for Harry, at that moment owl post arrived and a large, official-looking owl swooped down over his plate and dropped off a letter.

Harry picked it up. The seal indicated it was from Gringotts Bank. Before he could open it another owl flew overheard and dropped yet another letter in front of Harry. This one had the official seal of the Ministry of Magic. Looking a bit apprehensive, he opened the letter.

Ron watched as Harry slowly read the letter from the Ministry, his face paling slightly. With shaking hands Harry then opened the second letter, staring at it blankly. Ron finally decided to ask.

"So…what's up?" he said cautiously, because Harry didn't look so good all of a sudden. Harry wordlessly handed him the Ministry letter.

Mr. Potter -

The Ministry of Magic has come into concrete evidence concerning the existence of Peter Pettigrew and his involvement in the death of your parents and the subsequent incarceration of Sirius Black. Due to this information, Mr. Black's name has been cleared and his assets have been released. It would appear that you are the sole benefactor of Mr. Black's will, and therefore will be inheriting all of Mr. Black's possession, in addition to the monetary compensation the Ministry will be paying for his wrongful incarceration.

Please see the correspondence from Gringotts Bank for a full list of your inheritance.

Sincerely,

Alfred Glocken

Head of the Department of Wizarding Wills

Ron looked at Harry with big eyes. Harry handed him the letter from Gringotts, and Ron scanned it. "Blimey, Harry. You're getting 12 Grimmald Place, three vacation homes, a huge pile of money…this is incredible."

"Yeah," echoed Harry, his voice suddenly dry and scratchy and his eyes suddenly overly-bright. "Incredible. Listen, I've got to go, I need to get some homework before class, alright?"

"Alright, then. See you in Charms."

And Harry took the letters back and fled from the Great Hall, blinking back tears.

''''''''''''''''''

Draco had watched the whole interaction, and with the eye of someone in love he clearly saw Harry's misery written on his face. Naturally, as soon as Harry left the hall Draco tore after him.

Draco found him in an empty classroom on the fifth floor, sitting on the teacher's desk with his knees drawn up under his chin and his head buried in his arms.

"Harry?" he asked quietly, and Harry looked up. To Draco's surprise, his brilliant green eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.

"'Lo, Draco," he said back, equally quietly, lowering his head back to his arms. Draco cautiously walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. He hopped up on the desk next to Harry's feet.

"What's wrong?" the blonde asked with concern, and without looking up Harry handed him the letters. Draco quickly scanned them, and felt his own heart ache for Harry. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry."

Harry looked up again. "He's finally free. But he's dead, and it's all my fault. I don't want his stuff, I want him back." He blinked, and one of the tears he had been fighting so hard escaped and fell down his cheek.

Draco's heart broke. Harry looked so lost. It suddenly hit home to Draco that Harry was an orphan. An orphan. He had no parents and no real family. The only person he'd ever had was now dead, and Harry blamed himself. How could he never have noticed how alone Harry was?

He reached out with his arms. "Come here," he whispered soothingly, pulling Harry to him. It was a repeat of the night before, but this time Draco was the one holding Harry in his arms.

"It's okay, it's okay," Draco said softly to Harry, who was struggling not to cry. "I know, you miss him."

Draco heard a choked noise and felt a hot wetness begin to burn against his neck. He ran his arms up and down Harry's back in response.

"Shh, love, its okay to miss him. It's okay to want him back. I know you think you're alone again now, but you're not Harry, you're not. You have me, and I promise you'll always have me."

The words seemed to spill from the depths of Draco's soul, but they only made Harry cry harder.

"No I won't," he whispered into Draco's neck. "You'll leave me too when this potion wears off, and then I'll be more alone than ever."

"Harry, no, don't say that," Draco whispered, anguished. He pulled Harry upright by his shoulders and looked seriously into his face. "I love you, I do, and I promise, and I won't leave you."

And as he spoke he began to cover Harry with kisses, starting at his forehead and working down his face, over his cheeks where tears were forming hot, salty paths. "I promise," he breathed, when he reached Harry's lips, and then in a heartbeat breached the distance to press his lips to Harry's.

Harry responded with the fervor of a drowning man. And he was drowning, drowning in guilt and sorrow and he clung to Draco desperately. And suddenly Harry was clutching Draco to him, devouring his mouth, drinking him in. His hands flew to Draco's robes, pulling them open, sliding under his clothes to trace his fingers over Draco's cool, smooth skin.

And Draco let him. He let Harry ravage his mouth, and yank at his clothes. He would have let Harry do anything he wanted if it made him feel better. He responded with gentle loving touches and held back his own passion, because in his own mind he knew that Harry was right, that his feelings couldn't be real, and that he might leave Harry alone again when this was all over.

And the thought of Harry alone again broke his heart, so he refused to take advantage of Harry when he was vulnerable. He would have been willing to let Harry take him right there on the desk, if that was what Harry wanted. But he would not lead Harry on only to abandon him in the end.

Harry's hands came up to rest in Draco's hair, and he tipped the blonde head back so he could kiss his neck. As Harry's lips brushed Draco's sensitive skin Draco shivered, and against his will made a small noise of pleasure.

Immediately, Harry froze and then pulled back, looking highly ashamed.

"Oh gods, Draco, I am so sorry."

Draco furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about, Potter?"

"I didn't mean to take advantage of you like this. I didn't mean to use you just because I'm upset, and you're willing because of the love potion, and I'm just so sorry and -

"Harry, stop," Draco said, unable to see Harry in such pain. "It's okay, I don't mind, it's really okay and -

"No," said Harry, shaking his head fervently and backing up a few inches on the desk. "I won't do it. I hurt you last night, and I won't ever hurt you again, not in any way, and that includes kissing you when you can't decide for yourself whether you want it or not. I won't."

Draco opened his mouth to say trust me Harry, I really, really don't mind, but at the resolute expression on Harry's face, he closed it. Instead he pulled Harry to him again, and they sat in silence on the desk.

''''''''''''''''

It could have been five minutes later, or it could have been an hour later. Draco was never really sure. However, Harry finally pulled back from Draco, and Draco concernedly looked down into Harry's eyes, made overly bright by his tears.

"We should go. We both have class," Harry said, wiping the last traces of tears off his face.

Draco just nodded, reluctant to let Harry go anywhere. "You going to be okay?" he asked gently, and Harry gave him a smile with no humor.

"Of course," he said, and his tone of voice left both of them quite sure that he was going to be anything but okay.

"We don't have to go," Draco said softly, pushing a lock of Harry's hair away from his eyes.

"Yeah, we do," Harry said back, but he made no movement to leave. Another moment of silence passed between the two, and Draco opened his mouth.

"Look, Harry," he started to say, wanting desperately to somehow reassure Harry that everything would be okay, but at that moment the door flew open and Hermione burst into the room.

"There you guys are," she said with great relief. "I've been looking all over the castle for you."

The two boys looked at her. Her hair was thrown up into a messy knot on her head, her robes were in complete disarray, and she looked like she hadn't slept all night. She was carrying a huge stack of books and her eyes were sparkling with excitement.

"What's up, Hermione?" Harry asked, ducking his head slightly to hide the fact that he'd been crying. He didn't need to worry; Hermione was too elated to notice.

"I've found it. I've got it. I know the answer," she babbled, throwing her stack of books on the closest desk. Harry and Draco exchanged dubious glances.

"What on earth are you on about, Granger?" Draco asked, confused, and Hermione turned to him.

"I know why you're in love with Harry."

10 Family Trees

At Hermione's words, both Harry and Draco just gaped at her. Draco recovered first.

"You figured it out? Really?" he asked, disbelieving.

"Yes." Hermione began sorting through her stack of books. Draco and Harry exchanged looks.

"So…are you planning on telling us?" Harry finally asked, and Hermione grinned up at him.

"I don't know. How badly do you guys want to know?"

"Granger…" At Draco's tone of voice Hermione stopped teasing.

"Okay, well…there's no easy way to put this so I'm just going to come right out and say it, alright? Draco - you're part veela."

Draco's eyes widened in shock. "What? No, there must be some mistake. That's not possible."

"Well, I'm sorry, but there it is. You're part veela with active veela genes, and that explains everything that's been going on. The jealousy, the strange attraction everyone has to you, your good looks, the snake thinking you weren't human -

"But Granger," Draco interrupted, "I'm NOT veela. I'm not. I know my family tree inside and out, and there are no veelas in my family. It wouldn't be allowed. We're as pure-blooded as they come."

"That's where you're wrong, Malfoy. But I thought you'd say that, so I brought these books with me to prove it to you." And here Hermione passed Draco the books she'd grabbed out of her enormous stack.

Draco looked at the covers. "Two copies of Wizarding Genealogy - one for the Black Family and one for the Malfoy Family. Look, I've seen these books before. We have copies in our libraries." He held the books back out to Hermione. "There are no veela in here."

Hermione refused to take them back. "Oh yes there are. My guess is that you've seen the edited, pure-blood versions of your genealogy, with all the 'unsuitable' people removed."

"What are you talking about?" Draco said testily.

It was Harry who answered. "I've seen the Black family tree. It's on the wall of Sirius' old house. Sirius had been burnt off, as had your mother's sister Andromeda, and everyone else who had supposedly disgraced the Black name."

Hermione nodded. "That's right. And carrying on with a magical creature would definitely count as 'disgrace' in a pure-blooded wizard family; hence the removal of all traces of veela blood from your family tree. But the copies that you hold in your hand, Malfoy, are the unedited versions of your family tree. Go on. Take a look."

Draco opened the Black genealogy book with trepidation and scanned the pages, his face growing noticeably paler. There, written in a brilliant crimson ink, were names he had never seen or heard. Sirius Black was indeed related to him, as were a dozen other witches and wizards who did not appear in the versions he had seen in his own home.

"Oh Merlin," Draco whispered.

Hermione gave him a commiserating look. "Lots of relatives you didn't know you had, eh? And actually, Malfoy, surprise, surprise, you're even distantly related to the Weasleys."

"WHAT?"

"Oh yes. Look there. It won't be on your family tree at home of course, but your great-uncle Lucas married a Prewitt, and Molly Weasley's maiden name is Prewitt. So you and Ron are actually cousins of some sort."

Draco looked flabbergasted. He traced over the names in the genealogy book with his fingers, and then glanced up at Hermione.

"So where are the veela?" he asked, and Hermione went over to him and pointed to a name in the book:

"This woman, Giselle Alliot, is actually one-eighth veela. If you look at her roots on the family tree, you can see that her great-grandmother was a veela who married a wizard. This fact, of course, isn't in your family tree, because Giselle Alliot hid it very well when she married into the Black family. Actually, she was your -

"Great grandmother," Draco finished weakly, recognizing the name. "My great-grandmother was part veela."

"That doesn't make sense, though," Harry said thoughtfully. "That only makes a very, very tiny little fraction of Draco veela. Fleur Delacour was a full quarter veela, and she wasn't dealing with all the stuff Draco is."

"We don't know that," Hermione pointed out. "She certainly had boys falling at her feet. Remember Ron?"

Harry shrugged and conceded. "But still, it's so little veela blood. How can that explain why Draco's feeling the effects so hard?"

"And why my mother never had any of the signs," Draco interjected.

"I'm getting to that," Hermione said, in an irritated "don't interrupt the professor" type of voice. "The thing is, veela genes are recessive. The looks may come through but on the whole, veela characteristics will be dominated by wizard ones. If no one tells them, a part veela can have no idea that's what they are. Look at your mother, Malfoy. She's blonde in a family with lots of black hair, and that's most likely the veela genes showing through. Just the physical attributes, though, not the actual veela powers."

Hermione grabbed the Malfoy genealogy book off the desk, flipped to a page and then held it out to Draco. "But in your case, Malfoy, the recessive genes came through loud and clear, and I'll show you why. You see this?"

Draco was staring intently at the page. "These are my father grandparents. I knew of them, and they're definitely not - OH!" And here he noticed something that definitely didn't appear in his version of their family tree. "My great grandfather had an affair with a veela? My father's dad is actually half veela? My dad's a quarter veela??"

"Got it in one, Malfoy. And here's the kicker: that means you got veela genes from both sides of your family. And even though they're normally recessive, in you the veela genes are dominant. It's like a family where everyone has brown eyes, and then someone with blue eyes pops up out of no where. Recessive genes showing through. And that's why you're having all these changes and problems when your parents didn't. Their veela genes are dormant under their wizard genes. That's not the case with you."

Draco looked like he'd been hit by a freight train. Hermione tried to explain some more.

"Look, your parents probably really do have veela characteristics, just very, very weak ones. Especially your dad. People probably get a little moony-eyed around him, and that's helped him become so powerful. He just didn't realize it."

Draco shook his head. "Fleur Delacour was also a quarter veela, and like you said, guys were falling at her feet. My dad would have noticed that."

"The powers of attraction are nearly always higher in veela females, Malfoy. That's why you practically only hear about the women."

"Then why - "

"You're just special, I guess," Hermione answered, before Draco could even finish the question. "Quite possibly it's because of your sexual preference. The attraction that veela females give off is used to attract males and find a partner. You wanted to attract men too. That could be it."

Harry furrowed his brow. "Okay, so Draco here is part veela. I get that. That perfectly explains why everyone has been saying ridiculous things around him and throwing themselves at him. But how does that explain everything else? Why does that explain how he's in love with me?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Well, because veela mate for life. They love the same person until they die. Because it's so important that they fall in love with someone they can spend the rest of their lives with, veela are guided by their instincts."

"And you're saying…that for Draco…I'm that person?" Harry said, gaping.

Hermione nodded curtly.

"So I'm a veela…" Draco began slowly, "and that I have some kind of 'veela sense' that chose Harry and made me fall in love with him…because he'll make a really good partner for me for the rest of our lives?"

Hermione looked a little awkward. "Um…well…in a nutshell, yes."

Draco, amazingly, looked completely unperturbed. "Alright then," was all he said.

Harry stared at him. "That…doesn't bother you, Draco? That you'll only love me for the rest of your life?" Harry asked, amazed.

Draco shrugged. "Not a bit. Now I can stop worrying about falling out of love with you, because I won't. I get to keep you forever." His face suddenly became very worried. "Wait, why? Does it bother you?"

"No, no, it doesn't bother me," Harry said hastily at the look one Draco's face. "It's just…you know, a bit of a shock." Draco didn't look very reassured. Harry quickly turned to Hermione. "So, you're sure about this? I mean, there are still tons more unanswered questions."

"Like…?" Hermione asked.

"What about what the snake said?"

"That one's easy," Hermione replied. "With his heritage and the way the veela genes are dominant in him, Draco really isn't human. He's a veela. So of course he doesn't smell human."

Harry tried again. "The irrational jealousy?"

"Again, it's a completely natural veela thing. Veela, especially males, are extremely territorial and possessive, with very jealous natures. This is manifested the strongest when it comes to their mates. Draco's just protective of you so no one steals you from him."

"Alright, well, why can I order him around?"

Hermione smiled. "That is one of the most fascinating things about wizard-veela relationships, actually. Because veela tend to be…well…actually very volatile, unsafe creatures - no offense, Malfoy - it seems that there is a sort of control mechanism that appears when they mate with wizards instead of other veela. It's almost a safety measure to protect other wizards from the veela."

"I don't understand."

"I told you that veela mate for life, and that they will love the same person forever. Naturally they are very careful to protect that person, and likewise are very hostile to threats made against them. A veela in a rage is very powerful, and can easily cause serious damage or even death if provoked to defend their mate. When veela mate with wizards, the wizards are able to exercise a degree of control over the veela, which makes it possible for them to exist in more or less a safe manner in the wizarding world."

Now Harry looked thunderstruck. "So because Draco's potentially hazardous to other wizards, I can order him to do anything that strikes my fancy?"

"Nope."

"What?" Harry looked at Hermione in confusion. "But you just said -

"You have a degree of control over Draco's actions, yes," Hermione explained, "but you can't order Draco to do anything that strikes your fancy, Harry."

"What? Sure I can. It's just like the Imperious curse. I mean, look, he can't say mudblood anymore, and he couldn't leave the room yesterday, and -

"It's nothing like the Imperious curse. You only have some control over his body, Harry, not his mind. You can't order Draco to feel a certain way, or to hate someone, or to love someone else. You can control his vocal chords so he can't say the word mudblood, but you can't control his mind so he can't think the word mudblood. And your power over his body is limited. It works when you are highly emotionally charged, like in a life and death situation or when someone could get hurt, but if you just order Draco to do something without that kind of power behind it, it won't work."

Harry rubbed his temples. "This is so confusing," he admitted.

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look. "I know. And everything's just going to get crazier because in terms of your veela powers, Malfoy, you're just a baby. You've just hit puberty, so everything is just kicking in. That is why no one has gone all loopy with love around you before."

"So…this attraction thing is going to get stronger?" Draco queried, sounding hopeful and resigned at the same time. Hermione nodded her assent.

"Yes. Probably much stronger. But don't worry, you should be able to learn to control it. Right now I think you've been "turning on the charm," so to speak, around Harry or when you're thinking of Harry, completely unintentionally. You should be able to learn to harness the magic and direct it, or use it when you want to."

She smiled gently. "Actually, a lot really interesting stuff will probably be happening to you. Veela are terribly magical, you know. Combined with your wizard blood, things could get very exciting."

Draco had an odd look on his face. "I'm a veela," he said slowly, as if tasting the words on his tongue. "A veela." He looked down at the stack of books on the desk. "Granger, can I keep these for awhile?" he asked, in a quiet voice.

Hermione nodded. "That's why I brought them. I thought you might want to read them"

"I do…it's…it's just a lot to take in, you know." Draco looked a little shaky as he said this, and Harry looked at him with concern.

"Are you alright, Draco?" he asked, and Draco just nodded.

"Yeah. I just…I need to do some reading. I won't be in class today. See you guys later." And with that he grabbed the stack of books and left the room.

Hermione and Harry looked at each other.

"Why'd he just leave like that?" Harry asked, looking slightly hurt by Draco's abrupt departure.

Hermione shrugged. "I think it threw him for a loop. I mean here, all his life, he's believed that his blood is the purest of the pure when it comes to wizards. Now he just had that ripped out from under him, and he has to come to terms with the fact that he's not what he thought he was. It'll be tricky."

Harry nodded in comprehension. "I understand. I do wish he'd left a book or two for me to read, though. I'd kind of like to know what he's going through, especially since he's supposedly going to…love me for life, or whatever," Harry finished, blushing slightly.

Hermione winked at him. "I thought you might say that," she said offhandedly, reaching into her bag. "That's why I saved this book for you."

She held out a copy of You Lucky Dog: a Guide for Wizards Chosen by Veela. Harry accepted it eagerly.

"Thanks Hermione, I can't wait to read this."

"You're welcome."

They stood up and walked out of the classroom together to class.

'''''''''''''''

Lunchtime rolled around, and Harry, Ron and Hermione sat together at the Gryffindor table under a rain-drop splattered grey sky that seemed to be growing slighter darker with every passing minute.

"Do you guys think it's going to storm?" Ron asked out.

"Definitely. It'll be pouring by nightfall," answered Hermione.

"No thanks, I've got food," said Harry, and Ron and Hermione exchanged exasperated looks as they noticed Harry's eyes glued to the door of the Great Hall. Ron reached out and thwapped Harry on the back of the head.

"OW! Ron! What'd you do that for?" Harry asked crossly, rubbing the back of his head.

"Stop watching the door and eat lunch, Harry," Hermione scolded. Harry sent a glare at his best friends, but picked up his fork and began to eat. He was very disappointed that Draco was nowhere to be seen.

As they ate (and as Harry continued to watch the door), he and Hermione made the most of their time, filling in Ron on all the details of Draco's newly discovered veela status. Harry paged through book, fascinated by everything he was reading.

"You should read the entire thing cover to cover, Harry," Hermione said, when she noticed that Harry was skimming the book. "There are lots of important details in that book that you should know."

"Like what?" Ron asked, almost as curious as Harry was.

"Well," began Hermione, "probably the most important thing you should know is that veela are…well, they're…' complicated," she finished tactfully.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Well…they're not exactly evil, like vampires and werewolves - "

"Professor Lupin's not evil," Ron said, looking offended on Remus's behalf.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, of course he's not. When he's human he's wonderful. But for those few hours when he's in his wolf state, yes, he is evil."

Harry and Ron gave Hermione looks, but they didn't argue.

"Anyway, as I was saying, veela are not exactly evil, but they're not exactly good, either."

"What kinds of creatures qualify as good?" Harry asked.

"Oh, you know, things like unicorns and kneazles and centaurs are good. Veela are more complicated than that. They fall somewhere in the middle. They're…well, to be honest, they're kind of like dragons. Not necessarily evil, but certainly dangerous."

Harry looked offended. "Draco's not dangerous," he said defensively.

"I didn't say Draco was dangerous," Hermione replied carefully. "I said veela are dangerous, and they are. Remember the World Cup? When they transformed into those giant birds? It takes a lot of magical power to transform like that, Harry. I'm just saying that you need to be careful."

Ron looked thoughtful. "She's right, mate. And it's not like Malfoy's exactly safe, is it? I mean, he threw the Crutiatus curse at Ernie and Justin without a second thought. He used two wands simultaneously and a curse he'd never used before and got it right on his first try."

"He was just protecting me. You guys don't know what he's really like," Harry said, shaking his head. "Draco's not some kind of dangerous wild animal. He's sweet and beautiful and wonderful, and I'm lucky that he wants me." Harry stood up to leave the table.

Hermione and Ron exchanged looks, but said nothing. They followed Harry's lead, and stood up, and the three of them went off to their afternoon classes under the darkening sky of the Great Hall.

''''''''''''''''''

Dinner came and still no sign of Draco.

The storm that had threatened all day had finally broken, and the rain lashed down around the castle, drenching everything. The ceiling of the Great Hall showed the deep, dark clouds and the flashes of lightening that occasionally lit up the sky.

It perfectly reflected the way Harry's mood was going. Harry was beginning to get really concerned. He hadn't seen Draco all day, and he was worried. Harry barely ate anything as he kept his eyes glued to the doors, but the familiar shock of blonde hair never appeared.

Harry stayed at dinner until the last possible minute, but Draco never showed. Wanting to see the blonde with his own eyes, to make sure everything was okay, Harry walked over to Draco's room behind the dragon portrait and knocked.

There was no answer.

Harry knocked again, and still no answer. He softly called out, "Draco?" hoping the blonde would respond. He was met with only silence. Now feeling even more anxious, Harry said the password and snuck into Draco's room.

"Draco? Are you here?"

The room was empty, and Harry felt an icy uneasiness make its way into his chest. He noticed the stacks of books that Draco had borrowed piled on Draco's desk and on the arm chair next to the bed, several of them open to various pages and chapters.

Harry snuck over to the desk to look at some of the books. There was The Great Big Book of Veela Facts, and also a copy of MY GOD I'M PART VEELA?? WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME??, a book called Advice on Living Life as a Veela and another book titled Alluring Siren or Dangerous Beast: The Great Veela Debate. Harry bristled a bit on Draco's behalf at the title of the last book.

He was just leaving when he noticed a book laying open on Draco's bed. He walked over and picked it up, checking the title (Welcome to Gorgeous-ville: A Guide for Teenage Part-Veela) before skimming the open pages:

…As a veela, your mate means everything to you. Be prepared to find yourself more protective, possessive, and powerful then you've ever been in your life when it comes to your partner…

…To attract your partner is the main function of the famous "allure" of the veela. Even witches and wizards who can combat the Imperious curse can fall under the veela's spell if it is powerful enough….

The last lines on the page in particular jumped out at Harry:

…The idea of not being with your mate is unthinkable, and no veela will want to suffer the heartache that comes with rejection…should your mate reject you, a terrible depression will engulf you, and that misery and anguish will haunt you for the rest of your life. This is the price that veela pay for their powerful magical abilities, this strong dependence on another…do not let your mate reject you, or unhappiness and grief will haunt you until the end of your days…

Harry bit his lip as fresh guilt surged through his body. No wonder Draco had looked so terrible last week, when he and Harry had fought. And no wonder Draco had broken down sobbing when Harry had told him he hated him. Harry felt a moment of utter self-loathing for the pain he had inadvertently caused the blonde. Then, setting the book back down on the bed, he left the room, more determined then ever to find Draco.

Harry scoured the castle on his way up to Gryffindor tower. He checked the library, the Charms corridor, the Astronomy tower, and he even checked the Slytherin common room. Draco was nowhere to be found.

In a bit of a panic, Harry dashed up to his room to check his Marauders' Map. The storm was coming down in full force outside now, and the rain howled outside and beat against the windows of his tower as he dug through his trunk and pulled out his treasured possession. Scanning the parchment, he breathed a sigh of relief when he found Draco's name. Then he blinked. The blonde was outside, at the edge of the lake.

Was he crazy? It was absolutely pouring outside! Without stopping to grab his invisibility cloak, or indeed, even his regular cloak, Harry sprinted through the castle in his t-shirt and burst out through the doors of the castle into the storm, running for the lake.

'''''''''''''''

From his warm and dry spot under his weather-proofed cloak, Draco threw another rock into the water. You couldn't even see the ripples it made because of how heavily the rain was coming down. He sighed.

It wasn't that being a veela was bad, per say. It was just…unexpected. Not only was he not actually a pure-blooded wizard, but he wasn't even human.

He sighed again. A cold, gnawing feeling had been worrying him ever since Granger's revelation this morning - what if Harry didn't want him anymore? He was, after all, an animal - just some magical creature, not even a real wizard. Oh sure, Harry was friends with that werewolf, but this was more than friends. This was for life. No way Harry would want some half-blood freak when he could have his pick of any witch or wizard in Britain.

A tight, angry feeling arose in Draco's chest at the thought of Harry with anyone other than him, a powerful surge of that now familiar, irrational jealousy. Draco groaned and buried his head in his hands. This was horrible. Harry would never want him. Not now that he knew the truth. Draco was doomed to a life of misery and loneliness, a wretched existence of pining for someone who would never want him back.

"Draco…"

Draco heard his name being called, and he instinctively looked up. The sight that met his eyes hit him hard in the stomach, and caused his heart to leap into his throat. Harry was running towards him in the pouring rain, t-shirt soaking wet and plastered to his skin, hair dripping and hanging in his eyes.

And he was calling Draco's name.

"Draco…" Harry panted, stopping a couple of feet from Draco. He put his hands on his knees and bent down, trying to catch his breath. "What…are…you…doing out here?" he managed to say.

Draco shrugged. "Thinking," was all he said back.

Harry glared at him as he took a few more deep breaths, and then straightened up and narrowed his eyes. "Thinking? I'd say you were not thinking, you idiot. It's absolutely freezing out here, you could get sick!"

Draco blinked. Did Harry just scold him for not taking care of himself? Did Harry still care? Draco opened his mouth to say something but Harry cut him off.

"I've been worried sick about you all day, you know," he said, his glare increasing as his worry morphed into anger. "I looked all over the bloody castle for you only to find you out here! In the freezing cold rain! ALONE! What are you doing?? Come inside where it's warm!"

A small, warm feeling began to grow inside Draco's chest as he saw Harry's upset expression and heard the worry and concern so plainly obvious through the anger in Harry's voice. Then he shook it off. Harry was a hero, that's what he was. He cared about everyone. It didn't mean he still wanted Draco.

Harry seemed to notice the despondent look on Draco's face and took a deep breath. "Look, Draco, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. It's just…you were gone all day, and I was worried you might be hurt, or you might have worked yourself into a state over something, and I just…look, we really need to talk. Please come inside?"

He held out a dripping hand to Draco, who took it in surprise.

Harry pulled Draco to his feet and they stood together, hands still lightly clasped. After a moment Harry reached out with his free hand and brushed a lock of blonde hair out of Draco's face, miraculously dry under his weather-proof cloak. He let his hand linger against Draco's face for a moment, before suddenly yanking the Slytherin into a fierce hug.

"I was really worried about you when I couldn't find you," Harry confessed, pulling back to look at Draco's face. "Are you okay?"

Draco gulped. "No, Harry, I'm not," he admitted, simultaneously enjoying the feeling of Harry's arms around him while being desperately afraid this would be the last time he felt them.

Harry looked at him with the utmost concern. "What's wrong?" he asked, studying Draco's face intently. Draco flushed a little under the scrutiny, but steeled himself. He had to ask. He had to know.

"It's just…this whole veela thing is kind of hard to deal with, you know? I'm not really a wizard, I'm…something else," Draco began. Harry nodded, keeping his arms loosely around Draco's waist. "And…well…" Here Draco bit his lip and closed his eyes. He couldn't bear to watch. "Look, Harry, I understand if you want to leave me. It's okay. I won't be mad at you."

Harry went rigid with shock for a moment, before he crushed the blonde to him in a bear hug. After a moment, he pulled back and stared right into Draco's eyes.

"How can you say that?" he asked, angrily. "Why would I ever want to leave you?"

Draco met Harry's intense green gaze with his melancholy grey one. "Well, it's just…I couldn't blame you, you know, if you didn't want to be with some kind of an animal. With a freak like me."

Harry practically growled, and seized the blonde by the shoulders and glared at him. "You're barking mad, you know that?"

Draco opened his mouth to respond, but Harry ignored him and carried on. "Listen to me, Draco. I don't care that you're part veela. Hell, I like it. It's unique and special. It makes you even more fascinating and wonderful in my eyes. You are not a freak, and if you ever say that again I will smack you, I mean it. Do you understand?"

Draco looked into twin green pools through the raindrops streaming down the lenses of those famous glasses. Harry was utterly serious and honest. Draco's heart gave an enormous leap.

"You…you don't mind that I'm part veela?" he asked, hardly daring to hope it was true.

"You complete and utter moron," Harry said, tightening his arms around the blonde. He looked seriously into Draco's eyes, only inches from his own. "I like it, Draco. I like you. And I most definitely still want you. Exactly as you are."

And with that Harry kissed him with all the passion and longing he'd been storing up for days. With a cry of joy Draco responded, throwing his arms around Harry's neck and pulling him in as close to his body as he could, and the rain poured down upon them as they kissed by the side of the lake.

11   Closer to You

Harry and Draco finally broke apart from their kiss to stare into each other's eyes, foreheads pressed together.

"I can't believe you're really okay with this," Draco breathed, a smile playing on his face. Harry smiled back.

"Yeah, well, believe it. You know, I knew you were going to get all worked up about this."

"What do you mean?"

Harry put a reassuring hand on the back of Draco's head, on top of the hood of his cloak. "I just knew you'd be all worried and freaking out about something. That's why I was so determined to find you. I wanted you to know everything will be okay. Neither of us knows exactly what will happen, but we can at least find out togeth - ACHOO!"

Harry cut off his own sentence with an enormous sneeze, turning away from Draco.

Draco sized him up and the realization hit him hard. "Potter, where's your cloak?" he asked suspiciously.

Harry shrugged. "Didn't have time to grab it. Wanted to come and see - ACHOO!" he sneezed again.

Draco was furious. "We have to get inside, you stupid prat! What were you thinking, coming out here in the freezing rain without even a cloak? You're going to get sick!" Draco was glaring hard at Harry, who glared right back.

"You're the one who chose the great outdoors during a rainstorm to sit and have a think," he retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

Draco gave him a pained and exasperated look. "Yes. However, veela are not as susceptible to the weather as humans. They live in forests, you know. I've got some natural protection from the elements."

"Did you learn that in one of your books?" Harry asked with interest.

"As a matter of fact, I did. I'm much better off in bad weather than you are, and much less likely to get sick. And on top of that, I had the common sense to wear my warmest cloak, which happens to be completely weatherproofed. I am warm and dry right now. You are soaked to the skin."

Harry shrugged. "I'm really fi - ACHOO!"

"Oh yes, just fine," Draco said sarcastically. "That's why you're sneezing so much. Because you're fine."

Draco looked closely at Harry. "And you're shivering, you idiot!" He reached out and seized Harry by the arm. "That's it. We're going inside." And he began walking towards the castle at top speed, dragging Harry along behind him.

Harry, now that he wasn't completely focused on Draco, had realized that he was, indeed, freezing. This included his feet, which were clad only in trainers that were now completely soaked through. As a result he couldn't keep up with Draco, and kept tripping as the blonde hauled him along.

"Draco, slow down," he panted, as Draco mercilessly yanked him along the footpath up to the castle. The Slytherin ignored him.

"Draco! Oh come on! Slow down just a bit."

Draco ignored those pleas as well, intent on getting Harry warm and dry as fast as possible. Harry's clumsy, frozen feet hit a particularly large rock, and he stumbled violently. Draco held him securely, kept him from falling, and still didn't slacken his pace.

Harry glared at him. "Draco, stop," he tried ordering. Draco pressed on. "Draco, I said STOP," he tried again. No luck. Steeling himself, he tried one last time in his most authoritative voice.

"Draco, I order you to STOP."

And stop Draco did. He dropped Harry's arm and turned to face the Gryffindor, crossing his arms over his chest. For a moment Harry felt a slight victory. Then he took a good look at Draco's face and gulped.

"Harry," the blonde began, in an eerie sort of voice, "did you just try to order me to do something?"

"Um…no?" Harry said, smiling in what he hoped was a charming manner.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "So when you said Draco, I order you to stop, you weren't actually trying to order me to do something? Is that what you're saying?"

"Um…yes?" Harry said, faltering a little as he realized his smile wasn't charming Draco the way he had hoped.

"I see," was all Draco said back, glaring full force at Harry, who smiled weakly back. The silence between them grew for a moment, and finally Harry couldn't help but ask.

"So…did it work?" he blurted out, and Draco gave him an icy smile.

"No," he said shortly. "It didn't."

And with that he grabbed Harry's arm again and set off towards the castle, walking even faster than before. This time, Harry knew better than to even grumble.

''''''''''''

Draco dragged Harry up to the castle, through the Entrance Hall and down several corridors, finally coming to a stop in front of the dragon portrait that guarded his room. Spitting out the password, he practically threw Harry inside and shut the door behind them.

"Go stand by the bed," he said, in a tone that brooked no arguments. Harry shot him a dirty look, but did as he was told. He moved over and stood next to Draco's bed, now shivering violently. Draco's room was still fairly close to the Slytherin dungeons, and it was a bit cold and drafty. He clenched his arms tightly around his chest, trying desperately to stop the quaking movements of his body before Draco noticed.

Draco had wandered over to his closet, throwing open the doors and grabbing a pair of pajamas. He turned around, and his eyes fell on the shaking Gryffindor, who still had water dripping off his hair and body.

"Oh, Harry," Draco said worriedly, grabbing a large fluffy towel from his linen stack. He quickly crossed the distance to the bed, dropped the pajamas on the chair and reached out with the towel, wrapping it around Harry.

"We need to get you out of those wet clothes, and fast," he said with obvious distress. Harry just nodded. Speaking was a bit out of the question, thanks to the chattering of his teeth. He unwrapped his arms from his torso, and with shaking hands reached for the hem of his t-shirt.

"Let me do it," Draco said impatiently, unwilling to wait for Harry's slow movements. He grabbed the bottom of Harry's wet t-shirt and pulled the sodden garment quickly over Harry's head, catching Harry's glasses and knocking them askew.

"Sorry about that," Draco muttered, reaching up to straighten Harry's glasses. He gently straightened the lenses on the Gryffindor's face, and then tenderly ran his fingers down Harry's cheek. "I can't believe you, Potter," he said, with a hint of affection in his voice.

"W-w-what?" Harry managed to say through chattering teeth. Draco grabbed the towel and rubbed Harry's hair with it before draping it over the Gryffindor's shoulders and pulling it tightly closed in the front.

"I can't believe you came after me like that, without even thinking of your own comfort or safety." Draco's tone was half scolding, half loving. "Next time, at least grab your cloak, alright?"

"Yeah, well, next t-time c-c-come and t-t-talk to me first," Harry replied defiantly. "Instead of getting all p-p-paranoid and running off."

"Point taken," Draco conceded, rubbing his arms up and down Harry's over the towel, roughly drying his body. His mind drifted for a moment as he felt the hard muscles of Harry's arms under his hands, sleek and firm to the touch. Suddenly, Draco began to feel a bit warm. Unbidden, his eyes strayed down to Harry's naked torso, covered only partially by the towel. Smooth, soft skin, still glistening slightly from the rain. Defined chest muscles and perfectly flat abs. Unable to stop himself, Draco's hands drifted from Harry's arms to Harry's chest, tracing a line from his collarbone to his belly button.

Draco's touch left a fiery trail on Harry's skin. Harry's eyes fluttered closed as the blonde's questing fingers traveled lightly over Harry's chest and stomach. Draco's hands continued their journey, and when they traced across the skin just above the soaking wet waistband of his jeans, Harry made a quiet sound as his breath hitched noticeably.

It was a small noise, certainly, but it pierced into Draco's heart like a dagger, sending blood streaming through his veins. His veela instincts took over, and forgetting that Harry was shivering and freezing, forgetting that they had really only shared a couple kisses to date, Draco suddenly shoved Harry backwards towards the bed with real force.

Harry landed on his back on the bed with an 'oomph' of surprise, Draco falling on top of him. Before he could blink the blonde's mouth was latched to his, kissing with a passion that sent Harry's mind reeling. Draco's tongue snaked out and traced Harry's lips, and then he bit Harry's lower lip, and none too gently either. Harry gasped and opened his mouth, and then Draco's tongue was deep inside, probing, tasting, claiming.

Draco hands were no less active. They snaked over every inch of Harry's torso not covered by his own body. They ran through Harry's sopping wet hair, twisting the black strands between his fingers. They felt and explored every inch of bare skin, slowly making an unmistakable journey lower.

Harry's mind seemed to have taken a permanent vacation as he submitted to every touch, every kiss, every caress that Draco was leaving on his skin. Excited sparks were shooting through his body at each and every point of contact with the blonde. Harry was faintly aware that he wasn't in control of the situation at all, and that his mind wasn't functioning properly, but none of that was important. The only thing that was important was Draco.

Until Draco brushed a rough and insistent hand over Harry's crotch.

Harry's eyes flew open, startled at the action. Suddenly, his brain came back on line. "Draco," he managed to say, whether out of lust or fear, he wasn't sure.

Somehow, Harry's voice penetrated through the thick haze in Draco's brain, and Draco stopped. Harry looked up at him, only to see Draco staring at him with an intense hunger that looked barely contained.

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, and Harry realized with a jolt that Draco was licking his lips.

And then the blonde sank his mouth onto Harry's again, kissing him even more hungrily than before, the kisses almost bruising. Insistent hands traveled back over Harry's body, and this time Draco plunged his hand straight into Harry's loose-fitting jeans.

And suddenly Harry's mind was flung back to that horrible night in the corridor, when Justin Finch-Fletchley had shoved him up against the wall and tried to assault him. Without meaning to Harry cried out in fear against Draco's mouth.

The blonde stopped and pulled back, panting heavily. Harry looked up at him, his eyes wide and fearful.

"I'm sorry, Draco," he managed to whisper, biting his lip. "I can't. I'm sorry."

Draco froze. His veela senses were on overload, and were crying out for release. There was nothing he wanted more in the world than Harry, right there, right at that moment.

As he watched Harry squirm slightly underneath him, on some level he wondered if he turned on his veela charms strong enough if Harry would still be able to resist.

But he couldn't do that. He stayed perfectly still for a moment, his dual nature fighting itself. Breathing harshly, he looked in Harry's nervous green eyes. Beneath the anxiety and the fear, there was trust. Harry trusted him not to take advantage of him, and damn it, Draco had to let him go.

He quickly stood up, grabbed the pajamas off the chair and threw them at Harry.

"Go into the bathroom and put those on," he said, in a voice low and rough with desire.

Harry tried to protest. "But -

"Now, Potter. Or you're going to find yourself alone with a very horny veela and in way over your head." He grabbed Harry's hand and yanked him to his feet, then pushed him into the bathroom, slamming the door behind Harry.

"And lock the door!" Draco commanded as he leaned back against the bathroom door, heart pounding and breath coming in quick, heavy pants.

'''''''''''

Inside the bathroom, Harry was slowly stripping off his wet clothes. He was more than a little shaken. Of all the reactions he had expected to have if he and Draco took their relationship beyond snogging, this wasn't one of them. He had never expected to be scared. That wasn't Gryffindor territory. And what sixteen year-old boy was scared of sex?

Harry felt ridiculous. Here he had this incredible, gorgeous veela who was gagging for him outside, and instead he was in the bathroom, shaking slightly, and locking the door to keep him out.

Harry took a deep, steadying breath. He could beat this. He would. He wouldn't allow the demons of the past to ruin his relationship with Draco. And besides, Draco already knew about the Hufflepuffs. He would understand that Harry wanted to take it slow, because of his near sexual assault at the hands of two trusted classmates last week.

Everything would be okay, because he knew he could trust Draco. The veela would never push him beyond what he was comfortable with. Making their mate unhappy went against every fiber of a veela's being. And Harry always had that last bit of absolute power, right? If he got really scared and yelled "STOP!" Draco would be forced to stop. Harry had nothing to worry about.

'''''''''''''''

Outside his bathroom door, the veela and the wizard inside Draco were engaged in a gruesome battle, and the veela was winning. The veela wanted to storm the bathroom and have his wicked way with Harry right there on the bathroom floor. As Draco leaned against the door, he heard the sound of wet clothes being dropped on the floor, and a small moan escaped his lips. Against his will his hand reached out and grabbed the knob of the bathroom door, attempting to open it and join his naked mate.

It was locked.

Draco let out a cry of frustration and banged his head backwards against the door. At this point, the wizard in Draco made an appearance.

Get out of there. Right now. You saw the look on Harry's face. He isn't ready. Leave him alone and come back when you're calmer.

Draco took a deep breath. He didn't want to go, but it was the only way. He tentatively knocked on the door.

"Harry?" he called out.

There was a pause.

"Yeah?" said Harry, a myriad of emotions that Draco couldn't quite decipher expressed in the one word.

"I'll be right back, okay? I'm going down to the kitchens. When you get out, get in my bed under the covers, alright?"

"Alright," Harry called through the door. And then, in a slightly softer voice, he added, "thanks."

"Don't thank me," Draco muttered under his breath as he left the room. "You're not safe yet."

'''''''''''''''

Luckily, the walk to the kitchens completely cleared Draco's head, and then the brief conversation with the house elves most definitely removed the thought of sex from his mind. Getting a tray of hot chocolate and cream cakes, he made his way back to his room.

He spoke the password and slipped inside. He looked over at the bed, and was happy to see that Harry was buried under the covers, so much so that not even his messy black hair was visible. Draco walked over and set the tray down on the nightstand, his fond smile turning into a frown when he noticed Harry's body was still shaking slightly.

"Harry?" he asked with concern.

"Yeah?" Harry replied, still a lump under the covers, not even bothering to poke his head out.

"I brought hot chocolate. You should drink it; it'll help warm you up."

The lump shifted, and then the top of Harry's head finally made an appearance, followed by his bright green eyes. "Hot chocolate? Really?" He held out a hand. Draco handed him a mug, and Harry sat up a bit in bed to drink.

He took a sip. "So good," he said, leaning back against pillows, eyes closed in ecstasy. There was something magical about the hot chocolate at Hogwarts; it always warmed you up a good deal more than it should have. Draco watched him drink dotingly, sipping on his own hot chocolate.

"Feeling better?" he finally asked, and Harry gave him a smile.

"Loads," he replied, handing the now empty mug back to Draco, who set it on the night table. He smiled as Draco started in on a cream cake. "So, is your perpetual sweet tooth actually a veela thing too?"

"Erm, yes," Draco managed to say through a mouthful of cake. "Sugar's one thing that feeds the attraction I can give off."

"Sugar's just one thing? What else is there?"

Draco smirked a bit. "You, of course."

"Oh," said Harry, his cheeks flushing slightly. He was silent for a moment, and then said, "You just did that veela thing to me, didn't you? Right before you made me hide in the bathroom?"

Draco felt vaguely guilty. "Um, well…yes, I guess I did. Just for a minute. But I didn't mean to, I don't really have it under control yet. I tried to practice a bit today but I'm still learning and -

"Draco, it's okay. I know you're new to all this. And it's not like it feels bad. Actually, it uh…it feels pretty good," Harry admitted shyly. "It's just…the attraction can take over people's minds and stuff."

"I know," said Draco, sheepishly. "I'll try to keep it in check, I swear. You're just so freaking hot I can't help myself."

Harry's face flushed a lot more than slightly at that, and Draco had to smile. Here, in Draco's bed under Draco's covers and in Draco's pajamas, Harry was utterly adorable. Draco's heart gave a leap as he realized that this adorable creature had chosen to be with him, veela or no.

"So…" trailed Harry, clearly dying for a subject change, "we've got a lot to talk about, don't we? I mean, I'd like to hear about everything you read today. Why don't you change and get in bed with me?"

Draco eyebrows shot up at light speed. "Wait…you want to spend the night with me?"

"Is that bad?" Harry asked, worriedly. "It was so nice last night being with you, and now that I don't have to worry that I'm taking advantage of you it'd be nice to just…" he trailed off when he realized Draco was staring at him.

"What?" he asked self-consciously.

"Aren't you worried that I might take advantage of you?" Draco asked pointedly. "I mean, I was ready to jump your bones twenty minutes ago. What makes you think I won't do it if I get in bed with you?"

Harry shrugged. "You seem to do okay as long as I'm dressed, so I'll just be sure to keep my clothes on."

At Draco's skeptical look, Harry made an impatient noise. "Draco, look, I trust you, okay? So please? I'm till kind of cold, you know."

Well, Draco could hardly refuse that, could he?

'''''''''''''''

Finally, the Slytherin and the Gryffindor were buried together under Draco's warm blankets and soft sheets. Draco gave a wave of his wand and said, "Nox," and the lights went out. Tucked snugly under the comforter, listening to the rain lash against the window and the wind howl outside, Harry felt very cozy indeed. Now, if he could just get a little closer to Draco…

He inched his body ever so slightly in the blonde's direction. Draco had apparently had the same idea, because in short order Harry found his side pressed up against Draco's side as they both lay on their backs. Harry reached down and found Draco's hand, lightly entwining his slightly calloused fingers with Draco's silky soft ones.

"So, what did you learn today?" Harry finally asked, feeling extremely content and thoroughly warm for the first time all evening next to Draco's warm body.

"Oh, loads of stuff," Draco replied enigmatically. Harry rolled his eyes in the dark.

"Like what?" he prodded, poking Draco with his free hand.

"Oh, like how I'm always going to be ridiculously jealous and possessive about you, and if you ever don't want me I'll get insanely depressed, and there's a chance I might kill someone if I'm trying to protect you so I'm probably bloody dangerous."

Harry was quiet for a moment. "Well, um…what did you learn that was good?" he finally asked.

Draco smiled in the darkness. "Well, I'll always be gorgeous, that's something good."

Harry snorted.

"Quiet, Potter, you know it's true. Let's see…I'll also be able to somewhat control people with my powers of attraction, and I'll get stronger and more agile. But the best thing of all is that I should have much stronger magical power."

"Really?" said Harry, with interest. "Well, Fleur was the Beauxbatons champion; she had to be really strong magically. So you will be too."

Harry paused. "I have to ask. If you get pissed off are you going to change into a giant bird?" Harry asked. He'd been wondering about it all day.

In the darkness Harry could feel Draco shrug. "Don't know. Some part-veela do, some don't. Only time will tell."

While Harry contemplated this, he could feel Draco start to fidget awkwardly.

"Look, Harry, about earlier…" the blonde began quietly. "I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry. I didn't mean make you uncomfortable."

"Oh, no, Draco, it's not your fault. Not at all," Harry hastened to reassure him. Draco didn't look convinced.

"No, it was my fault, I pushed you too far and I scared you, and I feel really terrible about it and - "

"Draco," said Harry firmly. "It wasn't your fault. I wasn't scared of you."

Draco was silent for a moment. "Then why did you cry out like you were afraid?"

Despite the fact that Harry was extremely embarrassed with the whole situation, he felt that Draco deserved the truth. "I just…it reminded me of the incident last week. With Justin and Ernie," he said in a very quiet voice.

Next to him, Draco froze. "I'm going to kill them," the blonde bit out in a voice as cold as ice. Harry quickly turned on his side to face Draco.

"No, you're not," he said gravely. "They were under the Imperious curse and it wasn't their fault. And they didn't actually succeed with rape, you know, they just roughed me up a bit. I'll get over it."

Draco sat bolt upright. "Just roughed you up a bit?" he said, in an angry, incredulous voice. "Potter, they had you pinned and your pants undone. They would have succeeded if Granger and I hadn't shown up. How can you be so relaxed about this?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm Harry Potter. These kinds of things happen to me and I have to learn to deal with it. And besides, obviously I'm not so relaxed about this because I got freaked out earlier with you, right? But like I said, nothing really happened. I'm just being stupid, and I'll get over it."

Draco was fuming. "Potter, I can't believe you. Of course you're going to be freaked out about sex for a bit, it's completely natural. You are not being stupid, and if you ever call yourself stupid over this incident again I'll make you very, very sorry."

"Threatening me now, are we?" Harry said in a teasing voice, trying to lighten the mood. "Isn't that against your veela code or something?"

At Harry's light tone of voice and teasing words, Draco relaxed a little and slid back under the covers with Harry.

"Probably," he admitted. "But it's not against any wizard codes, and I'm only part veela, you know."

Harry smiled. "I know. Your better part."

"Ha ha," said Draco sarcastically. He reached out, and Harry closed his eyes as Draco's hand began to lightly trace his cheek.

"Harry, why are you okay with all of this?" the blonde asked suddenly, startling Harry.

"Okay with all what?"

"All the veela stuff. I mean, you're not a veela, so you've got no reason to like me back. And I've been horrible to you for years. How can you just put everything aside and want to be with me so quickly?"

There was a moment of quiet.

"Not that I'm complaining," Draco added hastily.

Harry was staring into the darkness, pondering Draco's question. "I don't exactly know," he finally admitted. "It's just…well…this is a magical bind between us. It means you'll always love me and need me, and that's something a lot of people can't say they'll ever have. I'd be a fool not to see that."

Harry swallowed, thinking of eleven years spent unwanted in a cupboard. "Believe me, Draco, I'm the last person who would ever throw away a chance to love and be loved."

Harry flinched as he thought about how needy and pathetic he sounded. He hoped Draco wouldn't notice, but he seemed upset by Harry's words.

"What do you mean?" the blonde asked worriedly.

"Nothing," said Harry, brushing it off. Under no circumstances was he going to tell Draco what his life was like with the Dursleys. "I'm just being melodramatic."

Draco was about to argue, but with the cunningness of a Slytherin Harry quickly changed the subject.

"You know, it's a shame that it didn't work earlier when I tried to order you to stop on the way to the castle. I'm going to have to work on that."

As Harry knew he would, Draco immediately forgot what they were talking about and bristled at Harry's words. "You'll do no such thing, Potter. I don't want you able to order me about at will."

"Ah, but I want to able to. Think about how much fun that could be."

"For you, maybe," Draco grumbled.

"Oh please. You've got those blasted veela powers that you can use on me to get me to fulfill your every whim. It's only fair."

"I thought my veela charms didn't work on you," Draco said, sounding quite intrigued by this new information.

"Oh, um, that's right, they don't work, not at all," Harry said, blurting the words out suspiciously fast.

Draco smirked triumphantly and rolled on his side to face Harry. "You're such a bad liar," he said, affectionately. "So they work?"

"Maybe a little," Harry admitted grudgingly. Draco made a soft noise of triumph. "Oh, don't be so smug. I'm going to figure out how to order you around whenever I want, and then we'll see whose laughing."

"Right, Potter." Draco obviously didn't think much of his chances. "You do that."

"Stupid veela," Harry muttered under his breath, flopping back on his back.

Draco laughed. "But I'm your stupid veela," he said sweetly, moving over as close to Harry as he could get and laying his head down on Harry's chest.

And even if he had actually been angry Harry was pretty sure he would have melted the moment Draco's head was pillowed so trustingly on top of him. He put one arm around Draco's back and with the other reached up to play with Draco's hair.

"That you are," he said softly, sliding the silky strands through his fingers.

"Mmmm," said Draco, sounding a bit punch-drunk. He nuzzled even closer to Harry. "I love it when you do that. It feels sooo good."

"Really?" Harry asked. He unconsciously tightened his arm around Draco's back, overwhelmed for a moment by the beautiful creature sprawled over him.

"Mmmm," was all Draco said back. His breathing was becoming very slow and regular, and his weight on top of Harry's chest was very comforting.

Harry touched his cheek to Draco's soft hair and hugged him tight, distantly aware that he was treating Draco like a large teddy and that Draco seemed to really like it. After a few minutes, Harry kissed him on the top of his head.

"'Night, Draco," he said sleepily. There was no answer. Draco was fast asleep. Harry leaned his black head against the blonde's and almost instantly joined him in slumber.

12  Surprise, Lucius!

The next morning, Harry woke up to the sound of Draco swearing.

"Oh, bollocks," the blonde was saying in an annoyed voice, glaring at the alarm cloak on the night stand. Harry sat up a bit in bed, yawning.

"What's wrong?" he asked sleepily, watching a fuzzy, out-of-focus Draco through half opened eyes.

"We're late, that's what's wrong," Draco said irritably, looking at the clock. Harry squinted past Draco, but couldn't make out what the clock said.

"We're late? What time is it?" Harry asked, not feeling particularly concerned about being late himself but trying to be sympathetic to Draco's obvious state of distress.

"It's already 7am! We have class in one hour, we've got to hurry!" Draco said in an agitated voice, throwing the covers off.

Harry just stared at him. "It's only seven? And you want to get up? Fuck that. I'm going back to sleep," he said, rolling over on his side away from Draco and pulling the covers up over his head.

Draco promptly yanked them off back off.

"Draco, what the hell do you think you're doing? It's freezing!" Harry glared up at the blonde. "Give me back my covers!"

"No."

"Draaaco…"

"No. We're getting up."

Harry sat up in the bed, reached for his glasses, put them on and resumed glaring at the now in-focus Slytherin.

"Draco, why on earth are we getting up so early?"

"So early!" Draco said, sounding incredulous. "This isn't early, this is late! I have to shower, pick out my clothes, do my hair, check my homework over, get some breakfast and - "

"You're a morning person, aren't you?" Harry accused, in the same tone of voice someone might use to say you eat small children, don't you?

"No, I just happen to actually care what I look like," Draco said haughtily. "And you know, Harry, it wouldn't kill you to think about your hair or clothes once in awhile. You always look positively atrocious."

"Nice try, Malfoy. I happen to know that you will always think I'm hot, no matter what my hair looks like or what I'm wearing."

Draco scowled at this very factual statement of Harry's. "That is so not true," he denied.

"Liar," said Harry affectionately. "But it's okay. I always think you're hot, no matter what."

Draco brightened considerably. "Really?"

"Really really. Now can I have my covers back please?" Harry hoped that the compliment would get Draco to relent and give him back the blankets.

No such luck. Draco had other ideas. "Harry, why don't you go take a shower, and I'll pick out some clothes for you to wear. Oooh, and then I can fix your hair, and pick out a cologne for you, and then -

Harry's eyes grew very wide as he realized just how gay his new boyfriend really was.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"I look like a bloody ponce," Harry muttered mutinously under his breath as he and Draco walked towards the Great Hall.

"No, you look bloody gorgeous," Draco corrected him, eying Harry very appreciatively. He was dressed head to toe in Draco's clothes, from his fitted white dress shirt to the tailored grey slacks to the transfigured wizard's cloak over it all. De-licious.

"But your stupid little midget clothes are so small. They don't fit and I look ridiculous," Harry whined, fidgeting irritably with his shirt.

They were, truthfully, the slightest bit too small, but Draco would not have admitted that in a million years.

"No, they fit you perfectly, you idiot, so quit complaining. I told you we were the same size," he said smugly. "Besides, I've never understood why you wear such old, baggy clothes in the first place. They obviously don't fit you at all. Where do you normally get your clothes from?"

"Uh…" this was not a good topic of conversation. Harry was not about to say 'oh, I get them from my horrible, enormous fat cousin after he's worn them almost completely out because my aunt and uncle won't by me any clothes of my own.'

Right. It was definitely time to change the subject.

"So, you really don't think we should tell anyone you're a veela?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Very smooth subject change, Potter. I take it you're ready to talk about something besides clothes?"

Harry nodded fervently.

"Alright, I'll let you have your way this once. No, I don't want to tell anyone I'm a veela. I don't think I'm ready to deal with having to explain things."

"Not even Dumbledore?"

Draco shook his head. "Not yet. Soon. I just want to get used to it myself."

"Alright, then," Harry said, shrugging. It was, after all, Draco's decision. "So then we should probably just act normally towards each other, don't you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we should act like we used to, before all the…you know, kissy-kissy stuff," Harry said, blushing only slightly.

Draco looked amused. "The kissy-kissy stuff, Potter? Been hanging out with the first-year Hufflepuffs again?"

"Shut up," Harry muttered ineffectually, knocking Draco slightly with his shoulder. Draco retaliated by pulling him into a side corridor.

"Speaking of kissy-kissy stuff," he said a little breathlessly, pushing Harry gently against the stone wall, "Perhaps we could do a little of that before breakfast?"

He didn't wait for Harry's answer before leaning in and firmly pressing his lips against Harry's. Harry responded eagerly, closing his eyes and opening his mouth under Draco's caressing tongue. He reached up to bury his hands in Draco's incredibly silky locks and run his fingers through the blonde strands of hair.

Draco responded eagerly to this, moaning softly and pushing against Harry. He pressed his hips against the Gryffindor's and thrusting slightly.

Harry's eyes flew open. "Draco," he said in a slightly anxious voice. Draco ignored him in favor of licking a trail from Harry's collarbone to his ear.

"Mmm, you taste like whipped cream," Draco said playfully to Harry's ear, and punctuated this by grinding his hips against Harry's again.

"Draco, stop," Harry said uncomfortably, pulling away slightly from the blonde. Draco looked straight into his eyes.

"Are you sure you want me to stop, Harry?" he asked sweetly. Harry stared into those mesmerizing silver eyes, and suddenly he didn't want Draco to stop at all.

"No, don't stop," he whispered huskily, pressing his lips decisively back against Draco's. This time Harry took the lead in the kiss, nibbling on Draco's lips, swirling his tongue over Draco's lips and teeth and plunging it into Draco's mouth.

Draco made a mewling noise of pleasure as Harry suddenly spun them around and reversed their positions, so that Draco now found himself with his back pressed up against the stone wall of the corridor with his Gryffindor mate tightly on top of him. He returned Harry's kisses with a fervor, bursts of pleasure exploding on each and every place on his skin that Harry touched.

Harry, meanwhile, was lost in a daze. Draco's hands were up his shirt and on his bare back, and there was fire everywhere the blonde's fingers touched. His head was swimming, and he felt an overwhelming need to impress Draco, to satisfy Draco, and just to possess Draco. He pressed his hips hard against Draco's, and both boys gasped at the pleasure that surged through them.

And then, in the corridor just to the side, they heard voices, and it was enough to break the spell.

Harry tore away from Draco just in time before they were seen by two passing four-year Ravenclaws. He backed away slowly and leaned against the wall of the corridor opposite of Draco. He was breathing heavily and looking at the blonde with big, incredulous, slightly angry green eyes.

"You just did your veela thing to me again, didn't you?"

Draco looked vaguely guilty. "Um…no?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Yes, you did. I know you did. I can tell when you're doing it, you know."

Draco sighed dramatically. "Alright, fine. You caught me."

"Draco, you can't do that to me!" Harry said a little angrily. "It's…it's just not fair."

"But Harry, I just wanted to see if I could make it work on you, that's all," Draco said, a little sulkily.

Harry gave him a very irritated glance. "Well, congratulations," he said shortly. "It works."

"But that's brilliant!" Draco said enthusiastically. Harry crossed his arms over his chest and looked rather menacing. "Or…um…it's not brilliant, it's uh…it's very, very wrong to take advantage of you, and I'll try not to do it again?"

"Good answer," Harry said tersely, torn between being angry at Draco for using his veela powers like that and wanting Draco to do it again.

Draco slid over to his side of the corridor and twined his arms around Harry's neck. "You're not mad at me, are you Harry?" he asked, making a sad, pouting face.

And as sad, pouting veela usually get what they want, Harry completely relented and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist.

"No, I'm not mad," he said in a long-suffering sort of voice, and Draco smiled happily at him.

"Good," he said brightly, pulling Harry's body closer to his own. "I really am sorry, you know," he apologized, kissing Harry gently on the nose. Harry smiled back.

"No you're not," he said in a voice half-playful, half-exasperated.

"Yeah, alright, I'm not," Draco admitted. "But I will really try to stop using my veela powers on you without permission. It just…well, it feels different when I'm doing it, doesn't it? Like, extra good?"

Harry blushed slightly, and couldn't quite meet Draco's eyes. "Yeah…" he said in a very embarrassed voice, "yeah, it does. I'm just not ready, alright?"

"Alright," Draco said agreeably, studying Harry's pinkening face. He smiled. "Aw," the blonde cooed, "Look at you blushing. You're so cute."

"Shut up," Harry muttered, although his heart gave a little leap. This was the first time in his life anyone had ever told him he was cute.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Harry and Draco didn't have any classes together that morning, so it wasn't until lunch time that Draco had another chance to see Harry. Eager to see Harry once again, he decided to meet the Gryffindor after Transfiguration. He walked quickly down the corridor, hoping to catch Harry just as he was leaving.

He turned the corner, heading for Professor McGonagall's classroom, and spotted Harry standing just outside the door.

And then he spotted Lavender Brown standing next to Harry, talking with him eagerly and resting a hand on his arm.

Draco took a very deep breath and fought down the surge of jealousy that rose up in his throat. He marched over to Harry and Lavender to find out exactly what was going on.

" - wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me sometime?" Lavender was saying, as Draco got within earshot. Harry seemed slightly uncomfortable.

"Thanks very much Lavender, but I'm not sure I should -

Harry never got to finish his sentence.

"Brown, are you asking Potter here on a date?" Draco practically snarled, as he went to stand next to Harry.

"Draco, hi," Harry said, trying to get the blonde's attention, looking a little worried by the maniacal glow in Draco's eyes. Draco ignored him and continued to speak to the flabbergasted Lavender.

"For your sake, Brown, I hope that's not what you're doing," Draco spat, sounding very threatening. "I don't think I'd like it very much if you were trying to date my - my - Potter," he finished lamely, having almost said the word boyfriend to Lavender on accident.

"Draco, Lavender and I are just friends," Harry said quickly and placatingly. Lavender and Draco, however, were glaring at each other and ignoring Harry.

"Honestly, Malfoy, I don't understand. Why do you care if I ask Harry to go to Hogsmeade with me?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest in irritation.

Draco gave her an evil smile. "I have my reasons," he said cryptically, eyes narrowed to mercury slits. "Besides, I don't think Potter here will go with you any way. You're not exactly his type."

"Oh really? And what's his type then, since you know him so well?" Lavender returned a bit sarcastically.

"Lavender, Draco, please, how about we all just forget about this and - "

"Tall, blonde and Slytherin," Draco said, interrupting Harry.

Lavender scoffed. "Oh, just like you? Is that it, then? You actually believe Harry would fancy an evil git like you?"

"Lavender, please," Harry said, as Draco's pale face became even paler with rage.

Lavender ignored his protests. "You're wrong, Malfoy," she said, moving closer to Harry. "You're the one who's not Harry's type. C'mon, Harry, let's go," she said, wrapping an arm around Harry's waist.

Harry opened his mouth to tell her no, but it was too late. Draco had already pulled out his wand and jammed it into Lavender's throat before either Harry or Lavender could move.

"Now you listen to me, Brown," Draco said, in a cold voice designed to send chills down your spine. "Get your fucking hands off Harry before I use a Severing charm to permanently remove them from your body."

Lavender's eyes went wide, but she did as Draco said.

"Good girl," Draco said in that same cold voice. "Now get the hell out of here, and don't ever lay so much as a finger on my mate again. Do you understand?"

Lavender nodded once, and Draco lowered the wand. With one fleeting, confused look at Harry, she took off running.

''''''''''''''''''''''

"Bloody hell, Draco, you even said the word mate. So much for the school not finding out you're a veela," Harry said, watching Lavender's fleeing back. Suddenly, he was pushed back against the wall by a furious blonde mass.

"You have some explaining to do, Potter," the Slytherin growled, pinning Harry to the wall by his shoulders. "Why were you talking to her? Why was she asking you out? Why was her hand on your arm?"

Harry, amazingly, didn't seem scared by the angry veela. Instead, he reached out and ran a hand down the side of Draco's face.

"Are you jealous?" he asked, and Draco narrowed his eyes.

"Yes," he hissed, and Harry smiled a disarmingly sweet smile at him.

"You don't have to be," he said softly. "She doesn't hold a candle to you. You're brilliant, and I'd never want anyone but you."

Draco's jealousy diffused like water streaming down a drain. He looked into Harry's eyes, which were shining with affection, and smiled back. And then Harry tentatively leaned forward and kissed him, and Draco happily responded. They kissed for several minutes outside the Transfiguration classroom, and this time Draco didn't try to use his veela charms on Harry.

This time.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''

Harry and Draco finally reluctantly broke apart and headed down the Great Hall for lunch. Draco walked over to the Slytherin table and camped out by his Slytherin cronies while Harry sat in his usual seat with Ron and Hermione.

As Harry began to eat, Hermione gave him a meaningful look.

"So, Harry," she began in a not-so-casual voice, "I heard an interesting story from Lavender Brown a few minutes ago."

"Did you?" said Harry conversationally, reaching for the bowl of potatoes.

"Yes," replied Hermione, fixing Harry with a pointed stare. "It seems that one Draco Malfoy threatened her quite ruthlessly because she was trying to invite you to Hogsmeade with her. She said something about him promising to sever the hands from her body if she ever so much as laid a finger on you again."

"Really?" Harry continued in a light, conversational tone. "Is that what she said?"

"Harry, is this story true?" Ron asked, incredulous. Harry shrugged.

"It might be," he said casually, reaching for his fork.

"HARRY!" Hermione cried, completely appalled. "How can you take this so lightly? Malfoy threatened another student at Hogwarts! That's completely unacceptable!"

"Oh, you're over-reacting. He was just got a little protective, that's all. He gets kind of jealous sometimes, you know," Harry said rather fondly, looking over at the Slytherin table where Draco was devouring his second bowl of chocolate pudding.

Hermione and Ron just stared at him. Finally, Hermione took a deep breath.

"Harry," she said sternly, "This is serious. You can't just let Draco go around threatening other people on your behalf!"

"Well, what I am supposed to do about it?" Harry asked mildly. "Whack him on the nose with a rolled up newspaper and say 'Bad Veela!'?"

Hermione seethed at him. "No, but you need to do something about his behavior. For the safety of everyone else around you. You've got power over him, you can control stuff like this!"

Harry looked a little bit scandalized. "That hardly seems fair to Draco. After all, I'm his boyfriend, not his master. Besides, I don't know why you two seem to think he's so dangerous. I think he's cute."

Ron nearly choked on his pumpkin juice in shock, and Hermione looked outraged. Harry, meanwhile, went back to gazing at the Slytherin table. His gaze turned into a frown when he noticed Snape leaning over to talk to Draco. Draco's face paled slightly, and then without question he followed the professor out of the Great Hall.

Harry furrowed his brow, wondering what was up. At that moment, Professor McGonagall approached the trio.

"Mr. Potter," she said in a voice that didn't quite mask her worry. "The Headmaster needs to see you in his office immediately."

"Is everything okay, Professor?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"That remains to be seen," Professor McGonagall said, motioning for him to come with her. Harry met the concerned eyes of his two best friends, silently promising to explain everything to them later, then dutifully followed his Head of House to Professor Dumbledore's office.

''''''''''''''''''''''''

Harry walked into Professor Dumbledore's office with the feeling of trepidation. He had no idea what to expect, but chances were if it involved him and Draco, it probably wasn't good.

Draco was already seated in one of the cozy chairs of Dumbledore's office, and his big, worried grey eyes met Harry's anxious green ones. Harry quickly turned to face Dumbledore.

"Professor Dumbledore, why are we - "

Harry never got to finish that sentence, because at that moment the door burst open and Lucius Malfoy stomped into Dumbledore's office.

"Albus, this is an outrage!" he yelled, flinging his cloak and his bad-ass pimp cane into a chair by the door. "I demand that these charges against Draco be dropped immediately!"

"Charges? What charges?" Draco asked fearfully, standing up out of his chair.

"Everyone, please sit down," Dumbledore said, looking uncharacteristically grave. The two Malfoys and Harry took their seats. Dumbledore sighed, and for once cut straight to the point.

"Mr. Malfoy," he said seriously, addressing Draco, "It would appear that Ernie MacMillian's parents have pressed charges against you for using an Unforgivable Curse against their son."

Draco and Harry's eyes both went wide. "But he was using it in my defense!" Harry cried, horrified by this development. "Surely that gives him immunity!"

"That's right," Lucius said coldly, grey eyes glinting with anger. "My son was rescuing the Boy Who Lived. No jury in the wizarding world will convict him for this. It's utter madness for the MacMillians to have pressed charges in the first place."

Dumbledore sighed again. "It's more complicated than that, and you know it, Lucius." He focused on Draco. "Draco, the MacMillians, while acknowledging that it appears that you were acting in Mr. Potter's defense, are convinced that you are a Death Eater in disguise, and that you were most likely involved in the set-up of their son and Mr. Potter in the first place."

"WHAT?" Draco screeched, standing up out of his chair. "I would never hurt Harry, never! How dare they - "

Dumbledore held up his hand. "I know, Mr. Malfoy, I know. But their case is strong. Understand that a jury will be hard-pressed to believe you capable of casting the Crutiatus curse on two wizards simultaneously without prior training. They base their case on this, that you must be a Death Eater in training since you are able to cast Unforgivable Curses."

Draco paled considerably and sat back down. Harry chewed on his bottom lip nervously. Lucius stood up and began pacing.

"Draco, how did you manage to cast that curse? I never taught you to do it," Lucius said, and then glared at Dumbledore and Harry. "And for the record, I never said that," he said menacingly.

Dumbledore and Harry nodded, then Harry ventured a thought. "Look, it's not that hard to cast the Crutiatus really. You just have to be really, really, unbelievably angry for it to work," he said thoughtfully.

At the look on Dumbledore, Draco, and Lucius' faces his eyes widened. "Or so I've been told," he added hastily.

"Nevertheless," Dumbledore said regretfully, "given your past rivalry with Mr. Malfoy a jury will find it hard to believe that he was angry enough on your behalf to cast the Crutiatus curse. These are serious charges, and a guilty conviction will carry with it a lifetime sentence in Azkaban."

"NO!" Harry shouted out, horrified at the prospect. He turned to Draco. "Draco, we have to tell them."

"But Harry - " Draco began, looking like he was still wavering on the issue.

Harry glared at him. "I am not going to let you go to Azkaban for life," he said angrily. "Tell them. NOW."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair expectantly. Lucius, who had been following this little exchange curiously, watched in astonishment as his son glared heavily at Harry but opened his mouth any way.

"Fine," Draco spat, and then turned to Dumbledore and Lucius.

"Guess what, Daddy?" he said, his voice dripping sarcasm. "We're not really purebloods. You, me, Mum - we're all actually part veela. Isn't that swell?"

Utter silence met these words, followed by a loud THUMP.

Lucius Malfoy had fainted.

''''''''''''''''''''

After Lucius finally came around, and Draco had explained things to him at least three times, an uncomfortable silence filled the room.

Finally, Lucius broke it. "So I'm a quarter veela?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, Dad."

"And your mother's got some veela in her too?"

"Yes, Dad."

"So you've got active veela powers?"

"Yes, Dad."

"And you're in love with Harry Potter?"

"Yes, Dad."

"I see." Lucius appeared to be thinking things over.

Dumbledore was actually smiling. "Well, this is wonderful news!" he said happily, the twinkle restored in his eyes.

The other three occupants of the room looked at him like he was mad. Dumbledore beamed sagely at them.

"All the charges will be dropped now," he explained. "You can't possibly fault a veela in that situation for defending its mate. It explains everything."

"Oh yes, everything is explained," Lucius said in an undertone. "Except the part where I've got a gay veela for a son."

"HEY!" said Draco indignantly.

"Oh sorry, Draco. I forgot the part where my gay veela son is in love with the brat who landed me in prison and stole my House Elf."

"Dad, really," Draco said irritably. "You're such a drama queen. And you wonder why I'm gay."

Harry made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a repressed snort of laughter.

Lucius was not impressed. "Fine, well, now that we've cleared all this up," he said in a haughty tone of voice that was just like his son's. "I'll just be off. The Dark Lord is going to want to hear about this before it's splashed all over the papers. And I'll contact our Law Wizard, Draco, and get these charges dropped."

He turned to Harry menacingly. "And you, Potter," he said in a scary, evil voice. "You be good to my gay veela son, or I'll come after you and everyone you care about and shred them into tiny, bloody pieces."

"Aw, I haven't had a death threat from you in so long," Harry sighed dramatically. "It's just like old times, eh, Lucius?"

Lucius muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "teenagers."

'''''''''''''''''''

After the discussion in Dumbledore's office, Harry and Draco didn't get a chance to talk again all day. After dinner, Harry sought the blonde out in his room behind the dragon portrait, speaking the password and slipping inside quietly.

"Hey," he smiled at the Slytherin, who was sitting at his desk doing homework. Draco stuck his nose up in the air.

"I'm not talking to you," he said in an injured tone of voice that was just a little too dramatic to be believable.

"Oh?" said Harry, shutting the door behind him and walking over to the desk. "Why not?" he asked playfully, coming to stand behind Draco, who swiveled around in his chair to face Harry.

"You ordered me around again!" Draco said indignantly. "In front of my dad and Dumbledore! You made me tell them I'm a veela with your blasted power of control over me. You abused your powers, and that's why I'm not talking to you," he finished with a haughty sniff, turning away from Harry again.

Harry fought back a smile. "Aw, you don't like it when I tell you what to do?" he cooed, leaning down to speak into Draco's ear.

Draco immediately felt heat run through his body at Harry's close proximity. Oh no you don't, Draco, he thought to himself. You're not giving in to Harry, even if he is cute and sweet and sexy and - fuck.

Harry had just dropped into Draco's lap and wrapped his arms around the blonde's neck.

"Kiss me, Draco," Harry commanded gently, and Draco eagerly tilted his head back so Harry could lean down and kiss him. They snogged for a moment before Harry drew back.

"You didn't seem to mind my command so much that time," he said innocently, and Draco's mouth fell open in outrage.

"Why you - just for that, I'm going to use my veela powers tonight to ravage you senseless. You should be very afraid."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm shaking in my boots," he said, kissing Draco's temple. He lifted a hand and began to play with Draco's hair.

"Hmph," was all Draco said back, even as he melted under Harry's touch. After a couple of moments, he was practically purring.

"You really like this, don't you?" Harry asked, letting his fingernails gently rake against Draco's scalp.

"Mm-hmm," said Draco, closing his eyes in bliss.

"I wonder if it's because veela hair is magical," Harry said softly, almost to himself.

Draco opened his eyes. "It is?" he asked, and Harry nodded.

"You can make wands from it," he explained.

Draco looked impressed. "Cool."

They cuddled together for a few more minutes before Harry reluctantly stood up.

"So, I guess I should go back to my dorm," he said, sounding rather unenthusiastic.

Draco was put out and annoyed. "Now see here, Potter," he said imperiously. "I don't see why on earth you should go back to Gryffindor tower. I don't really like the idea of you staying in the same tower with that Brown girl after what happened today anyway. Plus you could have gotten sick from being out in the rain last night so you're really better off sleeping with me again because I'll keep you warmer and - "

Harry cut him off with a kiss.

"Thought you'd never ask," he said happily

13  The Plot Thickens

Far away from Hogwarts, where Harry and Draco lay peacefully sleeping, Lucius Malfoy was walking through Riddle Manor, absolutely dreading the conversation to come.

It wasn't like he wanted to tell the Dark Lord about his and Draco's veela heritage. Quite the contrary. He had no choice, however. In order to get the charges against Draco dropped, the MacMillians and their lawyers had to be told the truth about Draco's heritage. Lucius wasn't such a fool to believe that juicy gossip like that would stay hidden for very long.

And so it was inevitable that the Malfoys would be "outed," so to speak, about their veela genes to the wizarding world. Lucius knew that the Dark Lord would be very upset if he were to find out the truth from the Daily Prophet, so he took a deep breath and crossed the threshold into the room where Voldemort was waiting.

Lord Voldemort was seated in an armchair in front of a fireplace, Nagini curled up at his feet. She merely looked up when Lucius entered the room before dropping her head back down to its coils. Lucius was the only one of Voldemort's Death Eaters that Nagini never hissed at, and now Lucius had a pretty good idea of why that was.

Lucius dropped down to one knee onto the dusty rug on the floor. "My Lord," he said humbly, and the Dark Lord gave him an almost fond look.

"Rise, Malfoy," he said, and patiently watched as Lucius stood up. "What news could have possibly brought you here in such an urgent manner?"

"My Lord, I have received some interesting information concerning myself and my family."

"Is that so?" Voldemort remarked with curiosity. "Sit and tell me about it." He gestured to the armchair across from his own by the fireplace, and with a feeling of trepidation, Lucius sat down, took a deep breath, and explained the entire story to Lord Voldemort.

After finishing, he looked up nervously, wondering how the Dark Lord would react to learning that one of his right hand men was not the pureblood he had believed.

Voldemort said nothing for a few moments, but instead stood up and wandered over to the window to look out at the night sky. Lucius watched and waited.

"I've always been rather fond of veela," the Dark Lord finally said softly, his eyes burning red in the darkness.

"I'm sorry?" Lucius said anxiously, not sure if this was good or not.

Lord Voldemort looked back at him and stared for a moment, as if seeing him in a whole new light.

"Of course," he said, almost to himself, scrutinizing Lucius. "That would explain so much."

"My Lord?" Lucius asked, starting to feel slightly nervous. The Dark Lord had studied him at length, had looked at him closely before, but never as intensely as he was right now.

"Tell me, Lucius," Voldemort said, moving back towards the fire and Lucius' chair. For some reason, Lucius didn't like his tone of voice. "What do you know about veela?"

Lucius took a deep breath as Lord Voldemort approached him and continued to stare, an almost hungry look beginning to form on his face. "They…they're considered by some to be very beautiful," he said haltingly, and the Dark Lord nodded.

"And what else?"

Lucius wondered where this conversation was going, but continued. "Well, they have special powers, my Lord. Powers of lust and attraction."

"Indeed." The Dark Lord stopped in front of him and studied him. "You know, Lucius, that you've always been my favorite servant."

"Thank you, My Lord," Lucius said, trying to hide his surprise.

Voldemort red eyes stared him down. "You are surprised to hear that, are you not?"

Lucius knew better than to try to lie. "Yes, sir."

"Hmmm." Voldemort sat down in the armchair across from Lucius. "Yes, you may well be surprised. You are not my most loyal, my most devoted, or my most talented servant. And yet, there has always been something about you, some quality that I have desired and prized above others…" he trailed off, still staring.

"I should have noticed it before," he observed casually. "Your hair, your eyes, your skin…you look like a veela, Lucius, and you radiate their power so faintly I hadn't noticed it before. But it is there, and now I can feel it."

He smiled, and it was not a nice smile. "And you say your son has the full powers of the veela?"

"Yes, My Lord," Lucius replied, not liking the fact that Draco was getting brought back into this.

Lord Voldemort nodded slowly. "It is so very rare, you know," he said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. "A male, being born with the powers of a veela. Draco is quite a unique and extraordinary gift."

"I've always thought so, My Lord," Lucius said with a calm he did not possess inside.

"It's a shame he is unwilling to be my servant. Such a beautiful boy, and with such powers. If he were mine…" the Dark Lord trailed off, and Lucius was suddenly hit with a sudden horrible realization of what Voldemort might be getting at.

"My Lord? What are you trying to say?" he asked, trying to keep his temper under control.

Voldemort ignored him. "The ancient wizards used to keep veela as concubines, you know," he said almost pleasantly as Lucius' worst suspicions were confirmed. "Without their mates they go mad, and are easily manipulated under the Imperious curse."

"You…you aren't seriously suggesting," Lucius began, his blood beginning to boil.

Voldemort smiled his evil smile again, and moved to the edge of his seat, very close to Lucius. Lucius moved to stand up, but ropes suddenly sprung from the arms of the chair and bound him in place. Nagini hissed in surprise and slithered a short distance away.

Lucius began to struggle, and Voldemort leaned forward, his face only inches from Lucius'.

"I'm merely observing," he began, his voice nearly a purr, "that Draco would make the most perfect fuck-toy a dark wizard could ever ask for."

Lucius snarled in outrage, but Voldemort continued. "A veela is not like a wizard, Malfoy, and sex with a veela is not like sex with any other being on this earth. Their powers of attraction, if used correctly, are valuable beyond belief."

"You…you wretched, foul, loathsome…" Lucius was shaking with blind fury and rage, restrained as he was in the chair.

Voldemort sighed. "Tsk, tsk, Lucius," he chided. "If you weren't so pretty, I would have to punish you for those words."

"I won't let you do this," Lucius Malfoy said furiously, all caution thrown to the wind. "This is my son we are talking about!"

The Dark Lord stood up, towering over Lucius.

"I do so prefer men to women," he said, almost conversationally. "And it must be centuries since a true male veela was born, with true veela powers. I shall so look forward to having Draco as a guest. Tell me; is he as striking as ever?" Voldemort finished with a leer, and Lucius lunged forward against the ropes with a cry of rage, pure hatred on his face.

Voldemort watched him struggle and smiled. "So beautiful," he said softly, reaching down and trailing his finger down Lucius' rage-contorted face. "If I didn't know you had a son, Malfoy, I'd take you. You are stunning, and I could work to bring out the weak veela traits you do possess. But Draco is the real prize, and I can wait. If he looks half as erotic tied up and struggling as you do, it will be worth it."

"I'll kill you," Lucius snarled. "Do you hear me? I'll kill you before I let you touch my son!"

The Dark Lord shook his head and sighed. "Oh Lucius, Lucius, Lucius," he said, condescendingly. "You won't kill me, because you won't remember one word of this conversation."

He pulled out his wand, and horror and panic hit Lucius like a tangible wave.

"I'm sorry I have to do this, Lucius, but I want Draco, and you might do something foolish like try to stop me. And I really can't have that." He pointed the wand directly at Lucius' head.

"Obliviate!"

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

By the end of the week, not a soul in the Hogwarts castle didn't know that Draco was a veela, and that Harry was his mate, and that you didn't go within ten feet of Harry Potter unless you wanted your arse hexed to hell and back.

A front page headline in the Daily Prophet and a gushing article in Witch Weekly had detailed the entire story - the truth about the Malfoy and Black bloodlines, the attack on the Boy-Who-Lived and Draco's daring rescue, and the against-all-odds romance of Draco and Harry, part veela and mate.

Naturally, curious students had approached Harry to see if it was all true. That's how everyone found out it wasn't safe to get too close to Harry if Draco suspected your intentions weren't pure. In those first few days alone he sent five Hufflepuffs, three Ravenclaws, seven Slytherins and half of the sixth-year Gryffindors to the hospital wing for various hexes and injuries.

Ron and Hermione were at their wits ends. They had tried talking to Harry about Draco's behavior, but Harry would just shrug.

"It's just a veela thing," he would say, as if that explained everything, and then he and Draco would go off and snog.

Ron and Hermione were a bit pissed off, to say the least.

And that's why, during lunch on that cool and sunny Friday, Ron could be found sitting at the Gryffindor table, sulking for all he was worth.

"I don't see what on earth Harry sees in that stupid ferret," Ron was muttering to Hermione, who was patting his arm sympathetically while reading one of the many new books on veela that Lucius Malfoy had sent Draco. Draco was currently standing by the door of the Great Hall, obviously waiting for Harry to come in from his last class.

"Harry likes Draco because he's never had some one care about him before," Hermione tried to explain for what must have been the one-millionth time.

"I care about him," Ron muttered mutinously, then turned a bit red. "But…you know…not like that…oh God, don't tell Malfoy I said I care about Harry, he kill me," he said so hastily that Hermione had to fight back a laugh.

"I won't tell him," she reassured Ron, who looked visibly relieved. He went back to staring irritably at the blonde by the door.

"That veela's completely unsafe, you know," Ron complained, sounding very annoyed. "Bloody dangerous, actually. And Harry's acting just like Hagrid with all his monsters. He's always saying things like oh Draco's not actually dangerous, he just gets a little jealous or Draco didn't really mean it, it's just a veela thing. You know, yesterday I tried to tell him that he really, really should stop Malfoy from hexing everybody, and he chewed me out for being insensitive to Draco's veela needs!"

They watched for another moment, before Ron made a noise of disgust. "He only likes Malfoy because he's a veela anyway."

Hermione sighed. "That's not true, Ron. Draco's veela charms do help, it's true, and I'm sure there's some magic attracting them to each other on a subconscious level. But even if Draco didn't have all his veela charms, Harry would still be crazy about him, because Draco is so sweet and loving towards Harry and Harry's never had that before. Do you understand?"

Ron crossed his arms. "No."

"Okay, well, now you're just being difficult," Hermione said crossly.

They watched as Harry walked into the Great Hall, and Draco's entire being lit up before he practically knocked Harry off his feet in a bear hug in front of everyone. Ron and Hermione could see the smile on Harry's face from their seats at the Gryffindor table.

"Bloody hell," sighed Ron.

'''''''''''''''

Harry had been wandering down the Charms corridor on his way to lunch when he heard a voice calling his name.

"Harry…psst…Harry!"

He turned to see who it was, and saw none other than his ex-girlfriend, Cho Chang, waiting to talk to him.

"Hey Cho, what's up?" he said as nicely as he could to his ex.

"Be quiet!" she hissed, looking around fearfully. "Is Malfoy with you?"

Harry shook his head. "He's waiting for me in the Great Hall."

Cho motioned to him to follow her into an empty classroom. He did, and she shut the door firmly behind them.

"What was all that all about?" Harry asked.

Cho gave him a rather dirty look. "I didn't want to get hexed," she said shortly.

Harry just shrugged. If she was waiting for an apology from him about Draco's behavior, she wasn't going to get it.

"Look, Harry," Cho began, "I need to talk to you."

"About what?"

"About Malfoy, actually." She looked at Harry very seriously. "Do you understand what you're getting into?"

Harry was indignant. "Um, yeah," he said curtly. "But I don't understand how it's any business of yours."

"Just…hear me out, okay? I know things weren't always easy between us and we didn't end on the best terms. But I still care about you as a person and a friend, I do. That's why I want to warn you."

Harry sighed. Why did everyone always want to warn him about Draco? "What is it?" he said wearily, waiting to hear the inevitable he's dangerous, he's unsafe, he may be pretty but he's a menace to everyone in the castle, blah blah blah.

But Cho completely surprised him. "Veela very rarely choose wizards for their mates. Did you know that?"

Harry thought for a moment. He truthfully didn't. "No," he said cautiously.

"Do you know why that is?"

"Obviously not, if I didn't even know that was the case in the first place," Harry said, trying very hard to be polite and not roll his eyes.

"Veela and wizards are different, Harry. Wizards are humans who have magical powers. Veelas aren't human, they're highly magical creatures. That's why they can shape shift and spellbind wizards to lust after them. When veela mate with other veela, they're very attracted to the amount of magic in the other. Strong magic is almost irresistible to a veela."

"Okay…" Harry couldn't help but wonder why on earth Cho was getting at. "So, what does this have to do with me and Draco?"

Cho sighed with frustration. "Don't you get it? Veela are attracted to powerful magic, therefore they're only attracted to wizards with very strong magical abilities, and therefore it's rare for them to mate with wizards. But it's the reason why Malfoy is attracted to you."

"Cho, there are about a million things wrong with what you just said," Harry protested. "First off, Draco's only part veela - "

"Yeah, but he's got their magical powers and he's got their desire to mate. Not all part veela have that, you know."

"Okay, fine. Whatever," Harry continued. "But still, Draco is not attracted to me for my magical abilities. My magic's not any stronger than anybody else's."

Cho just gave him a disbelieving look.

"What?" Harry finally said irritably.

"You don't honestly believe that, do you Harry? You've stood up to You-Know-Who over and over. Don't tell me you think your magic powers are the same as everyone else's."

"Cho, I don't think - "

"Whatever, Harry. You want to stay in denial that's your choice. In the meantime, there's a more important issue I want to warn you about."

"Really." Harry raised his arms in a gesture of submission. "As bizarre as I'm finding it that you want to warn me about Draco, go ahead. What is it?"

"Well, first off I just want to ask - you're still a virgin, right?"

Harry went beet red and his mouth dropped open in shock. In a desperate attempt to salvage his manly pride in front of his ex-girlfriend, he tried to deny it. "What would ever make you think that just because we didn't do it that I haven't - "

"Harry, please. I know you haven't. It's pretty obvious."

"Yeah, well…I could have done it if I had wanted to," Harry muttered sulkily.

Cho looked amused. "There's nothing wrong with being sweet and innocent. Its part of your charm. I just know you don't have a lot of experience and I think you should know a little more about veelas and sex."

Harry was trying in vain to bring his cheeks back to their normal color. "Look, Cho, I appreciate the sentiment." He paused. "I think. But before we keep talking I want to know why on earth you feel the need to tell me all this. Not to mention, I'm rather curious as to why the bloody hell do you know anything about veelas and sex."

Cho seemed faintly embarrassed, but she explained herself. "When Fleur and Cedric were both School Champions during the Tri-Wizard tournament, I did a little research. Well…okay, a lot of research. I wanted to be sure that she wasn't going to use her veela powers to steal away my boyfriend."

"Oh."

A very awkward moment passed.

"Okay, look Harry, I'll keep this really short for you and then I'll leave you alone. I just thought you should know that veela are crazy for sex."

"What?"

"They're completely mad for it. And they'll stop at nothing to get it."

Harry attempted to laugh it off. "Cho, I don't think you really know what - "

"Harry, listen," she said urgently. "You have to understand that veela are not human. Their emotions aren't the same as ours. They don't feel love the way humans do. For veela, love is all about sex, and Malfoy is going to want sex from you soon. Not only that, if you don't give it to him, he'll force you."

By this point, Harry was redder than ever and sputtering. "Cho, that's ridiculous, Draco would never hurt me. He won't force me to - "

"Oh, he won't use physical force, Harry. He'll use his veela powers on you. He'll spellbind you so that you don't know what you're doing so that he can have sex with you."

"He wouldn't." But Harry's protest wasn't as strong as it maybe could have been, as a little incident in the corridor earlier in the week replayed itself in his mind.

"He's already tried it on you, hasn't he?" Cho said knowingly, and Harry refused to look her in the eyes.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked again, his voice tense.

Cho hesitated. "I don't know," she confessed, her voice wavering slightly. "I guess…I guess I just don't want to see you get hurt again."

She paused. "There's nothing wrong with you, Harry. The thing is, veela just don't really understand love, they understand sex. The whole "mate" concept is really just about sex. Malfoy can't really love you, but he'll always lust after you, and if that's good enough for you that's your decision."

Cho paused again, and tentatively reached out to touch Harry before thinking better of it and stopping, her hand half-way to Harry's face. "I just thought you should know, that's all," she said quietly, dropping her arm. "In case you ever decide you want more than just sex."

And with that she suddenly kissed him on the cheek and abruptly left the classroom.

''''''''''''''''

Harry made his way down to the Great Hall, slightly shaken by everything Cho had said. It wasn't true. It couldn't be. Draco wasn't just attracted to him because he had powerful magical abilities. And besides that, Draco was truly in love with him, and it wasn't just about sex, it wasn't. Harry just couldn't believe that everything that had happened between him and Draco over the past few days had just been veela hormones. They had something special.

And what on earth had Cho meant by in case you ever decide you want more than just sex? Harry was very confused.

Lost in his thoughts as he walked into the Great Hall, Harry was caught off guard when Draco barreled into him.

"Where have you been? I've been waiting for you!" the blonde scolded, even as he threw his arms around Harry in a huge hug.

Harry broke into a big smile. Cho was wrong. This wasn't sex, this was love.

"Nowhere important," he said, as he and Draco made their way over to the Gryffindor table where Ron and Hermione were sitting. They sat down, both too wrapped up in each other to notice the irritated looks that both Ron and Hermione were giving them.

"So, how many people have you hexed today, Malfoy?" Ron asked curtly, purposefully interrupting them as Draco started nuzzling Harry's cheek.

"Really, Ron, I'm sure Draco hasn't hexed anyone else since breakfast," Harry said, tossing his best friend an annoyed glance. "Right, Draco?"

Draco suddenly became very interested in his manicure.

"HA! I told you so," Ron said triumphantly.

Draco sneered at him.

"If you must know, Weasley, it's only been two," he said haughtily. "A pair of Hufflepuff fourth-years thought it would be cute to talk about how it was no wonder I chose Harry for a mate because he's so good-looking. And right in the charms corridor where everyone could hear them. It was their own fault."

"Oh honestly, Malfoy, I can't believe you're getting away with bullying the other students like this," Hermione said, looking slightly outraged. She turned to Harry. "And I suppose you're not going to do a thing about it?"

"Course not. Not his fault he gets jealous is it?" he said, stroking a hand through Draco's hair. Draco happily leaned into his touch.

"Harry, when Malfoy tells you what he's done do you actually hear what he says? Or are you so infatuated that you only see is his pretty little face?" Ron said, looking slightly disgusted by their actions.

Draco glared at him hotly, but softened as Harry wrapped a protective arm around him.

"Ron, Draco is a veela," Harry said, defending the now smug-looking Draco. "He can't help it. You should be more understanding, you know. It's not easy for him to be jealous all the time."

"I don't believe this," Ron said, under his breath, as Draco's look got, if it were possible, even smugger.

"Aww, Weasley, you're not really mad at me, are you?" Draco cooed, and Ron's look suddenly became rather distant, and his face seemed oddly slack.

"Of course I'm not mad at you, Draco," he said hastily, eyes fixed on Draco. "I could never get mad at you. You're so beautiful, and gorgeous, and wonderful. I would do anything for you."

"Would you?" Draco said conversationally, as Harry began to snicker under his breath and Hermione narrowed her eyes at Draco.

"Oh yes," Ron said eagerly. "I'd jump off a cliff, battle a dragon, slay a vampire - "

"Seduce a House Elf?" Draco asked innocently.

"Of course. Anything you want," Ron continued in a dreamy voice. Harry choked back laughter while Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Malfoy, that's enough," she said sharply, elbowing Ron hard at the same time. Draco assumed a long-suffering look as Ron's eyes came back into focus, and after a moment of confusion narrowed angrily.

"Malfoy, you evil little ferret," he began.

Harry gave him a reproachful look. "Ron, don't call him that."

"But Harry - "

"You heard him, Weasel," Draco said in the brattiest "Harry likes me best" voice he could manage.

Ron was fuming. Hermione folded her arms over her chest and gave Harry a look.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Harry James Potter, are you really going to let Malfoy get away with all of this?"

Harry sighed dramatically. "Alright, alright." He turned to Draco.

"Bad veela!" he scolded, shaking his finger at Draco. "Bad veela, no biscuit!"

That irritated Hermione even more. "Harry, don't joke about this!" she snapped. "You're supposed to control his behavior! It's your job, you're his mate, you can't just - "

Harry wasn't listening to a word she said, because Draco had just leaned forward and taken his scolding finger in between his teeth and was now gently sucking it into his mouth.

Draco carefully swirled his tongue around the finger, watched as Harry's pupils dilated and then slowly released him.

"Want to get out of here so you can punish me properly?" he asked, in a sexy, sultry, purr.

All Harry could do was nod. Hermione narrowed her eyes at them as they quickly pushed back from the table and stood up.

It was really amazing that after six years Harry still hadn't learned not to mess with Hermione.

Just as they started to walk away, Hermione called out, "Oh Harry!"

Harry turned around. "What?" he asked tersely, in a voice that clearly said make it fast, I'm busy here!

Hermione smiled very angelically at him and made sure Draco was listening too. "You've got lipstick on your cheek."

Harry's hand flew to his cheek in horror, Draco's eyes narrowed to slits, and Hermione watched in satisfaction as Draco grabbed Harry's arm and yanked him out of the Great Hall, looking thoroughly jealous and pissed off.

Ron watched them go, and looked at Hermione in awe and respect. "I think I love you," he said, and they both smiled.

14  Fight

Draco dragged Harry into a corridor just off the main one that led to the Great Hall. He pushed Harry up against the wall - not particularly gently either - and said in one short, terse breath "Explain."

Harry had the distinct impression that if he had had a father, and his mother had ever said the words "just wait until your father gets home!" and then his dad had come home and cornered him, that this was more or less exactly the same feeling.

He took a deep breath, "Well, Draco, see, it's like this…" he trailed off, reluctant to reveal that it was Cho who had kissed his cheek and subject her to the rages of a jealous veela. After all, she had only been trying to help.

Draco folded his arms over his chest and glared at Harry. "No, Potter," he said icily. "Actually, I don't see. Why don't you start by telling me which filthy slut left that lipstick on your cheek?"

"I say, that's a bit harsh," Harry protested, and suddenly he found himself with Draco on top of him.

"Are you defending this mystery woman, Potter?" Draco breathed into Harry's ear, silver eyes glinting menacingly, and for one fleeting instance Harry understood why everyone else was so afraid of Draco.

But the understanding was gone as soon as it came, because Harry trusted in his heart that Draco would never hurt him, and that Draco's threats were only words and nothing more, and that the blonde only got madly upset and jealous because he was so afraid of losing Harry.

"No, I'm not defending her," he said calmly, reaching out to run a hand through Draco's silky blonde locks. Draco closed his eyes, torn between his anger and the melting sensation that came with having Harry's fingers tangled in his hair.

Harry saw this, and smiled. He's so sweet, Harry thought to himself, as Draco grudgingly began to give in to Harry's caresses. He rested his head on Harry's shoulder and Harry kissed it, delighting in the sensation of the cool downy hair against his lips.

Draco sighed and nuzzled Harry's neck, his arms going around Harry's waist. He lifted his head up to kiss the brunette -

And saw that faint pink mark on Harry's cheek again.

Faster than you could saw "Hungarian Horntail" Draco's eyes narrowed back to slits. He grabbed Harry's wrists to stop their petting motion and in one alarmingly agile movement pinned those wrists on either side of Harry's body.

"Who was she, Potter?" Draco practically growled, and Harry bit his lip. "Who was she?" he repeated insistently, and Harry took a deep breath.

"I can't tell you," he whispered, and Draco moved in closer to pin Harry's body to the wall with his own.

"You can't tell me?" he repeated. "And why not, Harry?"

"Because you'll hurt her, Draco, and she was just trying to help me," Harry breathed, still trusting the angry veela not to cross the line and hurt his mate.

Draco's expression became absolutely livid. "Help you? By kissing you? How does that help you do anything, Potter?"

"Draco, please," Harry pleaded, locking the veela's silver eyes with his own bright green ones. "I can't tell you."

Draco stayed perfectly still for a moment. "You mean you won't tell me. Fine. I'll find out some other way. In the meantime," he lowered his voice dangerously, "I think that you ought to be taught what it means to be a veela's mate."

In a swift, graceful movement, Draco let go of Harry's wrists and snaked his arms around Harry's waist, crushing Harry against his own body forcefully before locking onto his lips with his own. Harry froze at the sudden onslaught, his arms hanging at his sides for a moment in shock.

And then Draco did something that Harry hadn't been expecting - he let go of any personal restraints he had had, and turned on his veela powers as strong as he possibly could.

In an instant, Harry's body was on fire, and he moaned into Draco's mouth. Every nerve and every inch of skin on Harry's body was alive with sensation. It was the most amazing feeling that Harry had ever felt, his senses singing with fervor as Draco continued to ravish his mouth. Harry lost all sense of who he was and where he was, and the only thing that mattered now was that he never stop kissing Draco's soft pink lips, and he never stop touching the body on top of his own. He clutched at Draco, pulling him tightly against his body, grinding their hips together as jolts of pleasure coursed through his system.

And then suddenly Draco stopped and pulled back from Harry, who moaned in grief at the loss of contact. He whispered harshly, "Next time some little slut goes to kiss you, Potter, just remember - you are mine."

And abruptly turned and walked down the corridor, purposefully not looking back.

If he had looked back, he would have seen Harry slide down the wall of the corridor and bury his head in his arms, his body trembling uncontrollably.

''''''''''''''''''

Hermione was a little concerned when Harry didn't show up for Transfigurations after lunch. Her concern rose when he skipped his favorite class, Defense Against the Dark Arts as well. Finally, when he didn't show up for Care of Magical Creatures, and Hagrid asked her what was wrong, she begged out of the last half of class to go look for Harry.

She found him in the first place she looked - up in his room in Gryffindor tower, lying on his back on his bed, wizard robe off and tie crooked, staring unfocusedly at his hangings.

"Harry?" she said tentatively, walking into the room and over to his bed.

"Hullo, Hermione," he said in a monotone, not bothering to look over.

"You weren't in class this afternoon, Harry," she said gently, and Harry just shrugged. Hermione sat down on the bed at his feet. "Is everything okay?"

An uncomfortable pang of guilt hit her stomach as she recalled the "lipstick" incident at lunch, and she hastily asked, "Did something happen between you and Draco?"

Harry finally turned to look at her and smiled humorlessly. "Sort of."

Hermione opened her mouth to apologize, and Harry shook his head. "It's not your fault, Hermione," he said, before she could say a word. "I was being a total prat at lunch to you and Ron, and I deserved it, so don't apologize."

"Okay," she said hesitatingly, leaning back against a bed post. "So what happened between you and Draco then? Was he really mad about the lipstick?"

Harry nodded slowly. "You could say that."

"Did he kill whoever it was? And who was it, anyway?" she asked, and Harry sighed.

"I didn't tell him who it was." Hermione's eyes got wide. "And I'm not going to tell you either."

"But Harry," Hermione started, stunned. "This is a really big deal. Draco's a veela, he must be freaking out right - "

"I know he's a veela, Hermione!" Harry growled. "He made sure to remind me of it."

"What does that mean?" Harry sighed again.

"Nothing," he said dismissively. Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"Did he hurt you, Harry? Because if he did, veela or no, I swear to God I'll -

Harry smiled a real smile for the first time since lunch at Hermione's protectiveness. "No, he didn't. Draco would never physically hurt me, don't worry."

Harry's use of the term 'physically' didn't escape Hermione's notice.

"What did he do, Harry?" she asked softly, resting her hand on Harry's ankle.

Harry didn't say anything for a moment. Then he looked at her seriously. "Is it possible for me to learn to control Draco by choice, and not just in a life or death situation?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows at the question, but answered him anyway. "Yes, actually, it is. It isn't easy, and you'll probably have to practice, and if I know Malfoy he won't like it at all, but yes, you can learn how to do it." She reached into her bag and brought out the book she had been reading at lunch. "There's advice on that and a bunch of other stuff in here. It's a really good book, Harry. You should read it."

He took the copy of Everything a Veela's Mate Should Know from her and slid it under his pillow. "Thanks, Hermione."

They heard the bell that ended classes ring, and Harry sat up and straightened his glasses. "I've got Occlumency with Snape right now," he said with a sigh, and Hermione looked at him worriedly.

"Harry - " she began, but at that moment Ron bounded up into the room.

"Harry, where have you been all afternoon? Did Malfoy do something really wicked to you for having lipstick on your cheek?" the redhead asked almost eagerly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "No," he said, "he didn't. Listen Ron, um…about lunch time," Harry began almost sheepishly.

"You going to apologize for letting Malfoy veela charm me and then call me Weasel?" Ron asked expectantly, and Harry nodded.

"Sorry," he said, and Ron waved it off.

"Yeah, just don't let him do it again, alright? He's been acting like a real brat and its bloody annoying when you don't do anything about it."

"Deal," Harry acquiesced, sliding off the bed. He stood up and put his robe back on before saying goodbye to his two best friends and leaving for his Occlumency lessons.

"Hey Captain, don't forget about Quidditch practice tonight!" Ron called after him, and Harry waved to let him know him had heard.

As soon as Harry left, Ron turned back to Hermione. "So what did Malfoy do to him about the lipstick?"

"I don't know. Harry says nothing, but I don't believe him. He wouldn't have been hiding up here in his room all afternoon over nothing." Hermione looked grim. "Something's going on, and I'm going to find out what."

''''''''''''''''''

Harry hadn't exactly wanted to resume Occlumency lessons with Snape, but after Lord Voldemort had slithered his way into Harry's mind at the end of last term, Harry had become determined to learn how to keep him out.

Draco had been fascinated by the whole concept of Occlumency, and had wanted to learn as well. Snape was willing to indulge his favorite student a bit, and allowed Draco to come for the last fifteen minutes of each class to learn.

Today was no exception. Harry had been working with Snape for three quarters of an hour before Draco pushed open the door to the Potions classroom and joined them.

"Potter, Professor Snape," the blonde said coolly. Harry felt a sudden rush of nervousness at seeing Draco again for the first time since lunch. Draco's use of his veela powers that afternoon had left Harry shaken and trembling as he realized that if Draco chose he could have Harry any way he wanted, panting and gagging for it with no ability to control his own mind or desires.

At the same time, being with Draco was unbelievable. Nothing Harry had ever felt before came close to the feeling he had had that afternoon, when Draco used his veela powers without inhibition. And now Harry was emotionally torn in so many different directions - he wanted Draco badly and his hormones were begging for him to surrender to the blonde's every whim. At the same time, he was terrified - terrified of having no control, terrified of being pushed farther then he was ready for, and most of all, terrified that Cho was right, that he would never really be anything more for Draco then his favorite sex toy.

Needless to say, Harry was a wreck, and Draco only made it worse when he turned to Snape and, without so much as glancing at Harry, asked, "Would it be alright for me to practice Leglimency on Harry tonight?"

Harry gulped. Draco wanted to use the Legilimens spell to access all the memories in Harry's head, and Harry knew exactly which memory Draco was going to be looking for: the memory of whoever had planted that kiss on his cheek that afternoon.

'''''''''''''''

As Draco turned to look at Harry, he had to physically bite his lip to restrain himself from moaning in frustration. The blonde's entire body was still on fire. It was a side effect of using the veela powers, that he was left desperately longing for Harry, even more than usual. The afternoon had been absolute torture as his mind entertained the dirtiest scenarios it possibly could starring himself and Harry.

He would never have confessed it to Harry, but waiting for him to be ready to take things to the next level was driving Draco crazy. More than once he had wondered just how angry Harry would be if he spellbound him just long enough for both of them to get off. So far he hadn't chanced it, but he was worried that if they waited much longer his veela senses would take over and then Harry wouldn't stand a chance.

But so far he had stayed strong, because he knew just how much Harry trusted him not to do anything to hurt him, whether physically or emotionally. Even now he felt guilty about what he had done at lunch - well, at least until he remembered the lipstick on Harry's cheek.

''''''''''''''''''

"Very well, Mr. Malfoy. The spell you will need to use to see into Potter's mind is Legilimens. Are you ready?"

Draco nodded, and then the Slytherin faced Harry, wand out, ready to cast the spell. Harry just concentrated on guarding his mind, keeping the memories he didn't want Draco to see hidden behind mental barriers.

"Legilimens!" Draco shouted, and Harry kept concentrating as hard as he could. He couldn't let Draco see the memory of Cho, but even more important, he couldn't let him see anything from when he was younger and living with the Dursleys. He just wasn't ready for Draco to know about his past. He wasn't sure he ever would be.

Draco watched as memories surfaced and swirled around him. First he was with Harry, Ron and Hermione in Gryffindor common room, laughing and playing wizard's chess. Then the memory shifted, and now he was flying on a Firebolt, chasing after the snitch, the golden ball only inches away from his fingers. Another shift, and he was with Harry underwater, fighting urgently with Merpeople over the floating bodies of Hermione, Cho, and Gabrielle. Then that faded and he was in a small bedroom that didn't look like Hogwart's, and three of the Weasleys were outside the window in a floating car, and were those bars on the -

"Enough!" shouted Harry, and shoved Draco out of his mind. They stood, facing each other, each breathing heavily, and the tension in the room was so high that even Snape knew better than to say a word.

"What the hell was I just looking at, Potter?" Draco finally whispered, chest heaving up and down, looking at Harry in confusion.

"Chess. Quidditch. Triwizard Tournament," Harry replied flatly. Draco narrowed his eyes.

"Not those," he said angrily. "That last memory."

"Nothing," Harry relied. "Ron, Fred and George visiting me during summer holidays."

"There were bars on your window."

"Standard muggle practice. Keeps burglars out."

Snape raised an eyebrow. Draco didn't look convinced, and opened his mouth to protest. Harry cut him off.

"I have Quidditch practice," he said shortly, and went to leave.

"Harry!" Draco called out, as the brunette reached the door. Harry reluctantly turned around. "Meet me in my room after your practice?" he asked, and Harry hesitated. "Please?" Draco added softly, and Harry gave a short nod before walking out the door.

Draco turned back to Snape. "There's something he's not telling me."

Snape looked less than impressed. "I'm sure there are a great many things Potter isn't telling you, Draco."

Draco furrowed his brow. "But why won't he tell me? He was blocking parts of his mind to me, I could feel it. What doesn't he want me to know?"

"If you are asking me to explain the workings of Mr. Potter's feeble mind, I assure that is a task well beyond my capabilities," Snape said irritably.

In a heart beat Draco's wand was pointed at Snape's chest. "Take that back," the veela snarled, his eyes narrowed and his wand steady.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Malfoy," he said, his voice the voice of a man on the very last edges of his patience. "Think very carefully on what you are doing. You are threatening a Hogwart's professor."

Draco refused to back down. "You insulted my mate. I like you and respect you very much, but I won't stand for it. Now take it back," he spat venomously.

Snape looked less than impressed. "Expelliarmus!" he said quickly, and Draco's wand flew out of his hand. Snape caught it in a deft movement, and then crossed his arms and looked at Draco pointedly. "I sincerely hope we're finished with this foolishness."

Draco smiled his most beguiling smile. "But Professor, I could never be finished with you," he said sweetly, turning on the veela charms and directing them at Professor Snape. "Why don't you just give me back my wand?" Draco cooed, moving slightly closer.

Snape's eyes seemed slightly out of focus as he smiled vapidly at Draco. "Of course, Draco. Here you are," Snape said in an oily, eager voice. He held out the wand and Draco reached for it.

Just then, Snape blinked twice, and then rapidly shook his head to clear it before yanking the wand out of Draco's grasp and glaring at him. "Nice try. Surely you didn't think that someone who has mastered the art of Occlumency would fall under your spell so easily? You are still a very young veela, Draco. Your powers are not nearly strong enough for that."

Draco was annoyed that his powers hadn't worked, but he just shrugged. "It was worth a try."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "I realize that Potter has been coddling you and treating you like a spoiled and pampered pet, allowing you to treat the rest of your peers in the most appalling of manners. Do not think for one instant that you can behave that way with me."

He handed a now offended looking Draco back his wand. "Now I would suggest you go to your room and wait for Potter. It would seem that you two have much to talk about."

Snape gestured to the door, and sulking, Draco took his leave.

'''''''''''''''''''

A couple hours later Harry could be found in front of the Antiopean Opaleye portrait, still in his Quidditch pratice clothes, knocking hesitantly.

The painting swung open and there was Draco, out of his school uniform and dressed in soft grey slacks and a fitted black sweater. He was holding a glass half-full of pink liquid in one hand.

"Hey," Draco said, stepping back, and Harry walked in. Draco's eyes followed him as he moved, skimming over the athletic pants and long-sleeved Gryffindor t-shirt that Harry had worn to practice. His eyes traveled up to Harry's body to his windswept hair, and he felt his blood begin to stir.

"Hey," Harry returned, his eyes going to Draco's glass. "What're you drinking?"

"Cosmopolitan," Draco replied. "Want one?"

"It's not a very manly looking drink, is it?" Harry said thoughtfully, and Draco rolled his eyes. "What's in it?"

"Vodka, cranberry juice, bit of lime," Draco listed. "It's my mum's favorite."

"Um, no thanks," Harry declined, not looking particularly keen on drinking alcohol around a potentially lusty veela. "Where'd you get the vodka?"

"Theodore Nott gave it to me," Draco explained, taking a sip and going back to ogling Harry.

Harry seemed aware of Draco's eyes on him, and started fidgeting nervously. When Draco shut the portrait behind them, the click of the door swinging into place made Harry jump slightly.

"Do you want to sit down?" Draco asked casually, trying to control the feelings that were beginning to well up within him. The burning lust was beginning to become awfully familiar.

Harry shook his head. "I'm all sweaty and gross from practice," he explained, looking a bit shifty. "I forgot to bring extra clothes with me, so I didn't take a shower or anything. So you…uh…probably don't want to get too close to me."

If Harry thought he was being sneaky, he had no idea who he was dealing with. Draco saw right through Harry's scheme of trying to make himself less desirable so Draco wouldn't jump him. Forgetting that it was his own behavior in the corridor at lunch time that had made Harry nervous in the first place, Draco took offense to Harry' insinuations.

"Why don't you just take one here? I can loan you some clean clothes," he offered, purposefully putting Harry in an uncomfortable position. "I'll even pick out all my biggest stuff, so you can't complain about the size thing." He left Harry no outs.

Harry squirmed a bit, then shook his head. "No, I'm okay, but thanks for the offer," he said politely.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You know, you're perfectly safe, Potter," he said casually, finishing his drink and setting the glass down on the desk. "I'm not going to jump you in the shower."

Harry bristled a bit. "I didn't think you would."

"Really." The two boys stared challengingly at each other for a moment before Draco raised his eyebrows. "So go on then. Take a shower, if you're not worried."

"Fine, then. I will," Harry said, but he sounded far from secure. "Do you have clothes for me?"

Draco nodded. "Why don't you go ahead and get in the shower and I'll bring you some," Draco suggested. He didn't miss the way Harry's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates at that.

"Oh, for God's sake, I'm just going to put them on the counter," Draco snapped, exasperated. "I'm not going to jump into the shower and rape you. I assure you I have more self control than that."

Harry didn't look convinced, so Draco challenged him a bit more.

"Are you scared of me, Potter?" he asked, his voice low and confrontational. "Worried you might have to defend your virtue from the big, bad veela?"

Draco knew if there was one thing Harry Potter refused to be, it was scared.

Harry glared at Draco for a moment. "I'm not scared of you, Malfoy," he said angrily.

Then, as if to prove it, he deliberately reached down and grabbed the hem of his shirt, and began to slowly pull it over his head. This time, it was Draco's eyes that widened.

"W-what are you doing, Harry?" he asked, his voice slightly unsteady as Harry pulled the shirt off the rest of the way and tossed it on the floor.

"I'm stripping down for my shower, Draco. Why, does that bother you?" Harry asked, his voice cold. Underneath his long-sleeved t-shirt he was wearing nothing but a tight, fitted tank top, and Draco's mind began to spin as it took in the way the tank clung to Harry's torso. Harry then reached down and began to pull at the drawstring that held up his pants.

Draco gulped nervously. "Wait…wait, Harry, are you sure you want to do that?" he asked, unable to take his eyes off Harry's hands as they worked with the knot, slowly untying the athletic pants - the big, baggy athletic pants that would surely fall off if they were no longer held up by a drawstring.

Right before the string came completely undone, Harry stopped. Draco made a noise of frustration. His eyes continued to travel up and down Harry's chest, over the broad shoulders and down the flat abs covered only by thin cotton, to the top of Harry's hip bones, exposed by his baggy pants. His eyes darted back up to Harry's glowing green eyes, to find them narrowed slightly in Draco's direction.

"I'm going to take a shower now, Draco," Harry said, the emotion in his voice unreadable. "Can I trust that I won't have to defend my virtue from the big, bad veela?"

Draco closed his eyes in frustration. This wasn't fair. He felt slightly out of control, and he was hornier than anyone should rightly be at the sight of a half-dressed man. His mind still dwelled on kissing Harry at lunch, and now the he had the sight of Harry half naked in his bedroom, still glowing from the wind and cold and exercise. There was nothing he wanted more in this moment that to shove Harry down on the bed and give him the seeing to of his life.

Instead of doing that, he narrowed his eyes back at Harry. "Don't flatter yourself, Potter," he spat, sexual frustration making his voice a little sharper than he had intended. "I promise I'm not even remotely interested in seducing you right now."

"Good," Harry said back shortly, and disappeared into the bathroom. A couple moments later Draco heard the water running, and he just stood in the middle of the room for several minutes, willing himself to get back under control.

''''''''''''''''

Harry knew, he knew, that he shouldn't have provoked Draco like that. It was like holding a piece of raw meat in front of the jaws of a werewolf. But he was angry. Draco had used his veela powers on him at lunch without Harry's consent, and left him a trembling, shaken mess in the corridor. Now he was being sarcastic to Harry, almost mocking him for being nervous around Draco Damn it, he had every reason to be nervous. He wanted to trust Draco, but when the blonde kept staring at him and licking his lips it made him worry a bit.

Harry heard the bathroom door open, and the sound of Draco moving about. Then the noise stopped. Harry waited to hear to bathroom door close so he would know Draco had left, but he didn't hear it.

He waited, and waited, and finally heard Draco leave and the door click shut behind him. Harry let out a breath he hadn't even known he was holding.

''''''''''''''''

Back in the room, Draco was laying on his bed, one arm flung over his face, his breathing heavy. He knew he had probably freaked Harry out by staying in there so long. He had meant to just lay the clothes and the counter and leave, but the realization that Harry was naked behind that thin curtain, naked and warm and wet - it had driven Draco crazy.

Even now, laying on his bed, a thick door between him and Harry, Draco knew he was on the absolute edge of his self-control. His mind was spinning, his breathing was shallow, and he could feel his restraint slipping. He felt almost drugged, and the pull towards Harry was stronger than ever.

He was very thankful to hear the water shut off, and to hear sounds of Harry moving about, obviously getting dressed. He took a deep steadying breath, commanding himself to focus on other things, on the talk he and Harry needed to have.

He heard the door open, and then Harry's voice cut through his thoughts.

"Is there a reason you didn't get me a shirt, Malfoy?" Harry's voice was not amused, and Draco realized he had, indeed, forgotten to get Harry a shirt. He sat up on the bed, and turned to Harry, apology on the tip of his tongue -

And promptly forgot anything and everything other than the vision in front of him: Harry, naked from the waist up, dressed only in a pair of Draco's jeans. Not only that, but his hair was still dripping wet and glistened with moisture, and his skin was almost dewy with water.

Something inside Draco snapped.

''''''

"Draco, come on," Harry demanded, not liking the way Draco was eyeing him. The veela raised his head to look at him, his pupils so dilated so that his eyes almost appeared black.

"I need a shirt," Harry said, feeling uncomfortable, as Draco didn't move or answer him.

"Draco, knock it off. Stop staring at me," Harry said irritably, and Draco stood up. Instead of going towards his closet to get Harry a shirt, however, Draco was now heading straight towards Harry.

"Draco?" Harry asked, and took a nervous step backward as the blonde kept coming forwards. "What are you doing?"

Harry kept backing up as Draco advanced on him, until Harry felt his back hit the cold stone wall. Harry closed his eyes as Draco pressed into him, panic beginning to sweep through his body.

"Draco, please don't," Harry whispered. "Not like this."

Something in Harry's pleading tone of voice must have cut through Draco's hormone-crazed haze, because the blonde suddenly backed away from Harry as fast as he could.

Relief flooded through Harry, and he relaxed. He knew he could trust Draco, that the veela wouldn't actually hurt him or force him.

'''''

Draco meanwhile, was tense as a bowstring and most definitely not relaxed as he realized that he was maybe three minutes away from losing all control and ravishing Harry.

Harry opened his mouth and was about to speak when Draco spoke first. "I think you better go, Harry."

"Draco," Harry began, but Draco cut him off.

"I mean it," the blonde said harshly, dropping down onto his bed and pointing at the door. "Something's wrong with me. Not to mince words, but in half a second you really are going to be defending your virtue from the big, bad veela."

Harry shook his head. "Look, I'm not afraid of you, I'm really not. Let me just put a shirt on and you'll feel better, I promise."

"You don't understand," Draco said angrily. He wasn't getting through to Harry, and the momentary control he had was beginning to slip. "I can't control myself right now. You have to go."

"Draco, I'm not leaving, I trust you. I'm sure you can control this," Harry said rationally, refusing to be cowed. "We have a lot to talk about, and - "

"Harry, GET OUT," Draco shouted, clenching his hands into fists, feeling the veela powers beginning to leak through as his attempts to control them began to fail.

"Stop worrying so much, you'll be fine," Harry said reassuringly, moving away from the wall towards the bed, and towards Draco.

"Potter, listen to me," Draco began, as Harry walked over to him, oblivious to the danger he was in. "You need to leave. I'm losing control, and if you don't want to have sex in the next two minutes, you need to get out. Please, Harry," Draco pleaded, squeezing his eyes shut so he wasn't looking at Harry, but still feeling his self-control teetering on the brink.

Harry now seemed to be getting really worried about Draco. He reached the bed and stood right in front of Draco's knees, looking at him anxiously. Draco face was flushed and his breathing was too heavy.

"Draco, are you okay?" he asked with concern, reaching down to feel Draco's forehead.

The instant Harry's fingers made contact with Draco's skin the last bit of control that Draco had snapped.

He reached out and grabbed Harry's wrist, yanking him down towards the bed as hard as he could. Harry was caught off-guard and lost his balance, tumbling down on the bed on his back. Before he could do anything Draco rolled on top of him and pinned him, catching his lips with his own even as he held both of Harry's wrists securely in his grasp.

"I told you to get out," the blonde whispered harshly against Harry lips, as Harry squirmed and tried to free himself underneath him. "You should have listened to me."

Harry had a fleeting moment of absolute panic and fear before that now-familiar rush of sensation clicked in: Draco's veela powers.

And in a split-second Harry was no longer scared but was moaning under Draco's touch as the blonde ran his hands over Harry's bare skin. Harry reached down and grabbed the hem of Draco's sweater, yanking it over his head.

Both boys hissed as their bare chests came into contact for the first time, the skin-on-skin sensation sending bolts of pleasure coursing through them both. Harry rolled them over so that he was on top, and began to lick and suck on Draco's neck before sliding down to apply those same ministrations to Draco's chest.

Harry took one of Draco's nipples in his teeth, sucking hard before he bit down. Draco's eyes rolled back into his head, and he slid his hands down Harry's back before grabbing the Gryffindor's arse and pressing Harry's groin down against his own.

"Ohgod," Harry breathed as Draco began to rock his hips against Harry's, and he bit down on Draco's neck to keep a stream of swear words from leaving his mouth. Draco seized the opportunity to roll them over again, pinning Harry on his back against the mattress and grinding down into him, a sheen of sweat covering his pale skin and making him glow ethereally.

Harry reached up and sank his hands into Draco's silky hair, grabbing the blonde locks tightly in his fists and pulling gently, arching Draco head back so he could kiss and bite his neck. Draco shuddered above him, and moved one hand behind Harry's head to pull his face up to his own, pressing a kiss of almost bruising intensity on Harry's lips.

The feeling of the kiss, Draco's soft lips against his own and his tongue deep in Harry's mouth, pushed Harry over the edge. He came with a cry against Draco's mouth, and Draco, who had been hovering on the edge himself, now came hard as Harry's cry of ecstasy triggered his own release.

''''''''''''''''''

Draco collapsed on top of Harry, burying his head in the space between Harry's neck and shoulder, breathing heavily. He felt Harry's arms wrap around his back, pulling him close, and he smiled in contentment.

Draco lay there happily for a moment, a feeling of utter bliss coursing through his body, before he felt Harry suddenly go rigid underneath him.

"Get off me," Harry whispered, and stunned, Draco propped himself up on his arms to look into Harry's face.

"What?" he asked, clearly confused, and then Harry's hands were on his chest.

"I said get off me," Harry snarled, shoving hard, and Draco moved off Harry as quickly as he could, half from the force of Harry's arms and half from the force of Harry's command.

Draco moved over to the edge of the bed and Harry quickly stood up, and without a second look at Draco began moving towards the door.

"Harry?" Draco asked, standing up, worried and uncertain. Harry whirled around to face him, and Draco was taken aback by the sheer fury in those bright green eyes.

And then Draco realized what he had done.

"Oh my God," he whispered, as the comprehension tore through him. "Oh Harry, I'm so sorry, please, I didn't mean to," he pleaded, and Harry just continued to look at him furiously.

"Why, Draco?" he asked harshly.

"Harry, please," Draco begged. "I don't know what came over me. I couldn't control it. I tried but I couldn't. I'm so sorry."

Harry glared at him. "I trusted you!" he said, and Draco winced at the raw emotion in Harry's voice.

"I know, and I'm so sorry, Harry, I really am. Although, to be fair," Draco said, trying to defend himself. "I tried to warn you. I told you to get out."

"Oh, so now this is my fault?" Harry asked, incredulous and angry. "Because I didn't leave?"

"I'm not saying it's your fault," Draco said, beginning to get upset himself. "But it's not completely my fault either! I'm sorry if I hurt you but I'm part veela, I can't help these things!"

"How bloody convenient, Draco," said Harry, his voice steeped in sarcasm. "You can take advantage of me and blame it on being a veela. That's nice, really nice."

"Look, I lost control, and I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" Draco growled, his temper rising.

"But you still did it! How am I ever supposed to trust you again?" Harry said furiously.

Draco folded his arms over his chest defensively. "Now you're just being a drama queen. You can still trust me."

"Can I?" Harry said, his eyes glinting. "How do I know that the next time you fancy a fuck you're not going to turn on the charm and pound me into the mattress whether I want it or not?"

That comment made Draco very angry. "I would never do that," he snarled, his eyes narrowed into silvery slits. "I care about you too much."

"Really? Because you've got a funny way of showing it," Harry said bitterly. "Using your veela powers to control me just because you want to get off."

"Oh for God's sake Harry," Draco snapped, now every bit as furious as Harry. "Did you ever think that maybe this wouldn't have happened if you weren't so goddamn frigid in the first place?"

As soon as the words left his mouth Draco regretted them. The look on Harry's face sent a flood of cold guilt and shame into Draco's stomach as he realized what he had just said.

"Fuck you, Malfoy," Harry spat, and turned to leave. "And don't follow me," he added, his voice cold as ice as he slipped out the portrait.

"Harry, wait, no," Draco said, trying to run after him, but it was too late. Harry had gone, and Draco, unable to disobey Harry's order, couldn't follow.

15  Absolute Chaos

Harry ran through the halls of Hogwart's, barely noticing where he was going. The corridors were cold and he still wasn't wearing a shirt, but the heat in his body fueled by his running and his tumultuous feelings kept him burning. He ran, and ran, and he didn't stop until he found himself in an unfamiliar section of the castle that appeared to be empty.

Harry finally paused to catch his breath, and leaned against the stone wall, the coolness of the stones a welcome sensation against his burning skin.

A million mixed emotions were flowing through him, the most notable an aching mix of hurt and foolishness and betrayal. Why had Draco done that to him? Why? And why hadn't he listened to Draco when he said to get out?

Harry slid down the wall and sat on the cold floor, tilting his head backwards until it rested against the stones and closing his eyes. He heard approaching footsteps and he prayed that whoever it was would just leave him the hell alone.

"Harry? Is that you?"

Harry recognized that voice, and slowly opened his eyes. It was Cho, who was looking down at him with concern.

"Cho," Harry began weakly. "What are you doing here?"

Cho smiled. "I could ask you the same question." At Harry puzzled look, she gestured down the corridor. "This is Ravenclaw territory. Our common room's not far from here. Bit out of the way for a Gryffindor like yourself, isn't it?"

Harry shrugged. "Guess so." He began to push himself up. "Sorry about that, I'll get out of your way."

Cho stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "No, you're fine. No one really uses this corridor anyway." She took a closer look at him. "Harry, is everything alright? Where's your shirt?"

Harry smiled thinly. "Long story. Look, I'll just get going," he said, attempting to stand up again.

Cho wasn't having it. "Just stay put, silly," she said, kneeling down to sit next to Harry on the floor. She turned to rest her back against the stone wall as well, moving so that her shoulder was only inches from Harry's shoulder. "So, want to tell me what's bothering you?"

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Back in his room, Draco was sitting in his armchair, curled up in a tight ball, trembling. He felt so horrible - sick, nauseous and dizzy. What had he just done? He had let his veela powers take over, and had taken advantage of Harry. And to make matters worse he had insulted his mate and called him frigid. Oh God, the look on Harry's face...

Draco stood up, wobbling slightly, and staggered over to his desk. He wanted to tear after Harry and apologize, to beg and plead with Harry to forgive him. But he was a veela and Harry was his mate, and thanks to Harry's command that wasn't an option.

He was so miserable, and he could only think of one thing that might possibly make him forget what had just happened with Harry:

Vodka.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"I can't believe I'm telling you this," Harry said for the third time, after spilling the story of what had just happened with Draco to Cho. Cho smiled.

"You needed to tell someone, Harry," she said, knocking his shoulder with her own playfully, "And who better than an old friend?"

Harry smiled back. Cho hadn't quite pulled back after that teasing bump, and now their shoulders were pressed together, as were Cho's right leg and Harry's left. Harry gave it only a fleeting thought - sure, he and Cho might have shared a couple kisses last year, but that relationship had blown over, leaving them with just a platonic friendship like the one he shared with Hermione.

Right?

Granted, Harry hadn't had a crush that lasted two years on Hermione, and Hermione didn't have Cho's long, silky black hair or almond-shaped chocolate-colored eyes, but still. He and Cho were just friends, and friends sometimes sat a bit snuggled up together, especially if they were having a meaningful conversation.

"So," Harry said, feeling quite a bit calmer than he had been all day, "Are you still seeing Michael Corner?"

Cho laughed sweetly and shook her head. "Nope. That ship sailed ages ago."

"Oh, sorry to hear that," Harry said, completely insincerely. After Michael and Ginny went out he had come to think that Michael was a bit of an idiot. "What happened?"

Cho paused for a moment. "He seemed to think that I hadn't really gotten over you," Cho said, laying her head against Harry's shoulder.

Harry let out a short laugh. "Well, that was a silly thing for him to think, wasn't it?" he said, letting Cho rest her head against him. After all, maybe she was tired and didn't want to hold her head up anymore.

"Oh, I don't know how silly it was, Harry," Cho whispered softly reaching down, and entwining the fingers of her right hand gently with Harry's left.

A very faint alarm bell began to ring somewhere in Harry's head.

Cho lifted her head up to stare into Harry's bright green eyes. "I think Michael may have been right."

And with that she leaned in and kissed Harry.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Draco covered his ears in irritation as he heard a loud knock on his portrait.

"Goway!" he slurred, knocking back the remainder of the alcohol in his second shot of vodka.

"Malfoy, it's me, Nott! Look, I know you're in there and I need to talk to you! Now open the portrait, damn it!"

Theodore Nott's voice drifted through the dragon portrait, and Draco rolled his eyes.

"NO!" he shouted, slumping back in the armchair. "I said GO AWAY!"

"I'm not going anywhere!" Nott's voice drifted back in. "And I can stay here all night if I need to, so get off your arse and open the door!"

"FINE," Draco finally huffed, standing up. He made his way very unsteadily to the portrait and threw it open.

"What do you want?" he asked, holding himself up with a hand against the door frame, feeling rather unsteady on his feet.

Nott suddenly seemed a million miles away. "Draco, did I ever tell you that I'm a dragon slayer?" His face had a dreamy and vacant expression.

"For Christ's sake," Draco said, rolling his eyes and causing himself to sway dangerously.

"I am," Nott said insistently, giving Draco a coy smile. "And I'm filthy rich, too, and so good in bed. Why, I could rock your world so hard that - "

"Got...to turn...these bloody powers...off," Draco mumbled, and attempted to concentrate. "Bloody veela powers," he continued to mumble to himself. "Make Nott crazy, make Harry leave."

After a great deal of effort, he finally got a handle on the attraction and turned it off. Theodore Nott's eyes cleared up immediately.

"Thanks, Malfoy," he said, shaking his head.

"Don't mention it," Draco said magnanimously, "Stupid powers. Keep getting away from me tonight."

"Do they." It wasn't a question.

Nott was looking at Draco with a calculating gleam in his eye. "Malfoy, have you been drinking the vodka I gave you?"

"Maybe," Draco said, moving away from the door frame to let Nott enter the room and nearly falling over in the process.

"Lovely," Nott said, pulling out his wand.

Draco looked at him a blinked a couple times. "Why's that lovely?" he asked, placing a hand on the foot of his bed to steady himself.

"Because," Nott said, smiling brightly, "It makes it so much easier to do this." He pointed his wand at Draco.

"Imperio!"

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

The instant Cho's lips touched Harry's, he froze.

A thousand thoughts went through his mind at the speed of light: Cho still wanted him, Cho was so sweet and uncomplicated, Cho couldn't ever hurt him like Draco could...

Draco.

The blonde's face flashed in front of Harry's eyes, and he pulled back from Cho.

"Cho," he said, backing away on the stone floor, "I can't do this."

Cho rolled her eyes. "Because of Malfoy? Harry, come on."

"Yes, because of Draco," Harry said, standing up quickly. "Do you have any idea how devastated he would be?"

Cho stood up as well and leaned casually against the stone wall. "So what? He chose you, Harry, not the other way around. He needs you, but you don't need him. And why the hell do you even want him after what he did to you today? He took advantage of you, Harry, and if you stay with him he'll probably rape you."

Harry hesitated, and Cho saw her chance. "I would never do that to you, Harry," she said softly, walking closer.

"It was an accident," Harry said swiftly, as Cho inched ever closer. "Draco didn't mean to do it, he just lost control of his powers. It won't happen again."

Cho laughed derisively. "Harry, don't be naïve. Of course it will happen again. Malfoy will do that to you every chance he gets."

"No, he won't," Harry said firmly. "He tried to warn me before it happened. He told me to get out and I didn't listen."

"He called you frigid."

"Everyone says things they don't mean during a fight. We were both upset. He cares about me and he won't let happen again." Harry wasn't sure whether or not he believed this, but he wasn't going to let Cho drag Draco through the mud.

"He doesn't care about you!" Cho said viciously. "He just wants you for sex!"

"You don't know that," Harry said defensively.

Cho threw her hands up in the air in a gesture of absolute frustration. "Are you really that thick, Harry? How can you defend that monster?" she asked incredulously.

"He's not a monster, Cho!" Harry was getting mad.

"Oh yes he is," Cho insisted, and she and Harry faced off, glaring at each other. "He's not even human! Why would you want some half-blood freak when you could be with someone normal?"

Harry's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "A half-blood freak?" he snarled, now very angry. "Is that what you think Draco is?"

"Yes!" Cho snapped back. "He's a dangerous animal, Harry!"

"No he's NOT!"

Cho set her mouth in a very thin line. "Fine, Harry, have it your way. Go running back to your little veela. And when he uses his veela powers to rape you, which he will, you know where to find me."

And with that she huffed off down the corridor. Harry squeezed his eyes shut in frustration and turned and slammed his fist in the stone wall.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath, shaking his aching hand, and then whirled around and took off, heading back to Gryffindor tower.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"Follow me, Draco," Nott said evenly, and Draco obediently followed him. Nott led Draco up the corridors and out of the dungeons, and then past the empty Great Hall and down another corridor. Finally they stopped in front of an unused classroom and walked into the room.

"And now we wait," Nott said pleasantly, hopping up and sitting on one of the desks, swinging his legs in the air. "Sit down," he said, gesturing to Draco, who dutifully sat down at the desk next to him. "And drink some more vodka," he said, pulling another bottle out of his bag and passing it to Draco. "You're so much more fun to control when you're drunk."

Draco grasped the bottle and took a big sip, coughing slightly as the liquid burned his throat. He passed it back to Nott, who gave him a patronizing smile.

"You never did any research about veela, did you?" he asked, and Draco just stared blankly at him. Nott closed his eyes.

"Veela, or even part-veela, should never drink alcohol without understanding the consequences," he recited. "As alcohol causes a wizard to lose their inhibitions, the effects are ten-fold upon those with active veela blood."

He paused and opened his eyes. "Understanding the Veela in You, page 56. Do you know what that means, Draco?"

Draco just continued to stare straight through Nott, eyes unfocused.

"It means," Nott said, deciding to explain things to Draco anyway, "That veela can't hold their liquor. A couple shots of vodka and you're so drunk you can barely walk. Not only that, but it's very, very hard for a drunk veela to control their veela powers."

Nott cocked his head. "Hell, just one drink is more than enough to make a veela lose control in the right circumstances. The only thing that's keeping your powers from coming back on is the fact that I've got you locked down tight under the Imperious Curse."

Nott studied Draco for a moment, to see if that got a reaction, but the veela didn't budge. Nott shrugged.

"Well, be sure to tell the Dark Lord that I did my research," he said, and handed the bottle back to Draco. "Now drink up, lovey. Cheers."

''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Harry burst into the Gryffindor common room, red-faced, shirtless, one hand scraped and bleeding. Ron and Hermione looked up from their spot on the couch, mouths dropping open in shock as they took in Harry's condition.

"Harry, what on earth...?" Hermione started to ask, but Lavender beat her to it.

"Harry, what happened to you?" she asked, quickly standing up from the table where she was working on Advanced Divination with Parvati. "You're all red and sweaty. Do you have a fever? Here, let me..." she strode over to Harry, reaching out to feel his forehead.

Harry jerked away. "I'm fine, really, but thanks," he said, slightly shortly.

Lavender ignored his protest. "Don't be silly, let me just check if..." Lavender's mouth suddenly fell open. "Are you wearing lipstick?"

Harry's good hand flew to his lips reflexively and he cursed Cho again in his mind. "Lavender, don't be silly, I - "

"Oh my God, Harry, you're not wearing lipstick, that's someone else's lipstick. You've been snogging someone other than Malfoy!"

Lavender said this last part a little too loudly, and whispers broke out through the common room.

Harry closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. "Lavender, I haven't been snogging anyone, I've been - "

"Oh, it's alright, Harry, I won't tell Draco," Lavender cooed, pressing up close to Harry. "It'll be our little secret."

Harry just stared at her, open-mouthed.

Lavender pressed on. ""In fact, as long as you're open to snogging other people, maybe you and I could have a go?"

Harry snapped.

"That is IT!" he shouted, whipping out his wand. "If ONE MORE PERSON bloody tries to get in my pants tonight, I'm going to start hexing limbs off! Do you understand?!?"

Lavender backed away, alarmed. Hermione and Ron exchanged worried glances and then ran over to Harry.

"Okay, come on, Harry, there's a good lad. Come upstairs with your nice friends to the nice room with the nice bed," Ron said, grasping one arm.

"Yes, bed, wonderful idea Ron," Hermione said, grabbing Harry's other arm. "Let's go, Harry, up we get, let's have a lovely little best friends sort of chat."

Harry slumped in relief and let his two best friends drag him upstairs to his bedroom. Once inside, Harry fell down on his bed face first and buried his head in his pillow.

Ron and Hermione sat down on either side of him on the bed.

"Give me your hand, Harry," Hermione said, and without looking up Harry extended his right hand for Hermione.

She pursed her lips and studied it for a moment. "What did you hit?"

"Stone wall," Harry mumbled into his pillow. Hermione and Ron exchanged worried glances.

"Harry, really, you could have broken bones like that," Hermione said, casting a couple healing spells over Harry's bruised and bloody hand.

"I know," Harry sighed, rolling on his back. "But I had to let it out somehow."

Ron looked at him carefully. "You look like you've had a rough evening."

"A bit, yeah."

Ron nodded thoughtfully. "So...who's been trying to get in your pants?"

Harry groaned. "You don't want to know."

"Try us," Hermione said, reaching out and playing with Harry's hair. "You can always tell us anything."

Harry sighed again, and began his story.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"Know what this is, Draco?"

Draco didn't move.

"It's a portkey," Nott said, dangling a medallion on a long gold chain in front of Draco's eyes. "And it's going to take your hammered arse straight to the Dark Lord's personal chambers, or so I was told. No idea what he wants with you, but I don't question my orders."

Nott fingered the medallion, rolling it in his hand. "In case you were wondering, it's one of those time activated portkeys. It's going to become active in," he paused and glanced at his watch. "Oooh, just about twenty minutes. Aren't you excited, Draco?"

Draco's eyes did stray up to Nott's face at these words, but he did nothing. Nott continued to talk to Draco anyway.

"You know, after I give you to the Dark Lord I become a fully-fledged Death Eater. I'm so looking forward to that. The Dark Lord said that if I succeed in this mission then he'll forgive me screwing up with Potter. In fact, he might even let me try to bring Potter to him."

At Harry's name, Draco perked up. "Harry..." he said, and Nott watched in amusement as Draco began to resist the Imperious curse.

"You can't fight off the curse, Draco," he said patronizingly. "It works amazingly well on veela. Something to do with veela already primed for control by their mates. Really, don't even bother trying."

"Harry..." Draco said again, blinking rapidly. Nott rolled his eyes.

"What, you actually think Potter is going to come and save you?"

Draco shook his head "no" violently.

Nott hadn't expected that reaction. "No? Why not?"

Draco looked down at the floor.

"Draco, answer me," Nott commanded. "Why isn't Potter coming to save you?"

Draco bit his lip. "He's mad at me," he finally whispered.

Oh, this was too good. Malfoy and Potter had had a fight? This could be fun, if Nott handled it right. "Did you do something to him, Draco?" he asked sternly, like a scolding parent.

Draco nodded.

"What did you do?" Nott asked, curious.

"Used my powers without asking," Draco said, looking ashamed.

Nott nodded thoughtfully, and then the game began. "That was a horrible thing to do, Draco, treating your mate like that. Complete and utterly horrible. How could you do that to him? Harry's never going to forgive you for that, you know."

Tears began to well up in Draco's eyes, and Nott pressed on. "He'll never, ever forgive you. He's going to hate you forever."

"No!" Draco cried, looking at Nott, horrified. He blinked, and a tear fell down his cheek. "Harry..."

Nott shook his head. "There's no Harry here," he said harshly, continuing to wreck havoc on the veela's fragile, drunken psyche. "Harry doesn't want you anymore. He's found somebody better."

"No," Draco said fervently, shaking his head. "No, no, no..."

"Yes, Draco," Nott said mercilessly, his words designed to cut Draco to the quick. "Harry hates you because of what you did. You screwed things up with your mate, and he'll never want you ever again. He doesn't love you anymore."

Nott watched in glee as Draco completely broke before him, his face crumpling as tears began streaming down his cheeks.

"Harry..." the veela sobbed, burying his head in his arms on the desk, his shoulders shaking. Nott smiled and fingered his wand.

"That was just too easy," he said.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"...and then I ran in here and Lavender said she wanted to snog me and...yeah. I kind of lost it."

"And you're still not going to tell us who kissed you in the corridor, Harry?" Hermione asked, and Harry shook his head no.

"If Draco finds out, he'll kill her, and he and I have enough problems to deal with as it is."

Ron looked confused. "I thought Malfoy's veela powers didn't work on you."

Harry shrugged. "They do, but only when we're alone, it seems."

"Well, obviously," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "When there are multiple people around it dilutes the strength of the powers and you can resist them better."

"Yeah, well, too bad there wasn't anyone else in Draco's room tonight," Harry said, slightly bitterly. "That would have solved our problems."

Hermione sat back against the headboard of the bed and looked distraught. "This is so weird. I can't believe he did that too you."

Ron shook his head. "Me either."

Harry sat up in the bed. "You guys are surprised? But you both were always warning me that Draco was really dangerous and I needed to be careful and keep him in line. I would have thought you expected him to do something like this."

"He's very dangerous to other people, Harry. I don't think I ever actually believed he'd be dangerous to you," Hermione said, looking grim.

Ron shook his head. "Yeah, veela are a bit scary and all, but they practically worship their mates. No matter how horny he gets, it's hard for me to take in that he actually took advantage of you."

"Are you sure you've told us everything?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Harry said.

"Everything everything, Harry. Every little detail. There could be something important that we missed."

Harry rolled his eyes. "What more do you want me to say? That he met me at the door wearing grey trousers and a tight black sweater holding what must have been the gayest looking drink I've ever seen? And then he said "hey" and I said "hey" and - "

Hermione snapped to attention. "Back up. Drink? What drink?"

Harry shrugged. "Called it a "cosmopolitan." Cranberry juice, lime, vodka. Said it was his mum's favorite."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "He was DRINKING???" she screeched.

Harry and Ron both looked at her, stunned.

"Yeah..." Harry finally ventured. "So what?"

"SO WHAT?" Hermione's hand shot down and grabbed the book that Harry had placed under his pillow at lunch. "Don't you bloody READ?"

"Yes!" Harry protested. "But I've been busy!"

Hermione opened the book, scanned through it a bit, and then threw it back at Harry.

"Read that," she said, pointing to the words at the top of the page: Veela and Alcohol. Harry glanced back at Ron, who shrugged. As Harry read the first paragraph, his eyes grew wider and wider.

"Oh my God," he finally said, closing the book. "It wasn't his fault. He had been drinking alcohol, and he was already having trouble controlling his powers, and then I was stripping in front of him..." he trailed off, looking upset. "And he tried to get me leave, and I didn't. Merlin, what a mess."

Ron took the book from Harry and scanned the passages for himself. "Gosh, Harry, what are you going to do? Malfoy must be devastated."

Harry furrowed his brow. "You really think so?"

Hermione nodded. "Oh yes, poor Draco's probably heartbroken right now. Imagine that you took advantage of the love of your life because of something you couldn't control. Now multiply that by ten and you've got what a veela would be feeling right now."

Harry was stuck on something she had said. "Love of his life?"

"Well, yeah. That's you," Hermione said, puzzled by Harry's confused expression.

"But...I thought it was just a sex thing for veela. I thought veela couldn't really love," Harry said, and the looks on Ron and Hermione's faces spoke volumes.

"Who told you that rubbish?" Ron asked. "Even I knew that veela fall in love."

"Yeah Harry," said Hermione, looking concerned. "I mean, sure, the sex is a big part of it for veela, but it's definitely not just a sex thing. Veela fall deeply, madly, and passionately in love with their mates. The only people who say it's just a sex thing are those few prejudiced people who believe that veelas are really animals. Where on earth did you hear that?"

But Harry wasn't listening anymore. He had gone very pale, and was now jumping off the bed.

"I've got to find Draco," he said, throwing open his trunk and grabbing a t-shirt. "There's been a horrible misunderstanding and I left him alone with an entire bottle of vodka. He's probably alone and drunk and miserable and I've got to go to him."

He went for the door, then promptly turned around and went back to his trunk. He dug around a bit and pulled out his trusty Maurader's Map.

"Last time I went looking for him I couldn't find him anywhere," he explained to Ron and Hermione. "Let me just check the map and make sure I know where he is."

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Theodore Nott slid off the desk and walked over to where Draco was sobbing into his arms.

"Draco, look at me," he commanded, and Draco lifted his head, tears still running down his cheeks. Nott studied him for a moment.

"God, you're even beautiful when you cry," he said softly, reaching out to touch Draco's face. Draco didn't move. Nott fingered the medallion portkey in his hands, then slipped it over Draco's head so it hung around his neck.

"Ten minutes, Draco," he said in a business-like tone, but the look in his eyes was far from business. Nott was an excellent student, much like Hermione. When the Dark Lord had assigned him to kidnap Draco, he had done all the research he possibly could about veela before designing his plan. That's how he knew that the vodka would make Draco exceedingly drunk and easy to control.

Now, however, something else he had learned about veela was running through his mind.

"Draco, stand up," he finally said, and the blond stood and faced Nott, sniffing slightly. Nott reached out and and captured a lock of Draco's hair, letting it slip through his fingers. It felt like silk. Knowing that if the Dark Lord ever found out what he was about to do he might be killed, he still couldn't help himself.

He leaned forward and kissed Draco hard on the lips. Draco still didn't move, so Nott commanded him again.

"Draco, kiss me," he said, reaching one hand behind Draco's head and crushing his mouth with his own. Obediently Draco opened his mouth and began to kiss Nott back, and Draco's sweet taste combined with the heady power of control made Nott reckless.

"Turn on your veela powers for me. Just a little," he whispered, and under the Imperious Curse Draco had no other choice. The kiss immediately became a sea of pleasurable heat for Nott, who gasped at the sudden change in sensations.

"Wow," he breathed, pulling back for a second and looking at Draco in awe. "Potter is one lucky bastard. Or was one, I should say," he smirked.

At the word "Potter," Draco started. "Harry..." he whispered, and Nott rolled his eyes.

"Shut up about Potter," he said harshly. "Or I'll use the Crutiatus curse on you, understand?"

Draco just continued to stare at Nott with vacant eyes. Nott narrowed his own.

"Kiss me, Draco, and use your veela powers again. Stronger this time," he ordered, wrapping his arms around Draco's waist and pulling him tight against his own body. Draco dutifully leaned forward and began to kiss Nott again.

Nott became completely lost in the amazing play of sensations from just a kiss. He felt almost drunk with the pleasure of Draco's soft lips against his own, the blonde's veela powers acting as a powerful aphrodisiac.

Maybe that's why he didn't hear the door burst open.

"What the FUCK is going on here?"

Nott did, however, hear that.

Pulling away from Draco and looking at the door, Nott felt his stomach jump into his throat. Standing in the doorway, flanked by a furious Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, was Harry Potter, looking absolutely murderous. His chest was heaving, his green eyes were glowing, and his wand was pointed straight at Nott's heart.

"Theodore Nott, you disgusting piece of shit," Harry snarled. "Get your fucking hands off my veela."

16   Mind Games

At the sound of his mate's voice, Draco jerked.

"Harry," he whimpered, twisting around in Nott's arms to see if by some miracle his mate had actually come back. Nott immediately tightened his grip around Draco, now holding him tightly from behind, his arms locked around Draco's waist to keep him from escaping.

"You're not going anywhere, Draco. Now hold still," Nott said to the trapped veela, and Draco, still under the Imperious curse, stopped trying to break free.

"Let him go, Nott," Harry growled, his wand still pointed at Theodore Nott. Behind him, Ron and Hermione had drawn their wands as well.

"Not on your life, Potter," Nott said, tightening his grip mercilessly and making Draco cry out in pain.

Harry saw red. "Let. Him. GO," he snarled, advancing forward, "Or I promise when I'm done with you, the House Elves will still be cleaning your blood from these walls ten years from now."

Nott took a couple steps backwards, dragging Draco with him. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Draco's temple. "Sorry, Potter, but Draco's not going anywhere. And if you come any closer then I'll make him suffer more."

Harry paused. Draco was already trembling, and his eyes were glassy and unfocused. "What did you do to him, Nott?"

"Like I'd tell you," Nott sneered. "Now, you've got exactly three seconds to put your wand on the ground or I'll blast your precious little veela with the Crutiatus curse."

Harry glared at Nott.

"One...two..."

"Okay, okay," Harry said quickly, and complied, placing his wand on the ground.

"Your little guard dogs too."

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry, who nodded once. They both slowly lowered their wands.

"Good, very good," Nott said condescendingly, and then leaned down and whispered something in Draco's ear.

"What are you saying to him, you son of a bitch?" Harry growled.

Nott smiled sinisterly. "Aw, someone sounds a little upset. You don't like me holding on to your veela, Potter? Or kissing him?"

"What gave you the first clue?" Harry said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Nott turned his head slightly, and ran his tongue up Draco's cheek. "Mmmm," he said, as he licked the blonde, "he tastes like candy."

Harry was so furious he began to shake with anger. "You sick fucker, let him go."

"Temper, temper, Potter. You really ought to - NOW, Draco!"

"STUPEFY!" Both Draco and Nott cried out simultaneously, Nott aiming for Ron and Draco aiming for Hermione. Both spells hit their unsuspecting marks straight in the chest, and Ron and Hermione fell to the ground, unconscious.

Harry dove for his wand, but Nott had been expecting that. The second Harry's finger touched the wood Nott shouted "Expelliarmus!" and the wand flew out of Harry's grasp, rolling several feet away.

Harry turned over onto his back, only to see Nott looming over him, wand pointed straight between his eyes. Ropes shot of out the Slytheirn's wand, and in a matter of seconds Harry was completely bound and helpless on the floor.

"Do you know how pleased the Dark Lord will be when I deliver not only Malfoy here, but your dead body to him personally?"

Harry's eyes narrowed, even as he struggled uselessly against the ropes. "So you're the other Death Eater wannabe. The one who was controlling Justin Finch-Fletchley when he tried to rape me."

"The one and only," Nott said, leering down at Harry. "I happen to be very good at the Imperious curse."

A very evil smile crossed Nott's face. "Want to see just how good I am?" He didn't wait for Harry to answer. "Draco! Get over here."

Draco was standing against the wall, eyes squeezed shut as if he were in pain. At Nott's words, he jolted and began to walk towards Nott and Harry.

Harry finally recognized Draco's symptoms. "You've got Draco under the Imperious curse, do you?" Harry hissed, glaring up at Nott from the floor. "And you think that will work? Then you're stupider than I thought. Draco!" he called out, in his most desperate, authoritative voice. "Stay back! Don't move!"

Draco froze in his tracks. His eyes were wide as he began to glance between Nott and Harry.

"I don't think you want to do that, Potter," Nott said, in a sickeningly sweet voice. Then he called out again. "Draco! I said COME!"

Draco took a couple halting steps forward.

"Draco, no! Stay back!"

Draco stopped moving, then took a step forward, then stopped again. He took one more halting step forward before he clutched at his head and began to whimper.

"Draco!" Harry cried out, as the blonde fell to his knees and began rocking back and forth, clutching at his head and making sounds of pain. Harry looked up at Nott, horrified.

"What the hell is going on?"

Nott rolled his eyes. "Oh, Potter. Honestly. You and Malfoy are quite the pair. Don't either of you read?"

"Shut the fuck up and tell me what's wrong with Draco!"

Nott drew back his foot and kicked Harry in the stomach.

"Watch your mouth, Potter."

At Harry's cry of pain, Draco growled and jerked up, eyes blazing murderously. Nott looked terrified for half a second before he remembered himself and said, "Draco, calm down."

Draco's eyes glazed over again, and he went back to trembling on the floor.

"What's wrong with Malfoy," Nott said in a bored voice, as if explaining the most basic of spells to a first-year, "is that we're breaking his mind."

"WHAT?" Harry gasped.

"Don't you see? I've got him under Imperious, so I can order him to do anything I like. But you're his mate, so you can command him as well. And when our orders conflict with each other, he doesn't know which one to follow, and it drives him crazy."

Nott spared a glance at the veela, who was huddled in a ball on the floor. "Not to mention that he wants to defend you so badly but the Imperious curse won't let him. That alone might be enough to break him."

Harry was positively terrified. He couldn't let Nott get away with this, but he couldn't use Draco either, couldn't order him to do anything, because he didn't want to damage his mind or distress him even further.

Nott smiled an extremely horrible smile. "Of course, that's nothing compared to what we're about to do. If we play this game right, Draco's mind will probably completely crack. Oh Draco! Come over here! We're going to have some fun with your mate!"

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Draco slowly stood up from the floor, a blank look on his face. He was still trembling, and Harry wanted nothing more than to comfort him, but the blasted ropes kept him securely immobile.

"Draco, here's what I want you to do. You're going to point your wand at your mate and say 'Crucio.' Are you ready?"

Harry's stomach lurched with dread, and Draco looked panicked.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "No."

"It's really not up to you, is it? But if you like, we can start smaller." Nott paused to think for a moment. "How about you kick him? Go on, Draco, why don't you kick Potter here, hard as you can."

"No, please, no," Draco said, his trembling becoming more pronounced.

"Yes, Draco. That's an order. Kick Harry. Now."

Whimpering, Draco obeyed. Harry winced as Draco's foot connected with his shin, but made no sound, determined to keep quiet for Draco's sake, hoping to spare the veela some mental anguish.

"Good boy, Draco. Now how about a Stinging Hex? Not as bad as Crutiatus, but still packs quite a bit of pain."

"No!" said Draco, as tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks, the arm holding his wand shaking so badly he was barely hanging on to the wood. Harry watched in horror, his mind racing, desperately trying to think of a way out of the situation before Draco's mind snapped.

"Yes!" said Nott, looking amused. "Do it. Now."

Pointing his wand at Harry, Draco took a shaky breath and said the spell. A jet of light hit Harry right in the chest, but Harry still made no sound. The only indication of his pain was a sharp intake of breath.

Draco was sobbing now, barely hanging on to his sanity as he watched his mate suffer at his own hand.

Harry tried to reassure him. "Draco, I'm fine, it's okay," Harry said, as soothingly as he could to the veela. "I know this isn't your fault."

The thought crossed Harry's mind - maybe he could order Draco to throw off the Imperious curse? He dismissed it almost immediately - the Imperious curse controlled the mind, where as Harry only had a limited amount of control over Draco's body. It was unlikely to work and could damage Draco's mind even more. But he had to think of something, and he had to think fast.

Nott made a dramatic show of looking at his watch. "Wow, would you look at the time? Well, Potter, it's been fun, but it's almost time for Draco to go."

"Go?" Harry said, turning his head sharply in Nott's direction. "Go where?"

"None of your business. Now, I think we've got time for maybe one more curse, and I'm willing to bet that hitting his mate with the Crutiatus curse will completely shatter this veela's mind. Ready, Draco?"

"No," Draco pleaded, "Please no."

And suddenly a very desperate idea struck Harry.

"On the count of three," Nott said patronizingly. "One...two..."

"Draco - turn on your veela powers!" Harry ordered desperately. "Do you understand me? Turn your veela powers on as strong as you can!"

And in an instant Harry actually felt Draco's magic sweep through the room. Nott immediately dropped his wand as his eyes glazed over and his face went slack.

"Draco, did I tell you I've got the biggest vault in Gringott's? Because I do, and I'd love to spend all that money on you, because you're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. Why, I'd buy you so many things..."

"Draco," Harry hissed, as Nott continued to babble. "Tell Nott to take the Imperious curse off of you." He mentally crossed his fingers and hoped this would work.

Draco, obeying orders, turned obligingly to Nott. "Nott, take the Imperious curse off me."

Nott raised his wand, smiling dreamily. "Of course, Draco. I'll do anything you want. Finite Incantatum."

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

There was a pause, and then Harry watched as Draco's eyes slowly focused, took in Harry's bound body on the stone floor and then narrowed.

"I told you I'd do anything for you, Draco," Nott continued, completely unaware of what had just happened. "Did I tell you - "

Nott never got to finish that sentence, because at that moment Draco reached out and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

"I'll kill you," Draco growled, and then he threw Nott as hard as he could against the opposite wall. Nott was no match for the super-human strength of an angry veela, and he crashed against the stones like a rag doll. He slid down, blood trickling down his face, before hitting the ground unconscious.

Draco took a step toward him, but then remembered his mate on the ground behind him.

"Harry!" he cried out, and with staggering steps he ran to Harry's side. Reaching down, he ripped the ropes that bound Harry apart with his bare hands, and then clutched at the Gryffindor desperately.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he moaned, and Harry, bewildered by Draco's sudden mood swing from furious to distressed, quickly sat up and reached for him, pulling the distraught veela into his arms.

"Shhh, I know, its okay, it wasn't your fault," he murmured soothingly, smoothing Draco's hair and kissing his head. He could smell the strong scent of vodka heavy on Draco's breath, and figured that even though Draco wasn't under Imperious anymore, he was apparently still very drunk and confused.

Harry wondered for a fleeting moment why Draco's veela powers, which he could tell were still flaring out of corner, weren't affecting him. Then, out of the corner of his eye he saw that Ron and Hermione were stirring and standing up, rather blank looks on their faces.

Suddenly Draco stiffened and pulled back.

"What? What's wrong?" Harry asked anxiously.

"You hate me," the blond said softly, beginning to tremble again.

"What? No I don't," Harry said quickly, alarmed as more tears began to spill down Draco's cheeks and Draco's trembling became full-fledged shaking.

"Yes, you do. You hate me because of what I did to you, and what I said to you," Draco whimpered. "And you should, I was horrible to you. You hate me and you don't want me anymore."

"Draco, that's not true!" Harry said, aghast, reaching out for the crying veela.

"Don't lie to me, Harry! I know you hate me, and I know you've found someone else!" Draco said with a heart-wrenching sob, scooting back on the floor away from Harry. He buried his head in his knees and continued to cry.

Ron and Hermione had been making their way over to the pair but now they paused, looking back and forth between Harry and Draco, unsure of what to do. Draco's veela powers had shut themselves off in his despair, and now they were just standing in the middle of the room, staring down at Harry and Draco.

"Take care of Nott," Harry mouthed at his friends, pointing at the body on the other side of the room. Ron and Hermione exchanged a quick glance and then nodded, before heading over to deal with Nott.

Harry had been overwhelmed with guilt at Draco's words, even though he realized that there was no way Draco knew about what had happened with Cho. Determined to fix things somehow, he crawled over to the crying veela and wrapped his arms around Draco.

"Draco love, you're still drunk and you've had your mind screwed with, so please, believe me when I tell you that none of that is true. None. What on earth would make you think I hate you?" he said, as calmly as he could, stroking Draco's hair while the veela remained rigid in his arms, silently fearing that Draco was about to lose the very last shreds of his sanity.

"Nott," Draco sniffed. "Nott told me right before he gave me the portkey. He said you - "

"Portkey? Draco, what portkey?"

"The portkey that's going to take me to the Dark Lord. He said - "

"Shit," Harry swore, panic rising his chest. "Draco, where is the portkey?"

Draco sniffed loudly and wiped at his eyes. "I don't know, Harry, I couldn't understand him. He was telling me that you...that you hated..." and here Draco broke down sobbing again, trying to wrench himself out of Harry's arms.

Harry's heart broke for his poor veela even as he held Draco as tightly as he could and refused to let him go. He wanted to comfort the blonde, but he had to find that portkey. "Draco, listen to me. Where is the - "

"I DON'T KNOW!!" Draco wailed. "I don't know, okay? All I know is that you hate me and I hurt you and kicked you and hexed you and you hate me and I can't...I can't...oh God, I can't take it..." Draco's voice trailed off as his body went limp in Harry's arms.

"DRACO!" Harry cried out, but it was too late. Draco was unconscious.

"Draco, Draco please, wake up, wake up," Harry said urgently, shaking him gently. Nothing happened. Draco just continued to lay still, chest slowly rising up and down.

"Hermione, what happened to him?" Harry called out, anguished, holding Draco's unconscious form close to him.

To his fury, it wasn't Hermione's voice that answered him. "Guess Draco's just a weak little baby, eh Potter?"

Theodore Nott had regained consciousness, and was lying on the floor with Ron and Hermione's wands pointed straight at him.

A murderous rage tore through Harry. He very gently laid Draco's body against the stone floor and he slowly stood up. He walked purposefully over to Nott and kicked the Slytherin with tremendous force. Nott cried out in pain, but Harry just reached down and grabbed the front of Nott's shirt, yanking him to his feet.

"I should kill you," Harry hissed through clenched teeth, as he drove his fist as hard he could in Nott's stomach. Nott groaned and doubled over, but somehow managed to hiss words out through his teeth.

"You can never win, Potter. The Dark Lord wants that veela, and he's going to get him."

Harry unhesitatingly smashed his fist into Nott's nose, and the sickening crunch of bone breaking was heard.

"Want to keep talking?" Harry said, his voice low and menacing. "Because believe me, I would love to keep hitting."

Thinking better of it, Nott just shook his head, wincing.

"Good. Now listen up: if you ever get out of Azkaban I want you to tell your Master to keep his slimy hands off my veela."

Nott, to the immense surprise of the three Gryffindors, began to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Ron asked. Nott looked very demented, leaning there against the wall, blood flowing out of his nose, laughing hysterically.

"You think you've won, don't you?" he finally choked out. "You've think you've saved Malfoy from the Dark Lord? You couldn't be more wrong."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Harry said, a cold knot of dread forming in the pit of his stomach.

Nott seemed to be losing control, and just continued to laugh. "The Dark Lord will have Draco, oh yes, he'll have him. He'll have him in about...oh, I would guess about one minute."

"You're lying," Harry snarled, grabbing Nott by the hair and yanking his head up.

"Sorry Potter," Nott practically giggled, looking up into Harry's eyes. "I'm not lying. Hey, I'm not...I'm Nott...get it?"

Harry wasn't listening. He had turned to stare at Draco's body, his eyes raking up and down the veela's unconscious form, because Draco's words had just barreled back into his head...before he gave me the portkey...before he gave me the portkey...the portkey...

And then he spotted something that looked completely out of place on Draco, a huge, ugly medallion around Draco's neck.

"Shit!" he swore, sprinting over to Draco. Not knowing how many seconds he had left before what he was sure was a portkey activated, he grabbed the medallion on Draco's chest and pulled as hard as he could.

The fine gold chain that the medallion hung on snapped and the medallion came loose in his hand.

"Hey Nott!" Harry hollered to the still maniacally laughing Slytherin, "CATCH!"

And with that he threw the medallion as hard as he could at Theodore Nott. Nott, reacting instinctively, reached out -

- and as the portkey medallion landed in his outstretched hands it activated, and Nott disappeared from the classroom.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Ron and Hermione stood speechless for a moment on either side of where Nott had just stood not ten seconds before.

"Jesus Christ, Harry," Hermione finally said. "That was insane."

Harry didn't even hear her. He was too busy leaning over Draco.

"Draco, love, wake up, please wake up," he begged, running his hand through Draco's hair and down his cheek. "Draco, please."

Hermione and Ron exchanged a quick glance before quickly moving to Harry's side.

"What happened to him, Hermione?" Harry said, looking up at his best friend with big, worried green eyes.

"You tell me," Hermione said. "What happened while Ron and I were unconscious?"

Harry bit his lip, and then related what Nott had made Draco do. Hermione nodded thoughtfully.

"In that case, it was probably just the combination of everything that made him pass out," she said, kneeling down next to Draco and scanning him for injuries. "He was already a mess and then he got piss-drunk and Nott fucked with his mind. He thought you didn't want him anymore."

A wave of guilt and worry flooded through Harry. "Is he going to be okay?"

Hermione smiled at him weakly. "Physically, yes. Mentally..." she trailed off for a moment.

"Oh God, what?" Harry asked, taking Draco's limp hand in his own.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. We won't know until he wakes up. But Nott did a major mind fuck on him, that's for sure. He might get really sick."

"What should I do? I'll do anything for him."

"Just take him back to his room and stay with him. He needs his mate, so don't leave him under any circumstances. He'll probably be okay after a good night's sleep, but don't take any chances."

"I wouldn't have left him right now for any reason anyway," Harry said hotly, reaching one arm under Draco's knees and the other under his arms. He stood up, holding the unconscious veela in his arms.

The friends made their way towards the door of the classroom.

"So you two will tell Professor Dumbledore what happened so I can put Draco to bed, right?" Harry said, and Ron and Hermione nodded, and then Hermione hesitated for a second.

"Harry, do you, um, want one of us to spend the night in Draco's room with you?" she said, and Harry looked at her.

"Why would I want that?"

Hermione looked uncomfortable. "Well, it's just...it's just that as long as Draco's still got all that vodka in his system, his veela powers might still be out of control."

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning if Draco does wake up tonight, and he wakes up in bed with you in the middle of the night, he might..." Hermione didn't need to finish the sentence. Her meaning was quite clear.

Harry looked panicked for a second but took a deep breath, and then a look of determination settled into his eyes. "I don't care. If anything happens, I'll just deal with it."

Hermione looked very serious. "You can't get upset with him. He's going to be incredibly fragile as it is, and if he has to deal with his mate getting angry with him again - "

"I won't. I told you, I don't care if anything happens. He can do whatever the hell he wants to me. I just want him to be okay."

"Actually, Harry, it might help him heal," she said softly, and Harry's eyes widened slightly as he grasped what she meant.

"Ugh, can we not talk about this?" Ron said, breaking the tension. "I mean, it's not that I don't love you Harry, but you and Malfoy...gross."

Ron's comment broke the tension, and Hermione and Harry both snorted in laughter. They said their goodbyes, Ron and Hermione heading to the right to the headmaster's office, and Harry heading to the left to the dungeons and Draco's room.

''''''''''''''''''''''''

Harry carried Draco to his room, muttered the password to the dragon portrait, and then once inside laid him gently on the bed. Going over to Draco's closet, he pulled out Draco's favorite silk pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, and took them back over to the bed.

Harry tenderly set about getting Draco into pajamas. He slowly untied and removed each shoe, followed by each sock. Harry had just leaned down to take off Draco's jumper when the blonde made a soft noise under him.

"Draco? Are you awake?" Harry asked, a bit anxiously, but there was no response. Realizing that Draco was probably dehydrated, he ran into the bathroom for a moment, and emerged with a glass of water and a wet washcloth. Sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Draco, he leaned down and put his hand behind the blonde head.

"Draco, I need you to drink some water, okay?" he said softly, lifting Draco's head up slightly and holding the glass of water to his lips.

Draco didn't respond but he did drink, gulping down most of the water in the glass. Harry laid him back down on the pillows, set the glass on the nightstand and then picked up the wet washcloth.

Working carefully, Harry began to gently wipe the sweat and dried tears off of Draco's face. Beneath him Draco's breathing deepened and evened out as he relaxed in his sleep under Harry's gentle touch.

When Harry was finally satisfied that Draco wouldn't wake up sticky, he put the washcloth down and again reached for the hem of Draco's sweater.

Harry slowly pulled the sweater off Draco's torso, revealing inch after inch of Draco's smooth, porcelain skin. Tossing the sweater onto the nearby arm chair, Harry took a moment to take his first really good look at Draco, the veela that had chosen him as a mate for the rest of their lives.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered in awe. To Harry, he was the most stunning thing the Gryffindor had ever seen. There wasn't one thing about the blonde that Harry would have changed. Reaching out, almost unconsciously, Harry began to run his fingers lightly over Draco's torso, over the soft, velvety skin and hard muscles of his chest and stomach.

Draco moaned a little in his sleep, and the sound made Harry's blood run hot.

"You like that?" he murmured, and leaned down and placed a kiss on Draco's chest, loving the feeling of Draco's skin warm against his lips. Draco arched slightly into sensation, trying to prolong the contact. Emboldened, Harry began to place more kisses on Draco's chest, kissing up to his collarbone and running his tongue along the hard ridge before trailing back down. He paused at one of Draco's nipples, flicking his tongue out and swirling it around. Draco moaned faintly again, his fingers clutching at the bedspread.

Seeing Draco's reaction, and desperately wanting to make the blonde feel good, Harry set about kissing and licking every inch of Draco's body. He covered his chest with kisses, bit each nipple gently, licked his way along Draco's ribs and swirled his tongue in circles around Draco's belly button, loving the little noises of pleasure that were escaping Draco's lips.

Reaching the top of the blonde's pants, Harry didn't hesitate. He unbuttoned and unzipped the tailored slacks, and slowly slid them off Draco's hips, down his legs, and over his feet. Beginning at Draco's ankle, Harry slowly began to kiss his way back up Draco's legs, alternating between each one, trailing his tongue over Draco's knees, inching his way up Draco's thighs, until he reached the hem of Draco's black silk boxers.

"Harry," Draco whispered, and Harry looked up. Draco's eyes were closed but his breathing was heavy, and the bedspread was twisted in his hands. With a start and a flood of blessed relief, Harry realized that Draco was at least partially awake.

And then it hit Harry - if Draco was at least a bit awake, that mean that he had no idea whether he was doing all this out of his own free will or because of Draco's veela powers.

More importantly, though, Harry realized that he really didn't care.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Draco wasn't completely conscious of anything right now. He didn't know where he was, what he was laying on, or how he had gotten here. The only thing he was truly aware of was that his mate was taking care of him and was now touching him, placing kisses on every inch of his body.

Draco managed to say Harry's name, and he felt Harry stop for a moment. That was torture, losing that feeling of contact that he had been longing for.

He whimpered, and then felt Harry move into place next to him, one hand burying itself in Draco's hair and then his lips coming to rest against Draco's cheek.

"Shh, don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," Harry whispered reassuringly, nuzzling against him. Then Draco felt what must have been the most exquisite feeling of his life - Harry's hand beginning to touch him through the silk of his boxers.

Draco let out a moan that would have woken every roommate he had, if there had been anyone else in the room. He turned his head and buried it into Harry's neck, breathing in Harry's scent as Harry continued to touch him. Then he felt Harry's hand slide under the waistband and onto his bare skin, and Draco bit down on Harry's neck to keep from crying out again.

After a moment Draco had a sense that he should be reciprocating and made a move to get up, but Harry gently pushed him back down against the pillows.

"Just lay still," he said softly, sliding his free hand through Draco's hair, creating delightful sensations that made the blonde melt. "Let me do it."

Nodding slightly, Draco gave in, and lay there in a cloud of pleasure created by Harry's hands. Just when Draco thought he couldn't hold back one moment longer, Harry whispered "You're mine, Draco," and reached behind his head and pulled him up for a possessive kiss.

Harry's words and the feeling of Harry's lips against his own sent him over the edge and he came, gasping against Harry's lips.

And in that hazy aftermath, Draco felt Harry pulling him tightly into his arms, laying the blonde head on his chest and stroking his hair. He could hear Harry murmuring sweetly, and while he couldn't make out the actual words he knew they weren't important. What was important was that he was here, in Harry's arms, and that he had his mate back.

17  Bookworms

When Harry woke up the next morning, he immediately realized two things: one, he was still fully dressed, and Draco's jeans were definitely not his first choice of sleeping attire.

Two, his arms were still around Draco, who had pressed himself as close as humanly (or veela-ly) possible to Harry, his hands clutching at Harry's clothes and his face buried against Harry's chest.

A wave of tenderness flooded through Harry, as he remembered the horror of the night before, how Draco had completely broken down after being forced to curse him. Harry carefully moved one hand from Draco's waist to his head so he could play with Draco's soft blonde hair.

"He had such a bad night. Poor baby," Harry couldn't help but think, even though he knew Draco would probably be highly pissed off if he ever heard Harry refer to him as "baby." If he had ever had any lingering doubts about wanting to be with Draco, then the events of last night completely shattered them. Draco loved him so much that hurting Harry literally made him pass out. How many people in their lifetimes would be loved like that?

At that moment Draco stirred, and Harry looked down anxiously at him.

"Draco? Are you awake?" He tried to keep his voice neutral, but he was worried about lasting effects on Draco's mind from the night before.

Draco groaned something unintelligible into Harry's chest and his grip on Harry's clothes tightened.

"I'm right here," Harry said reassuringly, kissing Draco's hair. "Are you alright?"

Draco pulled away from Harry just enough to mumble one word. "Head."

"Head? Oh, does your head hurt? I bet you've got a hangover from hell, poor ba - thing," Harry said, just barely staving off the urge to say 'baby.'

Draco made a noise that Harry took to mean yes, and buried his head back in Harry's chest. They lay together in a comfortable silence for a moment.

Then Draco suddenly shoved back from Harry and scooted as far as he could to the other side of the bed.

"Oh God…" he said, eyes wide open and scared.

Harry had been expecting this. "Draco, it's okay, I promise, it's okay, I - "

Draco's body was beginning to tremble. "Last night…I kicked you…I hexed you…"

"Listen, it's okay, you were under the Imperious curse, it's not your fault," Harry said hastily, moving closer. Draco jumped off the bed.

"But before…I forced you…I called you frigid…"

"It's alright, you were drinking, you didn't mean it," Harry said in the most soothing voice he had, sliding off the bed and taking a step towards Draco.

The veela began to back up, and to Harry's horror his normally ethereal skin was taking on a greenish tinge.

"Go away, Harry!" Draco shouted desperately. "You don't want to be near me."

"Yes, actually, I do," Harry said softly, still advancing on Draco. "I want to be as near to you as I possibly can be."

"No you don't! You can't! I don't deserve you, I don't," Draco had hit the wall, and was looking trapped and panicked. "Oh God, what have I done?"

"You haven't done anything," Harry said firmly, reaching Draco at the wall. "You're freaking out because of stuff that isn't your fault!"

Up close, Harry could see that Draco was definitely turning green. Worried, he put one hand on the wall next to Draco's head and reached out towards Draco with the other, but the veela slid down the wall before Harry could touch him, hugging his knees to his chest and burying his head in his knees.

"I hate myself."

"Draco!" Harry admonished, dropping down on one knee next to Draco. "Don't say that! Now stop worrying, I think you're making yourself sick."

"I deserve to be sick," Draco mumbled. "I hit you and forced you and insulted you and…oh God, I don't feel so good," he moaned, suddenly trying to strand up. Harry gently pushed him back down.

"It's okay, just relax," Harry said softly, but Draco shook his head.

"No, can't, think I'm going to…" and with that he suddenly leapt up and dashed into the bathroom.

"Draco!" Harry cried out, chasing after him, only to find him hunched over the toilet, puking his guts out.

"Gross," the blonde finally said, collapsing backwards onto the floor. Harry dashed to his side and caught him around the waist before his head hit the wall, lowering them both safely to the floor.

Draco looked up at Harry from where his head was now resting on Harry's chest. "Do you hate me?" he asked pitifully. Harry smiled and shook his head.

"Haven't you been listening to me?" he said gently. "No, I don't hate you. A thousand times, no."

Draco's big grey eyes looked up at Harry uncertainly.

"I promise," Harry said, tightening his grip around Draco's waist in case the veela thought about trying to bolt again. He wasn't letting Draco go anywhere.

But Draco finally seemed to believe him, because his body relaxed in Harry's arms and he turned his head into Harry's chest and closed his eyes with a sigh.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Harry wasn't sure how long they stayed in that position on the bathroom floor, but Draco finally pulled back from Harry's chest to look up at Harry.

"I've been acting like a total idiot this morning, haven't I?" he said, a bit sheepishly.

Harry responded by squeezing him tightly and kissing his head. "No, considering what you went through last night. I'm just so relieved you're okay. I was so worried."

"Really?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. "Worried about little old me?"

"Are you kidding me?" Harry said, now nuzzling Draco's cheek. "I thought your brain was toast. Man, if I ever see Nott again…"

"You'll have to get by me first," Draco said darkly, his silver eyes glinting menacingly. "Because I'm going to kill that bastard. I'm going to rip his guts out and then strangle him with his own intestines."

"What a lovely mental picture," Harry said, sounding slightly disgusted.

"He hurt me, but worse, he hurt you. No one touches you and gets away with it," Draco said very seriously. "Not on my watch."

Harry had to smile. "That's kind of romantic, you know."

"Shut up. I'm a veela, I can't help it." Draco sighed and stood up. Harry followed his lead.

"So what do you want to do now?" he asked.

"Take a shower," Draco replied. Then he made a face. "And brush my teeth. My mouth tastes like shit."

"Okay," said Harry, a tad uncertainly. After last night, which he had no idea if Draco remembered, a large part of him was very tempted to join Draco in the shower. "I guess I'll wait in your bedroom."

Draco immediately turned to him. "Wait, would you just…stay in here with me?" he asked, blushing slightly. "I mean…I just…God, I hate this! I'm so fucking needy and it's driving me crazy!"

"Hey, it's okay," Harry said in what was beginning to become his all-purpose veela soothing voice. "It's fine."

Draco perked up. "Really?"

Harry nodded. "Really. Get in the shower, and I'll come right back in," he said, slipping out the door.

''''''''''''''''''''

Feeling very much relieved, Draco brushed his teeth (three times) and then started the shower. Sliding off his boxers - which, curiously, were the only article of clothing he was still wearing - he slipped into the hot water.

A moment later, Harry, true to his word, came inside and sat down on the floor next to the shower. Draco was embarrassed to admit, even to himself, how much better it made him feel to have Harry there.

After a moment, he heard Harry's voice.

"You alright?"

"Yes," Draco called back, closing his eyes in bliss as the hot water ran through his hair and down his shoulders and back. As he stood under the steaming water his mind drifted through several different thoughts, mostly about Harry. How Harry looked when he smiled, how Harry looked when they kissed, how Harry looked as he licked Draco stomach, how Harry -

Wait.

Draco's mind suddenly snapped back to a very interesting mental picture of Harry. Harry was kissing and licking Draco's stomach, and his hand was touching Draco somewhere that Draco was pretty sure Harry had never actually touched. Unless…

Well, that would explain when he was only wearing boxers this morning.

"Hey Harry?" Draco said suspiciously, poking his head out from the shower curtain. "What happened after I passed out last night?"

Harry seemed to be slightly distracted by the sight of a wet Draco, but he answered anyway. "I hit Nott a couple times and then threw the portkey at him, so he got portkeyed to Voldemort."

"Not that part - although good to know, I was wondering. I mean, after that."

"Um…I brought you back to your room." Was that the faintest hint of a blush on Harry's cheeks?

"After that."

"Oh. Um…" Okay, that was definitely a blush. Harry was now rubbing the back of his neck and looking vaguely uncomfortable. Draco put two and two together.

"Did you take advantage of me when I was drunk?" he asked, incredulous.

Harry's guilty face was the only answer he needed.

"Harry James Potter!" Draco scolded, more out of surprise than anything else.

"Wait, it wasn't like that, I swear!" Harry said desperately. "I was just going to put you to bed, I didn't mean - "

"Is that why I woke up in my boxers?" Draco wasn't mad - not one bit - but this was such an unexpected reversal of situations that he was going to milk it for all it was worth.

"Well, I was going to put your pajamas on, but then I got…um…distracted…because…um…"

"You better have a damn good reason, Potter, else I'm going to be very angry with you." A total lie, of course, but Draco was curious.

"I couldn't help it!" Harry burst out. "You're just too fucking hot! I couldn't keep my hands off you! And then you were moaning and clutching at the sheets and - God, you were just so hot." And here Harry closed his eyes tightly, presumably at the memories of the night before.

Inwardly Draco gave a little cheer, but outwardly he sighed morosely. "I know I'm hot. But that's not a good enough reason. I was drunk and unconscious, Harry. I would have thought a Gryffindor would be more honorable than that." He made sure to let his voice wobble just a little.

It worked. Harry looked horribly distraught and jumped up from the floor.

"Oh Draco, I am so sorry," he said, his eyes shining earnestly. "I wasn't thinking. Please, I didn't mean to. Forgive me?"

"I don't know, Harry," Draco said, biting his lip uncertainly.

"Oh please, Draco. Look, let me make it up to you. I'll do anything you want."

"Anything?" Draco said, raising an eyebrow.

"Anything!" Harry promised.

"Well, I guess I could forgive you if…"

"What?"

Draco suddenly smirked. "If you get in this shower and take advantage of me again."

Harry's mouth dropped open as he realized that Draco had just completely played him. "Oh, you're in trouble now, Malfoy."

And without even stopping to get undressed, Harry jumped into the shower with Draco, who squeaked as he suddenly found himself pressed against cold tiles.

"Bad veela," Harry scolded softly, as his eyes began roaming up and down Draco's naked body.

"You love it," Draco returned, his voice husky.

"You're right," Harry agreed, and then his lips met Draco's.

Whether it was the after effects of the vodka in his system or just the knowledge that Harry had ravished him the night before Draco wasn't sure, but in that instant he lost control of his veela powers. Harry immediately began grinding up against him, pinning him against the shower wall, tongue plundering Draco's mouth.

Horrified, Draco desperately turned the powers off, but not before the damage had been done. He watched as Harry's dilated pupils returned to normal, guilt surging through him.

Harry stared at him, a strange mix of emotions playing in his eyes.

Draco bit his lip. "I'm so sorry, Harry," he whispered, pushing Harry off of him. He pulled the shower curtain back and was about to leave when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked.

"Away from you," Draco responded.

"Why?" Harry asked, still holding Draco's arm.

Draco gave him an angry look. "Because I'm still having trouble controlling my powers! Do you want a repeat of last night?"

"Well…yes."

Draco blinked. Harry was serious.

"Look, Potter, you don't understand - I can't control these powers right now. You need to let me go, for your own safety. Please Harry," Draco begged. He could feel his control slipping again, the sight of his soaking wet mate standing in the hot steamy shower infecting his blood like a disease.

To Draco's surprise, Harry shook his head. "I don't want you to control them," he said quietly.

Draco was positive he hadn't heard right. "What?"

Harry's cheeks colored slightly, but he met Draco's eyes defiantly. "I don't want you to control them. I want you to use them."

"You want me to…"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"You won't get mad at me?" Draco asked hesitantly.

Harry looked rather guilty at how worried Draco was at the thought of Harry mad at him. He pulled hard on Draco's arm, drawing the blonde into an embrace.

"I won't get mad, baby, I swear."

"You promise?"

"Cross my heart."

Draco looked like he was about to give in, then -

"Potter, did you just call me baby?"

Oops.

"Oh, shut up and turn on your veela powers, Draco," Harry said, ignoring Draco's suspicious look. "That's an order."

It wasn't really an order, not in the sense that Draco's body obeyed it without question. But there was something erotic to Draco about the way those unlikely words floated off of Harry's lips, and the tiny thread of control he had on his veela powers snapped.

Instantly the world was reduced to nothing but two bodies, clutching at each other in the steamy confines of the shower. Lips met lips like magnets, and though water streamed into their mouths as they kissed they neither noticed nor cared, too focused on the other.

Harry's clothes were soaked completely now, and Draco was doing his best to get them off, yanking at Harry's shirt and ripping off the buttons of his jeans. Harry wasn't making it easy; his hands were too busy roaming over every inch of Draco's skin.

"So soft," he managed to say when their mouths parted, as Draco pulled the sodden t-shirt over Harry's head.

"What's soft?" Draco said back, taking advantage of their momentary pause to yank off Harry's jeans and boxers.

"Your skin," Harry whispered, falling on top of Draco, pressing their naked bodies together. Both boys let out moans of pleasure at the sensation of skin on skin.

Harry kept Draco pinned to the tiles of the shower even as his hand slid down the flat planes of Draco's stomach to grasp him tightly.

"Yes, fuck, Harry," Draco hissed. Harry began to kiss Draco again, and then moaned against Draco's mouth as the veela's hand found its way up Harry's thigh to return to the favor.

"Fucking…amazing…" Harry managed to pant out. He was positively on fire with pleasure.

"Yeah," Draco panted back, speeding up his hand. They continued to kiss, tongues battling with each other, until they found themselves shuddering in each other's arms and hanging on to the walls of the shower for dear life.

'''''''''''''''''''''''

When Harry's mind finally cleared, he realized that he and Draco had slid down the wall of the shower and were now leaning again the smooth porcelain. He was cradled between Draco's legs, his head resting on Draco's chest. He smiled when he realized that Draco's heart was thudding and that his chest was heaving up and down. He was in the same state himself.

They lay there together in silence for a few minutes, before Draco finally said something.

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"I mean…wow."

"Yeah."

They lay in silence a moment longer, before Draco asked the question that was burning in his mind.

"Harry?"

"Hmmm?" Harry responded, nuzzling against Draco's chest.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you suddenly all over me? I thought you didn't want to…you know."

Harry sighed and sat up from Draco's chest and looked seriously into the blonde's eyes. "Because I almost lost you. Because the shock got me over my fears and made me realize how much I really wanted you. What if Voldemort had succeeded? What if you disappeared forever? I don't want to lose you, Draco. I need you."

Draco suddenly felt a tightness in his throat. "You need me?"

Harry blushed slightly but nodded. "Yeah."

"You're just sucking up to my veela half," Draco said gruffly, trying to ignore the fact that his heart was suddenly light as a feather and he felt sure that at this moment he could fly without a broom.

Harry laughed, and the sound was literally music to Draco's ears.

"Whatever you want to tell yourself," Harry said playfully, reaching for the shampoo. "Now lean forward so I can wash your hair."

"What do I need you to wash my hair for? I can wash my own…oh wow…oh, that feels good...mmmm…"

'''''''''''''''''''''

A little while later Harry and Draco were dressed and lounging again on Draco's bed.

"So what do you want to do today?" Draco asked.

"Read."

Draco blinked. That wasn't the answer he had been expecting.

"Read?"

"Read."

"Okay…"

Harry took pity on his confused state. "I'm sick of everyone knowing more about veela than you and me. We're the ones who are in this, and I just keep getting all these little bits of information from other people. And half of what they tell me isn't even true."

"Who told you something that wasn't true?" Draco asked.

"Oh, Cho said - "

And then Harry promptly clapped a hand over his mouth.

It was too late.

"Oh, Cho said something to you, did she?" Draco's voice was cool like ice. "Pray, tell me Potter, what did your little ex-girlfriend have to say about veelas?"

"Nothing important," Harry said weakly.

"Are you lying to me, Harry?" Draco asked dangerously. Harry saw that his eyes were glinting again and his face had hardened. A stab of guilt and worry hit Harry hard in the stomach - he knew that the last thing Draco needed right now was to suffer jealousy over Harry's ex-girlfriend.

Harry was saved by a blessed noise - Ron and Hermione's voices and their knocks on the portrait.

"Harry? Malfoy?"

"You guys in there?"

Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry. "This isn't over," he hissed, and then stood up and made his way over to the portrait.

"Hey Granger, Weasley," he said, opening the portrait. To his enormous surprise Hermione threw her arms around him in a hug and Ron looked very relieved.

"You're alright. Thank God," Hermione said, before letting go. Draco looked at Harry in shock.

"You guys were really worried about me, weren't you?" he said, sounding genuinely astonished.

"Of course we were," Hermione said angrily. "Last night was horrible. We weren't sure if you would recover."

"You were out cold last time we saw you. Of course we were worried," Ron added.

Draco looked back and forth between Harry, Ron and Hermione's earnest faces, and felt rather touched. It was nice to be cared about.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Hermione had brought food and the book she wanted Harry to read, and the four of them spent a peaceful afternoon in Draco's room, reading various books on veela. Lucius had sent Draco a copy of every book on veela he could find, so there were a lot of books to choose from.

Draco sat in his armchair with his feet propped up on the bed, reading Understanding the Veela in You, the book Nott had quoted at him. Hermione claimed Draco's desk and had several books spread out, mostly concentrating on a very old and tattered book titled Veela Magick: Spells and Enchantments. Ron and Harry had sprawled out on either end of Draco's bed. Ron was reading Under Your Spell No More: Teaching Yourself to Resist the Power of a Veela, and Harry was reading Everything a Veela's Mate Should Know - more specifically, reading and re-reading a chapter titled How to Control Your Veela.

Right before dinner time, Draco suddenly slammed his book shut loudly. The other three occupants of the room started.

"I hate being a veela," Draco said, in a sulky sort of voice.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione exchanged looks.

"Um…okay. Why's that?" Harry asked uncertainly. Draco sighed.

"Well, I guess I don't really hate it. It's just these books make me sound like I'm some kind of animal."

"Don't say that!" Harry burst out, angry. Draco looked startled at the vehemence of his response. Harry just continued. "You're not an animal, do you understand?"

"Yeah. You've just got a diversified gene pool," Ron added, then smirked. "Let's just say you're pureblood-challenged."

"Shut up, Weasley," Draco snarled, but Ron was having fun.

"Actually, if you really are an animal, maybe Harry should get a leash and collar and keep you for a pet. What do you think about that?"

"Ron!" Harry wasn't pleased.

Ron just smiled. "Oh, Malfoy knows I'm just kidding around, right Malfoy?" Draco didn't look convinced, but Harry did.

"Well that's okay, then," Harry said, looking back down at his book.

Ron took the opportunity to catch Draco's eye. "Not kidding," he mouthed at the veela, just to wind him up. "Leash and collar," he mouthed again, making a circle around his neck with his fingers.

"Least I've got money," Draco mouthed back.

Ron narrowed his eyes, but Hermione just sighed.

"Don't bicker, you two," she said. "Draco, what did you read that made you say that anyway? Did you read something about mating season?"

"No, I was reading about how veela can recognize the smell of their mates when - wait, did you just say mating season?" Draco asked, a horrified look floating across his perfect features.

"Well, yeah," Hermione looked back and forth between Harry, Ron, and Draco's stunned faces. "Wait, you guys didn't know that veela have a mating season?"

Speechless, the three guys in the room shook their heads.

"Oh. Well, veela go through a mating season in late winter or early spring," she explained.

"Fuck me. A mating season?" Draco leaned his head back and closed his eyes with a sigh. "I'm going to go through a mating season. Fucking hell, I am an animal."

"I told you not to say that!" Harry scolded. Then he turned to Hermione. "So what happens during mating season?"

"Crazy, mad increased sex drive. And veela also get more jealous and possessive."

"More jealous and possessive? Oh great," Ron said sarcastically. "So instead of sending half the student body to the hospital wing he's going to send all of us. Something to look forward to."

"Sod off, Weasley," Draco said irritably. "I'm actually going to have to live through this."

"He's right, Ron. This will be hard for Draco. We need to be supportive about this kind of stuff," Harry added.

Ron didn't miss the smug smile of triumph Draco shot in his direction.

"Brat," Ron mumbled under his breath so only Draco could hear. Draco narrowed his eyes, and opened his mouth for a response.

"If you two are quite done with your childish antics," Hermione interrupted, before Draco could say a word. "It's dinner time. Shall we go down to the Great Hall?"

"Yeah," Ron replied, checking his watch. "But I want to put my bag up in my room first."

"Oh, well I'll come with you up to the tower then. Harry, Malfoy, you two will meet us in the Great Hall?"

"Of course," Harry replied, immersed back in his chapter. Draco nodded.

"Great," Hermione responded, and she and Ron slipped out the portrait.

"Mating season," Draco mumbled, rubbing his temples. "Bloody hell."

Harry sensed that Draco needed a distraction, and thanks to everything he'd read that day, he was pretty sure he had one.

"Hey Draco?"

"Hmmm?"

Harry sat up on Draco's bed, took a deep breath, and said in the most authoritative voice he could muster: "Touch your nose."

Draco stared at him for a moment, and then laughed outright.

"Sod off, Potter," he said, shaking his head. "It's not going to work." He closed his eyes again, severely underestimating the sheer will power of Harry Potter.

"Draco, I said touch your nose," Harry tried again, trying to remember exactly what the book had said about controlling the tone of his voice to mimic a life or death situation.

"You can't do it, Harry," Draco said in a condescending voice, not bothering to open his eyes. "Give up while you still have a shred of dignity left."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Draco Malfoy," he said commandingly, and Draco snapped to attention. "I told you to touch your nose."

And sure enough, Draco's hand flew up of its own will and connected with Draco's nose.

"Fuck," the blonde swore.

"YES!" Harry shouted, raising his fist triumphantly in the air. "I did it!"

Draco was not nearly so pleased. "Don't get all cocky, Potter. You got lucky and did it once. Woo hoo," he said, irritation dripping from his voice.

"Aww, is ickle Dwakkie angwy?" Harry teased.

"Potter, I'm warning you," Draco snarled, standing up from his chair. "If you think you can ever do that to me again, then you are sorely - "

"Draco, sit down."

And Draco sat.

"You were saying?" Harry asked, with a look so smug that Draco felt the urge to hit him.

"Son of a bitch," he swore again, looking murderously at Harry.

"This is great," Harry said enthusiastically, completely ignoring Draco's furious glare. "I can't believe I can actually do this. Oooh, what else can I make you do?"

"Potter, don't you dare," Draco growled, but Harry wasn't listening.

"Stand back up," he ordered, and against his will, Draco stood.

"Yes!" Harry said in triumph. "Now jump."

"What the FUCK?"

"I said jump," Harry said again, in that tone of voice.

"God damn it," Draco swore, even as he obediently jumped. "Potter, if you don't stop this instant - "

"Now say 'Harry Potter is a sex god."

Draco clapped both hands over his mouth before the words could escape.

"Hrry Pmrph ssx gmrr," was all that was heard.

"Again."

Draco clamped his hands tighter against his mouth.

"Hrry Pmrph ssx gmrr."

"Draco Malfoy, are you trying to disobey your mate?" Harry asked sternly.

"Fuck you," Draco spat, removing his hands.

There was a sudden silence, and Harry's eyes went wide as Draco's words caused something unexpected to occur to him.

"Holy shit…" he said in a wondrous tone of voice. "I could do this to you during sex."

You could have heard a pin drop in the room as both boys grasped the full meaning of this. Intrigued and mischievous green eyes met horrified grey ones.

"You wouldn't," Draco protested, taking a step backwards.

Harry took a step towards him. "Wouldn't I?"

Draco shook his head and began to back up faster. "You're a Gryffindor, Gryffindors don't get off on kinky stuff like that."

"Ah," said Harry, eyeing Draco hungrily, "but the Sorting Hat wanted to put me into Slytherin."

"It what?" Draco said in shock. "I don't believe it. You're Harry fucking Potter, there's no way you could have been in Slytherin."

"I swear it's true," Harry replied, and Draco, seeing the truth in Harry's eyes, decided his best course of action at the moment might be, simply, to run.

He lunged for the door, nimble veela reflexes letting him dodge around Harry.

"Yeah you better run, Malfoy," Harry said, leaping after him. Draco was faster but he couldn't get the portrait open in time, and Harry grabbed him around the waist and pulled him down to the ground.

Harry quickly straddled Draco and pinned the struggling veela's wrists on either side of his head. "Look what I've got here," he purred, his faces only inches above Draco's. "I've got a veela completely at my mercy."

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Potter?" Draco growled up at Harry. "24 hours ago you stomped out of here completely pissed off at me because I used my veela charms on you, and now you're talking about making me your fucking sex slave!"

"Guess the power went to my head," Harry leered. "And as for making you my sex slave - if I'm not terribly mistaken, Draco dearest, you're getting off on the idea."

Draco groaned. It was true. He was hard as a rock.

"Not my fault," he said desperately. "I'm a textbook Slytherin, we're supposed to be kinky."

"Indeed," Harry said thoughtfully. He smiled wickedly. "Kiss me."

Draco didn't move.

"Draco, I said kiss me," Harry ordered again.

Again, Draco didn't move.

A tiny little inkling of worry began bubbling up in Harry's stomach. "Draco, say hello," he said, trying a different command.

Nothing happened.

Draco suddenly smiled evilly. "You've lost it, haven't you? Forgotten what you're supposed to do? Can't make it work any more, can you Potter?"

"That's not true!" Harry denied, although he was inwardly cursing. "I can still do it. Close your eyes!" he ordered desperately. "Stick out your tongue! Count to ten!"

Draco did nothing but gaze up at Harry with his evil smirk.

"Fuck," Harry swore.

Draco chose that moment to shove Harry as hard as he could, and Harry, caught off guard, tumbled off Draco onto the floor.

"Well, well, well," Draco said, looking at Harry with raised eyebrows. "Who's in trouble now?"

There was a moment of tension as Harry and Draco looked into each other's eyes, the roles of predator and prey reversed.

Then Harry jumped to his feet and bolted for the door.

"Yeah you better run, Potter," Draco called out, and chased him out the portrait.

18  Gryffindor Prefect

Draco caught up with Harry in a corridor not far from the Great Hall, pouncing on him from behind and nearly knocking him over.

"Gotcha," the veela said, and in one smooth movement he had turned Harry and had him pinned securely against the wall, one wrist in each hand on either side of Harry's head. "That was a nasty little game you just played with me. I think you owe me an apology, Potter."

"Not on your life," Harry responded defiantly, trying to break free of his veela bonds. "As soon as I figure out what went wrong, I'm going to do it to you again."

Draco lifted one eyebrow. "Brave words from someone in your position. Perhaps you need a little...persuasion."

And with that, Draco turned on his veela powers.

Draco had noticed that his powers didn't affect Harry exactly the same way as they did everyone else. With Harry, there was no gibberish, or spouted promises and lies. Instead, there was a feverish, consuming lust, and right now was no exception. Harry's pupils immediately dilated, and he began straining against his captor, no longer trying to break free but trying desperately to get his lips on Draco's skin.

It made Draco feel almost feverish to see Harry lusting after him like that, and he had to take several deep breaths to remind himself that he had to resist, that he was supposed to be punishing his mate for his earlier actions.

Even if they turned you on, his mind felt compelled to add.

"Fuck off," he told his mind. And then he sucked in his breath; Harry had just managed to reach his neck, and was kissing and biting the soft skin. It was almost his undoing, the feel of Harry's lips on his skin, but with a great effort of will he pulled himself together and turned the powers off.

He watched as Harry's stunning green eyes slowly became more green than black.

"So? Do we feel like apologizing yet?"

Harry shook his head no, but it was weak, the lust was evident in his face.

"Are you sure?" Draco asked sweetly, putting just a little bit of veela power behind the words. "There's nothing you want to say to me?"

Harry screwed his eyes tight shut, and his chest heaved up and down. "Only that if you don't turn off your veela powers right now," he breathed, "I'm going to jump you."

Harry's words set Draco's heart racing.

"Not much incentive for me to turn them off then, is there?" he whispered back, leaning forward to press his body against Harry's.

"Oh God," Harry groaned, body instinctively arching against Draco's, and that did it for the blonde. He let go of Harry's wrists to clutch at Harry's hair. Harry's arms immediately went around Draco's waist, and the next thing Draco knew he was being pushed backwards towards the door on the opposite wall of the corridor.

He crashed against the door with considerable force, but he hardly noticed; Harry had just started kissing him, and the sensation of Harry's tongue against his own was way more important than a little bruise.

Blindly feeling his way behind him, he found the knob of the door and turned. The door swung open and he and Harry stumbled into the empty classroom, lips still locked together. Harry continued to push Draco backwards until they hit a large desk, and Draco fell onto his back with Harry on top of him.

Harry pulled away then, and Draco opened his mouth to protest - whether the loss of the kiss or the fact that he was the one on his back, he wasn't sure. But then Harry ripped open his belt and plunged a hand down his trousers, and Draco forgot to care anymore.

''''''''''''''''''''''

Harry and Draco finally made it into dinner a little while later, falling all over each other with matching goofy grins. Ron glared at them from the Gryffindor table.

"I don't even want to know why you're late," Ron said shortly, as Harry and Draco made it to the Gryffindor table and sat down, Draco practically in Harry's lap.

"Oooh, I do," Hermione said.

The three boys gave her startled looks.

"Er, I mean...gross," Hermione said, quickly picking up a book and burying her nose in it.

Harry and Draco quickly dished up their food and began to eat. Draco took two bites of his Shepard's pie and then abandoned it in favor of a plate of brownies. Harry watched him with a sappy look on his face.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Is it good for Blondie over there to eat just sweets?" he asked Hermione.

"No, actually. He'll probably make himself sick," she answered, setting down her book.

Harry looked at her with concern. "Is that true?"

Hermione nodded. "He's only part-veela, you know."

Harry looked at Draco with worry. "Um, Draco?"

"Mmres?" Draco said, through a mouthful of chocolate.

"Maybe you should eat some more of your real food," Harry suggested. Draco swallowed his mouthful of brownie and took on a pained expression.

"But Harry," he whined, "I like chocolate better."

"I know, but it's not good for you to eat just sugar," he said worriedly. "Just a few more bites. Come on."

Draco shook his head. "No."

"Draco..."

"No."

Harry looked stumped. Ron raised an eyebrow.

"So that's it, Harry? You're going to let him get sick because you can't stand up to him? You're that whipped?"

"Ron, really," Harry said. Draco gave Ron a nasty look, and then turned to Harry.

"I'll eat it if you feed it to me," he said in a conciliatory manor.

"Oh yuck," said Ron. "Harry, for the love of Merlin, please don't. Some of us would like to keep our dinners down."

"Ron, try to be a little more understanding, alright? Veela don't like regular food as much as sugar, this isn't easy for him," Harry said shortly, reaching for a fork.

"I don't believe this," Ron said in disbelief. "You're going to feed him right here in public and make the rest of us watch."

"Something like that, yeah," Harry responded, getting a forkful of Shepard's pie. "Okay baby, open up."

Draco did open up, with the full intention of yelling at Harry that he wasn't a "baby," but Ron beat him to it.

"BABY? Harry, did you just call Malfoy BABY?" Ron looked beyond disgusted. "That is so gross."

Draco decided that as long as it bothered Ron, he no longer cared if Harry called him baby in public.

"Look, just because "Weasel" is the only pet name you'll ever get doesn't mean you should harass us. Now sod off and leave us alone," he said irritably.

"This is the Gryffindor table, and I'm a Gryffindor prefect. You sod off," Ron returned, just as irritable.

"Fine then. Come on, Harry, let's go," Draco said, starting to stand up, but Harry put a hand on his shoulder.

"Just let me talk to him for a moment, alright?" he said quietly. Then, in a louder voice, he turned to his best friend. "Ron, can we talk for a second? Over there?" he said, pointing towards the door.

"Fine. Whatever," Ron responded, and they got up from the table and walked a little ways away.

Draco watched them for a moment, and then rolled his eyes at Ron's retreating back.

"I saw that," Hermione said. "Honestly, you and Ron are like children."

"He starts it all," Draco said, childishly and untruthfully.

Hermione gave him a withering glance. Draco bristled. "It's true, he does. Look at tonight, all I was doing was - "

And then he paused, as Draco's hyper-sensitive hearing picked up the words "Harry" and "lipstick" coming from just a little ways down the Gryffindor table and he listened intently.

'''''''''''''''''

"Can you believe it, Parvati?" Lavender Brown was saying in an excited hushed whisper. "Harry Potter coming back to the Gryffindor common room with lipstick all over his face?"

"Oh my God," Parvati responded, her whisper equally excited. "You mean he was snogging someone else besides Malfoy?"

"Yes! Can you believe it?"

"What was Harry thinking? Malfoy's like, psycho-possessive, you know? If he ever finds out..." Parvati trailed off.

"Oh, he'll totally kill whoever it was. God, I wish it had been me. I'd love to snog Harry. Get my hands all over that body. Mind you, I tried, in the common room, but he kind of flipped out before I had a chance."

"You don't say," a cold voice hissed from above.

Lavender and Parvati looked up in fear to see Draco Malfoy glaring down at them, furious.

"M...Malfoy!" Lavender stuttered. "How...how long..."

"Long enough," Draco snarled. "Who was she?"

"W-what?" Lavender said, looking even more nervous.

"Who was she? Who was kissing my mate?"

"I...I don't know..."

Draco drew his wand. "Remember what I said last time, Brown? About what I'd do if you ever touched Harry again?"

"You said...you said you'd sever...oh my God," Lavender said, starting to shake.

"That's right. Now you've got exactly three seconds to save yourself if you tell me who this other bitch was. One..."

"But I really don't know!" Lavender wailed.

"Two..."

"She doesn't know, you arsehole!" Parvati snapped. "Leave her alone."

"Three. Too late, Brown. Next time, learn to keep your fucking mouth shut." He raised his wand. "Sever - "

"There you are, Draco. What are you doing down here? Did you finish dinner already?"

Harry had walked up behind Draco, completely missing the fact that Draco had his wand pointed straight at Lavender. Draco lowered his wand and whirled around, teeth clenched. Lavender immediately began sputtering.

"Harry, Harry save me, he's going to sever my hands!"

Harry looked surprised. "Don't be silly. Draco wouldn't do something like that."

"Yes he would!" Lavender said desperately. "Harry, you don't understand, he knows about - "

"I know about you and that slut, Potter. Last night. The one who left her lipstick all over your cheating face."

Harry's eyes grew almost comically wide. "Wait, Draco, I can explain - "

"I don't want to hear your fucking explanations, Potter."

"But Draco, it's not what you - "

"I SAID I don't want to hear you try to explain it!" Draco snarled, advancing on Harry. "Did you fuck her?"

"WHAT?? Merlin, no, she just - "

"She didn't just anything, Potter!" By now Draco's yelling had caught everyone's attention, and the Great Hall lay silent, watching their fight. "This bitch laid a hand on my mate, and you let her. I hope it was worth it. I hope she thinks it was worth it, because when I find her, I'm going to kill her."

And with that, Draco threw open the doors to the Great Hall and ran.

''''''''''''''''''''

"Shit, shit, shit, shit."

That was Harry's train of thought as he ran after Draco. This was the worst possibly moment for Draco to have found out. His mind was still so fragile after the horrible events of last night, and believing that his mate betrayed him could push him over the edge.

Terrified for Draco, Harry turned a corner, only to be slammed up against the wall for the second time that evening.

"You bastard," Draco snapped, and Harry's stomach twisted in guilt when he saw the tear tracks on Draco's face. "Was it the same fucking girl who kissed you before?"

"Draco, you have to listen - "

"Shut up and answer the question, Potter! Why are you protecting her? Do you love her? Do you?" Draco's eyes were frenzied, and he looked furious and frightened at the same time.

There was nothing for it. Harry took a deep breath and attempted his most authoritative voice. "Draco, calm down and listen to me."

And it worked. Draco immediately calmed down and closed his mouth. His eyes retained their crazed look, however. How could you? They asked Harry. How could you hurt me like this?

"Yes, it was the same girl."

"I fucking knew it," Draco said, but Harry raised a hand.

"Stay calm, baby, okay?"

"Don't you fucking call me baby, Potter."

"Draco, please listen. I don't want anything to do with her, okay? She found me after our fight last night. I thought she just wanted to talk, and then she kissed me. I pulled away immediately, and told her there was no chance in hell. That I was with you."

Draco looked at him suspiciously. "Then what happened?"

"We yelled at each other, and then I hit the wall and stormed off to the Gryffindor common room. She had left her lipstick on me, and Lavender saw it. And couldn't keep her mouth shut, apparently."

Harry reached out to touch Draco's cheek. He flinched slightly, but didn't pull away. "Nothing happened, Draco. I promise. You have to believe me."

Draco couldn't bear to look directly into Harry's pleading eyes. It hurt too much.

"Why won't you tell me who she is, Harry? Why are you protecting her?"

Harry hesitated. "I just... I feel like I owe it to her."

Draco's face took on a very hurt _expression. "But what about me? You're my mate, Harry. Don't you owe it to me to tell me?"

"I'm sorry," Harry said, and he meant it. He moved his hand to Draco's hair, and began running his fingers through the silky strands. "I'm so sorry. But I don't want her, Draco. I promise. I don't want anyone but you."

Draco was quiet for a moment. "You promise?"

"I promise," Harry said softly, still stroking Draco's hair. "You're the only one I want. For now and for ever."

And with a shuddery sigh Draco gave in, and collapsed against Harry's warm body, welcoming the strong arms that quickly wrapped around him.

"I promise," Harry whispered, and slid to the ground, still holding Draco in his arms.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''

The next day Lavender Brown was very, very, very careful to avoid Draco Malfoy at all costs. She snuck around the corridors, peered around each corner before turning, and spent a significant amount of time hiding in the girl's bathroom.

It was in the girl's bathroom where Parvati finally tracked her down.

"Lavender," she hissed in an excited whisper. "Lavender, are you in here?"

"Yes," Lavender said back, exited a stall. "What's up?"

"I think I might know who kissed Harry."

"Oh my God," Lavender said, pulling Parvati close. "Who?"

Parvati took a deep breath. "Well, you know how my sister Padma is in Ravenclaw?"

Lavender nodded.

"Okay, last night in the common room she saw Cho Chang pacing about, biting her nails and looking really scared. So she asked Cho what was up. And she said she was just a little stressed out. And after that she went up to her room and hid, and didn't come out again except for classes."

Lavender's mouth fell open. "You think it might have been Cho?"

"It fits, doesn't it? After all, she and Harry went out last year. Maybe she tried to win him back."

"But...but he's with a veela, is she mad?"

Parvati opened her mouth to answer, but the door swung open to the bathroom. She and Lavender immediately fell silent as none other than Marietta Edgecombe and Cho Chang walked into the bathroom.

"Hey," said Lavender, smiling weakly. Cho just nodded. She walked over to the sink and began to fix her hair. Lavender couldn't help but notice that her hands were shaking slightly.

"So, what's going on?" Parvati said as casually as she could.

"Not much," Marietta responded.

"Yeah," Cho echoed her, reaching into her school bag and pulling out her make-up kit. Lavender and Parvati exchanged looks as the final link fell into place as Cho began to put on her lipstick...

...which happened to be a very familiar shade of pink.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Ron watched in disgust as yet another dinner time fell upon the school and he yet again found himself watching a cuddling Harry and Draco make their way into the Great Hall.

"That is so gross," he said in an annoyed voice to Hermione, who shrugged.

"It's not so bad. They're a very cute couple, I think, what with Harry's black hair and Draco's blonde. Very pretty combination."

"It's not about how they look, they're both good-looking blokes. It's how they act. Or how Harry acts, at any rate, treating Malfoy like he's a sweet, cuddly bunny rabbit and not realizing that he's bullying the rest of the school."

"Well, to Harry he is sweet and cuddly, and Harry's gotten very protective of him. He gets upset when people think Malfoy's some kind of monster."

"He's a monstrous brat, that's what he is," Ron said, sounding very grouchy. "He's hexing people just because he can get away with it, I know he is. And have you heard what Harry calls him?"

"You mean baby?" Hermione said with an amused smile.

"Yes! For the love of all things holy - baby? This is Malfoy we're talking about. He's not a baby, he's a bloody veela, and he's horribly dangerous. He almost took off Lavender's hands yesterday!"

"I know," Hermione said, furrowing her brow. "And Harry's not doing anything about it. It's bad news."

"What's bad news?" Harry asked, as he and Draco sat down across from Ron and Hermione.

"Oh...nothing," said Hermione weakly as Ron glared at Harry.

Harry and Draco dished up their food and began to eat, Harry coaxing Draco to eat his chicken and ham pie by offering to feed it to him again.

"So, did you apologize to Lavender?" Ron asked curtly, before any feeding could take place. Harry looked surprised.

"Whatever for?"

"Whatever for? For letting Malfoy come within one syllable of removing her hands from her body!"

"Oh. That." Harry shrugged. "Well, he didn't actually do it, did he?" He picked up his fork to get a bite ready for a now very self-satisfied looking Draco, who discreetly stuck out his tongue at Ron.

Ron was outraged. "He very nearly bloody did, Harry! How can you just ignore how dangerous Malfoy can be?"

"Dangerous?" Harry shook his head lightly. "Don't be silly. Draco's not dangerous, are you baby?" he cooed, nuzzling Draco in an Eskimo kiss. "Just a little jealous, that's all." He held out his fork to the happy veela, who obligingly took the bite.

"Why...but...you...argh!" Ron said, so ticked off he couldn't even vocalize his feelings.

"Speaking of Brown, where is she?" Draco said conversationally, after swallowing, effectively cutting off Ron's rant.

"Gryffindor tower," Hermione, not quite hiding her annoyance. "Hiding from you."

"Is she now? Smart girl," Draco said, his eyes flashing pure hatred for a moment. By the time Harry turned to him with another bite, though, those eyes were all love and sweetness again.

The foursome continued to eat, until a tiny, trembling first year made her way over to where Harry was sitting.

"Um...excuse me, H-Harry," she said in a very small voice, and Harry and Draco turned to look at her, Harry with a smile and Draco with a menacing glare. "Could…could I possibly have your rolls, please, if you're finished?"

"Of course," Harry said, grabbing the basket. "Here you are."

And with that he handed the basket to the first year, who took it from him, their hands brushing over each other's for just a second during the exchange.

It was enough for a jealous veela.

"You little slut, are you trying to make a move on my mate?" he snarled, standing up.

The little first year girl began to shake. "N-n-no..." she managed to squeak.

"You filthy little liar. How dare you touch my mate like that," Draco sneered down at the girl, who burst into tears.

"I'm sorry!" she howled. "I didn't mean to!"

"Draco!" Harry scolded, but Draco paid him no attention.

"Do you know what I do to people who touch my mate?" Draco hissed at the first year, and whipped out his wand.

"Draco, let her alone!" Harry said, standing up. "She didn't do anything!"

"She touched you!"

"On accident! For crying out loud, she's only ELEVEN!"

Draco closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. When he opened them, he was all smiles at Harry again.

"You're right, love. What was I thinking? Only eleven, of course it was an accident..."

Harry beamed at him and gave him a huge hug. "I knew you wouldn't really do it." He kissed Draco on the nose and then turned back to his friends.

"See?" he said to Ron and Hermione, as he sat down at the dinner table again. "He's not dangerous at all."

The second Harry's back was turned, however, Draco whirled around to glare down at the little girl again.

"Looks like it's your lucky day," he whispered to her in his most dangerous voice. "But I'll be watching you. Very closely. And if I see you in the same room as Harry again, I'll hex you until you bleed. Now get out of my sight."

The first-year burst into fresh tears and ran.

Ron and Hermione dropped their mouths open in twin expressions of horror, as did every other occupant of the Gryffindor table other than Harry, who was blissfully unaware of what had just happened.

Draco smoothly sat down next to Harry and picked up his fork.

"You...you monster..." Ron finally managed to choke out. Harry's head snapped up

Harry's head snapped up. "Ron, don't fucking call him that!" Harry said sharply, his voice annoyed.

Ron wasn't listening to him. "How could you?" he asked Draco in disbelief.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Draco said haughtily.

"Christ, Malfoy," Ron said, his voice beginning to grow angry. "That girl was eleven."

"I didn't do anything to her, did I?" the blonde said icily.

"But what you said to her...how could you?" Ron's eyes were narrowed, and he was beginning to turn red. Draco rolled his eyes.

"I'm a Malfoy and a veela, Weasel. I can do whatever the hell I want." He stood up, and leaned over to kiss Harry on the cheek.

"I'll be in my room, love, if you want to come see me later." He glared at Ron. "Alone," he finished pointedly, and swept out the Great Hall.

Harry watched him go and then turned to Ron, his face very annoyed. "Look Ron, I don't know what your problem is."

Harry should have realized that when red-heads turn the color of their hair, as a general rule you should run for your life.

"You don't know what my problem is?" Ron said, his voice quiet and dangerous.

Harry shook his head and carried on, oblivious. "No, I really don't. I think you ought to be a little more sympathetic here. I mean, poor Draco is so jealous that he suspects first years of trying to make moves on me and - "

"Poor Draco? Poor DRACO?!?! THAT IS IT, HARRY!"

And with that, Ron lost it. He stood up at the Gryffindor table and began shouting.

"I have had enough of this SHIT! There is nothing POOR about MALFOY! He is a BRAT, a MENACE, and a BULLY, and it is YOUR JOB to KEEP HIM IN LINE!!"

Ron leaned over the table and grabbed the front of Harry's shirt. "I am a PREFECT, Harry, and I'm NOT going to allow this any more! If I EVER catch that veela threatening or hexing anyone again, it will be TWO HUNDRED House Points and a MONTH of detentions with FILCH for the BOTH of you! DO YOU UNDERSTAND???"

The entire Gryffindor table burst into applause. Ron didn't even wait to hear Harry's answer. He stormed out of the Great Hall, leaving a stunned Harry Potter in his wake.

And before Harry even had a moment to process what he'd just heard, Professor Snape was at the Gryffindor table.

"My office, Mr. Potter. Right NOW."

Head spinning, Harry obediently followed Snape out of the Great Hall.

19  A Chat with Snape

As soon as Snape and Harry had left the Great Hall, Hermione took off after Ron. She didn't have far to go - Ron was pretty predictable when he was angry.

Sure enough, she found him just outside the main doors of the castle, sitting on the bottom step of the stairs, angrily pulling up the grass at his feet.

"Hey," she said quietly, sitting down next to him on the steps. "That grass must have really ticked you off."

Ron rolled his eyes, but stopped his senseless murder of the Hogwarts lawn.

"I couldn't take it anymore," he offered by way of explanation. "I mean, honestly. That poor little girl. And Harry just won't see it!"

Hermione sighed. "It's not that he won't see it, Ron. He doesn't see it. The saying 'love is blind' exists for a reason, you know."

"I don't know about blind, but love definitely needs Harry's glasses," Ron said irritably. "How come he doesn't see it, then?"

"How come I always have to explain everything? Figure it out yourself," Hermione said, playfully nudging his shoulder.

Ron looked out across the lawn to the lake. "Because Malfoy's a stupid veela?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Okay, fine. Because Harry's in love with Malfoy, that's why he doesn't see all the crap Malfoy's doing to everyone else."

"Partly."

"Partly? What's the other part?"

"Malfoy is in love with Harry, and that's why Harry doesn't see it. All he sees, for the first time in his life, is someone who loves him. Really, really unconditionally adores him. Of course he's not going to see anything bad that Malfoy is doing."

Ron sighed. "Maybe. But in love with Harry or not, I don't approve of Malfoy hexing everyone, Hermione."

Hermione's gaze hardened slightly. "Me either. That has to stop, and now. But I have a feeling it's about to."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

Hermione grinned. "Snape."

''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"Sit," Snape said testily to Harry, who took a seat on the other side of Snape's desk, glaring at the Potions Professor. Snape paid the glare no mind. "Do you know why you're here, Potter?"

"Let me guess," Harry said sarcastically. "You're going to chew me out about Draco, am I right?"

"Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek," Snape snapped. "And yes, as it happens we are here to talk about Draco. Or rather, your insistent refusal to acknowledge what Draco is."

"And what is that? Besides, obviously, a veela?"

"Your mate, you stupid boy. This is so typical of you, Potter. You're so thrilled to be the mate of a veela, with all the good that comes with it. Did it never occur to you that you must take the responsibilities with it as well?"

"What responsibilities?" Harry asked irritably.

Snape rolled his eyes. "What world do you live in where you suddenly get the unconditional love of a beautiful creature without any kind of conditions? You think Draco is some kind of knight in shining armour who has swept into your life with his pretty face and his veela powers, and all you have to do is lay back and bask in his affections? This is not a fairy tale, Potter."

Harry gritted his teeth and attempted to be polite. "I still don't understand what you're talking about."

"Then listen. If Draco were part vampire, could you see how he could be dangerous to the other students?"

"Well, yeah," Harry responded. "He probably want to suck out their blood or something."

"Yes, he would. So if Draco were a vampire, and you were his mate, you can see that you'd have to exercise some control over him, to protect the other students from harm?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Alright, yes. But what does this have to do with - "

"If provoked, a veela can be as much of a threat as a vampire, Potter. You need to protect the other students from Draco. As Draco's mate it's your responsibility to him, to help him exist in a wizard society without hurting anyone."

"With all due respect, Professor, Draco is a wizard too."

"He is part wizard, Potter, and the veela in him is stronger than the human."

"What is it with everyone?" Harry snapped, angry. "Draco is as human as you or I! Why can't everyone else see that?"

"Did you ever stop to think that perhaps it is you who cannot see," Snape snapped back. "Draco is not human like you or I. There is nothing wrong with that. It only makes him different from us, not inferior. Or are you so arrogant that you assume anyone who is different from yourself is automatically your inferior?"

Harry seethed at Snape's words. "I don't believe he's my inferior, Professor."

"Nevertheless, you refuse to do your duty as his mate. He is not a pet, Potter. He's dangerous."

"Okay, first off I think of him as my boyfriend, not my pet," Harry said sharply. "Second, he is not dangerous, he's just - "

"Silence!" hissed Snape. "Yes, he is. Veela are extraordinarily dangerous creatures, and Draco is even more dangerous than other veela. Do you not think it odd, even for a veela, that he threatened an eleven year old the way he did tonight?"

Harry paused and thought.

"Alright, maybe it was a bit extreme," he finally said cautiously. "So why did he do it?"

"Because with you Potter, even the abnormal cannot be normal. When veela mate with wizards, normally they meet, easily seduce their mates, and live happily ever after. Normally. You and Mr. Malfoy, however, met and hated each other. For five years."

Harry gave a short nod. He knew this.

Snape continued. "Did you never wonder why he wouldn't leave you alone after you rejected him?"

Hesitating, Harry shook his head. "I just thought he hated me."

"He did. With a burning, passionate obsession. He was wounded to the core by your refusal to be friends. It hurt him deeper than any curse can ever go. And he hated you for it, because he loved you and you didn't want him."

"But I didn't know - "

Snape held up a hand. "I'm just telling you how the veela in Draco sees things."

Harry thought this over and sighed. "But he has me now."

"And he is terrified of losing you again. Don't you see? Draco is possessive beyond all reason because he is afraid. You rejected him once, for Ron Weasley no less, and he subconsciously he fears it is only a matter of time before you reject him for someone else again. He is at risk of doing serious injury to another student because of this fear."

Snape paused for a moment so Harry could think things over.

"You need to allay his fears, Mr. Potter. Reassure him. Coming back to him with lipstick on your face is not going to help matters in the slightest."

Harry glared at him through the rising guilt in his stomach. "That wasn't my fault."

"Are you so dim-witted you cannot sense when another is about to kiss you?" Snape asked in disbelief. Harry colored slightly, and Snape raised an eyebrow. "Well, I suppose if you are so blind that you cannot see the damage Draco is doing …"

Harry looked at Snape suspiciously. "Is he really that bad?"

"He has put more students in the hospital wing in the past week then the entire season of Qudditch so far. He would indeed have severed Miss Brown's hands had you not intervened when you did. He is manipulating the Slytherins, irritating the Gryffindors, terrorizing the Hufflepuffs - "

"Okay, okay. I get it," Harry said shortly, interrupting Snape. "He's been a very bad veela and I need to stop him. How am I supposed to do that?"

"Do not interrupt me again, Potter," Snape said warningly. "And as for stopping Draco, I suggest you use your abilities as his mate to give him something which you yourself so obviously lack: discipline."

"What?" Harry asked in shock. "I'm not going to discipline him. We don't have some freaky kind of S&M relationship here."

Snape closed his eyes and sighed. "Must everything be so black and white with you teenagers?" he asked, his voice pained. "I am not asking you to have, as you so eloquently put it, a "freaky kind of S&M relationship." What I am asking you to do is prevent Draco from hexing the other students. It will make him feel much safer and more reassured about your relationship."

"Um, okaaay," Harry said, confused. "I don't see how my…disciplining him, as you suggest, will make him feel more reassured."

"Think of it this way. If a parent does nothing to discipline their child, ironically the child feels unloved, because if the parent truly cared they would set limits and boundaries to protect them."

Harry was outraged. "I am not his parent!" he exclaimed angrily.

Snape's expression became even more pained, and he began rubbing his temples. "It was just an example, Potter. I realize that you are not his parent. But you are his mate, and you have a responsibility to him to take care of him. As long as you allow him to continue bullying the other students, he's going to feel like you don't truly love him."

Harry sucked in his breath. This was not good.

Snape sighed and set his hands back down on the desk, looking straight into Harry's eyes. "If you can't get that through your thick skull, then think of this: how long do you think the authorities will allow Draco to continue this behavior?"

Harry avoided Snape's eyes and shrugged nonchalantly.

"No clue? Very well, I will tell you. The next set of parents to complain about their child's suffering at Draco's hands will land you in suspension, expulsion, or even prison, Mr. Potter, depending on the strength of Draco's attack."

Harry's eyes grew very round. "What?" he whispered. Snape nodded.

"Oh yes. The law clearly puts responsibility for the veela's actions on its mate. If there was any way the mate could have prevented the injury, then they will be charged in the veela's place. And whatever happens to you, happens to Draco as well. They will send him with you."

Snape leaned forward. "Do you know what happens to veela in prison, Potter?"

Harry shook his head, speechless.

"They are kept in solitary confinement, where they cannot use their powers on other prisoners or guards. They are only allowed to see their mates once a month, from behind bars. And when dementors are present, they gather like vultures at the veela's cell, and feed almost constantly off their magical energy. Most veela go insane before the first week is up."

Harry stared at Snape in horror, his face ashen grey, his stomach sick.

"That is what will happen, if you do not exercise some control over Draco. Do you want to see him suffer like that, Potter?"

Harry shook his head "no" violently.

"Then take care of him. Surely, you can do that much."

Harry left Snape's office shaking.

'''''''''''''

After leaving the Gryffindor table, Draco had no intention of going back to his room. Not when Lavender Brown was alone in Gryffindor tower. They still had some unfinished business to attend to.

He sprinted up to the tower, spoke the password Harry had given him earlier in the week to the Fat Lady, and then entered the common room, which was nearly empty

Nearly empty, except for Lavender sitting in a chair by the fire.

"Brown," Draco said, his voice cold as ice. "I've been looking for you."

''''''''''''''''''''

Lavender froze. She knew that voice. Tha voice did not mean good things for someone who was alone, without her wand, about to face down an angry, jealous veela who thought she was after his mate.

She was beyond screwed.

"M-Malfoy," she choked out. Draco smiled nastily.

"In the flesh," he said sarcastically, with a short bow. "We need to talk."

"I didn't kiss him, Malfoy," Lavender said desperately. "I may have wanted to, but I wasn't the one who kissed him."

"No, you weren't," Draco agreed frostily. His wand was out and pointed at Lavender. "And I offered you a deal, last time, didn't I? I said I'd spare you if you could tell me who the other bitch was. So what will it be, Brown? Do you know who it is?"

Lavender visibly hesitated. She knew. She was 100 percent sure it was Cho. But could she really sell out the other girl to save herself?

No. Lavender had been sorted into Gryffindor, not Slytherin. And she may have been a gossip, but she wasn't a snitch.

"I've got no idea," she said bravely.

Draco raised an eyebrow. He'd seen her hesitate. She hadn't hesitated the night before, and now his suspicions were raised.

"Really, none whatsoever?" he said lightly. "In that case, you won't mind if I check, right?" And then before she had a chance to respond, he cried out, "Legilimens!"

And suddenly Draco was in Lavender's mind, scanning her memories and thoughts, slipping through them like warm breath through cold air, until he found one that intrigued him: a memory of her and Parvati in the girl's bathroom earlier that day.

"I think I might know who kissed Harry."

"Oh my God, who?"

"Well, you know how my sister Padma is in Ravenclaw…"

"You think it might have been Cho?"

And that was all Draco needed as all the pieces fell into place for him: Cho wore pink lipstick, Cho was Harry's ex-girlfriend, Harry's words I just…I feel like I owe it to her…

It was Cho Chang. Draco was sure of it.

"Thank you, Brown," he said politely, but his voice was dangerous and scary. "You've just made my job much easier. And I suppose, since I did say if you told me I'd spare your hands, I won't carry out my original threat."

Lavender stared up at him in horror and disbelief. "But…but I didn't tell you…"

Draco shrugged. "Not willingly, no, but I'm prepared to be generous." He turned to go, then turned back around. "Before I have my little meeting with Chang, however, I notice that you seem to have a bit of a problem remembering who Harry belongs to. Let me refresh your memory."

And with that, he pointed his wand straight at Lavender.

""""""""""""""""""

Harry was walking up to Gryffindor tower, Snape's words heavy in his mind. When he turned the corner and began walking down the hall, however, he noticed a commotion at the portrait.

"…get her to the hospital wing!" Seamus was saying, Lavender in his arms. He turned, and Harry saw Lavender and gasped. She was covered in painful looking boils on every square inch of her visible skin.

"What happened to her?" he said, horrified. Seamus glared at him.

"Your stupid veela, that's what happened to her," the Irishman spit. "Now move, so I can take her to Madame Pomphrey.

At Harry's voice, Lavender stirred.

"Harry?" she said, cracking one eye.

"It's me Lavender," Harry said, guilt and fear rising in his stomach. "Listen, I am so sorry - "

"Harry, you have to stop him," Lavender interrupted, wincing.

"What? What are you talking about?" Harry said, heart quickening just a bit.

"I didn't tell him, but he read my mind. He knows, Harry. He knows."

"What? What does who know?"

But with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Harry thought he could venture a guess.

Lavender's next words confirmed his worst fears:

"Malfoy, Harry. He knows about Cho."

'''''''''''''''''''''''''

Draco knocked on the portrait of the tall, dark-haired witch standing next to an even taller stack of books which marked the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room.

"Hello," he said pleasantly to the third year who answered the portrait. "Could you possibly get Cho Chang for me?"

The third year hesitated, so Draco gave her a slight push by turning on his powers.

"Please?" he said with his most charming smile, and the third year looked back at him, dazed.

"Okay, anything you want," she said agreeably.

"Only don't tell her it's me," Draco continued, turning his veela powers on even stronger. "Tell her Harry Potter wants to see her, alright?"

"Not Draco Malfoy. Harry Potter. Got it," the girl said. "Did you know I'm about to become the youngest Headmaster of Hogwarts ever?"

"Are you really?" Draco said pleasantly, if not slightly impatiently. "That's lovely. Now do be a dear and get Chang for me? Tell her Harry Potter is waiting for her in the empty classroom down the hall."

"Anything for you," the girl said, disappearing back in the portrait. Draco strolled casually down the hall and slipped into the classroom to wait.

''''''''''''''''''''

Cho warily stepped into the classroom just down the hall from the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room. She was curious as to what Harry could want. Hopefully Draco's jealous outburst yesterday had made him reconsider their relationship, and he was interested in getting back together with her.

"Harry?" she called out into the darkness. "Are you there? Did you finally decide to give me another chance and break it off with that animal you were seeing?"

From the darkness, a voice suddenly hissed, "Colloportus!"

And the door behind her slammed shut and locked. The candles lighting the room suddenly flared up, and Cho's heart dropped into her shoes as she came face to face, not with Harry, but with Harry's veela mate.

"Oh God," she whispered, as her body began shaking with terror. "Malfoy."

Draco had his wand out and it was pointed straight at Cho's heart. "You're dead, Chang," he snarled. "This animal, as you so quaintly referred to me, is about to kill you for trying to steal my mate."

Cho desperately reached for the one weapon every Ravenclaw has: their brain.

"Fine, kill me. See if Harry wants anything to do with you then," she said bravely, and was pleased to notice Draco's wand waver slightly. Her research on veela had taught her the biggest key to dealing with an angry veela: exploit their weak point - their mate.

"I'm sure Harry will just be so happy with you if you kill someone," she continued, her tone calculatingly sarcastic. "I'm sure he'll welcome you back with open arms. I can just picture the Boy Who Lived wanting to be the mate of a murderer."

Draco's eyes opened wide at that, and despite his extreme anger he knew Cho was right. Harry wouldn't want him to kill.

But he could still maim her.

His eyes narrowed again, and Cho, seeing this, began grasping at things to say.

"Don't do it, Malfoy," Cho warned. "Harry will hate you if you hurt me. He still cares about me."

"No, he doesn't," Draco spat, but his self-confidence was weakened. Cho was right; Harry hadn't told him about her. He probably did still care about her.

Cho pressed her advantage. "He does still care for me. I know it." She chose her next words very carefully. "After all, what would he want with you, half-blood? Filthy, animal freak."

It was cruel, Cho knew, cruel and low, to hit Draco with words like that. Words designed to cause the utmost shame in someone raised in their pure-blood culture.

But it worked.

Draco dropped his wand and took a staggering step backwards, as if he'd been hit by a physical blow. Burning tears welled up in his silver eyes as shame flooded his stomach. He had described himself like that to Harry, but to hear that slander from someone else's lips…he desperately grasped at his self-control, but all his years of pure-blood training told him Cho was right. He was a freak. A disgrace. A filthy animal. What could Harry ever want with him?

"DRACO!"

Draco and Cho both whirled around to see Harry burst through Draco's locking spell and into the classroom.

Harry quickly looked back and forth between the two of them, assessing the damage. His eyes scanned Cho first - angry, flushed cheeks, slightly shaking body, but otherwise completely unscathed. He flicked his eyes over to Draco - watery eyes, trembling lower lip, crushed expression. His own eyes narrowed.

"What just happened here?" he asked in a low voice. At the sight of Draco on the verge of tears, every protective urge he had was kicking in.

Cho spoke up to answer Harry's question before Draco could. "Harry, thank God you're here to save me!" she said dramatically. She pointed at Draco. "Your crazy veela was about to - "

"I didn't come here to save you, Cho," Harry interrupted coldly. He looked directly into Draco's eyes. "I came here to save Draco."

Draco blinked, obviously surprised by Harry's words.

Cho was also taken aback. "What on earth are you talking about?" she asked incredulously. "Malfoy doesn't need to be saved; he needs to be locked up."

After Harry's conversation with Snape, that was not the smartest thing Cho could have said.

Harry tore his gaze away from Draco to glare at Cho. "Get out," he spat.

Cho blinked. "What? But he threatened me, Harry!"

"So what?" Harry snapped. "You're perfectly fine and you haven't been hexed, so get out. I've had it with you. Take your dirty lies and your prejudices and get the hell away from me and Draco."

Cho made some sputtering, indignant noises behind him, but Harry really didn't care. He walked over to Draco and touched his cheek.

"You okay?" he asked softly, registering the slam of the door behind him as Cho left in a huff.

Draco screwed up his eyes, willing himself not to cry.

"Draco?" Harry whispered. "What did she say to you?"

"Half-blood," Draco whispered back, unable to fight it as one tear escaped and fell down his cheek. "Filthy, animal freak."

Harry responded by crashing into him, wrapping both arms around Draco's waist and kissing him as hard as he could.

"No," he finally whispered fiercely, against Draco's lips. "Beautiful. Perfect. Mine."

And then all of the tears that Draco had been fighting so hard escaped, and began to fall down Draco's cheeks in streams. The blonde attacked Harry's mouth with his own, pushing Harry backwards until he slammed up against the wall.

Harry wasted no time getting Draco's belt and zipper open. Holding Draco's head in one hand, he agilely spun them around, reversing their positions, cushioning Draco's head against the stones with one hand. His free hand snaked its way into Draco's pants, and in a matter of minutes Draco was coming, biting into Harry's neck to stifle his cry.

Not taking even a moment to rest, Draco spun them back around, pinning Harry firmly to the stone wall and yanking open his trousers. And then in a move that was completely unexpected by Harry, Draco dropped to his knees.

Harry's eyes flew wide open for a moment, before they rolled back in his head and shut tightly. His hands scrabbled uselessly for something to hold onto on the flat stone wall as his legs began to tremble. It was all wet heat and tongue and veela powers and -

It was less than a matter of minutes before Harry saw stars. His knees buckled and he fell, grabbing for Draco's shoulders, desperately trying to keep from hitting the ground.

And then Draco's arms were around him tightly, holding him up, and he knew that Draco never would have let him hit the ground in the first place.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''

After resting a moment, collapsed as he was on top of Draco, Harry moved so that he was sitting against the wall, pulling Draco with him. He pulled the blonde securely against him with his back to Harry's chest and his body between Harry's legs. Harry wrapped his arms tightly around Draco's waist, and pressed his cheek up against Draco's.

They cuddled in silence for a moment before Harry kissed Draco's cheek.

"Thank you?" he said playfully, and Draco grinned.

"You're welcome. You know," he said casually, "they say imitation is the sincerest form of gratitude." Harry laughed.

"I think the saying is 'imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,' you git."

"Oh. Well in that case, feel free to flatter me anytime," Draco returned impishly.

"Your wish is my command," Harry said, and this time Draco laughed.

"Actually, your wish is usually my command, not the other way around."

"And don't you forget it," Harry muttered, nuzzling the soft skin of Draco's cheek. Then he sighed. "We have to talk."

Draco sighed as well. "I figured as much," he said, playing with Harry's fingers that were wrapped so securely around his waist.

"I saw what you did to Lavender, Draco," Harry said, and he felt Draco stiffen ever so slightly in his grasp.

"Are you mad at me?" Draco asked in a small, pitiful voice. Harry knew Draco well enough by this point to know that a good part of that smallness and pitiful-ness was clever play acting, but he still felt guilty.

"No, I'm not mad," Harry said, kissing Draco's head. "It would hardly be fair of me to be mad at you after I've let you hex everyone and their dog up until now with no consequences."

"Up until now?" Draco wasn't sure he liked the sound of that.

"Up until now," Harry said firmly. He tightened his arms around Draco. "Look, Draco…I had a talk with Snape just now…"

Harry carefully relayed everything Snape had told him. Draco listened intently until Harry was finished.

"So, we could go to prison for this?" Draco said, mulling everything over in his mind.

"Yes. And I can't…I won't…" he closed his eyes, a queasy feeling in his stomach as he remembered what Snape had said happens to veela in prison. "I won't ever let anything bad happen to you, Draco."

"I thought protection was my job," Draco pointed out. "I'm the veela."

"Yeah, but I'm the Gryffindor," Harry responded. "I'll do whatever I have to protect you."

"Even…discipline me?" Draco purred seductively, remembering the word Harry had said Snape used. Harry snorted.

"It sounds all sexual and kinky when you say it. Believe me, it doesn't sound sexy coming from Snape."

"Well, I don't get it. I mean, really, how exactly are you supposed to discipline me?"

"I don't know," Harry said, sounding honestly bemused. "Snape didn't give me any ideas. And I sure as hell wasn't going to ask."

"Well, I'm just running scared now, with that horrible threat," Draco said, smirking.

"Hey, I'll think of something," Harry protested. "And it will be horrible, and you won't like it at all. So no hexing the other students anymore, got it?"

"Whatever," Draco drawled, laying his head back against Harry's chest and closing his eyes.

Harry furrowed his brow. "What do you mean whatever?"

"I mean," Draco said lazily, "that I'm not worried. You couldn't discipline me if you tried."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge, Malfoy?"

"No," Draco said, eyes still closed. "It's a fact. Face it, Harry, you're a total softie. I've got you wrapped around my finger. You're not really going to do anything if I hex a couple other students."

"You better believe I will," Harry said warningly, his tone of voice making Draco's eyes fly back open. "If it's a choice between you getting punished or you going to prison, I think you can figure out which one I'll choose."

"Please," Draco scoffed. But he didn't sound quite as assured as before.

"I mean it, Draco. No more hexing. Promise me."

"Fine," said Draco, sounding rather put out. "I promise. Now can we just snuggle and talk about something else?"

Harry gently squeezed Draco in a hug. "Promise me one more time," he said, as he trailed kisses down Draco's cheek and neck.

"Aw, Harry," Draco whined.

"Please? For me?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "The things I do for you. Alright, I do solemnly swear that I won't hex the other students," Draco promised, and he really, honestly, one hundred percent truly meant it from the bottom of his heart.

Sort of.

20  Crime and Punishment

The cold, midnight moon shone through piercingly through the windows of Riddle Manor, illuminating the circle of hooded Death Eaters that stood listening to Lord Voldemort speak.

Lucius Malfoy held himself stock still, listening to the Dark Lord's plans, trying to memorize every detail to relay back to Dumbledore. Next to him, his long-time friend and fellow spy Severus Snape also listened closely.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Voldemort dismissed the Death Eaters.

"You may all leave," he said in his cold voice, "Except for Lucius and Snape."

Fear coursed through Lucius' body. Him and Snape? Oh God. Did the Dark Lord know?

"Snape, wait here for a moment. Lucius, come with me into the study."

Lucius took a deep breath as his heart beat a rapid staccato somewhere in his throat. If Voldemort knew…if he suspected…Lucius was as good as dead.

Schooling his features to show no fear, he followed Voldemort down the hall and into the spacious study. Nagini was curled as usual in front of the fire. The Dark Lord turned to face Lucius.

"Remove your hood, Lucius," he said. His tone of voice was unreadable.

Lucius slowly removed his hood, revealing his white-blond hair. Voldemort stared at him for a moment, before reaching out with one hand.

Lucius held his breath as Voldemort picked up one lock of Lucius' long hair and ran his fingers down the length.

The Dark Lord made a soft noise in the back of his throat. "Such hair you have, Lucius. The veela influence comes through most strongly here."

Lucius was rather at a loss for words. He had a nagging feeling that there was something, some memory he ought to have, about the Dark Lord and veela, but it just wasn't there. He remembered telling Voldemort about his heritage, and the Dark Lord receiving the news well before allowing him to go home.

So why was part of Lucius so angry and afraid right now?

"I have a favor to ask of you," the Dark Lord said. "A small thing."

"Anything for you, of course, my Lord. Big or small," Lucius said with a formal bow.

The Dark Lord nearly smiled. "Charming thing, aren't you," he muttered.

Lucius blinked. Did Lord Voldemort just call him charming?

"Thank you, Lucius, but it is a small thing. I need one of your hairs."

"One of my - "

"Hairs, yes. The hair on your head. Just one. I wish to…study it closely. Veela hair has many magical properties, you know."

"I'm hardly a veela, my Lord."

"Humor me, Lucius."

Obediently, Lucius reached up and grasped one of his hairs. Voldemort watched him intently as he pulled the fine, flaxen strand of hair out of his head. Lucius couldn't suppress a wince as he did so; it had always been particularly painful to pull out his hair.

Voldemort, however, actually seemed pleased when he winced. "Excellent, most excellent," he muttered to himself, then held out a hand. Lucius placed the hair on his palm, the whiteness of it a stark contrast against the Dark Lord's hand.

"You may go, Lucius," Voldemort said graciously. "Send Snape in as you leave."

As Lucius left the study, resisting the urge to rub at the tender spot on his head, he vaguely wondered why the Dark Lord had taken to always referring to him as Lucius and never Malfoy anymore.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''

"Oh please, Ron, please please please please please?"

It was an unusual scene for the Gryffindor common room. A large crowd of Gryffindors watched as a red-haired boy stood in the center of the room with his arms crossed, glaring down at a black-haired boy with glasses and an uncommonly good-looking blonde boy, who were kneeling in front of him and begging.

"I don't think so, Harry," Ron spat. "I told you what would happen if Malfoy hexed anyone else."

"Please, Weasley, I didn't mean too, I just got really jealous and Harry wasn't around to stop me!" Draco pleaded, clasping his hands in front of him in supplication.

"That's right, it wasn't his fault! I should have stopped him but I was talking with Snape," Harry added.

"But you never stop him, Harry," Ron growled. "Someone has to be responsible around here and stop all this hexing."

"I'm going to, I promise! Snape talked sense into me, Ron! I'm not going to let Draco hex anyone anymore!"

"Tell him about the discipline thing, Harry," Draco said, nudging Harry with his shoulder.

Ron looked at them skeptically. "What discipline thing?"

"I promised Snape that if Draco hexes anyone else I'll discipline him," Harry said earnestly. "And I will, Ron! I won't let him hex anyone else, and if he does than he'll be in big trouble with me."

"That's right," Draco agreed. "So I'm going to be a very good veela from now on, because I don't want Harry to punish me."

Ron appeared to be thinking this over. "How are you going to discipline him?"

Harry and Draco exchanged a look. "Well, I um…haven't decided yet," Harry admitted sheepishly.

Ron's gaze hardened. "Then no deal. You two are still getting the month of detention and the house points taken off."

"Awwww," the whole of Gryffindor house groaned.

"Wait!" Harry said hastily. "What if I let you help me decide on Draco's punishment.?"

"Harry, no!" Draco hissed, but Ron's attention was caught.

"Help you, eh?" He looked like he might be wavering slightly. Harry pressed on.

"Yes, you can help. We can come up with something really nasty," Harry promised, ignoring Draco's glare. He doubled his efforts at pleading. "Please, Ron, please. We're best mates. Remember the World Cup? The Tri-Wizard Tournament? Those were good times, Ron. Good times."

Ron looked like he was teetering on the brink of retracting the detentions. Harry struck the final blow.

"Think of Qudditch, Ron. We'll lose to Hufflepuff if I can't practice."

That did it.

"Alright, I'll change your punishments." Harry and Draco threw their arms around each other in a huge hug, and the Gryffindor common room cheered. "HOWEVER - "

Harry and Draco turned expectant faces to Ron.

"There are still going to be consequences," Ron said firmly. "First, I'm still taking 50 house points each. Second, Malfoy has to apologize to Lavender. Nicely."

Draco made a face but didn't say anything.

"Third, Harry has to punish Malfoy if there's any more hexing. And I mean that," he said, looking seriously at Harry. "And finally," Ron continued, looking at the pair sternly, "Harry can't stay the night in Malfoy's room anymore."

"What?" Harry and Draco gasped together.

"That's right. If I find out that Harry's not in his bed one night, I'll report it to McGonagall."

"But…but Weasley," Draco whined, sounding very upset. "I can't sleep without Harry."

"Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you hexed Lavender," Ron said shortly.

"For how long?" Harry asked, looking as upset as Draco.

"Until Christmas."

"UNTIL CHRISTMAS???" Harry said, aghast.

"But that's three weeks away!" Draco added.

"Suck it up, Malfoy," Ron said, unsympathetic. "Next time keep your wand in your pocket."

"This fucking sucks," Draco complained, and Harry had to agree.

"Ron, come on, be reasonable - "

"Sorry, Harry, but that's my final decision. Unless you want to take things up with Snape, McGonagall or Dumbledore, you're going to have to live with it."

And since Harry and Draco most certainly did not want to take things up with Snape, McGonagall or Dumbledore, they found themselves resigned to three weeks of lonely nights.

'''''''''''''''''

A few days later, Harry could be found just after curfew, moping by the fire in the Gryffindor common room.

"Oh, buck up, Harry," Hermione said, as she worked on her NEWT-level Arithmancy homework. "It's not like you don't see him everyday."

"Yes, but I miss him," Harry said plaintively. "He's so nice and warm at night."

"I'll just bet he is," Hermione said, looking amused. "And of course you miss the snuggling."

"I do," Harry said morosely.

"And the loving."

"Exactly."

"And the sex."

"Yes, of - Hermione!"

"Oh, what? Like that's not what you're missing most?"

Harry blushed and mumbled something under his breath.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't quite catch that. Come again?"

Harry bit his lip. "I said we haven't actually had sex yet."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. This was definitely more interesting than Arthimancy. "Ooh, Harry, why not?" she asked in a quiet voice, putting her book to the side and scooting close to Harry on the couch. "I'd have thought, with him being a veela and all…"

"Well, we were going to, but then Ron put this stupid ban on us," Harry replied in a heated whisper. "I mean, it's both of our first times, and it's a really big deal for veela. I don't want it to be all rushed and stuff. I want to, you know, wake up with him the next morning."

"Why Harry Potter, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were being romantic," Hermione said, putting a hand over her heart.

Harry colored slightly. "ANYWAY," he said, obviously desperate for a subject change, "Draco's birthday is right before we leave for Christmas Break, and I need to get him a present. I wanted something kind of special. Any ideas?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "Could you get one of the hairs from his head?"

"What, just pull it out?"

"No, he has to give it to you," Hermione explained. "Of his own free will. And he won't like it, because it'll hurt a lot to pull it out."

"Because it's magic and all that?"

"Exactly. It's painful for anyone who has active veela magic in their blood to pull out their own hair. But the hair has to be removed by free will; otherwise it will lose its magical properties. If you can get one of his hairs, though, then I know the perfect gift."

She indicated the book Veela Magick in her bag. "It uses a spell from in there. And trust me, he'll love it."

"You're the best, Hermione," Harry said, reclining against the couch, already dreaming about the clandestine snog session he was going to sneak during lunch the next day.

'''''''''''''''''''''

A couple days later, Ron, Hermione and Harry could be found sitting together at a large table in the common room, surrounded by several stacks of veela books stolen from Draco's room.

"There's got to be suggestions about veela discipline in at least one of these books," Hermione said practically, paging through a large volume titled Soulmates and Sirens: A History of Wizard-Veela Relationships.

"Yes," agreed Ron, looking at his own copy of Veela and the Wizarding World. "Hopefully suggestions like 'turn the bratty veela over your knee and administer a sound spanking.'"

"Ron!" snapped Harry, scandalized. "Don't be ridiculous. He's still my boyfriend. I'm not going to spank him."

"Pity," Ron muttered under his breath. After a moment's more searching, he turned to Harry.

"Harry, is this really all worth it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, is it worth it? Is really worth it to be with a veela? Is it worth it to have a boyfriend who's so jealous and possessive that you have be careful not to be alone with people he doesn't trust? Or one who's so dangerous you have to discipline him to keep him from hurting others on your behalf?"

Harry didn't hesitate, not for one second. "Yes."

Ron didn't look convinced. "But Harry…no offense meant, but he's a royal pain in the arse."

Harry smiled. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But most of the time he's so bloody wonderful I can't figure out what the hell I ever did to deserve him."

"If you can get past his brattiness, Ron, you'd see that he absolutely adores Harry," Hermione added. "Harry's his whole world. Sure he's a git to the rest of us, but he loves Harry, and that's what matters."

She grinned suddenly. "And don't forget he's got those veela powers. He's probably amazing in bed, and how hot is that?"

"Hermione!" Ron and Harry both gasped.

"Just kidding," Hermione said, in a tone of voice that left both Harry and Ron suspecting that maybe she wasn't kidding after all.

The three continued searching for several more minutes, until Harry made a noise and pointed at his copy of Visions of Veela by Gilderoy Lockhart.

"This isn't about discipline per say, but it's instructions on how to get a veela to do what you want. It says you should threaten to make them wear copper jewlry. What on earth does that do?"

"Veela can't stand how copper feels against their skin," Hermione explained. "It's actually quite fascinating, when you think about how metals like copper and iron has long been associated with Ares, the Greek god of War. It goes along with fighting and bloodshed - they're what weapons are often made of. Veela are the opposite of that - they're all about beauty, love and sex, like Aphrodite, the goddess of Love. Not to mention that copper interferes with the transmission of their veela powers, and veela don't like that much either."

"Thank you, Human Textbook," Ron said with a grin. "So you could make some copper handcuffs for Draco then, Harry. He'd hate that."

"NO WAY," Harry said emphatically. "Too mean. Try again."

"Hmmm…what about taking away something he really likes?" Hermione said, looking deep in thought. "Oh Harry, what would you say to sex?"

"WHAT?" Harry and Ron sputtered together.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Taking away something he really likes? Take away sex, Harry."

"Take away sex?" Harry looked scandalized. "Do you have any idea how hard that would be?"

"Actually, I think she's right," Ron said, looking sideways at Harry. "That would get him where it really counts."

"I don't know, guys…" Harry said, looking pained. "I think that might be one of those 'this hurts me more than it hurts you' punishments."

"I know it will be terrible, but it's supposed to be. Don't you want him to stop hexing people?" Hermione said earnestly.

"Well…yes, but - "

"Then do it, Harry."

Harry sighed. "Alright, fine. Besides, I probably won't have to do it anyway. He hasn't hexed anyone since Lavender."

"Only because you've been a dream boyfriend," Hermione said distractedly, scanning a passage in her book. Harry's cheeks flushed slightly as Ron gave him an amused look.

"Dream boyfriend?" Ron asked, a smirk quirking up the corners of his lips.

"I've been nothing of the sort," Harry protested.

"Mmm-hmmm," Hermione said. "That's why you've been waiting for him after every class with chocolate, walking him back to his room every night, being very careful to keep all your attention on him and nobody else…you're being very sweet."

Ron made a gagging motion with his hand. Harry folded his arms and looked cross.

"I'm not sweet. I just don't want him to get jealous, that's all," he mumbled.

"Whatever you say, Harry," Hermione said, and then held out her book. "There's one quick note in here I think you should read," she said, passing the book to Harry.

Harry read the passage out loud. "Be warned, for veela are often mischievous and manipulative, and adept at using their good-looks and power to worm their way out of trouble. If it should become necessary for a mate to discipline their veela, a firm hand will be needed."

"A firm hand? On Harry?" Ron asked, shaking his head. "We are so screwed."

''''''''''''''''''''''''

It was the next evening, right before dinner, and Harry and Draco were in Draco's room. Draco was in his armchair, reading a magazine, and Harry was laying on his stomach on the bed, pretending to do homework while actually working up the nerve to tell Draco about his decision.

"Okay, so, here's the deal," Harry finally said, hoping he sounded stern. Draco glanced up from his magazine.

"What deal?"

"The deal about your punishments," Harry continued. He remembered the book warning him that a firm hand would be necessary, and tried to sound strict and forbidding. "If you're bad and you hex anyone, I'm not going to have any kind of sex with you. I'm cutting you off."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Cutting me off?"

"Yes," said Harry firmly. "No kissing, nothing."

"Hmmm," Draco said, obviously trying not to smile.

"I mean it, Draco."

"Mmm-hmmm," Draco said, returning to his magazine, the corners of his lips twitching.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing…"

"Malfoy…"

"Okay, okay!" Draco said, setting down his magazine. "It's just that it would never work."

"What do you mean 'it would never work'?" Harry asked, a hint of a pout in his voice. "It would to. I think it's a dreadful punishment. It would certainly work on me."

"Look, Harry, it would never work, and I'll show you why," Draco said, smoothly standing up. Harry followed suit, standing up next to Draco's bed. "I want you to try and resist me."

Harry furrowed his brow. "Resist you?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, resist me," Draco said, his voice practically a purr as the blonde began slowly walking towards Harry. "Tell me I've been a bad veela and I can't have any kisses."

"You've…you've been…" Harry's mind began spinning as Draco's veela powers kicked in full force.

"I've been a bad veela…" Draco prompted, reaching Harry and wrapping his arms around Harry's neck, running his fingers through the hair at the back of his head.

"Mmm…bad veela…" Harry mumbled, closing his eyes and losing himself in the sensation.

"And I can't…" Draco whispered, leaning in until his lips were a breath away from Harry's. "…have any…kisses…"

"Can't…have…kisses…" Harry agreed, not even sure what he was saying anymore. The next instant, his lips closed the distance between his and Draco's and he was kissing the blonde, slipping his tongue into that hot mouth, wrapping his arms tightly around Draco.

Draco kissed him back for a moment, then pulled back slightly.

"And that, Harry," he breathed, his lips still only inches from Harry's, "is why it would never work."

And then he shut off his veela powers.

Harry's mind snapped back online, and he stared at Draco in disbelief. Draco just smiled angelically and went back to his armchair.

"I think you better come up with a better punishment, Potter," he said, picking up his magazine. "And for Merlin's sake, put a little effort into it this time."

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"It won't work."

Ron and Hermione raised their heads from their homework to find Harry standing above them, annoyed and frustrated.

"What won't work?" Hermione asked.

"The no-sex thing. Won't work. Total wash." Harry dropped onto a chair across from Ron and Hermione, looking rather cross.

Hermione and Ron exchanged looks. "Well, why not? What hap - "

"Bloody veela powers," Harry said. "I'm putty in his hands."

"Ooooh." Harry's best friends made a unified noise of comprehension.

"Right. Forgot about that part," Ron said thoughtfully. "That would make it difficult, wouldn't it?"

"You have no idea," Harry said bluntly. "He turns those stupid powers on, and I can't remember my own name."

"Hmmm…" Hermione said, thinking out loud. "I suppose we had better come up with something else then."

"I still like the spanking idea," Ron put forward.

"Ron, not that that isn't a good idea, but Harry already said that he - "

"I'll do it."

Ron and Hermione exchanged confused looks.

"But Harry," Hermione ventured, "you said - "

"I know, but this is serious," Harry said, sounding agitated. "I need to be sure he understands that he can't keep hexing people, so I need a punishment he's going to take seriously. And as much as I don't want to discipline him, I don't want him to end up in trouble with the authorities more. So, I'll do it."

While pretending to read his Potions textbook, Ron gave a silent cheer.

'''''''''''''''''''

Ron and Harry were walking towards the Great Hall after Transfiguration the next day, Ron's arm slung around Harry's shoulder as they heatedly discussed the latest Chudley Cannons match.

Draco was waiting by the entrance for Harry, a scowl on his face at their closeness. He fingered his wand in his pocket, trying to decide just how angry Harry would be if he hexed his best friend.

"Draco!" Harry called out, before Draco had the chance to decide.

Draco flashed Harry his most brilliant smile. "Hi Harry," he said sweetly. He turned to Ron. "Weasley," he spat in an annoyed tone.

Ron smiled wickedly at him. "Hey Malfoy, guess what?"

"What?" Draco asked in a bored tone.

"Harry's got a new punishment for you."

"Oh?" Draco asked, intrigued. "What did you come up with this time?" he asked Harry, adding cheekily, "I do hope it's a sight better than your last attempt."

"It is," Harry promised. "If you hex or jinx anyone else, Draco, you're getting a spanking."

Draco's eyes flew open wide. "A spanking?" he asked incredulously. "From you?"

"No, from Professor Trelawney," Harry said rolling his eyes. "YES, from me. And don't think I won't really do it, because trust me, I will."

Draco chewed on his bottom lip for a moment as his kinky Slytherin nature slithered up to the surface. "So you're saying that if I were to hex Weasley here - "

"Why on earth would you hex me, you stupid albino?"

"Because your arm is still on Harry and I don't like it," Draco snarled, glaring daggers at Ron. Ron rolled his eyes but was awfully quick to remove his arm from Harry's shoulders.

"So, I was saying," Draco said, looking much happier, "that if I were, hypothetically, to hex Weasley here, you'd spank me, Harry?"

"Er, yes," Harry said with a nod.

Draco licked his lips. "Fuck, Potter, that's kind of hot," he muttered under his breath.

"What did you just say?" asked Ron incredulously.

"I said, fuck, I better not get caught," Draco lied smoothly.

Ron looked relieved. "Good. For a second a thought you said…" he trailed off and shook his head, then turned to Harry. "So Harry, do you really think the Falcons are going to beat the Canons? I mean," he put his hand on Harry's arm for emphasis, "the Canons are doing loads better and - "

Draco's hex hit him square in the chest and he toppled over.

"Draco!" Harry cried out, sounding appalled. "What did I just tell you would happen if you hexed Ron?"

"But Harry, I don't like it when other people touch you," said Draco, the picture of innocence.

"I know, but…but…but now I have to…" Harry sputtered. He shook his head, and then reached down to help Ron to his feet. "I'm so sorry, Ron."

"Not your fault," Ron said, directing a scathing glare at Draco. "You know what's coming now, right Malfoy? You…you…bad veela, you."

"That's right," Draco agreed. "I'm a very bad veela. Now how about that spanking, Potter?"

''''''''''''''''''''

Harry was nowhere to be seen until nightfall, when he stumbled back into the common room one minute after curfew, hair a complete disaster, shirt half-buttoned, glasses crooked, and neck covered in red marks.

Ron and Hermione stared at him.

"Er, hi guys," he said, a dazed look on his face.

Ron narrowed his eyes. "Do I even want to know how the punishment went?"

"Oh, that," Harry stuttered. "Well, it seems that it's…um…not really a punishment."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Spanking's not really a punishment?"

"Not as such, no," Harry admitted, attempting to straighten his glasses.

"Not as…Harry Potter, did you guys turn Draco's discipline into some kind of sordid, kinky sex session?" Hermione asked sternly.

Harry's guilty face was answer enough. Ron and Hermione glared at Harry.

"I'm going to think of something that will really work, I promise!" Harry said earnestly.

His best friends looked at him in disbelief.

"I will," Harry promised. And he meant it. The question was…what?

'''''''''''''''''''''''

It was about one week later, and Harry was coming back from Qudditch practice with Ron and Hermione when he came across a scene in front of the Gryffindor tower that made his heart freeze.

Draco was there with his wand out, pointed straight at the little first year girl he had yelled at a couple weeks before.

"I told you to stay the fuck away from Harry," Draco was hissing, and before Harry could stop him a jet of light shot out of his wand.

"Draco, no!" Harry shouted. Draco whirled around, but it was too late. The little girl was on the floor, clutching her arm and crying. Hermione and Ron ran straight to her side, while Harry ran up to Draco.

"What are you doing?" Harry cried, grabbing Draco by both shoulders and looking straight into his eyes. "Are you crazy? Do you want to go to prison?"

"But Harry," Draco whined, "she was planning on finding you, for Merlin knows what deviant purposes."

"I…I just wanted to give him a m-m-message," the little girl howled. "From Professor McGonagall."

Ron and Hermione turned to glare at Draco. Harry tightened his grip on Draco's shoulders.

"Look, I understand, love, I do. I know you get jealous and that it isn't your fault," Harry said earnestly. "But you have to understand that you can't keep hexing people. You could wind up in serious trouble."

"But Harry - "

"No, listen. If you're worried or jealous or upset, come find me and I promise I will make it better. But don't hex the other person. It's dangerous, and you could really hurt someone."

"That's usually my intention," Draco grumbled under his breath. Ron made an angry noise and stood up, but Harry waved him down.

"Draco, I can't let you hex the other students," Harry said, very seriously. "You really could get in trouble, and I care about you too much to let that happen. You're too important to me, do you understand?"

Draco rolled his eyes, but he looked rather pleased all the same.

"Look," Harry said, almost hesitantly, "you know I've got to punish you for this, right? I promised everyone, and you have to stop doing this."

"Oh, please," Draco scoffed. "You haven't been able to come up with a decent punishment yet. You expect me to be worried right now?"

Behind Harry, Hermione and Ron exchanged looks. Draco was right. What on earth was Harry going to do?

Harry looked at a loss for a moment, biting his lower lip, his brow furrowed, eyes watching the ground. Then suddenly, his head snapped up, his eyes widened, and a look of inspiration blossomed on his face.

"I've got it," he said triumphantly. "The perfect punishment for you. Draco - no sweets tonight."

Two sets of confused Gryffindor eyes turned to look at Harry.

Two sets of confused Gryffindor eyes, and one set of horrified Slytherin eyes.

"What?" Draco gasped.

"No sweets. Nothing with sugar. No pudding, no tarts, no éclairs. No chocolate, ice cream, pasties, cakes, pies, creams, or candy. Nothing. Not even sugar for your tea."