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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
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Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Twenty-Seven—This Is It
“Mother.”
Harry came around the corner and nodded to Narcissa. He’d known she was coming, but it was still strange to see her smiling at him. “Hello. Draco said that you wanted to talk about our bonding.”
“Yes.” Narcissa was carrying a strange bundle in her hands that looked like a folded kite. It wasn’t until she spread it out on the dining room table that Harry realized it was a kind of hollow, fan-shaped box with bits of ribbon and fabric stuck in every hollow. “I know that you want to choose the time of your bonding. That’s fine. But we need to choose the colors and the decorations and the robes you’ll be wearing right now.”
“Why?”
“So the tailors have time to make them, of course, dear.” Narcissa reached out when Harry remained silent and touched the back of his hand. “You were thinking of walking into Madam Malkin’s and ordering bonding robes that day, weren’t you?”
“I’ve always got my clothes there.”
Narcissa’s face looked as if she had a very definite opinion, but she didn’t say it. “Madam Malkin, as skillful as she is, doesn’t make bonding robes,” she settled for. “She only makes a certain number of standard outfits, including Auror robes and school robes, and then adjusts the magic on them and their size when someone wants to buy them. Bonding robes are worn only by the wizards bonding. And there’s a special kind that needs to be made when someone is bonding with a Veela.”
“And for me, too.” Draco spread his wings. “There’s not that many tailors who know how to make comfortable clothes.”
Harry frowned at him. “You’ve been uncomfortable about cutting the holes in the shirts and robes you wear most of the time, and you never told me?”
Narcissa’s face lit up as if someone had started a candle burning behind her smile. Draco smiled, too, but it was more private and made Harry shiver a little. “They’ve done all right,” Draco said. “There was no reason for me to trouble you about it as long as that was true. But now that we’re beginning our bonded life, which is the permanent one, I want more comfortable robes.”
Harry nodded. He didn’t much care what he wore, himself; he was always adding protective charms to them, but he could do that with just about any cloth that made his Auror robes. He wasn’t going to be an Auror anymore, though, and he should start thinking more about his mate’s comfort, too. “All right. Then let’s take a look at these colors. As long as you understand that I don’t care much about the color of the decorations and I’m not going to wear any robes that restrict my movements.”
“You won’t have to. Part of the point of the bonding is that Veela and mate are coming to each other freely. That means you’ll have to be free of movements, too, to show that you can whirl around and kick and dance and so on.”
Harry relaxed. That sounded tolerable, and somewhat better than the fancy Auror robes he’d had to wear at Ministry functions were. He bent over the table and watched as Narcissa stretched out a few shimmering pieces of cloth.
*
Draco tapped the sky-blue ribbons that his mother had brought. Mother gave him a slightly chiding glance. Draco knew what it was for, and ignored it. She thought it was somewhat cliché for him to want to get married surrounded by the colors of the sky. They were traditional for a Veela bonding. She had pressed sapphire silk on him, and green, and white, and silver, and almost anything else before that sky-blue one.
Draco didn’t care. He liked the color more than the tradition.
“Very well,” Mother said, and turned back to Harry. He’d picked out green and blue swathes of fabric after some bored and annoyed sighs, and he was regarding them with a frown. “What is the matter?”
“I like the way these feel. But look at this.” Harry picked up the fabric and pulled. It went taut. “That looks like it’s going to be tight and scratchy and uncomfortable.”
“Tailors, Harry,” Draco said, because poor Mother simply looked baffled. It was Draco’s duty to hold back his laughter, and he did so. “They’ll make sure that the robes you want fit. That’s one reason you go to tailors to make them.”
“Oh.”
Draco turned back to Harry. He’d picked up the dark blue fabric and glanced at it. “Will it go with those ribbons you chose, Draco?” he asked. “I have no idea.”
“It’ll be fine.” Draco nodded at the green. “You don’t like that? It brings out your eyes.”
Harry scowled horribly enough that Draco would have cringed from him if he was a criminal. “It’s like people need some feature to know me by. After the scar faded and people couldn’t comment on it as much anymore, they decided that they had to comment on my eyes. Talking constantly about how beautiful my eyes are and how I should bring them out and how they look like my mum’s and how they envy me for them—it’s so bloody boring. Some of them act like they’re about to steal them. It’s creepy.”
“So, you don’t like the green,” Draco said mildly.
Harry flushed. “Sorry. I don’t know why I went on about that.”
“Don’t worry, Harry,” Mother said, a faint smile on her face. Draco thought he knew why. Harry had relaxed enough to complain to them about a minor problem. It was an excellent sign that he would consider them family, soon. “You don’t have to wear it. I suppose that you won’t object to green decorations?”
“Unless one of the guests starts to natter on about my eyes. Permission to throw out anyone who does that?”
“It’s your bonding, that’s all the permission you need.” Draco paused. “You realized we haven’t discussed names?”
“Oh, right. I don’t mind who’s on the guest list as long as it includes the Weasleys and Hermione.”
“Not that, Harry. Whether you’ll take my name or not.”
“No.”
“Er.” Draco glanced at Mother. She only elevated her eyebrows a little, her face blank. “No discussion?”
“No.” Harry leaned back on the table, his arms folded and his face settling into those lines Draco hated, because it meant he was ready to fend off any argument no matter how reasonable. “I think we should keep our own names. We’re already well-known under them. I have no desire to stop being a Potter. I assume, from the way you made that little offer just now, that you have no desire to stop being a Malfoy. When we adopt children, I have no objection if you want to give them your surname only. But I’m not changing mine.”
Draco blinked a little, his mouth open. Mother was the one who stepped in, her smile bright but not touching her eyes. “If it’s being the last Potter that you object to, surely you would want to name at least one of the children Potter?”
“Maybe. We can discuss it when it becomes a reality.”
“But you won’t take the name Malfoy.”
“No.”
“Is it objectionable? You do not like it or want your name connected with it?”
Draco winced. Maybe Harry didn’t notice, but Mother was heading in the direction of an extremely courteous coercion.
“No. It’s not my name, though. And Draco and I are going to bond. That’s not the same as somehow losing our ability to be different people.”
Mother was silent for long enough that Draco glanced at her, but he honestly couldn’t read her face. Then she smiled and nodded, and it was like the winter sun becoming the summer one. “Yes, all right. As long as you don’t imply that there’s something dishonorable about becoming a Malfoy, then I have no objection.”
“With all due respect, Mrs. Malfoy, and as nice as you’re being to me, it’s not your objection that would matter. It’s Draco’s.”
Mother stared a little. Draco lifted his head and his wings. “And if I did have one?”
“The way you worded that tells me you don’t. But if you did, we would talk about it.”
Draco nodded, appeased and reassured. This would take some getting used to, especially since he thought Mother was probably still envisioning Harry as the one who would be lifted to new heights by bonding with Draco, but they would get used to it. They had already survived trials that hurt a lot more than this.
“Now,” Mother said, and took out a series of small glass ornaments that Draco blinked at it. He had mostly seen them hanging on the Christmas trees at the manor. He supposed there was no reason they couldn’t also hang at the wedding, though. “If we’ve decided on blue ribbons, then I think white ornaments, the color of clouds, should be the choice here…”
*
Harry leaned on the railing of the balcony where he had started to tell Draco about the Dursleys, and stared out at the grass. The gardens looked as perfect as ever. Harry sighed as he watched a wind sway the tallest flowers, which were closed right now, because the sun had already set.
“Are you all right?”
“I was just thinking,” Harry said. “In a fortnight we’re going to be bonded. I never even thought about getting married for years, and now I’m going to be bonded.” He turned his head and looked Draco in the eye, knowing what he would think without the words. “I’m happy about that, honestly. But it’s overwhelming.”
“Why didn’t you think about getting married?”
“I’m extremely monogamous.”
“That should make you think more about it. Shouldn’t it?”
Draco sounded a little uncertain. Harry smiled and reached out to stroke his left wing. Draco made a soft chirping sound and snuggled closer to him. “No, I meant that I’m choosy, really. I would have married Ginny, I think, but neither one of us was ready. And Michael…he didn’t want to think about it. Neither did I. Having fun for a while seemed more important. I would have wanted to get married, but I would have had to find someone first. Not a lot of people out there who are the combination of decent and honest and strong that I wanted, plus wouldn’t fly off and tell tales to the papers.”
Draco’s wings fluttered and tensed at the mention of Ginny, then the mention of Michael. Harry ignored that and kept talking. They were past the petty jealousies by now, anyway.
“So I’m glad that you showed up and made the decision easy.” Harry leaned his head against Draco’s shoulder and sighed. “It would have been so hard to be ready for marriage someday and then spend years finding someone.”
Draco leaned harder on him. “You understand the difference between marriage and bonding?”
“I did read those books you gave me, you know.”
“You know that there are—punishments if one of the bonding partners isn’t true.”
“You can say the word unfaithful, Draco. And stop growling. I’m never going to be like that. I never would have been even if I was only married. That’s not who I am.”
Draco stopped growling, finally. He nodded. “I’m grateful this happened because I love you and because it means that some of the same uncertainty is gone. But I’m also glad that no one else is ever going to get to know you the way I do.”
Harry rolled his eyes. Possessive Veela. If he limited it to a few comments in private, though, that would be fine.
“And you’re going to tell Kingsley that you want to resign from the Aurors tomorrow?”
“I’m not resigning tomorrow.”
“I meant that you’d have the conversation with him tomorrow. Git.”
“Yeah.” Harry exhaled slowly and looked up at the stars. He suspected it was a delusion that they were brighter here in France. “I wanted to wait, but—there’s no reason to. He ought to let us help with escorting the French Veela to Asovima. He certainly doesn’t have anyone else who can do it.”
“If he doesn’t let us help, I will personally fluff out my wings and look very displeased.”
Harry laughed. “You can talk to him some other time.”
“I’m coming with you tomorrow.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Draco.” Harry reached out and lightly gripped his wrist. “There’s no reason for you to do that. There’s no one there who’s going to harm me. Klaine isn’t an Auror anymore, he won’t have access. And Kingsley’s not my enemy.”
“And there isn’t someone there who’ll be measuring my time with a watch and thinking it a sign of jealousy if I crash through the fireplace too soon.” Draco draped his wing around Harry’s shoulders, and Harry relaxed with a grumble at the rush of warmth through him. It was hard to argue when Draco did that, which was why he did it. “Name me one reason I shouldn’t be there.”
Harry thought about it, but in the end, he reckoned he would feel better if Draco went. Knowing he would have one person on his side in the office would make it easier to resist the pleas he thought Kingsley would probably make. “Okay. But if you make one threatening move towards Kingsley, I’ll kick you out of the Ministry myself.”
“I doubt I’ll have to threaten him. I’ll enjoy the look on his face too much.”
*
“But…you were cleared of any wrongdoing when we had that trial with Klaine.”
“I know, Kingsley. That’s not the reason that I decided to quit the Aurors. I want to do something else with my life.”
Shacklebolt still looked stunned. As if Harry had marched in and declared himself a Death Eater, Draco mused. He did have to wonder what the man thought Harry was going to do if he wasn’t an Auror. Just die?
But Shacklebolt asked something else. “Is this because you’re mated to a Veela? You’re afraid that some of the Aurors won’t be welcoming? I’m sure, Harry, that Nathan is a representative of a very small minority…”
“He didn’t even have much to do with Draco. It was more me surviving where his brother didn’t.” Harry sighed, and his face seemed to age a little. “No, really, this a decision I should have made a while ago and I’ve been putting off, Kingsley. It’s not good for me anymore. I face death too much. I don’t take pleasure in what I’m doing. I was so focused on completing the mission when Draco and I were in the other dimension that I barely mourned the ones who died.” He paused. “Maybe that’s the real reason. I’m tired of seeing people die around me, of living where others don’t.”
Shacklebolt opened his mouth, then closed it slowly. “No one except people like Nathan blames you for that,” he said, but Draco could see the fear, flaring low and cold at the backs of his eyes, even if Harry couldn’t.
Draco wanted to snort. There was part of Shacklebolt that feared Harry, maybe simply because he came back from missions that killed other Aurors. It was stupid, but it was another indication that it was time for Harry to leave the Aurors.
Harry smiled in a way that told Draco he’d seen that fear. “It’s the best decision all around, Kingsley. But I hope that you’ll still let me and Draco escort the French Veela into the new dimension and to Asovima, because we’re still the best ones for the job. I have my training and Draco has his instincts and his claws and his wings, even if we’re not Aurors.”
“The Veela might riot even if I wanted to take you off the mission,” Shacklebolt said. “They don’t trust most of my emissaries. It was a pain to get them to agree to what I did. They only agreed to the emigration because they’re desperate and they heard it would be a Veela and his bonded mate leading them.”
Draco grinned. “Then we’d better get on with our bonding,” he told Harry.
Shacklebolt stared. “I thought—you were bonded. I mean, the way Harry talked about it.” He stopped, obviously not wanting to refer to the topic of sex.
“The formal bonding,” Draco said. “What we use instead of a wedding.” He pulled Harry to his feet and draped a wing across his shoulders. “It’ll make the Veela feel better. And besides, we want to.”
“Of course, of course.” Shacklebolt still looked vaguely creeped-out, but that was his own problem. Draco wasn’t going to worry about it. “Well. If you want to let me know your timeline for getting bonded, and I’ll let you know the timeline for taking those Veela to Asovima.”
“Of course,” Draco said, and inclined his head, and swept out with Harry next to him.
“You just wanted to force him to cope with the idea of us having sex,” Harry muttered once they were in the lift.
“I told you I would be entertained, not threatening.”
Harry only scowled for a moment before kissing him, so as far as Draco was concerned he’d won.
*
Thunderbird: Thank you! It was a bit of a rollercoaster, yes, but hopefully it'll get better now.
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Temporary Mate