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Temporary Mate	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 17288 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 23
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Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Twenty-Four—The Retaliation
“It will be all right, Draco. It will be all right.”
Harry had been repeating those words and variations on them for the last half-hour. He hated that he couldn’t think of anything else to do right now, but Draco just seemed so broken. And when Harry had tried to move away to get blankets to wrap around him, Draco had immediately tightened his arms and his wings and crooned, a sound so unhappy it made Harry’s bones shiver. In the end, Harry had called the house-elves and had them bring blankets and tea instead.
They were still downstairs, near the hearth. At least Draco had consented to sit down at the table and let Harry stand near him and stroke his back. He still panicked and snapped his wings out if Harry moved so much as a foot away.
Harry half-closed his eyes. Part of him was sure that Narcissa would handle this and make Lucius sorry he’d been born. But that didn’t do anything for Draco right now.
I want to help him. I want to show him that, even if his father couldn’t be convinced to change his mind, he still has me.
That was probably part of it, Harry thought with a start. Draco’s father had abandoned him. At the moment, Draco was exquisitely sensitive to the thought that anyone else might do the same.
Harry knelt down in front of him and took his hands. Draco gave him a glazed look. At least it was better than the absolute blankness his eyes had held before.
“I’m never going to leave you.”
Draco’s wings quivered again, and words welled out of his mouth. “You won’t have a choice. You’ll have to go back to your Auror job, and your friends—”
“You can come if you want.”
“You didn’t want me to. I have to let you go. I have to prove I don’t want to control you.”
“But I know that you’re not going to try and control me. And I don’t think that—this will last forever. You can come with me, Draco. You can hold me when we sleep together. You can be with me every hour of the day, if that’s what it takes. You have me. All right? Whatever you need, whatever it takes to prove that. I’m yours.”
Draco’s eyes stared straight at him, looking like two pools of darkness in ice for a moment. Harry tightened his grip on his hands. He wasn’t sure what else he could say. He supposed he had to wait for Draco to respond, and then he’d decide. But he was here, no matter what. He was close, no matter what.
“Harry,” Draco said, and his voice didn’t sound broken anymore. Harry reached up and ran the back of his hand along Draco’s cheek.
Draco’s hand snapped up and caught his. Turning, Draco pressed his nose against Harry’s palm and inhaled. Harry shuddered, a strong current of pleasure working through him. Draco made a soft noise, and Harry was hard so suddenly it made him dizzy.
“Yes,” Draco said, as if talking to himself. “This is the way it has to be.” He scooped Harry up and spread his wings. It seemed as if they blurred through corridors and up stairs and down into a doorway instead of flying. Then they were next to a bed Harry hadn’t seen before, in a bedroom where everything was pale, and Draco laid him down on the bed and covered Harry with his body.
Harry gripped at Draco’s shoulders, and gasped as his clothes abruptly dissolved into colored puddles. He stared at them on the sheets for a second before Draco’s hand grasped his chin and wrenched his head up.
This time, meeting Draco’s eyes was more like looking into twin pools of fire. “You meant what you said about letting me have you?”
“You already do. I’m yours, Draco. Do what you need to do.”
Draco bent down and flicked his tongue across Harry’s neck, at the same time as a bolt of brutal pleasure shot through him. Harry gasped and tried to say something, but Draco’s tongue and teeth were too busy for that. His words trailed off into a moan, and he lifted his legs and spread his arms, trying to embrace Draco, trying to get closer.
Draco pulled back a little and looked him straight in the eye as he made a strange noise, like a flat croon. Harry flinched a little as he got so hard so fast that it was painful. Draco licked his lips and stood there, as if waiting for Harry to tell him to stop.
“No,” Harry said, or panted, or stared, or something. He just knew he had to get this across to Draco somehow, even if he didn’t have control of his voice right at the moment. “I trust you. I said I did. I’m yours. Take me.”
Draco swooped down on him.
His fingers and his tongue were a blur, and so was the pleasure and pain that surged through Harry’s body and became so mixed that it was hard to tell exactly what was happening to him. He knew his eyes were rolling back, that his hands sometimes closed on air and sometimes on skin, and that he felt and heard Draco more than he saw him. He knew all that, but his world was still a haze.
Draco was everywhere at once, pressing on spots that Harry hadn’t known existed, and his body was shuddering with delicious peals of thunder that seemed to break just under his breastbone, and now and then he touched a wing and Draco shuddered with him. The haze had him most of the time, though.
That was all right. That was just fine. Because Harry knew that Draco would never let him fall into the fog and become lost within it.
Then suddenly it all cleared away, and Harry knew with intimate brightness that Draco had prepared him and was sliding into him. He huffed and arched his back, trying to relax as much as he could. The alertness singing through him made it difficult.
Draco bit the side of his neck gently, and tranquility passed through Harry in only the way that adrenaline ever had. He reached up, hooked his hand behind Draco’s neck, and beamed at him madly, leaning further up to softly lick his lips.
“You’re amazing.”
It seemed those were words Draco had been waiting to hear, because he moved Harry further up the bed and settled into fucking him. There was no pain at all, which was maybe magic and maybe the preparation that Harry didn’t remember. But it didn’t matter. Because he was with someone who wouldn’t leave him by himself.
Harry gently smoothed his hands over Draco’s cheekbones and rubbed a finger against his teeth. Then Draco bent down and kissed him, and draped them with his wings. Harry sighed and closed his eyes.
The darkness behind his eyelids was still full of Draco, silver swirls of delight and power and Veela-ness. Harry held on, and knew Draco was all around him, sheltering him and supporting him and making love to him.
He came with no sound, he was so caught up in staring at those silver swirls. He felt a kiss on his cheek, as desperate as everything else that he’d felt so far, and Draco followed him. And then Harry did cry out, because Draco’s orgasm was more pleasurable to him than his own had been. His lower body was almost cramping with how good he felt.
Draco laid him back down, licking his eyelids and then gently kissing his nose. By the time Harry opened his eyes, he had returned enough to himself to look a little embarrassed.
“You’re kissable,” he muttered, the first clear words he’d spoken since they flew up here. He rested against Harry, seemingly unable to let go even now. Harry didn’t mind that. He touched Draco’s wings and his collarbone and his bare back—he didn’t even remember Draco taking his own clothes off—because he didn’t want to let go of him, either.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No. Everything was perfect.”
Draco seemed almost to melt with relief above him. “The last thing I remembered wasn’t clear.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” Harry turned his head until Draco ought to be able to feel Harry’s eyelashes sliding against his skin, and then sighed. “Go to sleep. That’s something you can do right now, right?”
Draco grunted out what could have been a complaint or an insult. But since he fell asleep halfway through it, it wasn’t as though it impressed Harry much.
Harry smiled, kept his own eyes closed, and followed him into slumber.
*
“Stop looking at me like that. I can hear you accusing yourself right now.”
Draco started. He hadn’t actually meant to wake Harry up with the force of his stare, but it seemed that was what had happened. Harry stirred, yawned, and then sat up, looking Draco in the face in that fearless way he had.
“I asked for you to take me. You did. The only things I feel are a few aches and pains that were probably caused more by the Floo than you. Because I know Veela magic made me as comfortable and gave me as much pleasure as possible. So stop accusing yourself of not taking care of your mate.”
Harry was walking his fingers up Draco’s arm. Draco caught his hand and brought Harry’s wrist to his mouth, gently blowing on it. “You seem to have learned Legilimency when I wasn’t looking.”
Harry’s faint smile dissolved into laughter, and he leaned up and kissed Draco firmly. Draco kissed back and didn’t let himself lean down and be drawn into something more than the kiss. At this point, he was going to ache even if Harry didn’t, and he wasn’t sure that he could summon enough magic right now to make it comfortable for his mate.
“Now. Do you want to talk about what we should do in the face of your father’s disowning you?”
“Mother is probably already at the Manor talking to him. That she hasn’t tried to reach me by owl or Floo yet means that it’s going to take a long time. And…and this place is mine, he can’t take it away, and I have a vault that he can’t touch, either. In case the disownment is permanent—”
“You’re worried about being able to take care of me?”
Draco reared back and hissed at him. “Yes, I am! I don’t care how rich you are, a Veela is supposed to be able to cherish and protect his mate against all the ills of the world! I should be able to afford you the best food and the best Healers and clothes so luxurious they make silk seem cheap—”
“And is there a law that a mate can’t take care of his Veela?”
“Not a law! I just—I wanted to take care—”
“I know. But I’m going to take care of you, too, Draco. I don’t want you to mistake that. I’ll do whatever I have to so you can face your father and have everything you need.”
Harry’s chin was stubbornly uplifted, and the look in his eyes told Draco that he wasn’t about to get around him. He sighed and pulled Harry close to him, stroking his hair. He wondered what he’d done to get lucky enough to have a mate like this, but he didn’t feel like discussing it right now.
“Do you want to eat something?”
Draco nodded and dragged himself off the bed. He didn’t feel that hungry, but if he didn’t eat, Harry wouldn’t eat, and that was unacceptable.
Harry looked down at the clothes that were now only multicolored spots on the sheets—Draco didn’t remember melting them, but he knew what a Veela’s magic looked like—and then Summoned Auror robes and draped them around his shoulders while Draco got dressed in a set of spare robes himself. He led the way down to the dining room, not touching Draco, but looking at him firmly enough over his shoulder that Draco had no choice about following.
Not that he wanted to be far from his mate at the moment, anyway. Harry had somehow known exactly what to do to calm him down. That was amazing. And that meant everything else, including what his father had done, was survivable.
They found a meal waiting under Warming and Preservation Charms for them, courtesy of the house-elves. Harry rolled his eyes a little but put up with Draco’s determination to spoon soup into his mouth, tear up chunks of bread for him, and spread soft cheese over scones for him. Then Draco attended to his own needs, while Harry leaned against him in companionable silence.
They’d mostly finished when an owl hurtled through the open window above the far door. Draco found himself tensing until he realized the envelope it carried wasn’t red. He sighed and reached out a hand. Harry tensed in turn, as if he really wanted to take any curses the letter carried on himself, but suffered Draco to open and read it.
My dear son,
I have managed to reverse part of your father’s stubbornness, but not all. He has said only that he may accept you back into the family if you prove the worth of your mate to him. I think he needs to speak with you face-to-face to determine that worth. Please come to the Manor as soon as possible, and bring Harry with you. I hate to force you to this, but I literally cannot press any more without using the Imperius Curse on him.
Your loving mother.
Harry leaned over to read it, and nodded. “All right. Do you feel up to Flooing there, Draco? I know that you’ll probably want to change your clothes, but—”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, that we’re going to confront this imbecile and settle things as quickly as possible.”
“But you’re the one who just got fucked to within an inch of his life.”
“I know what fucking feels like, and that wasn’t it. That was everything I wanted and didn’t know I wanted.” Harry leaned up to kiss him, so sweetly that Draco felt as though someone had lit a candle under his skin. “Come on. As long as you’re ready, then we can face him.”
Draco swallowed and spent a moment straightening his hair. Then he gave up on his dangling, rumpled clothes and simply cast a few Freshening Charms. Harry pulled back and smiled at him.
“I look presentable?”
“I’m not the best judge. I think you look wonderful no matter what you’re wearing.”
Draco managed to laugh, and then followed Harry to the Floo. He thought he might leave the confrontation mostly up to Harry. Draco might look wonderful, but right now, Harry was wonderful.
*
It was extremely satisfying to see the constipated expression on Lucius Malfoy’s face when Harry walked out of the fireplace in the Manor first.
“What are you doing here? I consented to speak to my son—”
“I’m your son’s mate, and I’m not leaving,” Harry said in a level voice as he stepped to the side so that Draco could exit from the flames. Draco’s anxious eyes darted back and forth between him and his father, but Harry ignored the way that he could feel his Veela flinching. He had something to say. “You didn’t even do us the courtesy of telling us what the Daily Prophet said that you found so objectionable. Do you happen to have a copy?” He turned his head so that he was more addressing Narcissa, who sat in a chair off to the side.
Narcissa stood up and walked over to them with the newspaper extended. Harry scanned the article, then snorted. He didn’t need to read the whole thing to know what it was about. Their sex life, or rather, Skeeter’s speculations about their sex life. “Size queen” was the kindest thing mentioned, along with a faux-innocent sentence about Harry limping that day in the Ministry of Magic, and what it probably meant.
“She’s crossed the line,” Harry said, and smiled a little. He wasn’t going to bother with a lawsuit right now. He had a better weapon poised over Skeeter’s head. “I’ll deal with her.”
“This does not change the fact that my son has been made a laughingstock.”
Harry slowly switched his gaze to Lucius Malfoy. He heard Draco gasp a bit behind him. “Do leave him alive, please,” he muttered.
Harry reached back and grasped his mate’s hand without a sign that he’d heard him. “Exactly what do you think I’m going to do, Mr. Malfoy? Abandon him? Never. Bad things can happen to him just like they can to me. I’m not going to lie down and not take revenge.”
“I—”
“You’re one of those bad things, Mr. Malfoy, as far as I’m concerned,” Harry went on, never looking away from Lucius. “I’m going to make you see the wisdom of taking your son back. And I’m not even going to do it by hurting you. Although I could. I hurt worse wizards than you every day I’m an Auror. I could perform countercurses that would make your bones tremble. I could haul you in for use of the Dark magic I can feel all around this house. But I’m not going to do that. It wouldn’t cow you. It wouldn’t teach you a lesson.
“I’m going to tell you how wonderful your son is, instead. He did what he had to do to keep us both alive in the other dimension, and he fought against his instincts as long as he could. He’s brave. When we surrendered to the inevitable and our bond became a true one, he treated me well, despite our past history. He’s kind. He’s protected me since we came back to our world, but also accepted that he can’t control everything, and one of those things is my relationship with my friends. He’s practical. He fears losing contact with you and his mother, and he values his history. He’s loving. He’s done everything he can for me without driving me away, and worked with his instincts, and made compromises, and taught me things about myself I didn’t know. He’s intelligent.”
Harry moved a step forwards, eyes fixed on Lucius. He was faintly aware that Narcissa had stood up—he’d seen the movement from the corner of his eye—but he ignored her for the moment.
“If you’re stupid enough to disown a son like that,” he said softly, “then it’ll be my pleasure and privilege to take care of him for the rest of our lives, with the combined Black and Potter fortunes, and gratify his every wish, in the sure and certain knowledge that his father is a moron who can’t see what a good thing is when he has it.”
He turned around and stalked back to the fireplace, nodding at Draco. Draco started and then followed him.
“I hope Draco sees you soon,” Harry added over his shoulder, without looking back at Lucius. He threw in the Floo powder. “Draco’s Home!”
They whirled through the flames and landed. For once, Harry was graceful about it; he thought it was probably concern for Draco that made him keep his feet. He had to be there to catch Draco as he flew out and look into his face.
“Are you okay? Do you need—”
Draco was all over him in a second, crooning, shaking his head when Harry tried to say something, his fingers digging down into Harry’s shoulderblades and stroking as if Harry had wings himself. Harry tossed his head back and Draco’s kissing mouth followed, murmuring words Harry felt more than heard.
“Let me worship you. Please.”
And because it was what both of them wanted, Harry surrendered.
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Temporary Mate