Chapter: Christmas 09/10
Author: Beren (aka Didi)
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: This story is set post OOTP and therefore has SPOLIERS. If you don’t want to know anything that went on in book five do not read this story.
Summary: Harry defeated Voldemort: his act of heroism is famous throughout the wizarding world. He’s trying to finish his final year at Hogwarts in peace, but something peculiar is happening to him, something he never would have expected. It's all rather embarrassing and making his life very complicated.
Author's Notes: This fic has Veela!Draco and lots of other things that appear to have become fandom clichés, which was part of the point in writing it :). I've had great fun with this fic, trying to explore ideas in a slightly different way than I have seen before. It may have Veela!Draco, but it is all from Harry POV in case you were wondering. Thanks go to Soph for the beta. Sorry it's not quite the morning - Soph made me rewrite some of one scene, and boy was she right :).
Chapter 9 Christmas
It was the first year that Harry was truly free for Christmas; there were still Death Eaters out there, but precautions could be taken to keep them away which would have been ineffective against Voldemort. Hence, for the first time Harry was being allowed to go to the Burrow for Christmas; he only wished that the idea did not fill him with such panic every time he thought about it.
He smiled and tried to lose himself in celebration excitement each time Ron mentioned it in the last couple of days of term, but he could not completely shake the panicky depression that threatened at the idea of separation. When the day finally came to climb onto the train to return to London, Harry felt more like he was being ripped away from where he needed to be rather than going to his best friend's home for some holiday fun. He was so agitated that he only managed to sit with Ron, Hermione and Ginny for a few minutes before he needed to move.
"I'm going for a walk," he said, standing quickly as the desire to leave the compartment became too much. "I'll be back in a bit."
He didn't give any of his companions time to offer to come with him and disappeared into the corridor quickly. At this time in the journey when everyone had just found their seats, the hallways were empty and Harry began to make his way to the back of the train, trying to focus on the simple act of walking rather than the thoughts that were flying around his head. So caught up with not thinking was he, that until the door to the last carriage opened he had not even noticed the slight shift in his magic that always occurred in one person's presence. Draco froze in the doorway and Harry could only stare.
"Looking for something, Potter?" the Slytherin asked in what was almost a perfect impression of his usual tone, although Harry could hear the tension below it.
"Trying not to, actually," he replied quietly; "I thought you and the Slytherins were at the other end of the train."
"Not that I have any need to explain myself to you," Draco drawled in a superior manner, "but I needed something from the luggage car. What's your excuse?"
"I don't have one," Harry said pointedly.
That rather took the wind out of his companion's sails. As Harry had discovered over the last two weeks, sniping and yelling were mainstays of their adversarial relationship, but stark honesty was not something Draco was equipped to deal with. When Harry chose not to hide behind bravado and insults, the Slytherin didn't seem to quite know how to deal with him.
"Still pining over me, then?" Draco asked coldly, as if he didn't know.
Harry knew that the Slytherin was feeling at least some of what he was going through, but Draco had such a good mask that it was impossible to tell how much. Taking his Gryffindor courage firmly in both hands, he did the only thing that he could think about and stepping up to Draco he pushed the Slytherin against the side of the corridor, covering Draco's mouth with his own.
At first his companion froze, but as Harry flicked his tongue over closed lips, Draco's mouth opened allowing him access as the Slytherin melted into the kiss. It was the most wonderful feeling; the human part of Harry revelled in the feeling of acceptance and the Seraphim part basked in the touch of his mate. It was perfect, it was right, as tongues explored mouths and hard needy body pushed against hard needy body, but it did not last.
Almost as quickly as he had acquiesced to the tryst, Draco changed his mind and rejected it. Harry found himself shoved onto the opposite wall with the Slytherin leaning against the other, looking scared and confused. Draco was flushed and breathing hard; his clothes were mussed and his hair was no longer neatly brushed, but it was the fear in his eyes that pierced Harry's soul.
"No," Draco said, as if he was talking to himself more than Harry.
Then his mate was gone, almost running down the train away from Harry and the most desolate feeling welled up in Harry's chest. Slowly he let himself slide down the side of the train and he sat there staring at his hands, trying to contain the despair that flooded over him in waves.
Arthur had been at the station to meet them and Harry had just about managed to climb into the car as Draco was climbing in to a fancy-looking Rolls. The part of him that was Seraphim had screamed at him that he was letting his mate leave and it had not cared that it would only be for the holiday. Turning his back and slipping into the seat next to Ron had been harder than he had ever thought possible. He had spent the journey to the Burrow the same way he had spent most of the train journey; staring out of the window, answering any direct questions, but mostly remaining silent.
Waiting for them on the doorstep was Molly, who swept Ginny into a hug as soon as the girl was out of the car then moved on to Ron and finally came to Harry. He found himself wrapped in the woman's arms in a bone crushing embrace before being held back and examined.
"My, my, Harry," Molly said brightly, "when Ron said you had grown I had no idea how much. Those pictures in the Prophet did not do you justice."
He managed to smile at her and accept the scrutiny in good spirits, even if he had to try very hard to maintain the act.
"I can't get used to not being shorter than everyone else," he replied as cheerfully as he could, "and I keep forgetting to duck."
"I can imagine," she said, obviously pleased by his response. "Well supper's almost ready and I'm sure you must all be hungry."
There were murmurs of consent from all around and, as a group, they set about pulling their things from the car. Harry had just leant in to the seemingly never ending boot to pull out Ginny's holiday bag when two loud cracks sounded.
"Trouble has arrived," Ginny said cheerfully, but she was already running to greet the newly arrived Fred and George.
Harry continued emptying the boot, keeping his head down and knowing that sooner or later the comments would start. It wasn't that he minded the twins joking around, it was that he wasn't sure how much of it he could take at the moment, and he knew for a fact they would find his new appearance an irresistible source of amusement.
"Just look at you ..." Harry couldn't tell if it was Fred or George who spoke first, mainly because he still had his head in the car.
"Our Harry's turned into a stud," the other finished and as Harry fished the last item of luggage out of the boot he straightened and turned to face the twins.
"Voldemort was good for something," he said, actually managing a genuine smile.
"There are easier ways to get a makeover, mate," Harry thought it was George said cheerfully and slapped him on the shoulder.
"There are," Harry asked with a good impression of wide eyed innocence. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"
Even Ron snorted a laugh at that, which wiped away the worried little frown with which his friend had been watching Harry through the whole exchange. Ron had been shooting looks like that at him all day, if he was honest with himself, for weeks, and taking a deep breath Harry decided that above all else he was not going to ruin Christmas for anyone. Part of him felt as if the end of the world had come and gone, merely neglecting to inform the rest of him, but pulling together every scrap of will he had he pushed those feelings to the back of his mind.
"We hear you ..." Fred said, draping his arm over Harry's shoulders.
"...can fly," George finished, walking up on his other side.
That was the point where Harry began to worry.
"And we have this..." Fred continued cheerfully.
"...new product," George elaborated, "only we haven't tested it yet and..."
"...to someone with wings," Harry felt like he was watching tennis, "it poses no..."
"...danger. So we thought we might be able to..."
"...convince you to be our lab..."
Harry looked from one twin to the other one more time and then smiled in a way that they both found disconcerting if the matching moments of worry were anything to go by.
"What's it worth?" he asked.
All through supper the twins continued to try and convince Harry that helping them test their latest invention would be fun, pain free and not in the least bit dangerous. They weathered the looks Molly was sending them the entire time and Harry actually found their antics quite entertaining and he played up to them the whole time. It was a blessed distraction from all the dark thoughts playing through his mind and he jumped into the discourse with both feet.
It was halfway through pudding when the fireplace belched and someone stepped out; at first thanks to the flash of flame Harry couldn't work out who had just arrived.
"Remus," Arthur greeted cheerfully, "we were beginning to think you might not make it."
"Committee meeting ran late," the smartly dressed werewolf said cheerfully; "the Ministry really didn't want to agree to our terms, but we twisted their arms."
No one had told Harry that Remus would be dropping by and he smiled at his friend in genuine joy. Without even thinking Harry climbed out of his seat and moved to hug the werewolf. It still felt very bizarre looking down, all be it only half an inch, at the man who had been one of his mentors for so long.
"How long are you staying?" Harry asked the excitement clear in his voice.
"Until Molly throws me out," Remus said with a laugh.
Harry's heart swelled; Christmas without Draco close was going to be difficult, but he hoped it had just become that much easier.
It had been getting worse every day; the feeling that he was not where he was supposed to be, and he knew he was becoming less and less able to hide it. Yesterday, amongst all the presents and food and general good cheer he had caught Remus and Molly looking at him with frowns of worry on their faces. Every time he had tried to make an effort, to pretend that he was enjoying himself so that he didn't detract from everyone else's festivities, but he knew, at least in part, he had failed.
He had managed to put Remus off, telling him that he would speak to him today and trying to make the werewolf understand that anything else would upset the Christmas cheer, but Harry had no idea what to tell his friend. He hadn't slept a wink all night as vivid, nightmarish dreams of being torn from his mate woke him and eventually he had left Ron's room and wandered downstairs.
Sitting in the dark by the embers of the fire he let the thoughts tumble around in his mind, churning over and over in endless loops. The weather suited his mood as a snow storm settled in at about 3am, and he wrapped his arms around his legs, resting his head on his knees as the despair twisted in his chest.
He needed Draco; at school when he could see him every day he had held the urge at bay, but here, separated from his mate by miles and miles, he was becoming more and more desperate. He had been rejected, forcefully, and a very primeval part of him needed to fight back. To the non-human part of him Draco had accepted him as his mate, and trying to break that affiliation was just not possible. There were only two possibilities; reconciliation or death. It was all too much and he had to do something.
With a growl he launched himself into a standing position and dragged the T-shirt he had been sleeping in over his head. Logic had very little to do with his reasoning as the primitive, magical part of his nature spoke to him far louder than the higher, intellectual part. He had to find Draco; it was that or die trying, and he stalked to the door.
As he opened it a blast of icy cold air whipped over his bared chest, but he didn't care and his wings flared into a shield against the storm. There was the noise of feet on the stairs, but he took no notice, stepping out into the blizzard.
"Harry, what are you doing?" he heard the words, he even recognised Remus, but it made little difference, and, walking into the snow, he looked up.
The sky was deep black where it was covered with clouds and the snowflakes were falling thick and fast, but it did not deter him. Drawing his wings back he gathered his strength and just as Remus came running out of the door he took off.
The wind was very strong, but Harry was very determined and he was after all a magical creature. He did not think about how the icy wind took all feeling from his body, or how he could not see where he was going, all that mattered was reaching Draco as fast a possible. He was focussed on only one thing and nothing else made it into his mind. He was seeking his mate and that was his only thought.
He flew for what seemed like an endless time, cloaked in the storm as if it was taking him where he needed to go. Instincts led him and he did not waver from his course, only coming back down towards the ground well after the sun had crept over the horizon onto the white landscape. Below him was a huge house with large, colourful grounds. Parts must have been enchanted to reject the snow and show their variegated foliage. If Harry had not been so focused he might have enjoyed the sight, but he only had just about enough sense to head for the front door.
Draco was somewhere in that building, Harry could feel it and he wanted him more than life itself. His hands were so cold that he could not lift the large brass knocker to announce his presence, so he banged on the door with his clenched fists. He was frozen and most of his body was numb, but he didn't care; Draco was close and that was the only reason to be.
The door was opened by a house elf that looked at Harry as if he was the strangest thing it had ever seen.
"Who is it, Fussy?" a very familiar voice asked from inside.
"Fussy is not knowing, Master Draco, Sir," the house elf replied as Harry stood there and shivered.
He could hear footsteps coming towards the door, but Draco's voice had had a pronounced effect on Harry; suddenly he had found his mate and the impetus which had led him vanished. Rational thought tried to make itself known, and the fact that he was well on his way to frozen to death made it into Harry's muddled brain. Before he ever managed to lay eyes on Draco he felt his body giving up and without being able to do anything about it he began to pitch forward. Briefly he felt sorry for the elf he was bound to hit on the way down, but then his ability to think shut down and the world vanished into darkness.
Harry opened his eyes as the feeling of fingers tracing his scar made it into his subconscious, and he was just in time to see a hand snatched away. For a moment he saw a look of horror cross Draco's face at being caught, but the expression soon hardened into a glare.
"You finally deigned to join us then," the Slytherin said coldly. "What is it with Gryffindors and dramatic entrances? You're lucky Mother knows something about healing, or bits would have dropped off by now."
At school Harry might have turned away and ignored the jibe, or risen to it and argued back, but he had been through too much over their separation and he could not cope with Draco being hateful now.
"Please don't," he said quietly.
Those two words had a dramatic effect on his companion and Draco froze mid sneer. It was as if that simple admission of weakness was enough to shatter the adversarial attitude holding the Slytherin's act together. Suddenly Draco appeared confused and afraid and he stood back from the bed, turning to leave.
"We can't run away from this," Harry tried desperately, sitting up and reaching for Draco.
His fingers brushed against cloth, but his companion was too far away for anything more. His words had, however, halted Draco's retreat.
"You feel it too," Harry did not need to ask, he merely stated a fact.
It was not an easy thing to admit, but he had had to come to terms with the fact that he was connected to someone who was not even his friend, and he knew Draco had to do the same thing. That they were enemies no longer mattered because this was not a choice they could make; they had already made it when their non-human natures had taken over their bodies.
"Every second of every day," Draco said eventually in a slightly afraid tone.
At last he turned and Harry looked deep into the steel grey eyes that observed him right back. There was a hunger there and a need, as well as confusion and fear. He saw everything he was feeling reflected in Draco's gaze and it was frightening; they were both so lost.
"It was never really about sex," Harry said quietly, voicing what he knew they both understood now, "that was just a means to an end. We can't go back."
Draco said nothing, just continued looking into his face. The Slytherin was like an alabaster statue, only the shallow movement of his chest giving away that he was actually alive.
"Malfoy," Harry began, "D...Draco," he corrected hesitantly, finally using the name that was always in his mind, but had never crossed his lips, "I know you don't like me and I don't like you, but I don't think we really know each other. I can't live like this: I'll go mad. I want to know the real you, at least to try for something that might save us both."
It was too late to change this, there was nothing they could do and Harry was not above begging if he had too. He pleaded with his companion, desperate for some acknowledgment, something that would drag him out of the nightmare he was living.
"A Slytherin and a Gryffindor," Draco said after a few moments, "how insanely us; our friends won't like it."
It was so typically Slytherin, considering the outward image rather than the internal need and it annoyed Harry.
"Stuff our friends," he said vehemently, not willing to allow Draco to hide behind rationalities, "they don't have to live with the longing and the knowledge that they aren't whole. Every time you cast a spell I feel it; every night I go to sleep knowing that I'm going to dream about you; every day at school I sit on the other side of the hall dying to walk over to you. My whole bloody house knows I'd rather be sitting with you. Over this entire holiday, the fact you weren't there has been killing me. I didn't take off in the middle of a snow storm because I'm a complete idiot; I did it because I had to. My body wants you, my mind wants you and my magic wants you; I can't fight it anymore. I want to love you, but to do that I have to know you."
The Slytherin looked rather shocked at his outburst, but Draco's face also held a silent agreement; Harry knew his companion was feeling exactly the same way he was. If nothing else, the touch of those fingers just as he woke up had told Harry everything he needed to know.
"Do you dream of flying," Draco asked quietly, "soaring into the sky together with nothing but our wings as shelter?"
"Oh god, yes," Harry replied, unable to keep the longing out of his voice. "It's like a dance and you and I come together and fall because we can't fly and make love at the same time, but before we hit the ground we break apart and soar upwards again."
A small choking sound was Draco's only reply and the Slytherin looked away again. This was so hard and yet Harry would walk through fire if it could make something of the mess they were in.
"It's going to be difficult," Draco said slowly, "they really won't like it as all."
Harry's heart leapt at the acquiescence; finally he had hope. The statement struck him as funny and he couldn't help himself, he laughed and caused Draco to look him in the eye again. There was a spark in his companion's gaze and Harry knew Draco feared being mocked.
"When have we ever had anything easy?" he asked, feeling bizarrely happy even though life had just thrown him another wall to climb. "I've had a psycho trying to kill me since I was eleven and you led a revolt against the dark from the one house in Hogwarts everyone thought was a Death Eater stronghold. We're not destined for anything mundane, Draco; the universe would come to an end."
For a moment Draco stared at him, apparently caught between suspicion and something else. Eventually the Slytherin grinned and a wicked gleam appeared in his eye.
"But what happens if we get to know each other and we still hate each other's guts?" he asked with one raised eyebrow.
"Then we'll shack up together," Harry replied with an irrational certainty that he was far beyond that, "fuck like bunnies whenever we feel like it to get rid of this irritating itch, and scandalise the world with how bad two playboys can be when they need to distract themselves from the screwed up relationship they're in."
That actually drew a laugh from the Slytherin and it suddenly occurred to Harry that Draco rarely laughed because he was genuinely amused. Dismissive, superior, malicious and manic were all types of laugh he heard regularly from his object of desire, but rarely simply amused.
"I thought you wanted to be an Auror and go out and fight the big bad," Draco commented lightly.
"That was before I shagged my way into the arms of the devil," Harry replied in kind, "now I'll just write my memoirs, sit back and watch the money roll in."
"Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it," Draco said and rolled his eyes.
The humour disappeared from the Slytherin's features slowly and Harry found himself the centre of his companion's attention. Intense grey eyes bored into his soul and he could feel an echo of the connection they had made over a month ago. This man was his, their magic had joined and changed and now knew the other better than any other living thing. They were two people, but without the other something would always be missing.
Harry held his breath as Draco moved slightly towards him. It was obvious that the Slytherin was still torn, and Harry dared not even blink lest he break the spell. Slowly his companion took one step towards the bed, and then another, bringing up long aristocratic fingers and running them slowly down the side of Harry's face.
"You are my enemy," Draco said quietly, "you are part of what defines me. What am I if the enmity dies?"
"Whatever you want to be," Harry replied in an equally hushed voice.
Almost as if he was under a spell, Draco leant forward and Harry felt soft, warm lips pressed against his own. It was the most wonderful feeling he had ever experienced as the pain and anxiety of the separation flowed out of him at that one touch.
Before Draco could decide this was not what he wanted, as the Slytherin had done on the train, Harry moved into the kiss, bringing his arms round his mate and pushing Draco back and up so that he could shift his legs underneath him and kneel up. This one kiss was like food to a starving man and Harry devoured all he could take of Draco. When arms wound around him, the last tension disappeared from his body as he knew his mate had finally accepted him.
When he eventually drew back and looked at Draco, the Slytherin's eyes were almost shining with intensity. It was as if he was looking into a mirror of his own needs, desires and wants, and it was breathtaking.
"I..." Harry tried to express what he was feeling, but Draco placed a finger on his lips.
"Talk later," his mate said and Harry recognised the hunger in his companion's gaze.
He felt it too; the need to reaffirm the bond that had been wrenched to almost breaking point, mixed with the smouldering libido of a seventeen year old human male. It was a heady mixture. Harry let the corners of his mouth turn upwards in a small smile, and before he could do anything else there were hands running up under the silk pyjamas someone had dressed him in. When those hands pushed him backwards towards the bed again, Harry did not try and resist. He purred when trimmed, talon like nails were drawn across his torso.
"Like that, Potter?" Draco asked with a wicked grin.
"Harry," he replied automatically and then grinned back; "when you say 'Potter' it sounds like you're about to take house points; which is a whole different game."
For a moment the hands stilled and Draco looked a little shocked, but then the Slytherin's previous expression returned, as did the maddening stroking. If his lover kept this up Harry was sure he would go insane with desire.
"My, my, Harry," Draco said, and Harry's smile became rather silly as he enjoyed his name on his mate's lips, "I never knew you were kinky. We'll have to explore that some time."
The hands were moving again, pushing up the silk so that it bunched around his chest. Harry could feel his whole body reacting under his mate's touch, and his magic was moving as well. When Draco's blond head went down, so the Slytherin could kiss and lick the revealed skin, Harry arched into the touch, needing and wanting every moment.
"Responsive, aren't we, Harry," Draco said with a chuckle that was most unlike the Draco Harry usually saw. "Tell me what you want me to do, Harry. What do you like?"
"I..." Harry tried to reply, but his mate kissed him again and the pulse of arousal and the shift in his magic took his voice away for a moment.
Draco looked up at him through white blond strands of hair with a very amused expression on his face. Harry knew he was being teased, but he really did not care.
"You should know," he said before Draco could distract him again, "you were there."
A small frown appeared on his mate's face at that reply and then it cleared with an expression of surprise.
"You mean that that was ... and I ..." Draco seemed rather shocked. "I mean I knew you weren't that experienced, but I never..."
The Slytherin appeared totally taken aback by the news, but what Harry was really interested in was that the touching had stopped, and that was bad.
"Yes, Draco," he said, placing his hands either side of his lover's face so that Draco could not look away, "you took my virginity. Now could we get back to the sex please?"
That had the desired effect and Draco seemed to snap out of his momentary surprise.
"Well if you insist," his mate said nonchalantly and quite deliberately ran a finger under the waistband of Harry's pyjama trousers.
Playing with Harry seemed to be a game Draco enjoyed and much to Harry's chagrin there was no more below the waistband touching for quite some time. His mate chose to drive him to distraction by stroking and kissing him everywhere else, which included very sensitive nipples that disappeared into white heat when lapped at. Every time Harry tried to reciprocate Draco would do something that turned him into putty and he would drop back to the bed. It was maddening and wonderful at the same time.
When Draco finally came nose to nose with him once more he was literally humming with desire. His erection felt like it was made of cast iron filled with raw heat and the fact that Draco was leaning into him and an equally hard cock was pressed into his leg did not help.
Harry wanted Draco as if his life depended on it and he wanted him more than just because he felt like he might explode at any minute. The magical creature inside his skin knew what he needed to be whole again; what he required for the ache inside him to go away.
"I need to know that I'm yours," Harry said quietly as he felt their bodies pressed together, "that you accept me. Please show me, Draco."
Draco was his mate, Harry knew this in his heart and had tried to make that very clear to the Slytherin on several occasions, but part of him that was instinct needed to experience that acceptance from the other side. There was only one way to satisfy the part of him that was not intellect and so he asked.
Grey eyes looked deep into his own before Draco slowly nodded. There was no mating frenzy here, no overwhelming need to join together and Harry knew that this time it would be their human-selves as well as their other-selves doing this.
Sitting up and away from him, Draco undid the top two buttons of his shirt and the cuffs, before pulling it from his trousers and then up over his head. All Harry could do was lay there and watch as perfect, pale skin was revealed. He had been dying to touch what had been hidden ever since Draco had started caressing him and now his lover leaned down and let his do just that. He remembered the soft feel of that skin and as he let his fingers dance over Draco's chest his mind filled with the memory of learning every inch of that body.
Draco let him explore for a few minutes, as the Slytherin held himself over Harry so that he could reach anywhere he wanted. Then Draco pulled the silk of the pyjama top back down over Harry's chest and began to undo the buttons. Sitting back his lover urged him to come with him and Harry found himself being undressed in a seductive, leisurely manner. Draco's hand seemed to be everywhere at once, caressing his shoulders and his back, his chest and his front until his lover lowered him back to the bed.
It was almost like a dance and Harry felt as if Draco needed this slow discovery as much as he did. They had known each other intimately time and again over three days, and yet this was different. Then they had been magical creatures called together by power, now they were men trying to establish a relationship based on what they had done before.
Leaving Harry on the bed Draco stepped off of the mattress for a moment, looking down at him with heat in his eyes. As if every move was for Harry, his lover slowly released the fastening on his trousers and with a small push let them, and whatever he was wearing underneath, fall to the ground. When Draco lost his shoes and socks, Harry didn't care, because when his lover climbed back onto the bed he was naked and very much aroused.
Kneeling next to him, Draco took hold of the top of Harry's pyjama trousers and dragged them off him in a very slow and deliberate manner. The sensation of silk sliding across his erection caused Harry to curl his hands in the sheets on the bed until it came free and released him from the torment.
The pyjamas were tossed over Draco's shoulder with careless ease before the Slytherin reached out to gently ease Harry's knees apart. All the time grey eyes were moving all over his body, and it was almost as if Harry could feel their heat. As Draco nudged one leg and then the other between his, he surrendered gladly to everything his lover wanted. Hands pushed his knees up and apart and held him, vulnerable and open to Draco's gaze.
"And I shall have you," his mate said in little more than a whisper, causing Harry's erection to jump with anticipation.
When his knees were released Harry let his legs fall wherever they happened to be; he did not want to control this.
Draco reached over to the bedside table and opened the small drawer closest to the bed. When he sat back Harry could see that his lover was holding a small pot of what Harry had to assume was lubricant. It occurred to him that this was not Draco's room, at least it did not appear to be a lived in room, and he doubted the Malfoys would have put him anywhere but a guest room. He made a mental note to ask later, but for now he was far too busy.
For a moment his lover looked at him and Harry thought Draco might ask if this was what he really wanted, but when he looked into his mate's eyes Draco closed his mouth again. Harry had never been good at hiding what he was feeling and right then he had no desire to, so his needs were written all over his face.
Harry's legs were already spread thanks to Draco's previous play, but to Harry's surprise his mate did not go straight for his goal. In fact Draco placed the small pot he had retrieved down on the bed and began to run his hands slowly up and down the inside and back of Harry's thighs. Before he realised it, Harry's head lolled back as he closed his eyes and relaxed into what was turning into a massage.
He moaned appreciatively when firm fingers began to remove all tension from his muscles and moved tantalisingly close to his throbbing erection. When those same fingers moved on to kneading his buttocks he barely registered the change in his haze of pleasure. Only when he felt himself being gently spread and one lubricated finger began to nudge at his entrance did he fully notice where Draco had turned his attention.
Keeping his eyes closed seemed like a good idea as every touch was enhanced by the lack of sight. Slowly the finger teased him, much more gentle than when under the influence of the mating frenzy, and eventually pushed past his resisting muscle.
"That's right, Harry," Draco's voice was soft and deep with desire, "just relax."
It was almost as if his mate was trying to ease him through his first time, and in a way it was for his human side. He'd never done this before while in his right mind and it was a different experience to the fury of sex between magical creatures. He remembered the feelings and sensation from then, but now his body did not automatically do what it needed to and he was far more in control.
Draco worked the one finger in and out slowly, loosening Harry with small twists and turns. Then his mate pushed in a second intrusion, which was harder to take and burned slightly, but Harry willed his body to relax. His muscles remembered this type of breach and acquiesced to it with little resistance, but what he really wanted was more than fingers. As his mate worked him he found that the Seraphim part of his nature was far from asleep and was growing impatient. He allowed the slow stretching to go on for a little while longer, but he could only hold off his instincts for so long. Opening his eyes he found Draco looking at him and for an instant he saw the same eagerness reflected in his lover's eyes.
"Now," he said and pushed into Draco's hand, impaling himself as much as possible.
The fingers were withdrawn and Harry allowed his legs to be lifted onto Draco's shoulders. This was what he wanted and what he needed and his heart pounded in his chest as Draco carefully covered himself in lubricant and lined his body up with Harry's.
"If I hurt you," his mate said breathlessly, "tell me to stop."
Harry nodded and tried to remain absolutely relaxed. The first push hurt more than he remembered and he put his hand on Draco's arm to get him to pause. The head of his mate's cock had him impaled and he needed to ease into the intrusion. Sex from before was almost a dreamlike memory, hidden behind a haze of hormones and magic, but this was very real. It took a good few seconds before he felt ready to continue and then he nodded at his lover.
Draco pushed in further and the burning continued, but it was countered by the heady mix of arousal and magic swirling through his body. He wanted his mate; he wanted him so much. Draco went to pull out again before he was fully sheathed in Harry, but Harry squeezed his lover's arm to stop him, shaking his head. He needed Draco fully inside him, an urgent and begging ache in the pit of his stomach demanding this now. His lover seemed unsure but did as he was asked, and, the moment Draco was fully seated in him, Harry felt everything click into place. His magical core leapt to find his lover's and they joined in more ways than one.
The gasp that came from his own mouth was mirrored by one from Draco's and they remained locked in position for several seconds before Draco slowly began to move. It was the most wonderful feeling and Harry let himself sprawl back onto the bed as his mate claimed him as his own. This was what it meant to have and have been found and he revelled in it.
The delicious feeling of being filled drove him insane and he could not hold back the moans and cries that the sensations drew from him. He needed everything Draco could give, needed to be had and have what he offered received in its entirety. As Draco moved inside him he felt the mental pain let go and he understood how far it had reached into his soul. When a hand took hold of his cock and began to pump firmly it was more than he could take and he exploded with a heartfelt cry, shuddering and moving in the complete surrender of orgasm.
So many thoughts and emotions crashed through his head at the same moment that he could not hold onto any of them. They were together, they were one and that was all he knew. His occupied mind could barely tell him anything, but he felt Draco's magic pulse as his lover also reached completion and then fell on top of him, spent. Magic swirled around his body and he felt whole on both human and Seraphim levels. His mate had accepted him, and it was a euphoric feeling. This was where he was supposed to be.
End of Chapter 9
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