Archive of Our Own

A year and three months after the war, things were beginning to fall into place. The Golden Trio - one Hermione Granger, one Ronald Weasley, and one Harry Potter - were walking peacefully through Diagon Alley when they bumped into none other than their old professor and head of their house, Professor McGonagall.

"Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley, Potter," She greeted them.

"Hello, professor." They greeted back.

The group chatted on the side of the busy streets of Diagon Alley as passersby trudged by.

"The school is reopening in a few weeks time." McGonagall mentioned, offhandedly.

Hermione's brown eyes lit up, "Really?"

Ever since the Second Wizarding War ended, Hermione has dreamed of going back to finish her studies. For a few months she helped clean up the debris left at the castle from the battle, but soon had to give up as the exhaustion -both mental and physical- from the war kicked in. 

"I was thinking," McGonagall spoke, "That maybe the students who had missed out on their education during the war could come back and finish up. If they would like, of course."

"Really?" Hermione practically squeaked.

"Yes, really." The Professor ushered her three former students towards a café across the sun-heated road, "Why don't we get something to drink and we can speak more on the matter?"

The Great Hall was still as magnificent as Harry remembers, with the floating candles, the ceiling that reflected the starlight sky outside, the four long tables still set up in the exact places Harry remembers. From another's view, the room looks like nothing had ever happened to it, it looks the same way it has looked for a multitude of years, but for the older students and the teachers who have been through the horrors of war, the room was very different.

The hall Harry had found a home and family in all those years ago still had the brightness and still held the giggles and amazed looks of the younger generations, but there were many things that made the bright, optimistic room darken as if a shadow stood right before the candle lights. The floor, for instance. Looking around, many students see the long tables made up for each house spread across a clean tiled floor, Harry however sees the ghost of the bodies that laid wrapped in cloth on a dirt-and-blood-ridden flooring as their families searched for them, most shattering to the floor when they were found.

If one knew where to look and looked close enough, they would notice how a few bricks didn't quite match up with the ones next to it. There were scars found through chips, scuffs, and burnt markings left on accident scattered through the room, reminding the survivors of everything they went through. 

Hermione, who had also noticed the many scars Harry had found, held tightly to his hand. He squeezed it, not looking away from a set of bricks directly over the heads of what he assumes are second year Slytherins. He couldn't bring himself to look at the girl next to him; he wasn't able to look into her eyes and see the light they have fought hard for the past few months slipping away like it was in Harry's own emerald ones. 

The chatter around the hall intensified as more and more students arrived. The table Harry and Hermione sat at, Gryffindor's table, was the most packed table of them all, seeing as most students who couldn't attend or finish their last year had decided to finish up their schooling.

Harry looked around himself at the smiling faces of his former-classmates (which, technically they aren't exactly former anymore). Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Neville Longbottom, Lavender Brown, and Parvati Patil, just to name a few, had all returned. Another reminder of how things have changed was the notable absence of his ginger-haired best friend, Ron. Ron had decided to skip on the Eighth Year opportunity to instead help his older brother, George, run his joke shop, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. 

Surrounding Harry were Hermione, Dean, Seamus and Neville, as well as Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood, both of who Harry had gotten close to over their schooling hiatus. After the war, he and Ginny tried to take new steps in their relationship, but both found themselves enjoying each others company more as friends and less as lovers, so they decided to stick as such. Harry is happy things never turned awkward or ugly between them, he has always respected the youngest Weasley and knows she is a very good influence to have around. She also doesn't take any of Harry's shit and isn't afraid to tell Harry when he fucks up, which he appreciates.  

As the new headmaster, Headmistress McGonagal, stood to begin the welcoming speech, the Great Hall's door swung open, entering two late-comers. 

The Great Hall fell to a hush as they looked towards the two students that had just arrived. A familiar pointy-faced boy with pastel blue hair and a girl no older than eleven with strawberry blonde waltzed in. The two walked towards the farthest left side table, Slytherin table, as if they didn't just cause the entire hall to lose its speech. The girl was talking animatedly to the boy, who was smiling and nodding along. The older boy, though his hair wasn't the same, was still very recognizable. With a pointy chin and nose and a lanky body, it was none other than an odd looking Draco Malfoy.

From his seat across the hall, Harry gasped as his eyes landed on his former nemesis.

"His hair." He heard Hermione whisper.

"Yeah," He answered, in too much shock to say anything else. 

The two students walked to the far end of the table casually, slipping in next to what looked like Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. The conversations slowly came back up, softer than it was before, but Harry couldn't focus on anything but the boy.

Not only was his hair different, Harry noticed, but his whole wardrobe was too. The pastel boy had ill fitting robes on, and light pink earrings in his ears. When he rolled up his sleeves, the Dark Mark -a mark that Voldemort had given his followers, was gone completely, in its place laid an arrangement of flowers and what looked like writing.

"Did you know he was coming back?" Hermione asked Harry.

"Not a clue."

The introductions were like every other year, list of rules that never ended, have a great year, eat up. The only difference was that this year, there was no sorting hat, nor the looming presence of Lord Voldemort. Instead, every person got a room number that they will be sharing with five other students from their year.

An uproar erupted as Profess- Headmistress McGonagall explained that Quidditch teams would be picked by the teachers this year, instead of the oldest students. The teams would be a collection of students from each dormitory instead of houses. 

"This is fucking ridiculous." Harry heard Dean Thomas, another eighth year that came back, say.

"Are you going to try out, Harry?" Luna Lovegood asked from across him.

Harry snuck a glance towards Malfoy, who looked to be explaining something to the girl he walked in with, and quickly looked back towards Luna, "Not sure. I kind of want to work on my studies and relax for this last year."

The meal time slowly came to a close as the moon started rising higher. The professors handed out the students parchments and ushered them to their designated rooms.

With a quick farewell to Hermione, Harry walked towards his new dormitory, which was in the old Hufflepuff tower. Upon arrival, he was shocked to see a door with the words "Dorm Four" written across a wooden panel. With the rebuilding, they had taken away all the secret doorways and passwords instead adding double doors with magical sensors that only allowed the students that lived in the rooms to open the doors. Harry took a deep breath and walked in. 

The walls in the dorm, much like the common room, were light tan bricked. Dark wood poster-beds lined in a circle against the wall, each one was completed with a tan duvet, three pillows, and a chest at the foot of the bed. Next to all the beds were a darker wooden wardrobe on one side and a nightstand on the other.

"Pretty Snazzy." He heard a voice behind him say. The said person walked past Harry, his blue hair shining in the brightly lit room.

The boy removed his robe and dropped it on the far right bed, "Mind if I call this one?"

Having no words, Harry shook his head. Harry's other roommates slowly slipped in one by one. Almost all of them were from houses other than Gryffindor, except for Seamus Finnigan. He recognized the other students instantly from the D.A. -Justin Finch-Fletchley (Hufflepuff) and Terry Boot (Ravenclaw). Not too bad of a room, Harry thought, blue haired boy excluded.

He dropped his tote on the remaining bed, putting him right next to Malfoy. 

They all began unpacking their bags in silence, most of them lost in the reality that they are back at Hogwarts, a place none of them thought they would ever see again. When all of Harry's things were put away, he sat down on the edge of his bed with his feet propped up on his trunk and looked at the other occupants that were now cracking jokes with each other. His stomach rumbled aloud, frightening him and the other students in the room.

"Hungry already?" Malfoy joked, an uncharacteristic smile playing on his lips.

Harry looked at him confused. He searched for a scowl or anything resembling the coldness of the Malfoy he used to know, but nothing showed. When Harry refused to answer, Malfoy put the shirt he was folding into the drawer with a sigh and softly closed the dresser. He walked over to his trunk and sat down, looking over at the other students who were still unpacking their own bags. Malfoy smiled as he saw them all joking around with each other like old friends do.

He turned towards Harry, "Hey."

Harry kept his gaze locked on his other roommates.

"Listen," Malfoy sighed, "We had hard times. It was a war. You had your people to protect and I had my own. You had expectation to live up to, so did I."

Harry held onto the sheets of his bed, if only to control his bubbling temper.

"I know we will probably never be friends." Malfoy continued, "But I'm tired of fighting. So, we don't have to be friends but could we at least pretend to not hate each other? At least to get through this year?"

In a split second, Harry's eyes meet Malfoy's. Fury ran all over Harry's face.

"Not hate each other?" He spoke through his teeth, "Do you realize what you put me through? What you put my friends through?"

Malfoy nodded, not breaking eye contact, "I know I was the biggest asshole. I was worst than that, honestly. I'm not asking for forgiveness, though I am really sorry about what had happened and what I contributed to the suffering of all of you." Malfoy hesitated, "Everything I did, well most things, were because I had no other choice. I had to be this bad guy. I had to fight against everything your side stood for."

Harry shook his head, "You didn't have to do anything. You had a choice to follow him or come to us and you made your choice."

"You don't always have a choice, Potter."

"Yes you do, Malfoy."

"Not when your family is at risk. Not when the people you love the most could die if you make the smallest mistake."

Harry fell silent. A few moments passed. Harry was the first to speak.

"We would have protected them, too."

Malfoy shook his head, "No one could have."

Harry was confused by this. Dumbledore would have protected them, the Order as well, if they would have just asked, right?

Harry looked around the room and realized they were the only two still in it.

Malfoy stood up, "Well, there is a perk in being in the Hufflepuff dorm, why don't we go over to the kitchens and get some snacks?"

Harry's eyes widened as he look towards the hand Malfoy extended to him.

He looked between the boy and his hand for several seconds as flashbacks to his first day at Hogwarts flooded his mind. After a beat, he decided to take it, also deciding to ignore the shock he felt ripple on his palm from the short-lived contact.

"Thanks." He said quickly, ducking out of the room.

It seemed as if every student was in the common room when Harry and Malfoy arrived. Even Hermione, who is rooming in their old houses rooms, was there, chatting happily with Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley.

Harry walked towards them, smiling.

"What are you three doing here?"

Luna smiled at him, "Well, this is my house."

Harry smiled, giving his friends hugs.

Luna's eyes brightened as she spotted Malfoy, "Hello, cousin. I love your hair!" She sauntered over to him and ran a hand through the sky blue strands, "It is gorgeous. It really makes your eyes pop."

Harry, who was watching the exchange along with Hermione and Ginny, couldn't help but agree with Luna. 

Malfoy blushed slightly, looking down at the floor. 

"Me, Gin, and 'Mione were just going down to the kitchen, would you boys like to join us?" 

Harry and Malfoy caught each others eyes. They stared for a moment before both agreeing.

Ginny and Harry stood to follow, Harry pausing when Hermione stayed on the couch. She had a far look on her face as she rubbed at her forearm, the same forearm that had the offensive word Mudblood etched into it forever. Harry sat down, taking Hermione's hand away from her arm. She sat rigid, her face fell cold.

He turned to the others that were waiting by the door way with worried looks, "You guys go ahead." Luna and Ginny nodded solemnly, walking out the door. Malfoy stood, eyes filled with regret and sorrow, looking at Harry and the girl. His lips thinned and with a slight nod, followed the girls. 

"'Mione.."

She shook her head, "No, I don't- I can't- its been a year. I can't-" She attempted to swallow her memories, "This is our last school year." She faced Harry, grabbing tightly to the hand that held hers, "This is our last chance to be students, Harry. This is our last chance to be normal. We- I - need to stay focused on that. On being normal school kids. We can be normal." Hermione talked like she was trying to persuade not only Harry but herself. 

Harry nodded, not knowing what to say. He was never good at this sort of thing, really. When people get emotional, Harry tends to freeze and his brain often stops working. It had made the months after the war ended extremely tense and awkward as he jumped from funeral to funeral to ceremony to funeral. The best Harry can ever come up with is an "I'm sorry." and an awkward hug. Even here, with his best friend, the person he has risked his life for for years, and she has risked hers for him, he can't think of anything to say, anything to do, besides hold her hand and let her know that he is here for her. Hopefully it's enough. 

They sat in silence for a moment. Hermione turned to him, her eyes shinning with curiosity, "That little girl who was with Malfoy.. did she look familiar to you?"

Harry thought back to the girl. If he was being honest, he was so shocked of seeing a blue-haired Malfoy walking into Hogwarts to notice anything else. He remembered her hair and how she talked expressively to Malfoy, but the memory stops there. 

He shook his head, "I'm really not sure. I would have to see her again to know."

Hermione nodded, "She seemed so familiar to me, I can't quite place it though."

The door barged open a minute later, three students, along with a few others, waltzed through the door, chatting loudly. 

Ginny and Luna dropped the many supplies they carried. An array of chips, snack cakes, dips, and finger sandwiches fell to the table. Malfoy placed down what looked like muggle soda along with pumpkin juice and plastic cups elegantly onto the table besides the snacks.

The next few hours flew by as they chatted and snacked on the variety of snacks laying about.

More often than not, Harry would find his gaze drift off towards Malfoy. If Harry thought his extreme change of appearance was peculiar, his attitude and personality switch was even more so. The blue-haired boy sat off by a bookshelf next to a fire place with his former-Slytherin friends, Pansy and Blaise. From the corner of his eye, Harry would watch as Malfoy smiling broadly at his friends, sometimes even laughing with the most open expression Harry had ever seen on the boy. It was the most bizarre thing he has seen in a while. And to make things even more bizarre, the sight was sending tingles down his arms. Harry decided to ignore that fact. 

Before they knew it, midnight hit.

Hermione was the first to stand, "Classes start tomorrow so I think I'm going to head back. I advise the rest of you to do the same."

After walking her out, Harry decided to retire as well. After saying a quick goodnight, he showered and brushed his teeth. He realized after stepping out of the warm shower and into the cold tiled bathroom that he forgot to get clothes before his shower. He wrapped himself into a towel and peaked around the door. The hall looked empty, and his room was only a few feet away. He tightened the towel around his waist. Taking one last look down the hall, and tip-toed to eighth year room.

Praying no one way in there, he quickly opened the door and slid in.

The room was dark and quite, the only light coming from the vibrate moon outside the windows. He walked over to his dresser and pulled out a night shirt and pants. Half way through getting dressed he heard movement on the bed beside his. Quickly, he threw himself under his bed-sheets, dropping his shirt onto the floor.

Harry didn't know why he was hiding, exactly, seeing as he was already basically covered by not only his pants but also by the canopy on his four-poster bed that was closed all around except for the part right in front of him. Thinking of himself as ridiculous, he decided to lift his head out of the covers. He froze, however, when he heard a voice he hadn't heard in a long time.

"Why?" The deeply french-accented voice shrilled.

"Because," Malfoy, Harry thought, "I've told you I just can't. It's too dangerous."

Harry held his breath as he listened. What's dangerous?

"It wouldn't be if you just gave in!" A thumping noise followed.

"You know I can't give in." Foot steps walked away from Malfoy's voice.

"But please," Malfoy pleaded, "Please I need your help. I have to stop this." He sounded close to tears, "Please."

The foot steps stopped. Time had paused, if only for a moment.

"No one can help you but yourself, Malfoy."

Harry peeked over the covers and around his canopy just in time to see a familiar head of blonde hair walk out the room.

Many questions went through his head but the main one, the screaming one, spoke above them all.

Why was Fleur Delacour at Hogwarts?

Harry didn't sleep well that night. Not from nightmares or anxiety that usually was the cause of his insomnia, but from questions that his mind was constantly supplying. Why was Fleur here last night? Why was she with Malfoy? What was he talking about that was too dangerous?

By the time Harry got down to breakfast, his mind had made up more questions than even Rita Skeeter could possibly ask, and he was so hungry he could have eaten a whole Basilisk. Just to prove his case, he had third helpings of toast and eggs.

He chatted away with his old friends, catching up about life after the war. Every now and then he would look towards his blue-haired roommate. When the boy wasn't doing anything suspicious, which was pretty much all of breakfast but Harry had to keep looking just to make sure, Harry would look around the room. No matter how many times he searched, he never saw the familiar face of Fleur.

Luna was in the middle of a speech about some creature her father found, a Narwhal, when Harry interrupted.

"Have you heard from Fleur lately?"

Hermione looked at Harry confused. She looked towards Luna and back at Harry, "No, why?"

Harry shrugged, biting his toast, "Just wondering. She still teaching, right?"

Hermione turned towards Harry, "No, she and Bill had to take off for Victoire's health problems, remember?"

"Right." Harry looked longingly at his toast, "So, Luna, tell me more about these Narwhals."

Much like Narwhals, people also seem to communicate strictly with clicks, whistles, and bangs. At least, Harry's roommates seem to. 

It's been exactly two weeks since the start of school. Two weeks since Harry saw Fleur in their dormitory, and Harry still has a vault full of unanswered questions. Every day that passes has Harry's mind and body itching for any form of answers.

He had decided the second day of school that Harry would play nice with Malfoy, if only to get his questions answered. While he doesn't trust the stinking git, he does agree with Malfoy about the fighting. Harry has been fighting his entire life, now that the worst of the war is done, he needs a grace period of just being a regular semi-nice human being.

Harry and Malfoy, while not exactly becoming friends, speak more often -mainly in small gestures, points, and little noises- but still communicating to some sort none the less. It wasn't the hugest step to most, but for the two boys it was a leap.

They coexistence among themselves and the others in their shared space. The only verbal interactions (ones with actual words, not just noises) Harry has received has been during his study sessions with Hermione, where all they talked about was school work, or on the rare occasion where he and Ginny cross paths and talk about either Quidditch or the other parts of the Weasley clan. Even the other boys in his dorm stayed to themselves. Many of them out with their significant others that had also returned or, in Neville's case, out in the green houses. 

After his last hour, double potions and death wishes, he finally had enough of the quiet. He searched for Hermione to have some sort of conversation, even if it was about their Ancient Runes assignment that was due in two days time, but to no avail. The bushy haired girl was no wheres to be found. Harry considered going and getting his Marauder's Map but didn't want to risk seeing his roommates - by roommates, he means one roommate in particular. 

Sighing, he flopped himself under the large oak, found on a small hill by the Great Lake.

He closed his eyes and leaned against the trunk, enjoying the soft autumn breeze and setting sun.

"Your neck looks weird like that."

Harry jumped up and turned towards the voice.

Sitting on a large branch, was none other than the one roommate he was trying to avoid, Draco Malfoy. He looked strange, tucked up in a tree with a large book in his lap.

Deciding that Malfoy was the best conversation he would probably get for the day, he sat back.

"Well, you look strange hiding in a tree."

"Who said I was hiding?" Malfoy asked as he turned a page in his book.

Harry shrugged, "Why else would you be in a tree?"

"It's comfy."

"How is a branch comfortable?"

It was Malfoy's turn to shrug, "Maybe I like the feel of wood."

Harry spun to look at the boy, the innuendo not going unnoticed.

Malfoy smirked, never looking up from his book, "Why are you on this hill beneath a tree talking to me?"

Harry turned his back against the tree, "Boredom mainly."

"Maybe you should find a book to read." Malfoy suggested.

"Yeah, I'll do that when Hermione fails a class."

Harry was surprised to hear a light chuckle escape Malfoy. A quiet silence fell upon them. Harry, looking out over the lake, Malfoy, sitting up on a branch staring down at his book, not collecting any of the information it was providing, both deep in their minds.

"Next week is Hogsmead right?" Malfoy asked, randomly.

"Yeah," Harry answered in thought.

"Wanna do something when we go?"

Harry spun so quickly his neck began to throb. He and the boy have had a small truce since rooming together and have had a few small not-exactly-conversations over the first week of school, but they have never, not once, actually hung out, nor held an actually conversation, before this one.

Harry stared up at the boy, who was determinedly looking Harry in the eyes. Before Harry could stop his tongue, a soft "Sure"  fell out.

Malfoy smiled down at his book, his blue hair falling over his eyes slightly, his cheeks turning a slight rose color. The sight did strange warm and tingly things to Harry's body.

The two boys sat in silence until the sun went down, they eventually moved to head back to the dorms, staying silent the whole way there. The only words spoken were a soft Goodnight, Potter. Harry answered with an even softer goodnight.

He laid awake, staring at the top of his canopy for a long while, thinking over what exactly might happen if he and Malfoy actually hung out this weekend. Turning over to face the bed he knew held the strange boy, he prayed that what ever happens wouldn't ruin this small truce and acquaintanceship that the boys have fallen in to since the start of term. 

A moment came two days later where the boys found themselves in another exchange.

Harry was sitting in the library with his head in his hands throwing daggers at his potions essay that laid in front of him, when he felt someone sit beside him. The side of Harry’s body warmed instantly at the feel of a new presence, causing Harry to look up. Malfoy, who Harry was sure he saw sitting at the back of the library, was looking at him with a knowing smirk.

"Having trouble there, Potter?"

Harry's look of confusion morphed into one of annoyance, "Yes, this bloody essay will be the death of me. Slughorn seems adamant on murdering me this semester just to make a point about sixth year."

"Oh, adamant? Big word there, Potter." Malfoy leaned over, pulling the essay closer to him. "Let's take a look, shall we?" 

Harry only half heard what the other boy was saying. Malfoy was nearly pressed solidly against Harry's side, causing Harry to loose his breath. Every place his roommate was touching felt like fire shooting into Harry's skin. Fire so warm and inviting, Harry found himself leaning in towards the boy. 

"-with that, it should be simple." Malfoy turned towards Harry, clearly waiting for an answer. 

Harry leaned away from the boy, attempting to swallow the feeling of the fire, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't hear what you were saying."

Malfoy smiled softly, eyes bright. "That's okay.." He looked at Harry with curiosity before turning back to the essay, "I was saying that Golpalott's Third Law is simply saying that a true antidote to a blended poison is more than the sum of its parts. Instead of thinking of the blended poison as a mixture of poisons, see it as it's own unique poison that just simply has a lot of ingredients put into it."

Harry nodded, turning towards his essay, slightly leaning to the side to avoid touching Malfoy. "If the ingredients in the blended poison are the same of the separate poisons, why wouldn't you be able to use the separate antidotes from each poison? The ingredients didn't change so shouldn't it work the same?"

Malfoy shook his head, "No, not at all actually. The ingredients might be the same but when mixed together they can have different affects to the person or thing, plus different reactions to each other, therefore the antidotes more than likely wouldn't help because the property of the different ingredients had been changed or altered. Same case with the antidotes. If you mix the antidotes together, the ingredients may cancel each other out causing them to be ineffective or in the worst case scenario could even hurt the person more.

Every potion, every ingredient in anything you create is there for a purpose. Without every ingredient or if you alter an ingredient to something that isn’t substantial, the substance won't work out the way you need it to. That goes with potions, poisons, antidotes, cooking, baking. Pretty much anything you create needs every ingredient listed or a good substitute in place of it. Golpalott's Third Law is the law of which states that an antidote cannot simply be created by finding the antidotes to each separate poison in the blended whole and mixing them together. With the use of ingredient knowledge and trial and error, you can find an ingredient or multiple ingredients that work perfectly together to combat the poison."

Harry sat with his chin rested in his hand, looking at Malfoy as if he were a god. “How do you remember all of this?”

Malfoy smiled, which Harry couldn't help but copy. "We learned this in sixth year, if I remember correctly you were pretty much top of the class that year. Even beating out me and Granger - which by the way was infuriating but also entertaining to see Granger be so flustered; how do you not know any of this?" 

Harry gazed down at the parchment that sat between the two boys, trying to decide if he should mention the Half-Blood Prince’s book that he used. Seeing Malfoy looking at him in wonder, he knew he had to tell him. "I had this book. It was written by someone who called themselves the ‘Half-Blood Prince’, who actually-"

"You had Snape's book?"

Harry turned fully towards the other boy, "You knew Snape was the Half-Blood Prince?"

Malfoy nodded, brows furled in confusion, "Yes, he's my godfather. I begged him for months to let me use that damn book. Slimy traitor."

"He didn't know I had it. I found it with the other textbooks in the classroom. I had lost my book so Slughorn let me borrow one." 

Malfoy pulled his bottom lip with his teeth, "That's so odd. He always was so secretive about that book.. It was like his prize possession. I only ever got to glance through it once when he accidentally left it on his desk. Why would it be in Slughorn's collection of textbooks?"

Harry shrugged, "Maybe he left by accident and didn't realize it." 

The curious look in Malfoy’s eyes, turned into one of realization as one of his hands fell to his chest, rubbing it lightly. Harry knew exactly what he was thinking in that moment. "That's where you got that spell isn't it? The one from the bathroom."

Harry cast his eyes down to Malfoy's chest. "Yeah. I'm so sorry that that happened. I didn't know what it did. If I had known-"

Malfoy reached out, lightly grasping Harry's wrist, "No, it's okay. Snape had mentioned that you didn't know what it did. Besides, I definitely deserved it after everything. But, look, we can't start apologizing for every thing we have done to each other since we met, we would never have time to do or talk about anything else."

Harry smiled softly, "We do have a lot of baggage don't we?"

Malfoy absent mindlessly rubbed his thumb on Harry's wrist, causing shocks to spread across Harry's hand and up his arm. "Yes, we do. But someone once told me, ‘you have to have some sort of baggage to get to paradise.’" 

Harry chuckled, "I don't think I have ever heard that before." 

Malfoy laughed back, "One of my favorite house-elves growing up, Dippy, had told me that when I was going through the trails last year. She was always a strange but wise little thing."

Harry couldn't help but smile at the brightness that shown through the boy's face when talking about his old elf. He suddenly felt an overwhelming curiosity about the boy next to him, feeling an intense want - need - to know this strange, unfamiliar person more.

"Did you have your own elves growing up?" 

Draco nodded, "Mhm, I had Dippy, Bozier, Spunk, Gall and Dobby. But the weirdest thing happened, Dobby had randomly disappeared, which is basically unheard of for house elves. When I tried to ask my father he just began rambling about stupid children."

Harry had to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing too loudly, "I, um, I think I can give you an explanation for that one."

The rest of the evening was spent in soft laughs and smiles as the Harry told stories of Dobby and Malfoy told stories about the rest of his elves, the potions essay lay in the middle of the table, forgotten. 

Harry jerked awake the night between Wednesday and Thursday. He wasn't sure what awoke him but his racing heart and clammy hands indicated a nightmare; so did the deep depression that weighed down over his chest. He tried to think back on the dream, trying to remember what it was about, but couldn't grasp anything but loud screams. 

After Harry took few shallow breaths to slow his heart, he pushed his blanket away and slipped off his bed, shivering slightly at the coldness of the wooden floors as he crossed the quiet, dark dorm room and headed to the restrooms.

The restroom was dimly lit, like it often was during late nights. He strolled over to one of the sinks and turned on the cold water, letting the water stream down his hands for a moment before rubbing it on his neck and face, letting the vague memories of his nightmares slip down the drain. The depression, he knew, would take a little longer to disappear. 

Harry switched the water off and leaned against the sink, willing the cold, emptiness he felt in his chest to go away. 

It did seem to slip slightly after a moment, but it was soon over-taken by a soft warmth and tingles that danced upon his back and shoulders. He reveled in the warmth, only jumping slightly when the bathroom door opened behind him. 

Harry kept his eyes closed, feeling the warmth get a little warmer, the tingles get a little stronger. 

"Hey, Malfoy." Harry sluggishly whispered with a yawn.  

The foot steps that were heading towards the stalls froze for a second. "Hey, Potter. Are you okay?"

Harry murmured a reply. 

The foot steps continued walking until Harry heard a stall door shut. He glanced at himself in the mirror, realizing all of his surroundings were fuzzy. He turned towards the bathroom door, wishing he could just Accio his glasses from here. 

The farthest stall door opened and Harry fuzzily watched the person coming out, stopping for a moment, before walking closer, their pastel blue hair slowly coming into focus. "What are you doing up so late?"

Malfoy flipped the sink next to Harry on. The water ran down Malfoy's pale, slender fingers and palm, and Harry was enraptured as the blurry hands began gently rubbing soap over them.  

"So late?" Malfoy laughed, "I think you mean early? It's nearly four, Harry." 

Harry's gaze jumped to look at the blurry eyes attached to the boy beside him. "Is it really?"

Malfoy dried his hands quickly and cast a Tempus. 3:37. 

"Hm, so it is." 

Malfoy turned towards Harry, gazing at him with a look Harry has never seen him wear before. If he had is glasses on and could see the look more clearly, he believe the gaze would be almost adoring. 

Harry stood up straight as Malfoy leaned in closer to him, close enough that he wasn't even fuzzy to Harry anymore, almost trapping the raven haired boy against the sink, with not only his body but with the warmth that was radiating off of him. "Your eyes are so much brighter without your glasses."

Even though the words weren't exactly a compliment, more of a statement, Harry still felt himself blushing up at Malfoy. As he glanced at Malfoy's own eyes, Harry was enraptured. Now that he was so much closer, Harry could see that they weren't just grey they were almost silver with dark specks throughout. The boy's pupils covered more than half his iris they were so large. Harry found himself leaning in closer. Neither of them were touching the other but Harry still felt the electric sparks run around his body, the warmth now an uncomfortable heat lapping at his insides. Harry's eyes ran across Malfoy's face, landing on the boy's thin lips. Harry gazed at them, wondering what it would be like to touch them, to kiss them, to run a tongue- 

Harry shook his head and looked back towards Malfoy's eyes. Malfoy had seemed to be frozen, his pupils larger than they were before, a ring of what looked like gold surrounded the pupil. 

Suddenly, Malfoy pulled away, instantly forcing himself to relax. After a breath, he blurted, "Want to go down to the kitchens? I could really use a late-night-early-morning snack."

Harry's mouth, which had dried completely from his nerves, began to water at the thought. "Yes, definitely. I need to stop and grab my glasses real quick."

Malfoy made a disapproving noise, "Don't trust me to lead you to the right place, Potter?" The awkward, uncomfortable atmosphere they were just in melted away. 

Harry smirked as he followed his roommate out into the hallway, "Hell no, knowing you you would probably lead me to a hidden room with fake food that was laced with poison."

"Uh, uh. I would lead you to a hidden room with fake food laced with blended poison and watch as you undoubtedly fail at making a proper antidote. I have to get some kind of enjoyment out of it." 

Harry chuckled, "And you would leave me to my devices? How, very rude, Draco Malfoy."

Malfoy smirked over at him, "Maybe if I did that than you would actually learn something about potions."

Harry rolled his eyes as they came to the door, "Wait for me."

When Harry emerged back out the room, glasses placed on his face, he wasn't surprise to find Malfoy waiting for him. He was surprised, however, by the joy that seeing him still standing there gave Harry. 

They walked in silence for the majority of the walk. It was a reminiscent feeling, walking down the dark hallways of the castle. Harry soon found himself lounging for the nights before the war started, the nights where he, usually along with Ron, snuck around the castle looking for things to get into. The upsetting feelings Harry felt when he first woke up came crashing back into him. He unconsciously leaned towards Malfoy, seeking the warmth and electricity that the boy always seems to give him. 

Malfoy looked towards Harry with a worried glance. "What's wrong?"

Harry gave him a small smile, "Nothing, really, I just was thinking about how I used walk around the halls at night like this. Before the war. Before.. everything that has happened." Being surrounded by mostly darkness, and with the knowledge - the hope - that nothing is out to get him anymore, Harry felt safe. Having Malfoy next to him, having their arms brushing with an electric shock every step, brought Harry that safe feeling as well, which didn't scare or confuse him as much as he thought it should. 

Malfoy sent him a smile. "You know, I used to be so jealous about those escapades you three would get into. I'm not sure if I was jealous of the fact that you went on them or the fact that you were never in trouble for them. Merlin, Dumbledore would even give you hundreds of points for going on some of them."

"They were pretty fun sometimes, but most of the time they almost ended with all three of us dying. I think that's why he would give us points like that. Every year it seemed like something was trying to kill me or hurt me and we all were usually able to stop whatever it was, even though we were just children. It's crazy to look back now and think about everything we have been through together. How young we were when we went through all of it." They slowed as they got closer to the bowl of fruit painting. "I try not to think about it too much. The age thing. It just makes me furious thinking about it. The adults, they were suppose to protect us, and some of them did - McGonagal, Snape, Flitwick - but others they almost invited the danger into the castle. Allowed them to-" 

Harry stopped speaking the moment he realize what he said, looking at Malfoy with an 'I'm sorry. I'm an idiot' written across his face.

Malfoy leaned away from Harry, shaking his hair to cover his eyes. "I know the type." 

Harry reached out, but Malfoy turned to the painting with a heavy breath, "No, it's- you should be angry." Draco held his breath, letting it out slowly a few seconds later. "I'm not sure what you know about that night.. about that year, but I didn't want to do it. I never- I couldn't.. Aunt Bella had my mother captive. The Dar- Voldemort said it was either him or her. The women who raised me, took care of me even when darkness over took our home, or a man I only knew from word of mouth and hollow speeches. It wasn't exactly the hardest decision I've ever made. It wasn't until I got to the top of those stairs. Till I saw him. I could tell he was weak.." Malfoy audible gulped. "I could see it in his eyes. He was already basically dead. Even knowing that.. that this man was most likely going to die whether from my hand or not.. I-" His voice broke off.

Harry walked forward, placing his hands on Malfoy's shoulders without hesitation. "I was there, you know, that night. I saw you.. saw the look on your face. Saw you lowering your wand before.. before Snape came in." 

Malfoy left out a heartless laugh, "Snape.. He took an oath. Took an Unbreakable Oath to protect me. To finish out my mission if I failed. That's why he did it. To protect me. Not only that but to protect his stance with the Dark Lord. He knew if the Oath was broken, your side would have no way of knowing what was happening on theirs."

Harry rubbed Malfoy's shoulders, electricity burning at his skin, leaning over the boy, he began tickling the pear on the painting. "What has happened has happened. No one can go back and change anything, even if they wanted."

Harry stepped around Malfoy and into the kitchen before turning back to him, trying to push how much he means his next words with his voice and facial expressions. "Even with all the deaths, all the pain. I, honestly, think a few things seemed to have worked out alright in the end."

Harry stood right outside the door leading to the courtyard. The past two days, Harry spent much of his free time with Malfoy or studying with Hermione. He found himself genuinely enjoying the sarcastic, blue-haired boy's company. He constantly was making jokes, replying to Harry with sarcasm every chance he got, and picking on Harry quite often - mainly his hair, his no sense of style, and potions work- which Harry didn't really mind when it was said without the old sneer that used to accompany the remarks. Harry was also becoming obsessed and a little more than curious of the weird sensations he has continued to get around the boy. Even just being in the boy's presence was doing things to Harry that he has never felt with any other girl or boy. The feeling was become addicting.   

Harry watched the various groups of students bounce around the courtyard with excitement for the first Hogsmead trip of the year. He had told Hermione and Malfoy to meet him right at the entrance. He was beginning to get extremely nervous as he waited for his friend and his.. new friend? He had yet to tell Hermione about Malfoy joining them. Every time he mentioned him or even spoke to him, Hermione would freeze up and clamp her jaw shut. This weekend, Harry was hoping, that maybe if he got them to hang out together they would figure out how much they had in common, because they did have so much in common - obsessing over school work, constantly reading and learning even when they don't have to, constantly badgering Harry to do his work, fighting for the rights of house elves, their want to get into the ministry to try and fix the corrupt systems. It was almost scary the amount they had in common. 

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts as an arm looped around his own. 

"Ready?" Hermione asked with a bright smile. Today was the first day she would be seeing Ron since school had started, and Harry could tell she was trying to conceal her excitement.

"Yeah, but, um," Harry turned towards the door, "'Mione, I was hoping-"

"Hey, Harry. Granger."

Harry turned and smiled at the sight of Malfoy. 

Malfoy looked at Harry with an bashful smile, "You excited?"

The girl beside Harry tensed up as she looked at the blue-haired boy as if he had magically grown two heads, "Excited for what, Malfoy?" She said his name like it was gum on the bottom of her new black flats.

Harry looked at his best friend with a sheepish grin, "Well, I thought it would be okay if Malfoy came with us to Hogsmead. We are meeting Ron so I figured you would want some time alone with him for a while and I didn't really fancy being alone." Or a third wheel, was the unspoken ending of that sentence.

Hermione looked towards the boy, eyes stuck between being angry and disappointed. Her eyes ran in between her best friend and the human she despised the most, besides Voldemort and Bellatrix.

"No."

Harry's smile, along with Malfoy's, broke, just like Hermione's voice from that one little word.

"Her-" Harry started, but stopped when Malfoy tapped his arm.

He looked up at the boy, but his gaze was firmly on Hermione.

"It's alright. I completely understand. Over the years, I know I have torn you down, Granger, I know that and I could never show nor tell you just how sorry I am about it. And I know there is nothing I could ever say or do to earn your forgiveness, and I'm not asking for it. But I really am sorry for all I have done and said to both you and about your family and your boyfriend and your cat."

"My cat?"

"-the point is: I'm so very sorry." He nodded towards her, in a silent bow. "I'll see you later, Harry. Have fun."

He walked back towards the castle. Harry stared down at where Malfoy had touched him, relishing in the fire that even that small touch provided, before he realized what Malfoy had said.

Hermione and Harry stared after him, both shocked for different reasons. 

"He just apologized to me."

"He just said my name."

They both looked at each other. 

"I need butterbeer, maybe something stronger."

"Ditto."

The day passed uneventfully. Harry, of course, became a third wheel after they left the pub, so he excused himself and walked around the streets aimlessly. He stopped at a few shops, though he only ended up buying candy from Honeydukes Sweetshop. Strolling down towards the path that lead to back to school, the aroma of baked goods and coffee drew him into a quaint bookshop/cafe.

Stepping in, he had to take a moment before his eyes fully adjusted from the bright, sunny day to the dim lights in the store. It was much bigger on the inside than it looked on the out. There was a pine wood circular desk right at the entrance, and a tall lady that reminded him of a much older Madame Pomfrey sat behind what looked like a muggle computer and a younger girl stood beside her scanning books with her wand. Pass the desk, were at least twenty rows of shelves, with what looked like even more shelves the further you went into the store. There was also small rooms on the left hand side, most of them left open but two with closed doors with an "Occupied" sign on it. On the right of the entrance was where the little cafe was. Witches and Wizards alike sat with various to-go cups and books laying about their tables.

Harry began walking to the cafe when he suddenly felt a wave of small shocks down his arms and back. He looked behind him, recognizing the sensations immediately, his eyes searched for Malfoy, but couldn't see him anywhere. Curious, he turned away from the cafe and began walking deeper into the library. 

He walked up and down a few shelves before he caught a glimpse of blue hair walking pass the row Harry was down. Harry quickly strolled over to the end of the isle, looking around the shelves, spotting the familiar face of his roommate. 

Malfoy was sitting on a comfy looking leather couch with multiple books stacked beside him, one of the bigger books sitting in his lap. Watching Malfoy sitting in a library with shiny blue hair, with his eyebrows furled and lips pressed into a thin line from concentration, had a different kind of warmth fill up Harry's belly. He thought for a moment about going over to him, talking to him, maybe even questioning about Fleur or the tingles, something he has been wanting to do but has been too afraid to ask, but couldn't bring himself to do so. The boy that was sitting in front of him looked so serious and concentrated, he felt he couldn't break that. So, Harry stood behind a shelf, watching the boy open the heavy tome in his lap for a second longer than turned away. 

He shook his head, pushing the lingering warmth and tingling sensations away and with a sigh, Harry walked out the library, and headed back to the castle. 

The rest of the weekend went by too fast, in Harry's opinion. Waking up on Monday morning with knowledge that the first thing he is going to do is brew a potion and be force to listen to Slughorn's dull and boring lectures, makes Harry want to pretend he is dying just to stay in the warmth of his bed. 

After accidentally falling back asleep for the third time, Harry finally forced himself out of bed. The dorm room was empty, seeing as all of his roommates were more than likely eating a hearty, well-balanced breakfast in the Great Hall. His stomach rumbled thinking about it. He quickly threw his clothes on, grabbed a half eaten chocolate bar from the night before, and rushed out the room.

He amazingly made it just in time to the potions classroom. He fell into the first open chair he could find, dropping his bag to the floor and his head to the arm he had laid out on the table. 

He felt a knee nudging his thigh. Tingles formed around his leg from the soft touch. He opened one eye and saw Draco Malfoy looking at him with humor laced across his face, a single eyebrow raised, "Rough night, Potter?" 

There was a slight thickness in Malfoy's voice that Harry was sure wasn't there the day before. 

He raised his head as Professor Slughorn wobbled in, "Rough life, Malfoy."

They shared a glance as Slughorn began speaking, "Today, we will be brewing Girding Potion. You will work together with your table partner, with no complaints. At the end of class, if the potion is presentable and safe - which it should be, this is Advanced Potions; both of you will take it." He flicked his wand and all the instructions flew onto the blackboard, "Begin."

"I'll get the stuff." Harry mumbled before walking to the cabinet. 

When Harry returned, Malfoy had set the cauldron up and was looking through his Advance Potions textbook.

"Uh, Malfoy, you do know he put the instructions on the board, right?" 

Malfoy thumbed through the book, his finger scanning the passages, "Yes, Potter, I am aware but the board's instructions do not go into the details that the book does."

Harry stared into the cauldron, "What do we add first?"

"You're the genius that pointed out the instructions are on the board, why don't you tell me?"

Harry rolled his eyes, facing away from the cauldron and towards the board, "Fairy wings."

Harry looked towards Malfoy, noticing he had tensed slightly, finger freezing in its movements down the page. His skin seemed to turn even whiter than it normally is, competing with the white snow that falls every winter. In the blink of an eye, the boy relaxed again and continued skimming the book, the only indication of his discomfort was the still slightly tensed shoulders and the worry-inducing paleness. Harry wanted to reach over and soothe the rest of the tension out of his neck, but quickly diminished the idea knowing Malfoy wouldn't be very accepting of it.

Turning his mind quickly away from the thought, he picked up a fairy wing and placed it in pot.

"Make sure to adjust the heat." Harry looked to the boy, his voice was definitely deeper than it was a few moments ago.

Harry adjusted the heat and waited for the turquoise color to show. When it finally did, Harry added the doxy eggs.

Harry turned towards the boy that still has yet to look up from his text book, "Hey, are you alright?"

Malfoy turned, shocked at how much worry seemed to ring through Harry's words, "Yeah, I am.. just.. rough life, you know?"

Malfoy's smile was sad, and Harry knew he had to wipe the sadness away. He reached over, lightly touching Malfoy's arm, causing the boy to suck in his breath and the electricity to return to Harry's hand. Harry glanced down at his hand for a moment, before ignoring the feeling to focus on the boy instead, "Well, if you want to talk about it, you know where I stay. In case you can't remember, I could draw you a map to be able to get to my quarters easier."

Malfoy's lips, which had fallen into a thoughtful frown, went up at the edges, showing the beginning of a smirk, "You know, I'm almost as bad at directions as you are with potions, so I think I might need that map drawn out for me."

This smile, Harry thought, was much better. 

The class moved smoothly from then on. Malfoy continued to hold a little bit of tension in his shoulders and neck, Harry continued to push away the thought of helping him rid the tight muscles, every tiny touch the two shared sent what felt like literal sparks onto Harry's skin, and their potion turned out the perfect shade of gold. 

Slughorn hummed his approval as he walked pass them, only looking just a little bit upset that they did it correctly. After Slughorn found out about the book Harry was using during sixth year, he instantly took a dislike to him. He also didn't care too much for the Malfoy heir, either, because, well, he is the Malfoy heir. 

When time came to take the potion, Harry poured him one and then poured Malfoy one as well. 

Over the course of the two hour class, Malfoy had slowly regained what little color he had in his skin, but as soon as Harry placed the cup in front of him, he turned white as a ghost once again and backed away from the cup like it might explode on him.

"Malfoy, are you sure-"

"I can't drink that."

Harry paused, looking at the drink and then up at his partner, "You can't drink the potion? We did everything correctly, are you allergic to-"

Malfoy raised his hand slightly, speaking before he was even called upon, "Professor, I am deeply sorry but I can't participate in drinking the potion."

Slughorn turned, both eyebrows raised, "If you want all of your marks you best drink the potion. I know you are not allergic to any of the ingredients, we have used them all before."

Malfoy's hands started to shake, he quickly hid them under the table, "No, sir, I am not but-"

"Then I don't see the problem here."

Malfoy's face looked panicked. Harry was hit with a desperate need to take Malfoy out of this situation. 

"Professor, If Mal- if Draco says he can't take the potion, he shouldn't be forced to." 

Malfoy, along with the rest of the class turned towards Harry.

"Well, if the Great Savoir says it, we must all oblige, correct?" 

"Professor-"

"If you need a deeper reasoning, I can go get Headmistress McGonagal, Professor." Malfoy's voice, while he spoke quietly, was forceful enough to quiet any whispers that they other students were saying. 

Every student watched the exchange on the edge of their seats, waiting to see who would speak next.

They didn't do a very good job at hiding their disappointment when Slughorn pressed his lips together, muttering 'Do what you want.'  as he walked towards the front of the class. Everyone turned back to their potions and drank. 

When Harry looked back towards his table mate, there was a look of astonishment in his eyes, with a bit of confusion as well. Looking into Malfoy's steel colored eyes, Harry felt as if he was standing by a blazing fire, with heat lapping at his skin. He felt drawn to the boy, not able to see anything, feel anything other than the boy standing in front of him. He felt as if his whole being was meant to be wrapped around the soft warmth that this beautiful creature staring back at him has constantly provided him with for days on end. He wasn't sure how long they stood staring but when Malfo- no, Draco forcibly looked away, Harry realized that the classroom was now void of all students, with only Slughorn sitting at his desk. Harry turned back to Draco - because for some reason his mind can't stop with the Draco - and realized they were almost chest to chest. Harry bounced back quickly, as Malfoy did the same. 

Malfoy backed away slowly, almost tripping over his bag, before stuttering out an apology and rushing out the room, leaving the potion and all of Draco's belonging for Harry to take care of. 

Harry couldn't bring himself to mind. 

He quickly got rid of their potion and grabbed his and Malfoy's things. Hermione was standing next to the exit door with a curious look on her face.

Harry walked towards her, "What?"

Hermione began to speak as they made their way out the hall, "I think I know who that little girl is that Malfoy talks to."

"You do?"

Hermione hummed in confirmation, not elaborating anymore until they where were he and Hermione had to split up for their next class.

"I think it's Fleur's little sister, Gabriella Delacore." 

The next few days were spent in quiet observation and complete confusion for Harry, even more than they usually were. Draco - yes, his mind seemed to be adamant about referring to the blue-haired boy as such -  seemed to be ignoring him. He has caught glimpses of the boy on multiple occasions dodging around corridors and into classroom just to not have to be in the presence of Harry. Even in classes they shared, Draco stays far away from him, refusing to even glance his way. In their rooms, he left before anyone got up and went to bed after everyone was asleep. It was beginning to agitate Harry to no end. 

After Hermione had dropped the bomb about the little girl being Fleur's little sister, Harry began searching more to see if it was true. With a closer glance, he began seeing the resemblance, with further digging he found that it truly was Fleur's sister. Since that day after potions, Harry hasn't gotten the chance to properly talk to Hermione about that situation nor the Malfoy one. He was a little glad he hasn't be able to yet because he is still on the fence about whether he should mention his Malfoy situation and about Fleur being in their room the first day of the semester or not. Seeing as Draco and the girl seemed intertwined, he figured he would have to tell her. 

After four days of being ignored, Harry was getting beyond agitated. He tried cornering Malfoy multiple times the past two days but couldn't ever get him. He finally had his chance again while heading to the kitchens for a late afternoon snack. He was about to pass the entrance of their common room, when the door had swung open, Draco stumbling out, causing Harry to jump slightly. The two looked at each other blankly for a moment before fear over took Draco and relief, which morphed quickly into concern, over took Harry. 

When Draco began to backpedal, Harry felt frustration jump at him. He grabbed Draco's wrist roughly, pulling him completely out of the common room entrance. He pulled him behind a tapestry he knew was an entrance to an abandoned hallway before turning back to him.

"You have been avoiding me and I'd like to know why." 

Draco rubbing the back of his neck, looking at anything but the black-haired boy in front of him, "No, I.. I'm not. I'm not."

Harry folded his arms over his chest, "Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"

Draco looked up at him for a split second and then turned away, trying to back away, but Harry had his body angled in a way that had Draco stuck between him and the wall. Harry couldn't quite place why he cared so much about Draco ignoring him. Yeah, Draco has been the only person that has carried an actual conversation with him that wasn't to do with school or the war the past few weeks, and yeah he kinda sorta enjoys his company, but Harry's never felt as pent up as he does right now. Even when Ron or Hermione would ignore him, Harry would be upset and a little angry, but when Draco won't even look at Harry, it makes Harry want to shake the blue-haired boy and scream until his lungs give out. 

When Draco still refuses to look at him, Harry growls, lifting Draco's chin up till their eyes meet. 

Harry felt the slight pull of getting lost into he depth of the other boy's eyes, the sparks coming from where he was touching Draco traveling up and down his body. 

"Please," Harry said, desperately, "Did I do something wrong?"

Draco opened and closed his mouth several times before clenching his jaw shut, shaking his head and turning it towards the dark, empty hallway.

Harry let out an exasperated groan, "Than what is it, Draco? Why haven't you even looked at me in four -nearly five days?"

Draco put his head in his hands for a moment, shaking his head and breathing in soft and slow, "Ican'tcontrolit." He mumbled into his hands quickly. 

Harry pulled at Draco's hands, dropping them quickly with a gasp as a shock ran through Harry's entire body, stronger than any shock he has felt yet. His eyes were wide as he looked between his hands and Draco's. Harry felt curiosity pulling his hands back to Draco's instantly, needing to feel the feeling again.

As he reached for Draco's hands, Draco, in a flash, pulled his hands away, gripping Harry's shoulders and switched their position so Harry was the one trapped between the boy and the wall. 

Their bodies were pressed together tightly, almost causing Harry to pass out from the feeling of lightening bolts and flames that struck at every nerve in the raven-haired boy's body. Harry moved his forehead against Draco's, too light headed to keep it up straight. 

Both of their breath was coming out as gasp, mingling with each other and teasing their lips. 

As Harry finally felt the strength to open his eyes again, he found Draco holding his own so tightly it looked like it hurt. Harry moved his hand up, brushing a soft strand of blue hair behind the boy's ear.

The movement had Draco's eyes thrown open, the darkest steel grey Harry had ever seen looking at him with gold wrapped around his pupils. Reality seem to hit Draco like a truck and he slammed his body across the hall, hitting his head against the bricks. 

"I'm so sorry, Harry." Draco looked like he was on the verge of tears. Harry tried to reach out but Draco flew a few feet away, "No, please, Harry, I can't- I can't control- I can't stop it. Please, I can't hurt you, so please.." Draco spun quickly and ran through the tapestry. 

Harry wanted to chase after him, wanted to let him know that it's okay, he wanted to comfort the boy who had just been in his embrace. But he didn't. The brokenness in Draco's voice, the confusion in the words, stopped Harry from moving, stopped Harry from breathing, with Draco gone it seems as though it stopped Harry from being.. Harry.

Harry sat at a desk all the way in the back of the library staring out the window, watching as rain poured from the sky, creating tiny ponds throughout the grassy fields. No matter what he did, he couldn't get Draco out of his mind. He honestly missed the damn git so much it physically hurt. Today, Saturday, Draco was out the room before any of the other boys were even up, as usual. Harry isn't sure how considering he has been up since nearly five in the morning, from another nightmare. It was his fifth one this week alone. After hours of sitting in the library and going over multiple different theories and coming up with nothing solid about the Malfoy situation, he finally broke and asked Hermione for help. 

So, now he sat in the back of the library with a determined Hermione flipping rapidly through multiple different books at once. What she was looking for, he wasn't sure. When Harry was looking earlier he didn't know what he was looking for either but he remembered Hermione saying how every answer can be found in a book of some sort, so he just began looking through any book he deemed would show him an answer. 

He could tell with every page she flipped, she was becoming more and more agitated. She let out a sigh, slamming the book she was flipping through shut and pushing it away from her. "You haven't seen Fleur since that day?" He shook his head. "Maybe I should Floo Ron, he can ask Bill or something. The only possible thing I can think of is that Malfoy is a Veela, but that's nearly impossible, especially to be a male full-blooded Veela. These days, from what I have gathered, it's unheard of. With the reactions you are having towards him, the need to take care of him, he would have to be at least half-breed or more to pull this strong of a connection. Anything less than that wouldn't cause the.. electric feeling you get around him, at least not to the intensity you are describing." 

Harry let out a breath, "I'm not sure what talking to Bill or Fleur would do. I doubt they would tell us anything. I just wish the damn bastard would talk to me. I don't care if he is some half-bird or hald-fish or half-.. anything. I just want to talk to him, and not just because of these weird sensations but because he is actually nice to talk to."

Hermione looked down towards the table with a solemn expression. She took a moment to gather her courage before facing Harry head on. "You like him don't you?"

Harry's eyes widened. Did he? As a friend, definitely, but he knew that's not what Hermione was hinting at. He thought back to the bathroom when he had wanted nothing more than to kiss Draco's lips and to the hallway were he thought they might kiss before Draco pulled away.

"I think.. I might? I'm honestly not sure. Being roomed with him we have just gotten a lot closer I guess. He isn't really that bad of a bloke anymore. Honestly, I would go as far as saying he is extremely friendly. Which is something I never thought I'd say about Malfoy." 

Hermione's eyes seem to have glazed over slightly. "You know I love you, Harry. I love you no matter who you fancy or love or care for.. but how can- how did you get pass all the things he has done to us? To you?"

Harry shrugged, grasping Hermione's hands in his own, "I just pushed pass the hate, I guess. When we first talked he told me that he was tired of fighting and I realized how tired of it I was too. I have been fighting for my entire life. The Dursley's, Draco, Snape, Voldemort.. the list is never ending and I realized I didn't want to live like that anymore. So, I pushed the hate away. I didn't forget, I don't know if I can ever forget, but I heard him out. He explained some things about his life that I never even thought about. I always saw him, along with majority of the other Slytherins, as these two-dimensional characters that were just out to be bullies but it was so much more than that, Hermione. They were just as lost and terrified as we were. Kids stuck in a war they never asked to be a part of."

Hermione rubbed her thumb over the back of Harry's hand as she spoke with a small smile, "When did you get so enlightened?"

Harry chuckled, softly. "I think being in the Hufflepuff's old room is doing some crazy things to my head."

They laughed quietly. After a few moments they decided to retire back to their rooms, planning to meet again after breakfast tomorrow. 

Harry slowly made his way towards his dorms, not in any hurry to be ignored by his roommate for the sixth day in a row. 

He was just passing by what he thought was an empty class room, when he felt the pull of warmth, pulling him towards the closed door. He stopped, taking a moment to feel the familiar warmth that he has missed over the past week, and then he pressed his ear to the door.

"-can't. You know that." A strong french-accented female voice rang out.

"Why not? I have heard of it happening, people denying their mate!" Instantly, he knew the voice was Malfoy and the female voice was Fleur.

He heard a shuffle. "Yes, and have you looked at what happens to them when there mate is denied? It doesn't end well. For either parties."

There was a pause, Harry almost backed away, afraid they were about to leave the room, but then a soft, broken voice spoke. Harry had to strain to hear what he was saying, only being able to make out every other word. 

"How? -doesn't -we wouldn't be able to do an- I just want to be normal."

"I know. But trust me, things will work out. You have to quit fighting it, try say, talking to him. He is strong, he can handle it. I have heard stories."

Harry heard a sniffle. "But, Fleur, how can I control myself? When I'm near him, when he touches me, it's like the Veela wants to take over. I have to fight it to stay calm but it keeps getting stronger. I'm afraid I might hurt him if it comes out.. I can't hurt him. Not after.. everything. I can't-" He broke off with what sounded like a sob. 

Harry instantly stood up, hand on the door knob. intending to march in there and coddle the boy, before he even realized what he was doing. He jerked his hand away and fled as he heard footsteps walking around the room. 

Potions the next Friday was one of the worst ones yet. Harry couldn't focus, he constantly was looking back towards Draco. He was worried for the stupid prat. His eyes looked sunk-in, his lips chapped, his cheek hollow. It looked as if with one hard swoop of wind, the boy would collapse or fly away with the wind. Harry felt icky about listening in on the private conversation he heard last Saturday. He tried to wash the ickiness away but it never worked. Every time he saw the boy or saw something of the boy's or saw something that reminded him of the boy the ickiness intensified.

Harry still wasn't sure exactly what Draco and Fleur were talking about, but with the research him and Hermione had conducted over that weekend and the single word mate constantly rolling through Harry's head, he made what he thinks is a pretty good guess. Draco Malfoy is a Veela. Or part-veela, at the very least. He opted to not tell Hermione what he heard Saturday after they left the library. He felt bad enough about eavesdropping to begin with and couldn't bring himself to speak about the private conversation he heard. Even now, the sound of Draco's voice being broken up and seemingly terrified wouldn't stop ringing in his ears.

Every time he has seen the boy in the past few days, Draco has looked worst and worst. His skin is constantly pale and slightly blue, his eyes stay blood shot with dark moons under them, his cheeks constantly hollowed out. Seeing Draco like that has begun making Harry sick. With every ounce of his being he wanted to wrap the boy up and force him to take care of himself. It shattered Harry's heart, Harry's soul to push the want away. He felt physically sick at having to just ignore the boy. He tried speaking to him Tuesday night and Draco nearly blew up the empty hallway's walls. After that, Harry decided that he wasn't going to help unless Draco came to him. 

Harry was very much regretting that decision. 

As soon as Slughorn dismissed them, Harry began collecting his things. He turned towards the door, glancing at the table Draco was at, noticing that he was still there at the table. He had his head down, face towards the wall. Harry walked closer, placing his hand on the table next the boys head.

"Draco?" He asked tentatively, "Are you awake?" Harry leaned closer, noticing how the boy seem to be barely breathing. He dropped his bag instantly and went to where Draco's face was. 

His heart dropped at the blood that was pooling at Draco's mouth. 

"Oh my god.." He grabbed Draco's shoulder and shook them hard, "Draco! Wake up!" 

Slughorn wobbled over, noticing the blood, his face paled and he sent for Madame Pomfrey. 

Harry stroked his hand through Draco's hair, whispering comforting words into the boys shoulder. He held onto the back of his robes tightly as he waited for Pomfrey. 

"Where is he?" A frantic voice broke through the room. Harry was pulled away from Draco as Madame Pomfrey began running test and mumbling to herself. 

"Is he okay? What's wrong with him?" Harry's voice broke with every word but he couldn't care less. He just wanted Draco to be okay. That's all that mattered. 

A soft hand began pushing Harry towards the door.

"No!" Harry turned back towards Draco, "I'm not leaving him!" 

The hand traveled up to Harry's shoulder, "It's okay Harry. We are just going to the infirmary." 

Harry looked towards the speaker and gasped at the sight of Fleur. "He- Is- I tried to- I-"

Fleur rubbed at Harry's shoulders as he turned back towards the injured boy, who was now laid out floating into the air. 

"I know.. It's alright. Come." 

Harry allowed himself to be pushed out the room, only if he was able to walk along side Draco. 

There was still a slight warmth radiating from Draco's body, but all Harry could feel was the cold, deep emptiness that was swallowing his own. How could he let this happen? Why didn't he force Draco to talk to him? He should of pushed harder, especially after knowing what could happen to Veela's without their mates. He should have tried harder. Why didn't he try harder?

Harry reached out and grabbed one of Draco's hands that were tucked against his side. The hand felt cold, but still gave tiny shocks to Harry's arm. 

Harry was forced to stay outside the infirmary while Pomfrey continued treatments. He reluctantly complied. He wasn't sure how long he sat there staring at the large wooden doors, but when Madame Pomfrey, along with Fleur and McGonagal came through, his whole body was aching. 

He stood, trying to peak through the door as they exited. "Is he okay?" 

"Harry, why don't we go to my office and chat?" McGonagal spoke softly. 

Harry hesitated. "Is he alright?"

The women shared a look that Harry couldn't read. 

"Let's go-"

"No." Harry cut off the Headmistress, "I'm.. I'm sorry but no. I'm not leaving. Please, I can't leave.. Please tell me he is okay." 

"Why don't we set you up in one of the private rooms to chat, Headmistress?" Madame Pomfrey offered. 

Fleur spoke up, "I think that would be for the best."

McGonagal nodded, and followed Pomfrey down the hall. Harry sent a longing look towards the door, but reluctantly allowed Fleur to push him away. 

Once they all settled in, Fleur was the first to speak, "Harry, Draco has had a very, how do you say.. traumatizing experience since the months after the war. Since his birthday. I know you know of the Veela blood that runs through my veins, I don't keep that hidden, but Draco, his family holds the same blood." She paused, waiting for a sign of acknowledgement. Harry nodded, and she continued. "The blood that runs through his veins is much different than mine, however. The Malfoy family is very old family, with many things laced in it. As far as I know, the Malfoy's haven't had a true Veela in centuries, that is until Draco."

"I thought Veela were just women? I read about them occasionally having men but it's extremely rare, isn't it?"

Fleur nodded, "Yes, Draco's situation is extremely rare. Not only him being male, but also him being the first nearly full-blooded Veela to surface in many years."

"We aren't very certain why Mister Malfoy has these.. gifts," McGonagal spoke up, "But we know there isn't much we can do to stop them. Mister Malfoy has been lucky to have people in his life to help him through this time."

"Draco has been with Bill and I since his inheritance come to light. We have been helping any way we can. I am only part so I don't have nearly the struggles Draco has, but being from a family of Veela, we have been able to help him control himself and learn more about his heritage."

There was a small pause as Harry processed the information, most of which he had already figured out on his own. "And.. I'm his mate."

All the women took in a breath. 

Pomfrey stood up straighter, "Harry, how do you.."

Harry shrugged, "Kinda obvious. I have been getting these strange feelings lately when I am around him. Over the past few weeks they have continuously gotten stronger and very intense. I did some research, with Hermione's help, and I started studying up on Veela because that was the only thing that could really make sense." He looked to Fleur, "I saw you the first night back at school, leaving Draco's bed, I heard the end of your conversation." 

Fleur looked off, recalling the conversation. "Yeah, Draco was scared. He felt something when he touched your hand.."

Harry took a deep breath and asked the question that has been on his mind for weeks, "What was he talking about being too dangerous?"

Fleur looked at Harry deeply before whispering, "You."

The rest of the evening and night went by dreadfully slow. After his conversation with Fleur, McGonagal and Pomfrey, they forced him to head to bed. He attempted to sneak in that night but Pomfrey had set alarms up and had caught him, even with his invisibility cloak. He was told he could come to see Draco after all of his classes. 

He didn't sleep much the rest of the night but the little sleep he did have, it was filled with blue hair, steel eyes, and lots of blood and anguish. 

At least it was a new nightmare, Harry thought. The old ones were getting tiring. 

The next day went by very, very slowly as well. He felt like even his blinks were a second longer than normal. By lunch time, Harry couldn't stop the bouncing of his leg. 

"Harry, you are shaking the table." Hermione muttered around her spoon of brussels sprouts. 

"Sorry," He grabbed him bag, "I am just going to go walk or something. I can't just sit here." 

Hermione put her spoon down, "Do you need me to come with you?"

He shook his head, "I'll be alright, 'Mione." He kissed the top of her head and walked towards the doors.

"Oi, Potter!" He turned back towards the hall at Pansy Parkinson marching towards him, looking furious. "What the hell did you do to him? I know its you. It's always fucking you. What the fuck did you do!?"

Blaise Zabini materialized in front of him, putting himself between Harry and the angry girl. "Pans, calm. You know it doesn't matter what he did, you can't kill him."

Pansy's eyes continued throwing daggers at Harry's, "No, but I can hurt him real good."

"And when Draco finds out? Nothing could stop him from coming for your head, and you know it." He leaned in closer so only Pansy and Harry could hear, "Even without his inheritance you know how possessive and defensive Draco is."

She turned her eyes to the side. Harry could see the water welling up in them. He could instantly see how much she seemed to care immensely for Draco.

He glanced behind the two Slytherins, noticing how everyone was watching them, even the professors. "Look, I was just going on a walk. Would you like to join me and I can explain? At least, explain what little I know?"

They glanced at each other, then walked out the hall. Harry walked out with them. 

They sat in a tense silence out by the big oak tree. The tree where he and Draco had their first actual conversation that didn't end in a fist fight or cruel words.

Parkinson was the one to break the silence, "Do you love him?" she whispered. 

Harry turned to her, but her eyes stayed focused on the lake in front of them. He sighed and looked out as well, "I don't know. I know I care for him. I know I feel his energy and I love the feeling of being around him. I like his personality, his openness, his stupid humor, the way he holds himself, the way he holds me, his eyes.." 

Zabini snorted, "Yeah, definitely no love there."

Harry swallowed thickly, picking at his nails. "I don't-" He paused unsure on if he should be spilling his secretes to two snakes that he has never once held a conversation with. Knowing they feel for Draco the way he feels for Hermione and Ron, has him continuing, "I've never been in love before. I've never even felt love until-" His closed eye tightly, refusing to let his emotions best him. "I don't exactly know what love is. I can't tell you I love him because I don't know. All I can give you is I would give myself up for him. I would take a bullet for him."

Parkinson leaned back against the tree, looking up at the leaves, "Normally that would be enough but seeing as you are a Gryffindor and, oh, I don't know, the bloody Savior, that speech does very little to appease me."

Harry looked out to the lake. He would die for Draco, he knew he would without question. He also knew that if he died, Draco would too soon after. So.. would he live for Draco? Against all odds, stay alive, stay out of harms way in order to keep Draco alive? Even with his Gryffindor sense of bravery, would he choose to stay on the side lines if things got too dangerous? At first thought, it was an instant no, but thinking deeper, thinking about what it would do to Draco, how he would die slowly, oh-so-slowly, if something happened to him, he knew he would protect himself too.

He looked towards Parkinson, "I would live for him. Against all odds, even if I know I could help someone, if it is too dangerous, too life threatening I would turn, let someone else help them, if it meant that it would keep Draco alive and safe. If it meant Draco would be okay. I would take a bullet for him, but you're right, I would take a bullet for pretty much anyone. But for Draco, I would not only die for him, I would also choose to live for him." 

Parkinson sat observing him. She searched his face, finally nodding as she found what she was looking for. "I don't like you, Potter. Lord knows why Draco does. But he does and if you truly are his mate, I know we will be seeing a lot of each other. Draco is my best friend and has been for a long time. I would take a bullet for him, only that statement actually means something for someone like me. I don't trust you, not at all, but Draco seems to. If he wants you in his life, then I can live with you sometimes being in mine too."

Harry sighed, "I guess I can live with you in mine as well." He thought for a moment. "You keep saying 'choose'.. I thought he doesn't have a choice in the matter?"

Pansy snorted, "He doesn't but if Draco really doesn't want something than he would do everything he can to ignore it and push it away, even if it killed him."

Harry suddenly felt his heart race and shatter in the same moment. "He pushed me away."

The two Slytherins turned towards him. 

Harry stood up, crossing his arms. "When.. when we.. Anytime we would get close close he would push me away. I have been trying to get him to talk for the past week, but he continued to ignore me and now he.. oh god." A rush of despair hit his chest, causing him to topple over. 

"Potter?" Strong harms grabbed his shoulders, holding him in a sitting position, "Potter? What's going on?" 

When Harry opened his eyes, Pansy was holding his face, "-rry. Potter? Harry, dammit!" 

Harry let out a slow breath, "Draco doesn't.. he doesn't want me.. he just feels pulled because of.. because.."

Pansy was shaking her head, "Believe me, he does. He does want you, Potter. What do you mean he pushes you away? How does he do it?"

Harry continued to focus on his breathing as he leaned back against the hard chest behind him, "He told me.. he pushes me away.. the last time we got close, he almost knocked himself out trying to get away from me and he kept saying that he can't control it.. he looked terrified and he just kept apologizing. He doesn't want me.. the Veela does."

Pansy sat back with a small smile, "Oh, Potter, darling. He isn't pulling back because he doesn't want you, he is pulling back because he doesn't want to hurt you. He has feelings for you, strong feelings, and he is afraid that when the Veela comes out, he won't be able to control himself."

There was a slight pause. Harry sat up straighter and Zabini moved back to give him space. 

"You know, when Draco used to talk about you," Zabini, who has stayed silent, spoke up quietly, "I always felt like there was something more than just a childhood rivalry. You being his mate makes more sense than you could even comprehend." He smiled softly. "The boy was obsessed. All through school, 'Potter-this, Potter-that.'"

"'Did you see Potter's robes he wore today? Absolutely dreadful. The color does nothing for his eyes.'" Parkinson mocked, with a smirk. 

"'Did you see how Potter ignored me in charm today? He is such an ignorant prat.'"

"'I can't believe that Potter would do something as foolish as put his name in that cup. Doesn't he know how dangerous it is? Stupid attention-seeking Gryffindor.'"

"'Pans, Blaise, Potter wouldn't even look at me today and I was wearing my most expensive cloak. I bet he couldn't even tell the difference between Twilfitt and Malkins'"

Harry found himself grinning, "He really said things like that?"

"Potter, darling," Parkinson drawled, "You have no idea. Nearly eight years of it. It was horrible. Now, we know why at least. Maybe now he will talk less about you because he will be so busy snogging you." 

Zabini chuckled, "Pans, if you think that you have another thing coming. After all this Draco is coming in hot with the Potter talk. Only this time, it will be good things and you damn well know how he gets when he talks about things he is, err, passionate about."

Parkinson's eyes got wide, "Oh no. I'm going to have to move to the states. Or Austria. Or Canada. I'd take a bullet for him, but I don't know if I can take a lifetime of talking about Potter for him."

Harry laughed, "I am sitting right here." 

They both waved him off and stood up, Harry following. 

"Well, since we will be seeing you often, the least we can do to show Draco we approve is call each other by our given names? Eh, Harry." Zabini elbowed him. 

Pansy pushed her bottom lip out into a pout, "Do we have to? Isn't it good enough that we aren't killing him?"

Harry turned towards Zabini- Blaise, "I couldn't agree more. See you later, Blaise. Pansy." 

He turned around and trudge back up to the castle, anxious to get the next set of classes over with. 

The rest of the day went by much faster than the first half. He even settled his nerves enough to eat a whole sandwich. Hermione insisted on walking with him down to the hospital wing, wanting to be there for him in case it was bad news. Or in case they decide Harry can't see Draco and she would have to intervene so he doesn't hurt any professors. 

"How was your chat with the snakes?"

Harry pulled his bag more securely on his shoulder. "It actually wasn't bad. I could tell that they really care about Draco. Za-Blaise even offered for us to call each other by given names. It is for Draco, but still. It's a nice gesture. It's crazy, thinking of Slytherins as nice. This year has been an odd one already and its not even Christmas yet."

Hermione laughed, "You think? You are literally the mate to a guy we only knew as a bully growing up and have some how became pals with Parkinson and Zabini over a short conversation down by a lake. Ron is going to wish he was here when I tell him all of this.. you don't mind if I tell him do you?"

Harry thought for a moment, "I think.. I think I should be the one to tell him. I'll Floo him tonight or tomorrow, depending on how this is about to go."

Hermione nodded as they stopped in front of the hospital wing doors. 

She put a hand on Harry's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, "Just promise me I'll be your maid of honor."

Harry rolled his eyes with a smile, pushing through the doors. 

The room was quiet when the two students walked in. Madame Pomfrey, McGonagal, Fleur and Narcissa Malfoy stood around an empty bed. The tension in the room could've been sliced with a knife. 

Narcissa turned towards Harry. Seeing her for the first time since her trail. He swallowed thickly. "Mister Potter, Miss Granger."

"Where is he?" Harry instantly asked. 

"My son is in a private room, Mister Potter. He is resting."

Harry turned to Pomfrey, "Can I see him? I don't even have to stay or talk.. I just want to see him."

The women all shared a glance. 

"Quit doing that! Can I see my Veela or not?" 

The room dropped to a deafening silence as Harry realized what he said. "I meant- Draco, can I- I mean, can I see him? Please?"

Narcissa stood and walked towards him with the same grace and elegance that her son carries. "What are your intentions with my Draco?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Intentions? My only intentions right now are to make sure he is okay. Not sure if you heard but the last I saw of him he was laying in a pool of his own blood."

"I am aware. I am also aware of you and my son's.. past."

"No offense but Draco and I's past is between Draco and I."

Narcissa nodded slowly, "When I mentioned intentions, Mister Potter, I meant in the long run. This isn't a one night thing. Not a fling you can drop after a month. This is a long-term commitment. Forever."

"I am aware of what this is, Mrs. Malfoy. I wouldn't drop Draco. I couldn't. Not because of the whole mate thing but because I can never seem to drop Draco. No matter what has happened between us in the past, or what will happen to us in the future, Draco will always have me. Especially after yesterday.. I- I can't imagine a life without him."

The woman was silent for a long moment. "I will choose to believe, Potter, not because I actually do but because I have to for Draco's sake."

Harry turned towards the other women in the room, "So.. can I see him now?"

Harry wasn't sure what he was expecting when he walked into Draco's room but seeing him sitting up in plaid pajama pants and a muggle rock-n-roll T-shirt while drawing, wasn't it. 

Harry's heart froze yet ran seventy miles an hour at the sight when he looked up at Harry. 

The flames and electricity that always accompanied the blue-haired boy licked furiously around Harry's body as they two boys looked into each others' eyes. 

"You're an idiot. You do know that right?" 

The words echoed in the small room. Draco's eyes, which were now void of redness and half-moons, turned hard. "I don't know what that have all told you but-"

Harry groaned, stepping closer. "Draco, seriously? I know. I think I have known for a while, but I fully know now and it doesn't change anything. Knowing what you are and knowing what I am to you doesn't change anything. I like you Draco. Not just as a friend. If you wouldn't have pushed me away all those times, you would have seen that."

Draco pushed his parchment away, standing up from the bed, "You don't know what you are saying, Harry. You don't understand what you are signing up for. I'm a freak. I'm dangerous. I'm a dangerous fucking freak, Potter."

"No you aren't."

"Yes I am, Harry. When.. when I get close.. there is this beast that claws at me and every-time we get close it fights harder and I don't know if I can control it.." Harry stomped over to Draco, the Slytherin threw himself against the wall, "Harry, what ever you are doing stop."

Harry kept walking, pushing himself against the Veela. "No. I won't. Believe me this past week I have had lots of time to think since the person I wanted to talk to the most was ignoring my very existence. I don't care if you are a Veela. Draco, I want to be here for you. I want to be around you. I.. I really like you, Draco. A lot. So much that this past week has been a living hell seeing you hurting and not being able to do a damn thing about it.. and then seeing you laying on that table.. with blood coming out of your mouth.. Draco, I don't care if you are a Veela, a wizard, a werewolf, a muggle.. I don't care. I just want you. I want you. All of you. Every good, every bad and everything in-between."

Draco closed his eyes tightly as a single tear fell down his cheek, "Harry.. I don't know if I can control it. It's like I transform into something completely different. I don't want to hurt you. I can't hurt you."

Harry reach up, cupped Draco's cheek, "Draco.. I trust you. I trust you in any and every form." He brought their faces closer together, rubbing their noses together slightly. "I know it's scary. I can't even begin to imagine what it feels like but Draco, please, I trust you and I think I-" 

Harry stared deep into Draco's eyes, the gold that surrounded his iris flickered. Flames, Harry realized. "I am your mate. I am yours. You are mine. I know you won't do anything to hurt me. If you can't trust yourself, trust me. I have you. You are mine, Draco. You are my Veela, my person, somehow you have become my everything. I want you so much it hurts, and I am ready to take what ever you are willing to give me."

Draco brought their foreheads together, then without hesitation slammed their lips together in a toe-curling, fire-filled kiss. 

Much to the horror of the women who looked into the room to check in on the boys thirty minutes later, Draco showed Harry exactly how much of himself he was willing to give.