Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Intangible	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9795 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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- 9-CH9
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- 25-Ch25
- 15
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- 17
Chapter Sixteen
Harry was certain Sirius was going to breakdown again. Life had been very eventful for his godfather after his escape from Azkaban, what with Voldemort and Harry dying, Wormtail being captured and Sirius finally getting his pardon after all these years. Except now Harry was back and likely not going to survive, and after learning his cousin was also beast tainted, Sirius was feeling responsible for Draco too. Harry almost regretted asking for his help, except he knew his godfather would eventually pull through, and if not. Remus definitely would, the werewolf about as strong as it got when it came to helping others. Harry was happy to see that Sirius and Remus looked much stronger and healthier than the last time he had seen them before Voldemort had attacked. Sirius was no longer gaunt and had color to his skin. And Remus's scruffy appearance was more smooth, as if just being around Sirius tamed all of Remus's rough edges.
“Sorry, Harry...” Sirius muttered, wiping at his eyes again. “It ah, well, it reminds me of my own parents, that's all... and not something anyone should have to deal with. Especially a young kid like him.”
He'll be fine, Siri. Draco's a strong sort, he just doesn't know there are options out there. Harry's scrawl was more a scraggy tremor at this point, but the two men seemed able to read it.
“Yes, well we can definitely help in that,” Remus said evenly, placing his hand on Sirius's shoulder. “I know all about packs trying to pick up strays, and there are definitely defenses against it.”
Sirius gave such a teary beaming smile, Harry had to wonder if his godfather had been such a stray once. Sirius had never revealed what sort of beast awakening he had, and it seemed too late to ask now. Harry was still trying to get the will he had written out last night in legal condition and it was nearly time for the spell.
You know I would never put you two out. I was just hoping you might consider
“It's fine. I can't guarantee he will be interested in living with us, but we are more than willing to give him a home. Now stop worrying about it, and deal with your own preparations.”
Harry sighed, staring at Remus's strange, golden eyes. “I love you guys, and I'm damn lucky to have you.”
“Harry, you do your best,” Sirius said gruffly, pushing himself up from his seat and standing beside Remus. “We've got enough room for you too. I've fixed up some property... and...” He was tearing again, unable to continue speaking. “Damn it...Remi...”
Remus wrapped his arm around Sirius's shoulder and continued. “We've got a room for you, Harry. He cleaned it up this week, hoping you'd be back and wanting to have enough space.”
“Aw hell,” Harry sighed, wiping at his own eyes. That was the danger of being around Sirius when the man was in this mood—everyone started crying.
That would be the best damn thing ever. Thank you guys. I love you and I need you to get out of here because there is no crying during the spell!
“Can't even hug the kid goodbye...” Shaking his head and growling lowly, Sirius let Remus lead him from the room. Jaz had been tapping his foot impatiently from the doorway for the last five minutes, holding a roll of parchment. As they left he walked around them, placing the roll on the desk, with Blotts Esquire seal clear in gold wax.
It's settled?
“It's as official as it can get. You are a very generous young man, Mr. Potter, and if you do not survive this spell, your many friends will certainly have something to remember you by.”
Harry nodded, not wanting to go into his so called generous nature. It was his parents' money; Harry had never earned any of it. But it seemed wasteful to let it sit in a vault for all eternity. It could definitely help people, people Harry cared about. Especially one particular boy that was facing disinheritance.
Harry wasn't going to tell Draco about it. The boy would figure it out the hard way if Harry didn't survive. And if he learned of it early, Draco would probably fight him tooth and nail about it, like it was even fucking important.
“You look as if you need to scream,” Jaz said, taking in the way Harry was hunched, soft magic glowing over his skin.
Just a bit of pain.
Harry was actually in a lot more than a bit of pain, but he was not looking for sympathy. As long as he sat still he could sort of numb out a lot of it.
“We're starting soon. Dumbledore is bringing down the phoenix now. It will be you and me through most of it, Harry. Severus will be outside the door with the scent nullifying potion if needed. And all your loved ones that could make it will be waiting in the potions classroom across the way. Madame Pomfrey has a small team with her, which will get you up to the hospital ward if you aren't conscious and attacking people. And then it's up to the healers. Did you have any questions, any concerns that you want to go over?”
That Jaz had dropped his playful attitude for one of compassion was more worrisome than Harry wanted to admit. How did the barrier spells go on Malfoy's room?
“Better than I thought they would. I went over them again this morning—I don't believe even you would be able to get through. Although, those in this dimension can, so if the Vesper are visible, they will likely be able to cross.”
But they won't do that, will they? Being visible among a castle full of wizards and witches would just be asking for a beating.
“Likely...” Jaz turned away, Dumbledore pushing into the prepared room with Fawkes on his arm. Harry took in the height of his headmaster, along with his squared shoulders and tight jaw. Today Dumbledore was ready for battle.
Harry found himself straightening to his own full height, body protesting painfully. This spell required all of Harry. Not the reality of what he was, waiting on the other side of this echo of a world, but his will to be the ideal of what he wanted. He wished to be alive, sane, not maddened by the sight and scent of humans. There was no way to ensure these things, but Harry was a wizard, and he understood that will was power.
Harry would will as hard as he could, and reality would just have to bend to him.
Jaz began spelling away all the unnecessary furniture, running through the room a final time to wipe it of scents. Dumbledore pulled a small vial from his robes full of a soft blue liquid, and gently fed it to the phoenix. The bird cooed softly, and then glowed a bright, golden orange, its body opening and becoming susceptible to the bonding spell to come.
“We will see you shortly, Harry.” It was all Dumbledore said, giving Harry a piercing, twinkle-free look before placing Fawkes on the perch in the middle of the room, and striding out the door.
“Drop the glow, Potter. We don't want anything to interfere,” Jaz ordered from the corner, going around the room with wand in hand and activating the wards on the walls. Beneath Harry's feet a large glyph started to glow, spreading out and lighting up more ancient writing until the room was ablaze in colorless light.
Harry pulled the magic from his skin until he was invisible again, focusing on the phoenix that had gone very quiet. He stepped up to the bird, gently ruffling Fawkes's feathery breast. He did not want the creature to die. It had been a sweet bird, and Harry's only company for many months when he was intangible to everyone else until he had stumbled across Draco. It would be cruel to have the bird die with him if Harry did not survive.
Harry closed his eyes, imagining the world he wanted to wake up to. He did not see himself in it, but he never did. He took his appearance for granted the same way he had taken his life for granted—he had never expected there to ever be anything different. But now, when Harry imagined the future, he kept seeing Draco. And in seeing the crystal eyed, smiling boy, Harry could see himself, hand outstretched and clasped in Draco's.
“No matter how much it hurts, I need you to stay conscious long enough to reach your power to the bird. Remember. Your power must connect at the right time, or this has been a waste.”
Harry nodded, opening his eyes and stepping to the spot opposite Fawkes's perch. The phoenix roused as well, sitting up straighter as if he knew his part was to begin. Eyes locked on the bird, Harry listened as Jaz began the incantation.

Draco was running late. He had spent a good half hour standing before the shower trying to figure out if he wanted to wash the pen off his skin. It was really too offensive to leave—if anyone saw the words it would be absolutely mortifying. But at the same time, Draco did not want them to be gone because it felt like there would be nothing left of Harry otherwise. He eventually compromised, washing his face, neck, hands and lower arms. He left the rest, feeling superstitious and unwilling to wipe Harry from the earth with soap and water.
He had slept in, skipped all his classes and no one had said a word about it. Draco had a feeling Snape had a lot to do with that, his head of house likely protecting him after yesterday's very public breakdown. Draco had been lucky no one had been there to see besides Snape, Dumbledore, and his crazy mother. And Harry, but he wasn't going to be spreading rumors anytime soon.
Harry would be coming home today. Hopefully alive. Certainly if he started out alive, Draco wanted to be there to ensure Harry remained as such. Maybe he was crazy and paranoid, afraid his headmaster would destroy Harry if he found the boy to be too dangerous. But Draco would rather be paranoid and wrong, then naïve and with a dead boyfriend.
Biting his lip, Draco fought the laugher that kept popping up at the most inopportune times. Harry was his boyfriend. Draco had said no to his mother, and he had a boyfriend—even if invisible—And seriously, why couldn't Draco just have anything bloody normal in his life? Invisible boyfriends, it was so damn pathetic... But also very exciting, like the best kept secret ever. Certainly better than shit beast awakenings...
Draco was buttoning up his shirt when the door knocked. He glanced in the mirror just to make sure no pen was peeking out from beneath his collar. Reaching for the door, Draco paused, eyelashes lowered as a hot shiver slid down his spine.
“Come on, Draco. You'd be late for your own funeral... err... forget I said that...”
Rolling his eyes, Draco threw the door open. “Blaise, could you kindly get your foot out of your mouth for five...” He snapped his mouth shut, nostrils flaring.
Blaise looked sheepish, patting his dark hair down. “Sorry. I'm nervous and you know how I get. If something happens to Potter, well, you know...” He gave Draco a confused look, the boy having gone unearthly still. “Um, you all ready to go?”
Draco didn't say anything, just tilted his head, eyes slipping across the empty corridor while he sniffed the air. “Draco?”
Draco put his finger to his lips, glaring at his friend. The barrier Jaz had insisted on installing was flaring strong, too strong, and below its magical hum Draco was fairly certain he could hear the sound of breathing. From more than one mouth.
Suddenly there was a growl, low and menacing, and eyes widening, Draco grabbed Blaise by the shirt, pulled the boy into the room, and slammed and locked the door behind him.
“What—shit, what did I do?” Blaise yelped, pulling from Draco's grasp and backpedaling away.
Huffing at his friend's stupidity, Draco went to his dresser, pulling the magical glasses from the soft case he had made for them. He fingered the lenses gently, then turned his gaze to his confused friend. “Blaise, I need you to put these on and tell me what's out there.”
Blaise looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “Out where? Out...” He then noticed what Draco was holding, his voice trailing off as he went as pale as his dark skin would allow. “Oh shit! Tell me you're joking.”
Draco took a steadying breath. He loved Blaise dearly, but he was going to have to beat him into something calm and not freaking out if the boy didn't get a hold of himself. “I'm just asking you to look, that's all. You won't even have to open the door. I would do it myself but visually seeing what I believe to be out there fucks me up in the head... Stop.” Draco growled, realizing admitting the last part had only gotten Blaise more freaked.
Draco considered his options. He could send a note out through the school's floo network. The prefects fireplaces did not allow for travel, but did allow for notes to teachers. Of course, likely every teacher in the building was at Harry's bonding, watching and waiting to see if the boy who lived had managed to live again.
He could also just wait in the room until the ceremony was done, and then see if someone could handle exterminating the pack of Vesper waiting for him outside his door. At least the barrier had worked—the Vesper were not blowing down the door just yet. Glancing as Blaise's terrified face, Draco had to wonder how many students were in danger, having to walk past Draco's room to get to the Slytherin common room. The creatures had not attacked Blaise, but maybe that was only because they had hoped the boy would draw Draco out of his warded room.
“Blaise, I understand you are afraid. I need your help. It's almost time for dinner, and after that every Slytherin we know will be walking down this hallway to get to bed. I need to know what is out there.”
Eyes hardening at the implication, Blaise got his breathing under control and held his hand out silently. Draco gave him the glasses, studying his friend's face as he slipped them on.
“Shit, Draco, if I wasn't as straight as they come...”
Blushing at the realization that he was absolutely nude and feathery under those glasses, Draco turned away, only to have Blaise laugh. “You have a tail—and wings! You're fucking adorable!”
“Blaise, there are monsters at the door!” Draco snapped back, glaring over his shoulder at his smirking friend.
“Right, right... well if they look anything like you...” Blaise hummed, his fear suddenly all but forgotten. “Gah—they don't. Well, not all of them...”
Draco turned, eyes jumping from Blaise's face to the wall he was staring intently at. “How many?”
“Oh... I count five of the dragons—fucking vicious looking things, by the way. And one that looks somewhat like you. Humanoid... but I wouldn't be calling it human. And it is definitely looking back at me... Bizarre.”
“It must be a shifter...” Draco mussed, pacing around his small room.
“They're watching you. While you're walking... they're staring...” Blaise muttered, his voice going lower. “Draco... these things are fucked when they look at you... Like they're entranced or some shit. They're just standing there staring.”
Draco shivered, heat rising on his skin that he tried to shake off. “Tell me about the shifter. Does it seem intelligent?”
Blaise nodded, then realized Draco wasn't looking at him and spoke up. “It's smart... definitely someone home in his pretty head. Looks a lot like you, but without the wings and long feathers. Older... maybe thirty... Long white hair, skin covered in small bright scales... has a tail too. The dragons seem to be waiting for it—they keep looking at him”
“Have they rushed the door at all? Look as if they're about to attack anyone?”
“Nope... they seem pretty chill... fangs and all.” Blaise blinked, eyes unfocusing and moving to the left of them. “There's something else... further back. Another group and much bigger.”
“The rest outside?” Draco asked, but the dread in his stomach said otherwise.
Blaise was grim, eyes squinting as he counted. “What did you say Potter looked like? Black and bloodied? There are at least a dozen in a circle around him.”
Rage bubbled up in Draco, white hot and tickling his stomach with power. He stalked to the door, throwing it wide open and standing in the doorway. He glared out at the empty hallway, the buzz of the magical barrier apparent once outside his room. “What the hell do you want?”

“Shouldn't they be here by now?” Ron muttered, staring at the classroom door where Pansy had just walked in without Draco and Blaise. Hermione shrugged, her nose buried in a book on magical creatures. “Pansy, did you see them?” Ron asked when Hermione showed no interest in joining the conversation.
Shaking her head, Pansy moved over to the duo. “Blaise said he'd be right back with Draco, but that was ten minutes ago.”
“He's probably just having one of his 'moments' and doesn't want to be seen crying,” Hermione said, peeking up from her book. “After yesterday, his mother dropping in like that and his near jump out the front door into the pack, I'm sure he's a damn mess.”
Ron quietly agreed. Harry had caught them up a little on what had happened yesterday, jotting down what he knew while Draco had been talking to Madame Pomfrey about Snape's condition. Everything had been cleaned up before the students had been let out of class, but Ron and Hermione had been leaving the library during their free period and seen when Draco had been walking towards the infirmary. Draco had only disclosed a little bit of what his mother had told him to Harry and had not wanted to talk about anything afterwards. Ron really couldn't blame the boy. Waking up to find you had an unhealthy pull towards invisible—and very much not human—animals would freak anyone out. Learning that your entire male ancestral line had all given in to the pull, well that was likely even more horrifying.
But Harry was determined to make sure Draco's friends knew what was going on with the boy, even if it was embarrassing. Because if Harry died, Draco might not ask for help. And Harry needed to make sure Draco got help. It seemed to be all that was keeping Harry going, his body bent with pain and writing now so sloppy Ron could barely make it out.
Ron did not want to think about Harry dying, not again, and not in such a slow and agonizing way. “I'm going to go check on the prat. Crying or not, he'll hate himself for missing this.”
Sighing, Hermione pulled her nose from her book and placed a bookmark within the pages. “You're right—I just really can't handle anymore crying today...” She glanced towards the corner where Remus was blocking Sirius from view, Harry's godfather very much a mess of nerves and stray tears. She liked Sirius, she truly did, but it was so hard to keep herself in check when he was all emotional in his manly way. Girls crying had much less of an effect on Hermione compared to grown men crying.
Pansy smiled in relief, grabbing the two of their hands for strength as they headed for the door. She had been having a really difficult time, Pansy barely able to talk to Draco since Harry returned. Pansy was definitely one of those overly emotional girls that hid behind so many layers of masks and walls even she could not break free when she needed to. To talk to Draco while worried over him would tumble everything down, so she instead only spent superficial time with her friend, her worry building beneath the surface. Hermione was definitely glad she had never been afraid to talk to Harry about anything—especially considering how short life seemed to be.
“Knowing Draco, he's looking for the right hex to cast on Dumbledore,” Ron whispered as they passed their headmaster who was standing outside the closed door where Harry's spell was taking place. Dumbledore was rigid, hands clasped tight as he stared intently at the closed door. Snape was beside him, slumped halfway, his face a grimace of pain. He refused to take any potions for the pain for fear it would slow his response if he needed to rush in.
They edged around the team of seven emergency witches and wizards Madame Pomfrey had called in just for Harry's return, admitting a growing amount of dread at catching sight of the grim faces. The narrow hallway was near full of people, and Hermione pulled the three of them through, leading the way until the press of bodies was gone.
“Hell, well at least they're prepared,” Pansy muttered, relaxing now they weren't surround by so many people. “So many healers, and one Dumbledore... wonder who's going to win that deciding call...” She was bitter, Draco's fears becoming her own. It wasn't that Ron and Hermione wanted Harry to die—they just didn't want him to live the rest of his life as a monster either. Harry would be tormented to know he might hurt others, never mind kill students he had spent many years trying to protect.
Ron sighed, shuffling his feet and meeting Hermione's ever attentive eye. “Come on. Before Blaise drives the prat to suicide.”

Draco was ever aware of the unseen barrier dividing him from the Vesper, making sure he did not sway too close to it and unexpectedly cross through. He could feel a magical aura, one of the creatures approaching closer, but they made no move to reach out that he could tell. He did not know if they had tested the barrier just yet, Draco hoping that it existed enough to keep them fearful.
“It's the shifter,” Blaise said behind his shoulder, taking on the job of being Draco's eyes. “He's staring at you, the others backing away when he stepped forward. Pretty sure they take orders from him.”
Draco nodded to show he had heard, his nostrils flaring as new scent filled his senses. It was different... but very familiar... as if he had known it once, a long time ago. “Are you going to speak? Thought speak? I know your kind can.”
A strange, guttural noise bounced off his ears, Draco gasping from the sound as it seemed to almost purr around him.
“What is it?” Blaise asked, hand on Draco's shoulder as if to keep him from stepping forward.
“Just... nonsense. Nothing I can understand...” Draco muttered, his cheeks flushed as he tried to ignore how his body was responding even if his mind was confused.
But you can hear me?
Glaring when the shifter finally started communicating through thought speak, Draco nodded. “I can hear you. Through my ears, and in my head.”
Good. That makes things easier. It is so difficult when your kind cannot see.
“Funny, I think that would be the opposite. Seeing tends to have a very bad effect,” Draco snapped. “What the hell do want? Why are you in my school, and surrounding my boyfriend?”
“Careful, Draco... he seems to like it when you're angry.” Blaise whispered lowly. “He keeps pulsing some sort of glow that gets brighter when you're emotional.”
Your friend is very correct, I am responding to you... Draco. I am called Matten. That is such an appropriate name you have, young one. It is as if your mother must have known you were to belong to us.
Draco stiffened, trying and failing to stop his anger. “Can't you see the ring I wear? They all fucking knew what I was and hid it from me. Now answer my questions!”
The growl again, louder and caressing, pulling fire over Draco's skin and making his knees weak. Oh, you are ardent... So playful... What did you wish to know?
“Why are you here?” Draco gritted out, shaking his head to clear the red fog trying to steal his mind.
To take you home, of course. Why else would we invade human territory? You have been calling so loudly, Draco. We could not ignore it any longer. We try, the halflings are so difficult... But no, you were just impossible to resist.
Draco shivered at the words, taking a step back and nearly bumping into Blaise. “And Potter? Why are you surrounding him? If you hurt him I will fucking kill all of you!”
“Stop yelling,” Blaise hissed, grabbing Draco's shoulders firmly. “He's got his claws out, and his eyes are fucking glowing. He apparently does have feathers hidden under his hair, and they are rising like some messed up bird looking to fight or mate. You need to calm the fuck down.” Draco could barely hear his friend, the purr thrumming up again, wrapping all around him and making him feel tired and hot.
If you mean the Kalistar, we are just taking the necessary precautions.
Draco was struggling to keep his eyes open, the strange sound trying to pull him from the doorway and far away from Harry. “You are threatening him.”
We will kill him. He is injured, and has laid claim to you. With him dead you will come with us.
Draco shook his head, baring his teeth angrily. “If you harm him I will never go with you. I would rather destroy myself than see him harmed.”
Oh, little one... that will not do...
Matten clucked in his head, so seemingly arrogant that Draco found his strength again. “Stop fucking purring at me!” Draco snarled, pushing back another step.
It took a moment, but the noise lowered in intensity, eventually just an echo in Draco's ears.
You are very strong willed. I cannot remember if that is common with your kind... it has been a very long time since we have pursued one like you.
Draco ignored the voice, gasping for air now that the roar had stopped. He had not realized how strong it had been until it was gone.
“Draco, we should shut the door and get help. I don't like this,” Blaise whispered, helping Draco stand upright while the boy swayed. “The way they are all looking at you... The dragons look as if they want to kill you.”
You smell like human. We do not like humans.
Draco pushed Blaise away, putting his fully human friend further behind him in the room. “I am human. You called me a halfling—you must know that half of me at the least is human. Go away. I can never be what you want so just go away and stop bothering me.”
You are everything we want. Once your beast form is awakened the human scent will go and you will be completely one of us. We will keep you in the center of our village, Draco. You will be revered, loved, pampered and adored. Your strength will give our village strength, your power will give us power, and your sex... you are beautiful, young one... We will be the happiest, most productive tribe there could ever be with you as our hearth.
It was not just words this time speaking into Draco's head, but pictures and emotions. The creatures truly meant well, in their own fucked up way, Draco was realizing. To be a hearth was a place of honor among the Vesper, and when a halfling didn't smell so human it was a very enjoyable existence.
Draco shook his head again, growling lowly. “I do not wish to go with you.”
You do. I can smell it—we all can. Even now you are calling for us to take you home. You are one of us.
Draco swallowed hard, not able to deny it. Because his body very much had been fighting him every day since Draco had caught Harry's scent again, demanding things from him he didn't fully understand. And now, scenting these creatures so close, even though they still had malice towards him, Draco could feel his want to be with them. They were familiar... Like a recurring dream he could not recall but remembered with fondness every time he woke. He did not want to feel this way. But it did not make it any less true.
“Draco, I think you need to shut the door now.” Blaise was half holding Draco up, the boy's knees having given out.
“No—They're going to kill Harry! Fuck—” Grabbing his head, Draco stepped forward and leaned against the doorway, eyes closed as he tried to keep from falling. “Please, don't kill him. He's already sick, why do you want to hurt him? Just leave him the fuck alone.”
The purr was so low and yet so close, and Draco raised his eyelids, certain the shifter Matten was just inches from him. The Kalistar do not react to humans as we do. They used to protect the foolish things when we still allowed humans near our borders.
“They became sick,” Draco whispered, feeling the barrier hum louder as something pressed close.
Yes... And we decided we did not need to speak with humans anymore. All that the mortals wanted was our power and our land. Even now, they encroach on us, stealing our territory, killing our young.
More thoughts and emotions flickered through Draco's head, not from his own mind but the one hidden before him.
You could help us, young one. You could speak to them when we cannot stand to even smell them.
“...An ambassador?” Draco let the idea sink in, then scoffed it away. “Matten, you would not let me out of your village center. You have showed me—you fear too much that I would wish to escape.”
Come now, we can negotiate such things. Most shifters stay at home, unable to handle the forest wilds. But ones like me still venture out, leading our young packs to keep them from harming stray humans.
“But I will become like you. Hating the smell of humans, wanting to kill them. That is hardly a compromise.”
You are a halfling; that instinct is not with your kind. The Kalistar sired the manlings all those centuries ago. That is why they are so protective—so damn impossible to share with. The arrogant things would strut around the village border, letting friends and family safely converse with the halflings instead of going out to hunt and provide like they should have.
Draco shook his head, Matten's jealousy stronger than his anger. “You only feel that way because you don't like humans. It must get lonely for your halflings, taken away from everyone they know and love. Having friends die because they came to visit would be horrible.”
Perhaps... Our pack does not have a halfling, not while I have lived. The magic here warns us away.
“Draco, he is getting too close,” Blaise warned, his eyes fixed somewhere in front of Draco's face. Draco didn't need Blaise to tell him, having felt the hot breath on his cheek, and still unable to pull away.
You are very attractive, Draco. My shifters would like you... I like you. We can more than replace your one young Kalistar lover. You would not even miss him.
Draco released a breath he had not realized he had been holding. “Matten, what can you read from me when it comes to him? You are not blind—certainly not dumb. You lure me with a sense of duty, community and even sex. Surely you must know I will never forgive you if you harm him. Take your pack away from him.”
Matten did not answer, Draco staring out into the empty hall. Blaise was unsteady behind Draco, moving from foot to foot in anxiety.
And what, my beautiful halfling, will I get in return for such generosity?
Draco knew what the damn things wanted now, but that didn't mean he was interested in walking in to the dragons' den if he didn't have to. “You seem to be a reasonable leader, Matten. What do you think would be fair in exchange?”
Ah... perhaps you would grace us with your presence for a tour? You could see my village, meet your new family, and learn about the people you are half of.
Eyes closing, Draco took a moment to answer. It would be unlikely that he would ever return from such a tour. “Would I be safe?”
We shifters have much better control around the scent of human than the dragons alone. We are adept at keeping the beasts from injuring others.
“You must give me your word. The Kalistar, Potter, will never be harmed by your kind.”
Never? Draco, that is hardly equivalent to just a tour.
“I am not a fool, Matten. I feel the pull, as have all my ancestors.”
Yes, but you are very strong willed. I am not even sure this ruse will give me what I want from you.
Draco laughed at the bluntness of it, straightening. “Those are my terms.”
Oh, that is a nice sound. You are full of such nice noises, young one. Very well, this tribe will never harm your Kalistar. Not that it seems much concern, the thing quite injured.
Draco licked his lips, nodding slowly.
He could not be certain it wasn't the soft hum, even now purring so lightly from Matten's lips as the creature breathed so close to Draco, or if he had truly decided for himself. Had he made the choice to protect the school and protect his love? Or was it the pull, even now, addling him until Draco only felt like he had made the right decision? Either way, the Vesper were getting what they wanted and Draco was... Draco was feeling the pull.
“Remove the Vesper, and I will go with you.” Draco said, wishing he knew the answer.
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Intangible