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Dragon He Saved	By : Prentice Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 15781 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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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Title: Dragon He saved

Author: Prentice

Rating: NC17; FRAO (Fan Rated Adults Only)

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Violence, Foul Language, Sexual Content

Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy

Spoilers: Books 1 thru 4

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Drama

Series: Yes. DHS.

Archive: Ask first, please.

Feedback: Is always cherished and appreciated.

Disclaimer: The names of all characters contained here-in, are the
property of J.K. Rowling, the WB, Bloomburg books and etc. No infringements of
these copyrights are intended, and are being used here without permission. No
profit was made and no harm was done.

Author�s Note: Remember, suspend your beliefs! Just one chapter
today since I don't have much time. I'll try to get more up tomorrow!

Summary:
Harry has
one chance to save the only thing he ever wanted

-----

Chapter 22

The next morning Harry was out of bed and dressed before the first rays of
sunlight spilled in through his window. He was too jittery to stay in bed
longer. Every bit of cloth that touched his skin seemed as though it were trying
to suffocate him. Even the flimsy night shirt he had on was like a blanket of
steel, smothering him.

That was why he now stood shirtless in the mid-morning sunlight, a faded pair
of blue jeans his best friend Ron had given him hanging low on his hips. Every
now and again he would let his arms unfurl from where they were curled around
his chest to sweep aside the be ragged curtains to check if there was someone
there.

He didn't think there would be but -- you never know. Even when you know,
you never really know. He had learnt that the hard way. A shudder ran
through his body, remembering the last Defense Against the Dark Arts class he
had attended the year before.

They had gotten a new professor, as per usual, for the class. Her name had
been Madame Artanis and she was even worse than Snape, if possible. She drilled
them daily about things that they had yet to learn and given them weekly pop
quizzes on different sections of the supernatural. Even Hermione had been hard
pressed to scrap through that year relatively unscathed. Especially since Madame
Artanis liked to give them nasty surprises.

One in particular still stuck with Harry till this day. He had walked into
class already prepared for the worst since he was running five minutes late
when, what did he find? All the young men in the room fawning over, none other
than, a real life veela while Madame Artanis had looked on with immense
amusement. She'd been given her notice three days later and the class had been
taken over by Professor McGonagall.

It had definitely been a more pleasant experience after that but everyone was
still a bit shaken up since most of the young men hadn't been able to get from
under the veela's control for quite some time. Most of them had suddenly taken
ill, choosing to stay hidden in their dorm room instead of having to face the
sometimes angry, sometimes amused comments from their fellow classmates.

Except...

//Except Draco.// Harry thought, letting himself form a mental picture of
that day. His eyes slipped close as he thought on it. He remembered running
neck-or-nothing down the hall, his school robes flapping behind him, as he tried
to make it to DADA class before he got caught by Feltch or worse, Snape. When he
finally reached the class, after almost crashing into a statue that liked to
move from place to place randomly, Harry had thrown open the door to find the
strangest scene of his life: fifteen Slytherin and Gryffindor boys bowing,
dancing, and, in some cases, flexing their muscles in front of a Veela that was
swaying her hips seductively at them. Harry�s books dropped to the ground
unnoticed in his shock. The noise was enough to attract the attention of
Hermione and a few other girls whom were looking on angrily at all of the men of
the respective houses.

The bushy haired girl had come running to Harry�s side and dragged him out
the class room, muttering something about how she couldn't stand to see Harry
act like a "complete and utter ass" as well. Harry had gone willing but not
before he saw Draco Malfoy, standing in the back of the class looking annoyed as
hell.

//Why hadn't the veela bothered him?// Harry mused, raising his face to the
sun and stroking fingers through his hair. He tried to recall the memory of his
fourth year when he went to the quidditch world cup with the Weasleys but even
as he tried to remember if Draco had been affected by the veela's then, he
couldn't. That part of the world cup was a blur.

//Maybe everyone's right about him...// Harry reflected, opening his eyes
once again. Ever since the World Cup there had been rumors that the Malfoy�s had
some veela blood in them. Harry had dismissed them at the time. For Merlin�s
sake, Draco...a veela? It was too ridiculous.

//He does look it though.//

Harry turned, leaning his back against the corner of the window, sunlight
shinning over half his face and body as he stared at the sleeping boy.

Draco's perfectly pale cheeks had small rosette splotches on them, his
eyelids fluttered occasionally as he dreamed something unknown and his lithe
body had wiggled it's way from beneath the sheet to lay just on the edge of
sunlight, none of his skin actually touching but...

//He can't be a veela. Veela's are women. All of them.// He mused silently to
himself. After the catastrophe in DADA, Professor McGonagall had taken it upon
her self to devote an entire part of study to veela research. All the students
soon found all the characteristics of them and how to fight them off. To say
that Draco was a male veela was too much of a stretch of the imagination.

But even so, Harry couldn't help but be curious. Draco may not be a veela but
there was definitely something there...something that made him different.

"W-why is it that every time I wake up, you're staring at me Potter?" Draco
mumbled, turning his head and yawning into the pillow.

Harry just continued to stare, enjoying the pulsing in his scar as he watched
Draco stretch. That's the way things were now. No matter if Harry was touching
Draco or not, as long as he was in the boy�s presence, his scar tingled. It was
slowly growing to the point where, even if he wasn't in the same room as Draco,
his scar would tingle.

It was oddly exhilarating. He couldn't help but wonder if the blonde felt the
same. Was his scar tingling and sending bolts of pleasure through him as well?
On more than one occasion Harry had seen Draco lying sprawled on the bed, using
his fingertips to trace the jagged lightening bolt scar, staring at Harry with a
contemplative look on his face.

"Potter? Harry?" Draco asked again, not bothering to tug down his sleep shirt
as he sat up.

"You look like a veela." Harry blurted before he could stop himself.
Instantly, his cheeks burned red. //Well that's what you get for letching over
him instead of keeping your tongue.//

He watched in humiliation as Draco arched a scarred brow (it had long since
healed but still left his eye-brow spliced).

"I...I mean...that's what people say. You know since...I...er...I'm going to
be quiet now." The Gryffindor stammered, his blush spreading down his neck and
onto his chest. Draco gave a smoky chuckle.

"Y-you certainly like to put your foot in it, don't you?" The blonde asked,
looking at Harry with bemused gray eyes. Harry just nodded dumbly, letting his
eyes wander back out to the window. He could feel Draco's smiling eyes still on
him but he couldn't bring himself to look back.

The sound of the bed sheets rustling was the only thing that forced Harry to
look over again. The blonde was carefully standing on shaky legs. Despite Draco
having regained most of his strength, it was still a precarious event when he
choose to scuttle about the room.

"Do you need -- ?" Harry began but the Slytherin cut him off.

"You're wrong, you know."

"I'm -- huh?"

Draco smiled and shuffled towards Harry, using the desk chair to balance. "I
don't look like a veela. I'm not one." He waved a hand, silencing the comment
that had sprung to Harry's lips. " Despite what everyone seems to think. And I
do know they say that about me, Harry. I don't mind."

Harry blushed again, suddenly feeling more than a little foolish. Draco just
continued to smile at him gently.

"If you're looking for an explanation for why I look the way I do..." Draco
shrugged, finally reaching Harry's side in the sunlight. "I've always looked
this way. I don't know why. Does there have to be a reason?"

Harry shook his head, swallowing thickly. With Draco this close he could
smell the blonde's wintergreen scent and feel the cool skin washing over his
own. Without thought, Harry wrapped an arm loosely around Draco's waist under
the pretense of helping the blonde stay steady. Draco smile widened as he turned
to look outside.

In the sunlight, Draco's now shaggy hair shown white, his gray eyes sparkling
in the sun to give them an unearthly glow. Desire welled in Harry, one that he
couldn�t quite put a name to and didn�t think he wanted to just yet. He wanted
to see Draco's scar -- touch it -- feel it's shape.

Leaning closer till his warm breath ruffled Draco's wild hair, he lifted a
hand and brushed it through the silky blonde locks that still smelled of Harry's
shampoo. Since some of his strength had been gained back, Draco had demanded a
shower almost every night...with Harry's aid, of course.

"Mmm...that feels good." Draco sighed, leaning more heavily against Harry's
chest. Harry let out a low groan of pleasure as the Slytherin's cool skin
slithered across his own sun-warmed chest and abs. This was truly as close to
bliss as Harry had ever been.

On his own accord, the blonde rested his cheek against Harry's shoulder,
wrapping one arm around the Gryffindor�s middle. They were a perfect fit...just
barely the same height but still a small enough difference so that they fit
together like puzzle pieces.

A shiver ran down Harry's spine as pulled Draco closer with one arm and
pressed his fingers into the blonde locks once again with the other. His breath
caught as the lightening bolt, so similar to his own, came into view. How could
something so simple be so...sexy?

"Draco..." Harry whispered, his breath ruffling the hair by the blonde's ear.

"Hmm?" Draco asked, his eyes slipping closed in pleasure. He was beginning to
love being touched...at least by Harry.

"Can I...would you mind if I..." Harry voice trailed off as he sighed. How
could he ask something like this...?

Draco rubbed his cheek against Harry's shoulder like a contented cat. "What
is it?"

"Can I...touch you?" Harry whispered, his voice wavering slightly with
nerves.

"You are t-touching me."

The Gryffindor buried his nose into Draco's hair. "No...I mean...your...the
scar."

The blonde's movements stilled instantly. Harry held still, arms holding just
as tightly as before but with just enough slack for if the other boy pulled
away. He didn't.

"Just...t-touch it? Nothing else?"

Harry's chest clenched. Draco sounded so small just then.

"Just touch." He assured, rubbing small circles into Draco's back.

"O-o-okay."

Pleasure and relief coiled through Harry. This was a precious gift the blonde
was giving him; showing that kind of trust to someone who would have normally
been labeled enemy.

Holding his breath, Harry let his hand in the blonde's hair move down till
his fingertips were pressed flush against the jagged scar. Draco stood stock
still, pressed against him, not trying to pull away or press closer. Harry took
that as encouragement.

Running his shaking fingers down it, he felt himself sway closer till his
nose and face were once again nuzzling into Draco's hair. Every so often his
lips would brush the tip of Draco's ear causing the blonde to shudder against
him. This was so different from the times that Harry had touched his own scar.

The few times that he had, Harry had thought his own scar felt rough and
ragged against his otherwise smooth skin. But Draco -- Draco�s scar was
something else entirely. Unlike Harry�s own scar that almost puckered from his
skin, the blonde�s lightening bolt was smooth, almost as if it had always been
there and tickled the flesh on Harry�s fingertips.

Trailing the side of his fingernail against the side of the scar, Harry felt
Draco shuddered in pleasure against him.

�Sensitive.� Harry murmured, feeling a jerky nod against his shoulder. He
nodded absentmindedly. His own scar was usually sensitive. In the winter months,
his scar would feel the cold more so than the rest of his body till he could
feel the outline of it against his skin.

Minutes ticked on as Harry ran his fingers over the other boy�s scar again
and again, feeling with each pass the boy�s body shudder. Draco shuffled forward
a step and Harry couldn�t help but gasp, echoing Draco�s own. Warm and pulsing
against his thigh, he could feel the other boy. Draco�s arms tightened.

�H-ha-harry� Draco moaned softly, his fingers flatting against Harry�s back
to slide against the Gryffindor�s spine.

Harry moved his face till his lips rested gently against the boy�s temple. He
massaged his fingers against the boy�s scar, keeping his touch feather like.
Harry fought down his own loud moan when he felt Draco�s hips begin to rock
against him.

�Harry.�

Harry pressed a kiss against the boy�s temple, shifting his legs open wider
till the blonde shifted between them, pressing himself firmly against Harry�s
own straining jeans. Draco moaned deep within his throat as his hips continued
to rock.

Letting one hand drop to the boy�s hip, Harry wrapped his fingers against the
slim hips, using a gentle motion to encourage the boy�s movements. Each press of
Draco�s straining flesh against him sent electrical jolts down his spine as his
own soft denim rubbed against him. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he raised his
own hips and began to move in rhythm with the blonde�s movements.

Harry kept the pace slow, despite wishing he could just lift the other boy in
his arms, lean him against the desk and just...let go.

A soft strangled noise came from between Draco�s lips as they fell open
against Harry�s shoulder. He panted. Harry�s fingers tightened against the boy�s
hips, pausing their motion to grind himself into Draco. Draco�s fingernails dug
into his back.

"H-harry..." The blonde croaked out. Harry ignored him, dropping his head
further to press tiny kisses along the blonde�s hair line. "Harry, I---Who�s
that?"

The words didn't register. "Hm?"

"Harry..." Draco was pulling away from him, his face etched with a small
amount of fear, even as he wrapped his arms around his front. Harry blinked,
confusion welling inside him.

//Why is he pulling away?//

"Harry...Harry, l-l-look!" Draco stuttered, jerking a hand towards something
outside the window.

Harry turned his face back to the window, confusion welling. What the hell
was Draco talking ab---NO!

The Gryffindor's blood rain cold as he look through the warm glass of the
window and saw, none other than, his godfather, Sirius Black, staring up at the
window with a look of pure shock.
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