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Nature of the Beast	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 48977 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 16
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Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Seventeen—Threats and Thoroughness
            “I do sort of find it strange that Maundy hasn’t sent us any threats,” Draco finally said at breakfast a few days later, to break the lingering silence between him and Harry about Maundy, and what she was going to do.
            Harry looked up with his eyes stained with dreams, as Draco put it to himself. It wasn’t the sort of thing he would say aloud because he knew that Harry wouldn’t understand, and neither would his mother. “Hmmm?” But before Draco could repeat the question, Harry waved his hand. “Oh. I think my response surprised her. So she’s going and gathering her forces. It’s not like someone who would use a Pain Geis to tip her hand now.”
            Draco snorted. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re as much of a political genius as you think you are.”
            “I’m not the genius, Hermione is.” Harry was studying a map on the table in front of him. Tired of being shut out, Draco stood and moved around the table. Surprisingly, Harry shifted so that Draco could read over his shoulder.
            Draco touched the top of Harry’s other shoulder with one wing, and Harry gave a small, responsive shudder. That gave him the courage to whisper, “Someone who would use a Pain Geis the way she did would surely tip her hand. That was a stupid move for her to make.”
            Harry nodded slowly. “Well, it wouldn’t have been if I had given in to it. Then she would have had a perfect slave, and I’m sure that she would have ordered me not to talk about it. She couldn’t have known I could resist the Imperius Curse and even stronger spells.”
            Draco repressed the quiver of rage that was moving through him for a more productive time. “She ought to have known that, though. The gossip was all over Hogwarts our fourth year, and the Maundys aren’t so isolated that they wouldn’t have listened to rumors like that.” He let out the quiver of rage, and turned Harry around on the chair to look at him. “And she knew you had a Veela mate. I was right there in the room. How could I not sense a spell like that and react to it?”
            Harry gaped at him. Draco shook him a little. “I know that our bond is weak, but I’m still your mate. What was I going to do? Just ignore it when you started trembling and convulsing beside me? Say that you were weak enough to give in to it after a little fighting. I would still have noticed something before that.”
            “I thought,” said Harry slowly, and fell silent, frowning.
            “What?” Draco found himself desperate to know the answer to that silence in a way he had rarely been. He leaned in until his hands were barely holding in the sheathed nails, sliding them slowly up and down Harry’s arms. “What? Tell me.”
*
            I’m not going to obey any bloody orders.
            But the thought was automatic, just a little flick of Harry’s mind of the kind he would have made no matter who had said that to him. The bigger part of him was preoccupied with two thoughts that he had held in his head at the same time, never realizing they were contradictory.
            On the one hand, he had accepted that for Malfoy, this bond was real. He might not like the way Harry didn’t act like a traditional submissive, but he considered it his duty to protect Harry. That couldn’t have been clearer, after the way he had flown up to meet the dragon Maundy had tossed into the air during the meeting.
            On the other hand, Harry had decided that Malfoy would never appreciate or want him because he didn’t act like the traditional submissive. Their bond was weak. He would already have let Harry go if the consequence wasn’t death, and gone to seek a more suitable mate. Harry couldn’t depend on him for the same reason that he couldn’t depend on anyone else he disappointed by not being the icon they wanted.
            How could both those things be true at the same time? How could Malfoy protect him and not protect him at the same time?
            He can’t.
            Harry stood up and pushed the map back across the table. It was a map of Hogwarts, of how it might be rebuilt. Rebuilding the school was something that everyone could agree on, and Harry had thought it would help sustain his peace movement. But at the moment, he had something else on his mind.
            “Listen,” he told Malfoy. “We need to talk. Is there a private place we can talk that isn’t a library, so I don’t get distracted with the books, or a bedroom, so you don’t get distracted with thoughts of the bond?”
            Malfoy folded his arms and frowned at him. “I’m not so weak as you think I am.” His wings fluffed up behind him like the tail of an offended cat.
            “I know,” Harry said. “But I want—I want this to be a neutral room. Without your things, and without mine. There has to be a private place in the Manor like that, right?” He couldn’t believe there wasn’t. Surely the Malfoys had sometimes entertained guests for political dealings that they had to be careful with, and meet in a neutral setting.
            “Yes, there’s one like that,” said Malfoy, but he didn’t make any move to lead Harry to it. “What do we have to talk about?”
            Harry met his gaze, and wondered for a moment what he was seeing more of, the human being or the Veela. Then he decided that it didn’t matter, just like it wouldn’t matter whether someone who was truly committed to peace was a Muggleborn or a pure-blood. If Harry could trust them to have the same goal, then he could work with them.
            “I think that I was mistaken about the bond,” he said. “And you. And I want to find out how this is going to work.”
            Malfoy looked at him, and now he was the one who looked as cold and distant as Harry had been trying to will himself to be. But after a second, he nodded and his wings snapped down behind him, folding neatly along his shoulders.
            “Come on, then.”
*
            Draco walked into the business room ahead of Harry, and turned around, telling himself, on the way, not to be too excited. Just because Harry had realized some things were wrong didn’t mean they were the same things that Draco cared about.
            But he had to admit, as Harry shut the door slowly and came forwards to stand in the middle of the plain, dim room—a single fireplace and a few chairs were its only features—there was at least one sign that gave him hope. Harry was considering Draco with a frown. The frown wasn’t unusual.
            The focused eyes were. For once, Harry was thinking about the Veela in front of him, the Veela who wanted to protect and pamper him, instead of the peace process or his friends or the war or his past. Draco didn’t think that had ever been true before.
            “I realized that I was expecting you to protect me,” Harry began, pacing slowly back and forth, and looking at Draco all the while.
            “You can count on that,” Draco interrupted. He had to, as much as he wanted to wait and hear the end of Harry’s little speech. The Veela inside him would tolerate no less. “Really, you can. You’re it for me. I can’t choose anyone else.”
            Harry gave him a smile that looked sad. “I know, but I’m talking about my perceptions right now. I’m beginning to realize that they’re different from reality. If I could go on?”
            Draco blinked, and his wings twitched. He considered the expression on Harry’s face, as if he was thinking hard. He had seen that expression before, when Harry debated and planned and watched Maundy and spoke at the table during the meeting in the Leaky Cauldron, but never when Harry was thinking about him.
            It made all the difference. It made him think about sitting beside Harry in the future when Harry thought, and being proud of his ability to make plans and carry them out, instead of being frustrated because Harry wasn’t staying in the house like a submissive should.
            Draco nodded. “Continue.” He knew his voice was a purr, but Harry did nothing more than shoot him a single long look before he turned around again and returned to his pacing.
            “I expected you to protect me,” Harry continued. “I was taking that for granted. But I also expected you to give up on me because I’m not what you want.” Draco cocked his head. There was no self-pity in Harry’s voice. “The bond isn’t strong. If you could have someone else, I assumed you would take it.”
            “I can’t,” said Draco, and his voice was frozen and brittle. He had thought Harry understood this. “I can’t choose someone else. Maybe you don’t have the instincts and the feelings that go with them and make a choice like that impossible, but I do. I have to—”
            “Merlin, I know.” Harry turned around, and he was steadfast, a wall, and Draco’s voice washed over him and broke like a wave. “But knowing that you wanted something else, something I couldn’t be, didn’t give me any great faith in you. But at the same time, I had faith in you to protect me. Those are contradictions. I have to choose which one I’m going to believe.” Harry took a deep breath and his face settled into lines that made him look as though he’d been an adult for years. “And I choose to believe that you’ll protect me.”
            Draco couldn’t help himself any more than he could help interrupting earlier. He spread his wings and drifted across the floor towards Harry, caught somewhere between walking and flying, his toes only brushing the carpet. He landed in front of Harry and leaned against him, wings waving slowly back and forth like fronds now.
            Harry met his eyes, wary but unafraid. That could describe a lot of his choices and things he’d done over the years, Draco thought, ducking his head and nuzzling Harry’s neck beneath his ear. He crooned. Harry lifted a cautious hand and placed it on the back of Draco’s head. Draco turned back and forth, purring like a cat until Harry got the idea and started to stroke his hand slowly through Draco’s hair.
            “I know that I’ve told you what I won’t do,” Harry finally whispered. “What I won’t be. And you’ve told me what you can’t help being. But what if we acknowledged that there was still—that we should talk about what we can do? And what we can help? I think that would be a lot better.”
            Draco responded with a warble that trilled up and down the scale, and saw Harry staring at him as if he had never seen him before. Draco turned his head to the side, exposing his face in profile, and spread his wings around him. He wished that he had a background of leaves and a waterfall so he could really pose and preen, but Harry should get the idea.
            Harry began gently rubbing behind Draco’s ear again. Draco brought his wings forwards and used them to cup Harry’s face.
            “That’s all I want,” Draco breathed. He thought he could have flown without the use of his wings, simply borne on the vaulting excess of his love and joy. “All I’ve ever wanted. A chance to prove myself to you.”
            Harry nodded as if the words made sense to him now and asked, “Well, what can you do?”
            “I can protect you,” said Draco. He put his arms around Harry, and Harry didn’t relax into them but didn’t stand so stiffly, either. Draco’s pulse fluttered in his throat. “I can guard you. I can give you whatever you want that costs money.”
            Harry gave him an odd smile, so distant and wistful that Draco wondered what he was thinking about. But on the other hand, he had the right to ask now, so he did. “What are you thinking about?”
*
            Huh, Harry decided after a moment of utter shock. He must be paying a lot of attention to me to know that it wasn’t what’s right in front of me.
            And that caused a strange feeling of exhilaration to sweep through Harry. Someone was paying attention, and that might mean he could get help he needed and maybe—keeping in mind that they hadn’t begun very well—just speak like a normal human being, too. He answered. “I was just wishing that you could buy some peace for me and the wizarding world. But I don’t think that’s likely.”
            Malfoy crowded closer to him. Harry didn’t feel stifled, the way he had earlier when Malfoy had tried to surround him with his wings or hold him close. Maybe it was because he knew now that he just had to push on those wings and Malfoy would let him go at once.
            “I can’t buy the whole world peace, no,” Malfoy said, his voice low. “That would take more Galleons than even I possess. But I think I could purchase a special form of peace for you.”
            “You can?” Harry asked. “Would you know who the best people are to bribe, who would stay bribed? That’s something I haven’t tried because I can’t be sure.” He also knew Hermione didn’t like it, but honestly, that weighed less with him than spending money to no good purpose.
            Malfoy laughed, softly. “You’re full of surprises. But no, I wasn’t thinking of bribes. I was thinking of Dreamless Sleep Potion, so you could have a quiet night.” His fingers brushed what must be a dark circle under Harry’s left eye. “I know you don’t sleep well.”
            “That doesn’t come from nightmares,” Harry began. If Malfoy was worried about something nonexistent, Harry could at least set that at rest. They had enough to be concerned about that was real.
            “I know,” said Malfoy. “I thought it probably came from lying awake at night and being unable to stop your mind from racing. Your head is full of plans. You need sleep, too, though, Harry.” He twisted himself around Harry, suddenly more snake than bird. “You have to sleep.”
            “How did you know that?” Harry shook his head, and shook it again. It wasn’t that his friends weren’t concerned about him, or observant, but they hadn’t picked up on that exact and particular worry.
            Malfoy paused, and then seemed to lose the sinuous grace that had entwined him with Harry at the same moment as he lost the certainty. “I don’t know,” he said, and struggled to draw back. Harry carefully unpicked a wingtip from his hair; his own struggle was not to smile. “I suppose…the bond must be working?”
            Harry opened his mouth, then shut it. Malfoy peered intently at him. “What is it? Could you feel it?”
            “No,” said Harry.
            Before, that would have concerned him, the same way it would have if he was around someone with the habit of using Legilimency so he couldn’t feel it. But this time, he thought it was wonderful. He had viewed the bond as intrusive, a way for Malfoy to spy on him while Harry couldn’t do anything about it. If Harry couldn’t feel the bond from his end and couldn’t stop it, then that was just one more thing that made him weaker than Malfoy and his “dominant” Veela nonsense.
            But if this was the way that it worked, then Harry could honestly see a lot of advantages. Malfoy would get enough information to stop him worrying. Harry would maybe have someone who understood him sometimes without speaking, which he had wished for. And the bond would maybe repair itself and not be a concern anymore.
            “Yes,” said Harry suddenly, and Malfoy’s face shone. Harry realized his mistake, and shook his head irritably. “No, I mean, I couldn’t feel the bond working. But I think it’s a sign that the bond is working. And I agree that you couldn’t have got that information anywhere but from my own mind.”
            Malfoy laid a hand that trembled just above his eyes. “And you don’t care about that anymore, if I can feel you and hear your thoughts, and you can’t hear mine?”
            Harry considered Malfoy. A day ago, he would have said that he didn’t care about hearing Malfoy’s thoughts. That was true, in a way, but phrasing it like that would needlessly hurt Malfoy.
            Now, it was…
            He didn’t care about it in the way Malfoy meant, and would have liked him to. He didn’t feel the same desire for the connection and the bond that Malfoy did.
            But it did mean that he didn’t mind Malfoy drawing from the bond to get some things Malfoy himself wanted and needed. It didn’t make Harry weaker than Malfoy. No matter what they did, what changed in relation to each other, Harry wasn’t weaker. He wasn’t submissive, and wouldn’t allow himself to be.
            What they could be was normal, maybe, giving and taking.
            And that, Harry would like.
            “No, I don’t mind,” he said, and Malfoy’s face blazed as bright as his feathers, lit from behind by true interior radiance.
*
delia cerrano: Maundy would fume if she knew that she brought them closer.
SP777: I thought about saving that title for this chapter, but I think “Thoroughness” covers it as well.
eros: Harry at least thinks that’s possible, although he doesn’t know much about it.
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Nature of the Beast