Nature of the Beast | By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 48976 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 5 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story. |
Thank you again for all the reviews! This is the last chapter of Nature of the Beast; my thanks for following me along this difficult trail.
Chapter Forty-One—Marriages and Mates Helena Greengrass had a taste for finery, Harry thought. She had been carefully restrained in her dealings with him, then. He had always thought she was one of the least fussy of the pure-bloods he had to negotiate with. Or maybe she thought a pure-blood’s marriage to a Muggleborn deserved gaudy decorations. The blazing black-and-gold banners draped over the trees could have been either. Draco put a hand on his back and ushered him past the trees, shaking his head. “I’m glad that the medallion I got for you isn’t those colors,” he muttered. “Even though you never wear it anyway.” “With my track record, it would get broken in the next attack against me,” Harry said dryly, and winced a little as he thought of small crystals shattering and how much he would probably step on them. Honestly, he was lucky that he hadn’t shattered the Mirror of Erised in the struggle with Quirrell. Draco gave him a wounded glance. “As though I wouldn’t protect you from any attack.” “Not if you were giving me space, and the attack happened then,” Harry pointed out, smiling a little. This would have been a deadly serious argument if it had happened in the early days of their bond, before they had adapted to each other. “Then it would be hard for you to rush back in time.” Draco started to answer, but they came out from the walk of delicately arched and intertwining trees, and the sight of the wedding decorations seemed to startle him all on its own, without the necessity of picking up anything from Harry through the bond. There were tables with glamours cast on them to make them look as if they were made of gigantic emeralds. There were golden goblets and delicate, shining plates edged with pearls. There were delicate crystalline unicorns—fake, of course, Harry decided after a minute, they were probably glamoured ponies—trotting back and forth between the tables with dishes of candied fruit on their backs, offering them to the guests. “Tell me this isn’t traditional for a pure-blood bonding,” Harry muttered to Draco. “It’s only traditional for the ones that want to make a big deal of it.” Draco looked around with a critical eye that Harry might have thought was judging the decorations for their lack of gaudiness before their bond had been completed. Then he smiled at Harry, and Harry knew from the vibration of the bond that he was just as disgusted as Harry was. “Besides, those colors wouldn’t go with my hair at all.” He spread his wings, and several people turned to gape; even a few of the glamoured ponies halted for a second in their rounds, as if they didn’t know what direction Draco was going to fly in and wanted to be prepared. Then Draco lowered them again, and the pones went back to their rounds, and some people ceased to look at them—although they still darted glances their way and muttered under their breaths. You did that on purpose, Harry accused him as they threaded their way through the tables to find Helena. You’re a hypocrite when you claim that you don’t like other people looking at me. They can look, Draco said serenely. They just can’t touch. Harry rolled his eyes again. Sometimes, he didn’t know why he bothered.* “My thanks for your congratulations,” said Helena Greengrass, before there were any, extending her hand. Draco kept a narrow eye on her as Harry shook it and said something meaningless that he could tell Draco privately later if there was any need for him to know it. It had occurred to Draco that perhaps Helena could set aside her ambitions for her daughter so easily because she was attracted to Harry herself. But there was no sign of that in the way she looked at or touched Harry, and a moment later, she steered the man leaning on her arm forwards. “This is my Howard.” He was a buttress of a Muggleborn, Draco thought, with a long dark beard and hair in which glints of red were apparent. And his magic hummed around him as though he were building up a spell at all times. It might not be obvious to Harry why she was going to marry the brute, but it was perfectly so to Draco. That much power would make sure any of their children would gain respect instead of being stigmatized as half-bloods, and it would make Howard a politically effective player, too. I know that because you know it, Harry told him gently and nodded to Howard. “I hope you’re in favor of Muggleborn integration with pure-bloods on a larger level than individual marriage, too.” “I am,” said Howard, and took a moment to study Harry before he shrugged. “I think you would have known that from the way I’m marrying Helena.” “I’ve learned not to assume, when it comes to Greengrass women,” said Harry. Draco held in his cackle, but just barely in time. He hadn’t known Harry was going to choose to say that! He extended his wing so the tip brushed across the back of Harry’s shoulders. Harry would understand the gesture and how much Draco was restraining himself, given the laughter in his head. “Well.” Howard smiled, now, as if he could understand the point of the barb. Helena might indeed have told him about Daphne and her problems with her, Draco thought, watching him. After all, he would have to be Daphne’s stepfather now, and he didn’t look like the kind of man Helena could simply drop into that situation. “Then I encourage your attitude.” He waved his hand at them in what Draco supposed could be a blessing. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Potter. And your mate.” His eyes pinned Draco. Draco smiled politely. If the man was waiting for Draco to fall on his face and apologize for his father’s actions during the war, as well as his own, he would have to wait a long time. Let’s go on, Draco. Harry took the dismissal and faded into the crowd. He took a small sandwich from a tray on a pony’s back and added, Let’s just try to enjoy the party, okay? Draco sniffed back at him. Of course I can enjoy the party. Especially since I get to show you off and remind people that they can’t touch you. Harry only sighed, when once he would have scolded Draco, and Draco counted that as enough enjoyment to be going on with.* “Changed your mind, mate?” Harry blinked and turned around. He hadn’t actually asked Ron and Hermione if they were going to be at Helena’s bonding, although he’d known they’d received an invitation. But he supposed it made sense. Hermione would be making a lot of political contacts, and Ron would be tagging along with her, making polite noises and causing people to underestimate him. “About what?” Harry asked. He moved away from the dance floor. Draco was dancing with a few elderly pure-bloods who he apparently had to satisfy, according to etiquette, but he kept glaring when anyone came too close to Harry. It didn’t bother Harry that much. He was still an indifferent dancer, and too many people thought they should get a chance to slip their hands around his waist or down his pants. Ron looked up at the arching branches of the trees instead of answering. Harry did, too. He had only realized a few minutes ago that they’d been trained into making patterns of intertwined H’s, presumably for Helena and Howard. “You’ve changed your mind about the advantages of being mated to a Veela,” said Ron, and looked back at him. Harry snorted. “Yes,” he said. “Although it’s more that I came to realize I liked it. Not that I decided on advantages.” Ron only shrugged, still grinning. “So I won’t ask for details,” he said. “Only I want to know whether you regret it for any reason.” Harry thought about that, then slowly shook his head, and not only because he knew Draco could feel any regret down the bond and would be hurt by it. I can still listen even when I’m dancing, you know. I was almost born knowing these dances. “You were right about some things,” he said. “It’s nice to know that he’ll protect me no matter what, and there’s always someone standing on my side. And it’s nice to know that he’s not interested in me for my fame.” “And that’s it?” Ron sounded disappointed, for some reason. Maybe he just really wanted me to admit he was right. Harry opened his eyes wide as he looked at Ron. “Well, I could tell you about other things that I’m grateful for,” he whispered. “But that would mean I’d have to tell you about other things that you and Draco would probably not want you to hear about—” “That’s fine, that’s fine!” Ron said hastily, jumping back with a wave of his hands. “I see what you mean. That’s fine!” Harry chuckled, but he did want to know the answer to one question of his own. “Why were you so intent on pushing the bond between me and Draco? Was it just because you didn’t want him to die? Because you were both pure-blood?” He thought that it being Draco would have made Ron more likely to oppose it, honestly. Ron was silent for a time. Harry knew better than to push him. Ron had what Harry sometimes called his “chess-playing look” on his face. He was considering a bunch of different things and deciding what he could tell. Ron finally looked back at him and said in a low voice, “Because I used to dream about it happening to me. A Veela coming and finding me and making me their own, no matter what. I even—I even thought that I wouldn’t mind if I was the submissive, because that would mean I had someone to notice me. I used to dream about it when it felt like my parents never noticed me. You know?” “Yeah,” Harry said softly. One of the first things Ron had ever said to him was about feeling like he was in the shadow of his brothers. Yes, wanting to be special made a lot of sense. “So,” said Ron, and spent a moment looking out onto the dance floor as though he was trying to remove them both from the intense embarrassment that came from having this sort of conversation. But Harry had asked, and Ron had made the offer to speak, so it continued. “I was glad to think that one of my friends would get the chance to live out that dream if I wouldn’t. I wasn’t glad that it was Malfoy, but at least it was someone.” He looked back at Harry with a suspicious mistiness in his eyes that he hastily blinked away, and which Harry pretended not to see. “So. Mate. You deserve someone who can see you as special. For the things that make you that way, I mean, instead of all the things that people think are special about you.” “I always had you and Hermione,” Harry said softly. He almost didn’t want to say it because it sounded disloyal to Hermione, but he had to. “I’m sorry you never found your Veela.” Ron looked rueful for a second, and then he grinned. “But I found someone special, who loves me a lot,” he said. “And you know that it wouldn’t have been the same with me and Hermione, if we’d got together and you’d remained outside it all, mate,” he added. “You know that. So I’m glad you found your Malfoy.” He clapped Harry on the shoulder and walked away. Harry spent a moment looking after him, and didn’t start when Draco came up behind him and wrapped him in his wings. For one thing, since they had the bond, he knew Draco was there. What did he want? To tell me why he was so intent on seeing the bond between us work. Harry leaned back and closed his eyes. I love my friends, you know. Draco nuzzled the back of his neck. As long as you don’t love them the same way you love me, I don’t have a problem with that. Harry nodded. Despite the confession Ron had given him, he never doubted that Ron and Hermione’s love was sincere. There was no reason to think that Ron would ever want to take his place in the bond, or Draco’s place, for that matter. Why wouldn’t someone want you as their mate? Harry smiled at the tone of bafflement in Draco’s voice, and only murmured, I’ll tell you later about some of the things Ron and Hermione went through that would make them devoted to each other. He turned his head as he heard cheering in the distance, near the front of the meadow that had been turned into the dance floor. I suppose that’s the actual bonding taking place? Draco arched his neck once, beat his wings a little so he could rise into the air and see, and dropped back. Harry watched him with admiration. He had sometimes envied Draco his wings, but since he would share anything he found out because of them with Harry, envy wasn’t necessary. Yes, it is. Draco held out his hand. Come on. We need to go up there, or people will talk. But you love people talking about us, said Harry demurely, letting Draco escort him with a hand on his arm nonetheless. It has to be the right kind of talk. Harry chuckled and let himself be led. He didn’t object, and it satisfied Draco. There were a lot of things like that in their bond, things one of them wasn’t wildly enthusiastic about but which worked for the other one. And Harry thought that was one reason their bond would last, when one that was constantly full of soaring ecstasy wasn’t.* “I have a gift to offer my wife as well.” Draco blinked a little. So far, the bonding had been perfectly traditional. The golden-robed wizard had spoken the right words, Greengrass and her Muggleborn had stood holding hands with intertwined bracelets clasped around their wrists and spoken the right ones back, and Greengrass had invited all the guests to a feast after the bonding. But now Howard was holding out a wrapped box, and Greengrass was turning around with an arch of her eyebrows that said, if her new bonded had planned this, he hadn’t bothered telling her. “What is the gift?” she asked, and held out her hand, open-palmed, expectant. Draco held back a snicker with effort. Greengrass might not have anticipated this, but that wouldn’t prevent her from taking the gift as it was offered. “That would be telling,” said Howard, and nodded towards the box as he laid it on her palm. “Open it.” Greengrass promptly did, tweaking open the ribbon with an easy twitch of her fingers and dropping it to the ground. The paper seemed tougher, but only until she took out her wand and seared through it. Inside lay what Draco thought at first was fairly ordinary jewelry, a pendant shaped like a holly branch with three berries, although made in gold. And then he saw the way it unhinged, and that a potion slipped and glittered inside. Greengrass went still when she saw it. Then she tilted her head back, and Draco blinked again. He hadn’t thought he would get to see her face ever filled with surprise and delight. “You brewed it,” she whispered. Howard nodded solemnly. “Any questions you want me to answer, any time you want me to answer them.” Veritaserum, Draco realized abruptly, and felt Harry murmur in surprise beside him. Draco thought they probably had different reasons for being surprised, though. Harry would simply wonder why Howard would want Greengrass to question him under Veritaserum, ever. Draco knew the impact of that gift, the meaning. Howard and Greengrass hadn’t known each other as well before marriage as they might like, and Greengrass had asked for a means of knowing more and making sure it was the truth. And Howard had just given her that means. That is a little strange, Harry said, indignantly, into the back of his mind. Why does she get to question him and he doesn’t get to question her? It’s possible that it will work both ways, but they wouldn’t be so foolish as to announce that in public, Draco pointed out as Greengrass snapped the pendant closed and fastened it around her neck. That would infuriate the pure-bloods, if they thought that a pure-blood was under a Muggleborn’s control. Harry sighed and shook his head a little, his eyes on the bonded pair as they turned and faced the officiating wizard. Then nothing really changes? They just hold this bonding as a sort of empty gesture, and the rest of the pure-bloods go on pretending that it’s not a significant announcement? Some things have already changed by this wedding, Draco reminded him. Some symbolic things. The rest of the changes will be political, and it’s not surprising that Greengrass would want to hide them for a while. It’s strange that you call her by her last name. It’s strange that I can stand here calmly at all when she wanted to grab you for her daughter. Harry snorted into outright laughter at that, but luckily, it didn’t cause a disruption to the ceremony. Greengrass and Howard were really already done, and had turned away to walk down the middle of the pathway under the arched tree branches, with her hand resting lightly on his arm. Draco applauded politely, and Harry joined in a second later. I’m glad that we can unite the symbolic and the political meanings, said Harry, his hand rising to catch Draco’s elbow. Yes, Draco agreed, and then felt Harry go still. He followed his gaze, and realized that Harry was staring down the pathway at someone who had just entered at the opposite end. Draco felt his heart start beating a little faster when he saw who it was. Mother.* Harry remained lightly balanced on his toes, ready to move, as Narcissa came up to him. He didn’t think she would attack him in the middle of a public gathering like this, but she might do something more subtle. And she had surprised him before. Narcissa paused, said, “I was invited, but I was late due to my choice of a perfect gift taking some time,” and stared at Harry. Harry stared back, not knowing what she really wanted. It wasn’t as though she could read his mind with a glance, the way Draco could. Then Narcissa sighed, relaxation seeming to rumble all through her frame, and whispered, “I watched the ceremony from a distance. Your—there was greater peace and happiness in your expressions than in theirs.” Harry was tempted to say, No shit, because we aren’t people who only got together thinking about the political scene, but Draco nudged him in the side with his elbow and said, I think this is a peace offering. “You believe I’m happy, then, Mother?” Draco asked gently. Narcissa’s breath wavered, but she met his eyes and nodded. Then she turned to Harry and, grimacing a little, reached out one hand. Harry took it and bowed over it. He felt as though he was holding an egg in his hand and trying to keep it from crushing it, but Narcissa moved away from him and the fragile tension eased a bit. “You might think about the location of your own formal ceremony,” she said, before turning to speak to a woman she apparently knew. Harry blinked and looked at Draco. Did you want a separate formal ceremony to celebrate our bonding? Draco was watching Narcissa, and took some time to respond. But then he said, That’s less important to me than the fact that I can now have my mother at it. His wing tightened around Harry, and he turned to look at him. Harry looked back, breathless, rejoicing in the open, loving expression on Draco’s face, and stretched up to kiss him. It didn’t matter if people were watching. What they might think. Whether they would get upset. Whether they would approve or laugh. What mattered was the look on Draco’s face as he kissed back, and the silvery shadow his wings cast, trembling, shining. The End.*SP777: They would stand a chance of growing bored more quickly if all the experiences were the same.
Meechypoo: Thanks! That’s a certain path for Draco, yes.
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