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Light of Heaven	By : Draeconin Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 28741 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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
- 2
- 3
- 4
Light of Heaven
by Draeconin

See chapter one for ratings, summary and other details.

Disclaimer: If you don't recognize it, it's mine. Everything else belongs to the copyright holders.

Chapter 3
Waking up the next morning was a repeat of the one before - almost. This time, they weren't all that surprised. Not exactly pleased, but not surprised.
"Gods, Potter, get off me!" Draco groaned. Harry hadn't exactly been on top of him, but had been leaning against him, partially draped across one shoulder.
Rolling off to one side, Harry replied. "This is so fucked!" he complained.
"Well, you were the one on top of me," was the grumbled reply.
Harry's lips curled in a slight grin "So you pulled me on top of you, did you? How romantic!" he said, then giggled.
"Pervert! I don't want you even touching me!"
Harry sighed. "No more pervert than you, Malfoy. And, well, it doesn't look like we have much choice, do we? Our bodies are controlling us. Doesn't matter what we want; we're going to be disgustingly close for a while."
Draco mumbled something that Harry couldn't quite hear. Something that almost sounded like "Wasn't that bad..."
"What was that, Malfoy?"
"Never mind." Draco paused for a moment, then asked "Did you dream?"
Harry looked at him suspiciously from the corner of his eyes. "Why?"
"Just tell me. Did you dream?"
Harry considered the question from all angles. As suspicious as he'd always been of Malfoy, he couldn't see any harm in the question. After all, he didn't have to be specific, and he knew that Draco would feel it if he lied; so he replied. "Yeah. Had the same one a few times, now. You?"
"Of course not. I never remember my dreams."
"Draco, you can tell when I'm lying, now, and I can tell when you are."
Draco heaved a heavy sigh. "Yes."
"Have you had it before?"
It was like pulling nails with his teeth. "Yes."
"Tell me it."
"Why?"
"Because you were in my dream, and I want to know if I was in yours. And you did start this topic of conversation, so it's rather late to complain!"
"Bugger off, Potter!"
"As if I could. So was I?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Well, if you must know, yes. It was a bloody nightmare!"
Harry grinned. "If it was anything like mine, it might seem like it now, but not at the time. Right?"
Draco rolled over and glared at the raven-haired boy next to him. "And what would you know about it, Potter?"
"You're not really angry, you know," Harry said, enjoying himself immensely. "You're scared I'll find out, and..." Harry paused, eyes growing huge. "Oh, bugger," he whispered, awed.
"What?!"
"Um... What am I thinking, Draco?"
"How the bloody hell should I know, Potter? As if you have a brain!"
"Shut it, Malfoy. Now concentrate! What am I thinking?"
Draco, irritated but curious, did concentrate. "Oh, bloody hell," he moaned in disbelief "We had the same bloody dream?"
"That too, but you're missing the point, Malfoy."
In a split second, Draco knew what Harry was thinking, and sat bolt-upright in bed. "We're reading each other's minds? Get away from me, Potter!" This time Draco did try to get as far away from the other boy as possible. He managed to get out of the bed and a few yards away, before he sank to his knees. Then, trembling violently, he crawled back, only to be met halfway by Harry. Both boys were pale and panting, faces wet with cold sweat.
"Not - a - good idea - Malfoy," Harry gasped.
"Keep - out of - my bloody - mind!"
"Like I want - to see your - filthy mind?"
"At least I - have one!"
"A filthy mind? ... I agree."
At that, Draco threw a punch at the other boy, catching him on the cheek. Due to the awkward position, it wasn't a very hard punch. Still, it hurt. But what really surprised Harry was Draco's yell, and putting his hands over his own face, breaking contact again - but not for long.
"What are you up to, you bloody git?" Harry demanded, weakly. "Trying to make it look like I hit you?"
"No! It was like I hit myself! I felt the pain!"
Harry stared, amazed, at the blond boy, just as a voice came from behind them.
"Oh, my. Already?"
Two heads whipped around to find the source of that voice. "Professor McGonagall?" they chorused.
"I shall have to inform the Headmaster immediately!" the Transfigurations professor continued, turning to leave.
"Please wait, Professor McGonagall!" Harry pleaded. "What do you mean? What do you know?"
"I really should not be the one to tell you, boys. I'll report to Headmaster Dumbledore, and tell him you have some questions," she replied.
"But Professor..." Harry and Draco protested simultaneously.
"No," she replied firmly. "Your questions will be answered, but I have been requested not to divulge that information. The headmaster has requested that he be the one to handle that, if asked."
"Yes, Professor." Again, the two voices spoke as one.

"They seem to be bonding much faster than could be expected, Albus, and they want some answers. I believe they deserve some answers."
Dumbledore sighed. "You're right, Minerva. I'll be there in half an hour. There are a few matters I must attend to, first."

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter... I believe you have some questions?" The headmaster had, as was his habit, seemed to appear in the room without having had to walk into it first. The boys suspected that he might be doing just that, as their startled faces whipped around on their necks, causing Dumbledore to inwardly wince in wonder that they hadn't done themselves an injury.
"Yes, Headmaster," Draco answered. "We should be quite grateful for any information about what more can be expected from this bond than we've been told. I, at least, was under the impression that the only major difference would be an increase in power." To which Harry nodded his head in agreement, but winced at Draco's overly-stiff and formal wording. Draco's next words went to the other extreme. "And how the hell did it happen in the first place! We hate each other!" Draco continued, hotly. Harry now looked extremely shocked, to Dumbledore's amusement.
"To answer your last statement first, Mr. Malfoy; you don't." He raised his hand to forestall both boys' protests. "To begin with, you read your emotions about each other yesterday. That hasn't changed. You're still trying to deny them... No, now, let me finish, please," he said, as again he saw interruptions in their faces. "How old were you when you first met? Eleven, was it not? And not under the best of circumstances, at that. Have you seen how little boys react to little girls whom they find they have crushes on, and visa-versa, when they find unfamiliar, warm emotions towards another? Emotions they're not prepared to handle? They're confused, and have conflicting desires; to get close, and touch, on the one hand, and to make those uncomfortable emotions go away, on the other. Both urges are partially satisfied in aggression; they tend to pick on the other; to push, shove, or even hit. And if those feelings are reciprocated, then they often pick on each other."
"What does that have to do with us, Headmaster? Neither of us is a girl!" remarked Harry.
"And that just made the equation that much more complicated," Dumbledore replied.
Neither boy was slow of wit, so the implications of that remark were quickly grasped.
"But we're not...!" Harry protested, interrupting, then unable to finish the sentence.
"I'm not, anyway!" Draco chimed in, with a sneer.
"If I may finish without any more interruptions, you will be able to register your denials as you will," Dumbledore replied, somewhat impatiently, "although I do wish you'd stop making these silly macho gestures. Homosexuality is not an aberration!"
Taking a deep breath, Dumbledore continued. "As I was saying, you were eleven years old, you had met under less than optimum circumstances, and you were very much emotionally and physically ill-equipped to handle romantic love; let alone what, as you were taught was so, regardless of truth, was an unacceptable attraction to each other. By the time you had developed the psychological tools to handle your emotions, your ways of dealing with each other had become a deeply ingrained habit. If it hadn't been for the Power Partner potion, it may have taken another few years for you two to realise it, if then. Because of it, as I told you yesterday, you now have the ability to know each other's emotions and discover the truth. You seem to have found a way to again deny what you felt in each other yesterday; or are you just denying your own feelings to yourselves? Well, there's another way: Look deeply into each others' eyes, and see what you see," the headmaster ordered.
Reluctant, their movements towards looking into each other's eyes were slow; moving towards, then jerking away, but finally their eyes met - and they couldn't look away. Naked truth danced there. There was jealousy, envy, mistrust, fear of rejection, and a deep loneliness, but there was also respect, need, lust, and the strong, deep beginnings of an emotion that might someday be love. Not only did they see each other's emotions, but the realization of feeling their own emotions in the other boy's mind.
Deeply shaken, Harry and Draco looked away from each other, and sat silently for a couple of minutes. After recovering somewhat, Harry was the only one with enough confidence to ask, albeit with a voice that was trembling and shaky, "How... Um... We didn't even... How could you? Know, that is?"
"It is often much easier for those on the outside to see a situation truly than those involved, and I've had many years of experience as both teacher and headmaster to pick up on the signs. It also helps that I know some psychology." Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling wildly as he winked at the boys. He was very proud of himself.
"You're not - upset - then?" Harry asked, hesitantly.
"Upset? Not at all, my boy. As I said, the two of you were taught that this kind of relationship is wrong; for different reasons, of course. You, Mr. Potter, were brought up in a Muggle society that is paranoid of anything different, fearing and attacking those people and things that differ from the majority. That the difference is one which cannot be seen with the eyes makes it harder for them to accept. The reasons for that would make for a quite a long dissertation, so I won't go into that. Maybe some other time, if you're interested.
You, Mr. Malfoy, were brought up to think of yourself as breeding stock." As Draco opened his mouth to protest this statement, Dumbledore raised a hand, demanding patience. "Not in so many words, but you were constantly told that you had to carry on the Malfoy lineage and produce heirs?" At Draco's somewhat dazed nod as he woke to an unsavoury truth, the old wizard continued. "So any other way of life would, I am sure, have been presented to you - in reference only, of course - as being filthy; 'unworthy of a Malfoy' would have been a favourite phrase, if I recall Lucius correctly. But the wizarding world at large knows that magic and personality are the only truly important things about a person - not who they love."
Draco had recovered somewhat by then, and stood, shaking in rage (and still holding Harry's hand). "Love? Love?! Do you have any idea what this is going to do to my life? If I have one for long? If my father doesn't kill me, the Death Eaters are going to be after me, and even if I survive all that, I'll still be disinherited! And you talk of love?!" Near the end of his rant he started feeling rather weak, and had to sit down quickly in order to keep from falling down.
"Look at Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore ordered, coldly. The unfamiliar tone in the headmaster's voice made Draco look at him in shock, then at Harry. Harry's face was a bit pallid, eyes half-closed. "Didn't you feel the stress you were putting on your bond-mate, Mr. Malfoy?"
Strangely, for him, he felt stricken by the sight. "I... Yes, but... I just - didn't... I thought it was - just - me!"
"It's going to be at least a couple of years before you'll be able to separate enough for it to be 'just you' again, Mr. Malfoy; if you choose to be, by that time. Please keep that in mind," Dumbledore replied severely. "As for your very valid concerns... Well," he continued, looking somewhat abashed, "there's something more I must tell you. I did some research on your families yesterday, after your incident." He paused.
"What do our families have to do with this?" Harry asked. He had recovered quite quickly; far more quickly than when Draco and he had been throwing their anger at each other. Then, as a thought hit him, he became alarmed. "We're not related, are we?"
Dumbledore almost laughed at the boy's panic. "No; not that I found, anyway." Then, sobering, "I didn't think it would make a difference, but because events are proceeding so quickly, the information may very well be of use. Considering your state of denial, however, I doubt very much that you will find it pleasing."
Draco closed his eyes in an effort to remain calm. "Just tell us, Headmaster, and stop beating about the bush. And I do hope this has a bearing on keeping me alive?" Harry found himself quite enjoying Draco's stance. The old man was far too secretive and manipulative.
To both boys' surprise, and Draco's mischievous delight, a slight blush tinged the old man's cheeks as he was caught out in his procrastination. He quickly pulled himself together, however. "I ask that you do not interrupt or ask questions until I'm finished relaying my news. I wish to tell both of you what I have found out about each of you, before you shower me with your reactions."
Harry and Draco's eyes grew grave, then they nodded in agreement to the terms.
Dumbledore cast his stunner (In Muggle terms, he "dropped his bombshell".) "It turns out that neither of you are one hundred percent human."
Despite their promise, Harry and Draco erupted in stunned disbelief, Draco's argument paramount; Harry's being little more than a loud "What?!"
"Malfoys are pureblooded wizards!" Draco yelled, insulted beyond belief. "We are not..."
"Mr. Malfoy!" Albus forefully interrupted, "You will control yourself this instant! Twenty points from Slytherin House! You must learn to control your emotions, both of you!" It was so rare to see their headmaster angry, that the young men subsided.
When he saw they had calmed down enough to listen again, the headmaster continued.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy; insofar as bloodlines are concerned, one would have to go back quite a few centuries to find a Muggle in your family tree. However, if you consider the power a Veela can assert over a human, is it that hard to imagine that one of your ancestors may have wished to incorporate the blood into your family? You, Mr. Malfoy, are approximately one-quarter Veela, and you, Mr. Potter, may have a bit more than that, plus a trace of vampire."
Considering the question, and relating it to the usual goals of the Malfoy family, Draco could see one of his innumerable ancestors slobbering all over themselves with desire for anything that would increase power in the family; magical, political, or otherwise. It was a very disturbing thought. Still, he couldn't resist a dig at Mr.-Fucking-Wonderful Potter: "Vampire, Potter? How wonderfully Dark of you!" Draco said, baiting the Gryffindor. Harry glared at the blond, but didn't deign to reply.
"A trace of Noble Vampire, Mr. Malfoy, not Common Vampire; you appreciate the difference?" Dumbledore responded. "And these interruptions are becoming tiresome."
Harry thought the old man was starting to sound a little bit like Snape. It made for an interesting change. But what was a 'noble vampire'? Count Dracula? "What's the difference?"
"There are many, Mr. Potter; too many to go into right now. Suffice it to say that Noble Vampires are born, whereas Common Vampires are 'made' - much as you see in the Muggle cinema."
At the mention of Noble Vampires, Draco's eyes had widened almost imperceptibly. He was very good at hiding his emotions when he wished to. He nodded his head in response to the headmaster's earlier question.
Seeing Draco's renewed willingness to listen, Dumbledore continued. "The latter explains your colouring, Mr. Potter, as Mr. Malfoy more closely exemplifies Veela colouring. There was also a rumour of some satyr in your ancestry, Harry, but that was probably calumny."
"What -" Harry started, wanting to know more about 'noble' vampires.
"What that means, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore interrupted, getting a little of his own back, "is that you may both be due to experience a genetic 'heritage' on your sixteenth birthdays. The Power Partner potion triggering such a strong bonding between you makes it more likely, but it's still only guesswork. Although triggered artificially, I have no idea if it was fully triggered, or only partially. I suspect the latter. However, what it means for the two of you, is that if one or both of you do come into that genetic heritage, you will..." The headmaster paused, unsure of how to break the news to the boys, due to their ingrained views, and struggled for words.
Of course the answer Dumbledore gave wasn't in the least the one appropriate to the question Harry had been about to ask, but the young man was sufficiently distracted by the information Dumbledore had presented, that he let it go.
And upon seeing the headmaster's obvious discomfort, caused by trying to present the information, Harry and Draco felt a deep sense of dread about what the elderly man might say next. "Sir?" Harry hesitantly prompted, and the seconds dragged on.
Dumbledore sighed. There was nothing for it but to say it. "The two of you will - mate. Your natures will allow nothing less if you receive your inheritances, now that you are bonded. Of course, the mating should produce a bond of another kind, as well. Again, we are flying by starlight." (I.E: almost in the dark) What he didn't say, was that there were so many complicating factors that those who knew, and cared, were scared witless by the possibilities.
Harry and Draco only looked at him, a bit stunned.
"Considering everything we've had to accept today, sir, that's - still a bit hard to take," Harry finally said. "First the bond, then our sexuality, then our lineage - and now this? ... I suppose it's logical, but it's too much! Can we have some time to ourselves?"
Dumbledore was looking at Harry curiously. "Why are you speaking for Mr. Malfoy as well, Mr. Potter?"
Harry looked shocked. "What? I... I didn't realise I was."
"Potter... Harry, I guess I should say; was just saying what I was feeling, so I didn't feel the need to say anything. I... He..." Draco's voice ground to a halt as darkness rushed up to claim him, and with him went Harry Potter.
"Poppy!" Dumbledore yelled. "Come quickly!"
Upon entry, the mediwitch caught sight of the unconscious boys and quickly started checking them over. "What happened?!" she demanded.
"I'm afraid I'm to fault, Poppy. I gave them some information that seems to have overwhelmed them."
"What?"
"They're both at least part Veela."
"What?!" Pomfrey exclaimed. "And when were you planning to tell me, Albus?! You don't think that information would help me care for them?" As she was speaking, she had turned to a nearby shelf of books, pulled a couple of them, and looked up a couple of references. "Anything else I should know?"
"How much vampire would there have to be, to make a difference?" Dumbledore asked, tentatively. He might be the headmaster, but in the infirmay, Madam Pomfrey ruled. She wouldn't have it any other way.
The mediwitch stared at the old man in shock. "Not much. Who?"
"Mr. Potter: but only a trace."
"That rather explains the unusual eye and hair colouring. Veelas are lighter, such as Mr. Malfoy," she remarked, apropos of nothing. "Which type of vampire?"
"Noble."
Shaking herself out of her half-daze, Poppy looked up a couple of other references.
After a few minutes of casting medical check-up spells, she finally gave a verdict. "Well, it seems as though no harm has been done, but there could easily have been. And it seems that the Veela genes, if they were dormant before, have been activated - the Vampire genes, as well." She looked more directly at the old man. "Your habit of not sharing information could well have been dangerous this time, Albus. Never do that to me again."
Professor Dumbledore chose not to respond to the woman's more personal comments, choosing instead to focus on the medical information. "That - will - complicate matters. But if they're alright, then why are they still unconscious?"
Poppy knew the headmaster would heed her words; or rue it. So she let it go. "They've slipped into a deep sleep, Albus," she replied. "Probably the best thing, right now. Their subconscious minds will be able to process and handle the shock they've received."
"I take it, then, that they should not be moved, yet?"
"You take it correctly, Headmaster."

Harry and Draco revived a few hours later, but needed the rest of the day to recover fully. As might be expected with all that had happened to them, their dreams that night were vivid, wild and chaotic (with a small helping of eroticism), but their sleep was unbroken and restful.
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Light of Heaven