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Nature of the Beast	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 48976 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 5
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Chapter Thirty-Eight—Minds and Mindlinks
            “I want to try something,” Draco said, almost as soon as they were through the front door of Malfoy Manor. He turned to face Harry and leaned a hand on his shoulder. Harry met his eyes and nodded.
            Can you tell what I’m thinking when I reach out to you like this?
            Harry struggled not to blink. The thought was in his mind like something he had temporarily forgotten and then been reminded of, not exactly like a voice he heard. He supposed that would lessen the chance he’d mistake it for something Draco said aloud.
            “Yes, I can,” he said, and Draco clasped both hands and shook them back and forth like a child playing a game.
            “No, Harry, not like that,” he said. “Reach out to me in your head. I want to know what it feels like.”
            “It doesn’t feel that different,” Harry started to say, but stopped when he caught sight of the intense way Draco’s eyes were shining. For some reason, this really mattered to him, maybe because so few things about their bond had been usual, maybe just because it was different from what they had experienced so far.
            Yes, I think so, Harry managed, after some moments of flailing around and groping for a bond that wasn’t there. Harry finally hit on the notion of thinking of it as a silken ribbon of light connecting them when he remembered what Aloren had said about their bond being “tattered,” and then it was there as if it had been all along, filling his mind with sweet, tingling warmth, like a numb foot starting back to life.
            Draco’s eyes widened, and he stood so still for a second that Harry added, Are you okay?
            Draco leaped into the air, bearing Harry with him suddenly, his hands under Harry’s arms and his wings beating as if they were powered by a spell. Harry only had time for a gasp before Draco spun him around so that Harry’s back was to Draco’s chest and Draco was nuzzling his face and neck insistently.
            Yes, Draco breathed. God, I have to fly you around and show everyone how proud I am.
            There’s no one here except your mum, Harry tried to protest, but Draco didn’t seem inclined to listen to his voice now that Harry was having less trouble reaching him. He flapped his wings hard instead, and they zoomed around the entrance hall, then up the stairs. Harry was panting. It was probably just about as fast as he could have flown it on a broom, but this time, he wasn’t doing it under his own power.
            And it was…oddly wonderful, for all that Draco’s wrists were starting to dig painfully into his armpits. There was a lovely sensation of warmth each time the wings descended so that they more or less surrounded Harry, and a roaring waterfall of magic around him that he’d never had on a broom.
            She’s the one I want to show, Draco told him, and darted through a high, arched doorway into a room Harry hadn’t been in before. They’d covered so much ground that they could have been on the third or fourth floor for all Harry knew.
            This appeared to be a combination of library and sitting room, and maybe something else. Harry caught a dizzying glimpse of small, round tables, and chairs scattered in comfortable groups, and free-standing shelves of books, and a triangular pattern of runes etched into the floor that joined with another triangle to form a star shape. In a large blue chair near the largest shelf of books sat Narcissa, paging through one of them with a frown.
            Look, Draco said, spinning around, and then seemed to realize that he hadn’t spoken aloud at the same moment as his mother raised her head. “Look!” he called instead.
            Narcissa glanced up, and Harry felt the rush of emotions through Draco’s mind. He was reading and understanding Narcissa’s expressions much better than Harry could have; he was all glinting strength and smugness and relief. Narcissa’s face went flat a second later, and Harry wondered, Did she really feel so chagrined about us?
            She never thought she could be wrong, Draco told him. She was resigned to accepting you because I had, but she still thought Camilla would make me a better mate. “Even though,” he continued aloud, “I could never have found as much satisfaction in speaking into Camilla’s mind as I do Harry’s.”
            Narcissa folded her hands in the middle of her lap and tried to look prim. You shouldn’t have said that about Camilla, Harry told Draco as Draco came in for a landing in the middle of the room. You’ve just made her more resistant to hearing anything we say.
            You still don’t know her as well as I do. Look at that tension around her eyes, her mouth. That wasn’t there a minute ago.
            Harry refrained from rolling his eyes. Whatever you say.
            Draco turned to grin at him as he set Harry on his feet, and smoothed his nose across Harry’s hair as if it was feathers he was grooming. So pleased that you’ve finally learned how to obey me.
            Harry was still opening his mouth when Draco turned back to his mother and bowed low with a little flourish, his hand clasped in Harry’s. “We’ve achieved the telepathic part of the bond, Mother,” he said. “I seem to remember you having particular doubts on the subject at one time.”
            Harry wanted to ask what that meant, but Narcissa was rising to her feet and looking them over with a leisurely appraisal that made Harry glad he was in touch with Draco’s mind. He would have thought it pure malice otherwise, without any of the saving uncertainty that Draco insisted was there.
            “Well,” Narcissa finally said, after long moments of a silence so deep that Harry was flinching defensively before it hit home that her words weren’t that hostile, “it appears you have. Perhaps I was wrong about Camilla.” She looked at Draco, and offered him a small, serene smile. “But not about the kind of mate that would make you happy.”
            Draco’s hand tightened on Harry’s, and he extended a wing along the back of Harry’s shoulder. “What are you talking about, Mother?” he asked, and added into Harry’s head, I should have known. She always wants to win. And she always thinks she’s right when she’s protecting me.
            Let’s go away and give her time to cool down, then.
            “You still needed a mate submissive enough to speak into your mind and let you control the bond.” Narcissa wrapped one hand around the other one. Harry did notice that her knuckles were white. “Telepathic communication can only be achieved between a dominant and a submissive who fit into the traditional roles. Perhaps Mr. Potter is not as yielding to you as Camilla would be—”
            “Thank Merlin.”
            Narcissa took no notice of the interruption, focusing on Harry with a pleasant smile instead. “But he does have to have taken up aspects of the traditional submissive role if he was able to achieve communication with you.”
            Harry clenched his fists and said, “If you mean being able to be polite, and love Draco, then yeah, I have.”
            Draco had already opened his mouth to say something, but he went silent and blinked at Harry. Harry shrugged back at him, facing Narcissa once more. Her mouth had started to draw down, and Harry had the impression that that might not have been what she wanted to hear.
            “Submissive doesn’t mean what you think it means,” Harry said. “Maybe you think it does because the only submissives you knew were people like Camilla, who need permission to breathe. But it’s different than that. We’re different than that.” He paused, took a deep breath, and said something that had been lurking in the back of his mind. “Stop it, will you? It’s hurting your son.”
            Harry, Draco said into the back of his mind, where Harry’s complaint had been, in a caressing tone.
            I’m sorry if you don’t like me saying that, Draco, but it’s true. Harry took a long, aggressive step forwards. Narcissa seemed to have given up on getting any expression other than surprise to appear on her face. “Leave him alone,” Harry whispered. “At least. Or support him. You ought to be able to see when he’s happy and support him at least that much. Unless you care more about your ambitions and having your own way than about him.”
            Draco was making the oddest sound behind him, sort of like the silvery croon he had made before when he and Harry were working on the bond, but also deeper. His hands were sliding up and down Harry’s back, working under his clothes. Or maybe they were already there. It was a little hard for Harry to tell with the blazing pulse that seemed to be beating in and out of his head and eyes.
            Still, it was a long, long time, or seemed like it, before Narcissa bowed. “My regrets, Mr. Potter. Of course. Perhaps you have been a better mate for Draco than I thought.”
            Harry barely had time to nod in response to those words before Draco scooped him off the floor. Harry yelped a little and clung to the back of his neck as Draco’s wings beat urgently around them. Draco? Where are we going?
            Bed, said Draco, and off they flew. Harry felt a little embarrassed knowing Narcissa was down there, watching them, and might know exactly where they were going.
            But the colored pulse was back, and Draco was crooning into his ear, relentlessly, while his words poured down the bond like a stream.
            Do you have any idea how much it pleases me when you stand up for me? And that you’re even willing to claim the title of submissive when my mother tries to throw it in your face?
            Harry tilted his head back and tried to watch Draco’s expression, hard as it was when he was hanging down underneath him—and maybe as pointless as it was when he could feel everything Draco was feeling down the bond, anyway. I only said that because I have an entirely different meaning for it. It’s not like I agreed that she was right.
            But you still claimed it. You did it to defend me. Draco made the sharp silvery sound again, and rubbed his face against the back of Harry’s neck. You love me.
            Harry hadn’t put that word to it before. But it was hard, with the emotions vaulting all around him, not to recognize them. Or not to recognize something of his own in them. If what Draco felt was love, then so was what Harry felt.
            He swallowed. Yeah.
            Draco’s wings blurred around them, and Draco swept further on and up, towards the distant bed.
*
            Draco laid Harry on the bed in his rooms and then stepped carefully back, spreading his wings and turning as he stripped his shirt off. Harry gave him a confused look. He had probably thought Draco would simply crawl onto the bed and start having his way with him.
            But as far as Draco was concerned, this was the last few moments of their courtship. He wasn’t going to waste them. He wanted to show off to his mate, the way he hadn’t got much chance to do in the past.
            And Harry’s mouth was falling slowly open as he watched Draco turning, his wings regularly beating, making the strong muscles shift under the skin of his back. Draco tilted his head, feeling both his mate’s gaze like a warm caress on the muscles of his shoulders and Harry’s soft tumbling emotions.
            All that strength is for you, he told Harry. All for you, to attack or defend as you command, to protect you, to fly you around for the rest of your life. You never have to take another step on the floor again if that’s what you want.
            Harry’s response down the bond was incoherent, the telepathic equivalent of a mumble, but Draco didn’t mind. He spread his wings more, raised and lowered them, and wasn’t surprised, when he raised them again, to find that they shone with a silvery light. That hadn’t happened to him often before, but when he was courting his mate, it was only right that it should happen and make him all the more beautiful.
            He swung around again to face Harry, and tilted his head back so that Harry could watch the fall of his hair. It shines, doesn’t it? he purred down the bond, and if he was fishing for compliments, so be it. He hadn’t got as many of them as he would have out of a typical mating bond.
            It does, said Harry, and the emotions that rampaged out from him made Draco flutter his wings until his heart leaped and ached. There was enthusiasm there, and admiration, and something deeper than either.
            He began to hum under his breath, and then sing. Veela were known for screeching, but that was because most people saw them in their half-changed forms only in public, not in private with their mates. They could sing, too.
            And he did now, his voice filling the room with what he knew were rises and falls of liquid cadences. Harry was entranced as he stood there listening, and Draco lowered his voice, made it deeper.
            This is all for you, he said, and then he reached down and drew off his trousers. It was even easier than usual, when he was hovering halfway off the ground.
            Harry let his eyes dip for a moment down to Draco’s pants and cock. They lingered there for what Draco happily judged an appropriate amount of time before they rose wonderingly back to Draco’s face, and Harry got off the bed and came forwards with one hand reaching out. Draco caught Harry’s hand and nibbled at his fingers, turning his head back and forth to do so.
            Come on, said Harry. Let me… And Draco stepped back and waited for Harry to move, because he was curious to see what he would do.
            Harry knelt down and rubbed his face for a moment against Draco’s cock. That made Draco freeze and forget about displaying. He had actually stopped the breath in his lungs, and it wasn’t until Harry reached up and tapped him on the chest in concern that he let it go again.
            “Come on,” Harry whispered aloud. “Were you only displaying things I can look at but can’t touch? Or can I?” And his hand reached out and closed on Draco.
            Draco tossed his head back, fluttering his wings, drunk on the sensations of displaying for Harry, drunk on power, drunk on the fact that he would have his mate here for him now no matter what happened and he wanted Harry to touch him all over his body. He managed to gain control of himself when he would have exploded in an embarrassing way and reached down, drawing Harry to his feet as he kissed him.
            “Not like that,” he said, and although it was hard for him to put into words what he wanted even with the bond between them, Harry caught on and gave him a shining smile, standing up and reaching for the bottom of his own shirt.
            Draco watched him strip with such attentive eyes that he didn’t think he blinked once during it. He saw Harry’s collarbones and wild hair and scars and muscles with a dreamy feeling of contentment. Is that for me? All for me?
            All for you, Harry shot back, amusement humming in his eyes and mental “voice,” and Draco stepped forwards and traced one fingertip over Harry’s collarbone just to see him shudder.
            Harry hissed and pulled Draco in to him, making him not only stumble but have to flutter his wings to catch his balance, and kissed him hard enough to make other thoughts desert Draco’s mind. There was a time to display for his mate, and a time to simply take him to the bed. He did that now, slipping his hands beneath Harry’s armpits again and scooping him up, moving him before Harry could protest.
            Not that Harry wanted to protest, from the look of things. He simply sprawled back on the bed and lifted his legs and arse so that Draco could see the heavy outline of his cock against his pants.
            Draco spread his wings and made a bubbling sound that he couldn’t even dignify by the name of croon. It was just there and wanted to come out of his throat, so that was what came.
            “Yeah, I thought so, too,” Harry said, grinning, and whipped his pants off, then reached for Draco’s.
            Draco knew he was the one, technically, who was supposed to be in charge. The dominant Veela always was, not least because Veela often mated so young that the submissive would be a virgin.
            But Harry was moving with quiet confidence as he put a pillow underneath his own arse, and stroked Draco’s wings—which sent disorienting flashes of heat through Draco’s chest and neck—and arranged himself on the bed with lube. It was only when he actually reached for his own arse with sticky fingers that Draco decided he had to do something.
            I want to prepare you, he sent down the bond to Harry, and tried to ignore the sheer whiny tone of it. Yes, perhaps it was whiny, but it was still true. And from the way Harry paused and gave him a thoughtful glance, perhaps acting like a brat was sometimes an advantage.
            All right, Harry said, with a little fillip of permissive yellow that would have been impossible in out-loud communication, and handed the bottle of lube to Draco.
            I didn’t even see you get this, Draco said, as he took it. He must have been disoriented not to notice Harry moving away from him to the bathroom, the most likely source.
            I summoned a house-elf to get it while you were sitting there purring with your eyes shut.
            I was not—
            The amusement that flooded the bond at that was enough to tell Draco he wasn’t going to win this argument. So he leaned forwards and coated his fingers with lube and used them in the way that he knew Harry would have used them if Draco hadn’t intervened.
            Harry did tense up and take a few harsh breaths immediately after Draco’s fingers entered him, but he rolled his eyes when Draco hesitated. If I was going to want you to sop, don’t you think you would have felt that, down the bond?
            Draco had to admit that made sense. He slid his fingers in further, and spread them apart, and Harry spread his legs in response. Draco blinked slowly, his wings fanning up and down. He had dreamed of this moment, and now he found that he couldn’t take his eyes off his own fingers. He couldn’t even define the feelings, the sensations, that rocketed up and down between his lungs and his heart.
            I can. Impatience. Get on with it!
            Draco snorted and spread his fingers further, reflecting that the mental bond had as many advantages as disadvantages. And the other way around, of course.
*
            Draco not wanting to hurt him was very sweet. It was the opposite of what Harry had once expected, when Ron was first telling him about the submissive’s duty to bond with the dominant. He had thought Draco would just take what he wanted, not caring about any pain he might cause, and Harry would have to put up with it to make sure Draco didn’t die.
            But Draco had reassured him that Veela knew how to give pleasure to their mates, and Harry was dying for some of that right now. The bond ought to have told Draco that, Harry thought grumpily, and writhed around Draco’s fingers for a time until Draco looked him in the eye. Then he nodded, and Draco fluttered into position and actually kept himself hovering there as he slid inside.
            He flopped to the bed a second later.
            So did Harry. He had known what it would be like, of course, or assumed, but the feeling of someone inside him was still overwhelming. He sucked in air, and reached down, and felt Draco’s hand close around his.
            Then Draco crooned, and fulfilled his promise.
            The pleasure struck Harry like silvery lightning. He flung his mouth open in a soundless scream as his head tilted back and the pleasure followed, filling every crevice of his being, seeking him out, not letting him get away.
            Draco chuckled—something Harry only knew because it came down the bond, since it was as soundless as Harry’s scream had been—and pressed achingly forwards. Harry knew he was inside him, and welcomed him, and wanted more. He tugged on Draco’s hands, and Draco obliged, dipping his wings to brush Harry’s ribs and collarbone at the same moment as he began to thrust.
            God.
            Harry was just never going to surface again, that was all there was to it. The pleasure was extreme enough to make him forget his own name. His head rang and shuddered with it. He reached out and took Draco’s fingers, and Draco kissed him on the back of the hand and set off more explosions in his chest and head and ears.
            Harry clawed for a moment at Draco’s shoulders, and Draco drew back with an amused chirp and let him do it. It made new bursts start in Harry’s fingers and radiate up to his own shoulders, and he threw his head back and cried out as he felt a new fire gathering low in his belly. He knew what that meant.
            “Come on.” Come on.
            The voices mingled and wrapped around him, the bond adding its own weight to the mixture, and Harry came hard enough to tighten all his muscles and make him fall back on the pillow with a loud grunt. Draco was with him all the way, the bond inside Harry’s thoughts and his wings brushing Harry’s ribs and flanks and adding small, new tingles just when Harry had thought he was beyond being subjected to more pleasure. He fell from a height that made hitting the bottom more like a crash landing, but he didn’t mind. It still let him roll his head to the side, dazed with how good he felt, and watch as Draco’s orgasm finished with a convulsive fluttering of his eyes and wings.
            Draco tried to catch himself first with the tips of his wings instead of his arms or fingers, as if he had forgotten that he was something other than a bird. He caught the mistake before he bent any feathers, luckily. Harry gave a tired chuckle as Draco wrapped his arms securely around him. Draco nuzzled into his neck and said something sleepy that Harry couldn’t make out.
            It didn’t matter, not when he had the bond to repeat the words.
            You’re mine. You’re mine. I’m so happy. You’re mine.
            Harry gently touched Draco’s head and ruffled his hair for a minute. Then he moved him over to the side, so they could sleep more comfortably. He was the one who guided Draco out of his body, and cast the spells to clean up, and soothed Draco’s discontented murmurs.
            And he was the one who kissed Draco’s neck and closed his eyes with his body shuddering in exquisite aftershocks.
            Merlin. That was something.
            Draco stirred once as Harry rolled away to put his wand down on the table next to the bed, and Harry rolled back and wrapped his arms around him again. Hush. I’m yours. You’re mine. I’m here.
            Draco had a hold on him as strong as a bird would probably have on its perch. Harry really didn’t mind that, either.
*
Meechypoo: Well, it will be more than just a brief moment now.
Ciara_D: Thank you!
SP777: It pretty much already has, although not in the traditional sense.
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Nature of the Beast