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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
- 5
- 6
- 7
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 6
Dumbledore arrived shortly after six pm, with Professors McGonagall and Snape in tow. Harry sighed. He knew that he couldn't afford to get behind in his studies, but the break had been nice.
"Hello, Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy. Everything working out alright?"
Silence. A quite awkward one, this time. How do you tell your headmaster and two of your teachers just how well you're getting along? Let's just take a jog down this alley here, shall we? "Ah, we're - surviving each other, headmaster," Harry offered.
'Damn! Dumbledore's eyes are twinkling! Does he suspect?' Draco thought.
'Always a bad sign, when the old man's eyes start twinkling,' Harry thought. 'It means he's planning something, or knows something.'
"Good! Then we need to get your classes sorted out!" the Headmaster exclaimed. "You'll both need to be taking Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Medical Magic and Transfigurations. You can also take one of the following: Divination, Care and Feeding of Magical Creatures, Herbology or Arithmancy. Or we could offer you Animagus training." He'd thrown that last in there as though it almost wasn't worth the trouble of mentioning; as though it were nothing.
"Arith...What did you say?!" Draco almost shouted. "Animagus training, of course! Right, Potter?" His eyes said 'You'd better say yes, if you know what's good for your ass.'
Draco's enthusiasm was so out of character for him, that Harry couldn't help teasing a bit. "Well, I was looking forward to Divination, again."
"Potter, you had best be joking," Draco said in a low, threatening growl.
Harry laughed, pleased with his success in baiting the other boy. "Of course I'm joking! Who'd pass up a chance at learning how to be an animagus?! And you'd have known I was joking, if you'd just checked our link," Harry continued, chuckling.
Draco just glared, trying to be angry, but he was rather caught up in Harry's infectious humour, and just a bit embarrassed to have been caught out so easily.
After some bit of discussion and haggling between the five of them, a new timetable was worked out. Professor McGonagall would teach the animagus class, of course..
During this discourse, Draco finally worked in the question that had been niggling at him. "Professor Snape: I've been told that you have been kept ignorant of the means of entering these rooms. As you are my House Master, and Professor McGonagall, the House Mistress of - Gryffindor - is privy to that information, I find myself rather incensed that this is so. I am also told that you have willingly submitted to this outrage. Is this so?"
"You really do know how to sound the total prat, don't you, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape replied.
To both boys surprise, there was just a hint of a smile on his face. Draco coloured a little, but managed to maintain an air of dignity and superiority. He also kept silent, awaiting an answer to his question.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, it's true. It is possible, given my associations," Draco gave a small start at that, not expecting his professor to come that close to admitting his association with Death Eaters, but Snape gave no notice, and continued, "that I could be forced to disclose your location and help those who would be a danger to you - and Mr. Potter, of course," he added reluctantly, "to gain access to you. In fact, for that very reason, I have insisted that I be subjected to 'Obliviate' after this meeting, to remove all knowledge of this place from my mind."
On hearing that, Snape went up several notches in Harry's estimation. He might be an obnoxious, opinionated, sour,... Well, enough of that. Harry could go on for an hour in that vein. The point was, he was also brave and honourable.
"I understand, Professor. And thank you," Draco said. "I take it you won't be coming back, then?"
"No. Homework, materials and finished potions can be taken back and forth by house elves. There should be no other reason for a return visit, and would just prove a danger for us both."
Draco just nodded.
Dumbledore stepped into what could have become a very uncomfortable silence. "With your genes, it should prove quite interesting to see what kind of animagi you turn out to be," Dumbledore remarked, addressing both young men. "You won't be able to start that training until after your sixteenth birthdays, and you've settled into your new abilities, of course."
"Why 'of course', Headmaster?" inquired Draco, stiffly.
"Until you have your new abilities under control, they might not mix well with other magics," the old man replied. "The house elves will bring your backlogged schoolwork to you tonight, so you can start catching up, and will take your completed work to your teachers. This will continue until such time as you can rejoin your classmates without danger to them or yourselves."
"You've told us that we'd find the presence of others difficult to handle, Headmaster, and I must admit to a headache just now, but why would we be a danger to them?" Harry asked.
"Psychic discomfort isn't the only danger you'd be in from your peers - or anyone else who was in your vicinity, Mr. Potter. Or yours, Mr. Malfoy."
'Why does my name always come second when he addresses us?' Draco wondered, with a trace of resentment.
"You will be emitting large clouds of pheromones to attract your mate," Harry and Draco exchanged embarrassed, surreptitious glances. "which will, I'm afraid, incite more people than not to want to be sexually active with you - up to, and including, rape. Your instinctual responses would probably protect you, but would probably also mean harm to those driven temporarily mad by lust."
"Really, Albus! Was that absolutely necessary? You couldn't have been a bit more - delicate?" the Transfigurations professor remonstrated.
"Reality must intrude, Minerva," Dumbledore replied. Then, addressing the mortified young men before him again, he said "This is why you must stay in these rooms until your bond is consummated. The house elves are immune, so providing for food, laundry, etcetera, will be no problem. Even if there were a problem with the house elves, we could provide meals in the same manner they are provided in the Great Hall."
At the mention of house elves, Harry was able to pull himself together enough to inform the silver-haired man before him "Sir, I have requested that Dobby replace Jinkies as our house elf. I know him and consider him a friend, so would prefer him to another. Dobby tells me that he can do so without making Jinkies feel inadequate or dishonoured, or I would not have insisted on it."
"Very thoughtful of you, Mr. Potter. I suppose that might be allowed." Dumbledore's eyes were a lot sharper than his voice, as he said that. He hadn't been fooled at all.
"On to more important subjects: There are a few books, which we've put in the bookcase here, which you both should read, and the sooner the better. They detail what is known about the type of pairing you two will be going through. But I must say" Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling madly, "that you two are breaking records for a most unusual bonding. Most part-Veela bondings, even as rare as part-Veelas are, are with a human. That there are two of you, and that you have, albeit not consciously, chosen each other... Not to mention the Power Partner incident..." He was almost grinning.

By bedtime they were able to be apart for anywhere from five to ten seconds at a time; a vast improvement, making getting ready for bed much easier.
Harry didn't wear the tops of his cheap cotton pyjamas. They had a tendency to twist and bind during his sleep, so he'd long ago stopped wearing them; which meant that there was a lot of skin for Draco's silk pyjama tops to brush against. Eventually, tentatively, Harry started petting Draco's back, enjoying the sensuous feel of the silk over the blond's firm, muscular back. Draco, for his part, hadn't been, and wasn't, feeling all that confident in the situation, either. Their earlier sex session had been completely spur of the moment, brought on by unbridled lust, with no thought involved. This was...different. This time, both knew of the possibility, indeed, the likelihood, of sex, but were entirely unsure of the reactions of the other. Neither was experienced, neither knew what to do or how to do it, or what the other might like or dislike. It didn't help that both had a tendency to over-think situations, given the chance to do so. So when Harry started rubbing Draco's back, Draco was relieved that the first step had been accomplished - contact had been made. Draco turned over, scooted a bit closer, and put his hand on Harry's chest. They just lay there like that for a minute, then Draco slid his hand down Harry's side, and when that was accepted, put his arm around his new bed-mate.
Without seeming will, their lips moved closer together, touched, and clung, softly, tentatively. When rejection wasn't forthcoming, they became more confident, lips met more firmly, tongues made tentative swipes at the other's lips, then gently slipped inside each other's mouth. As their passions roused, their hands moved more freely, exploring each other's body. Tongues got more aggressive; wrestling, searching out secret places. Harry broke off just long enough to unbutton and remove Draco's pyjama top, then his lips, teeth, and tongue began exploring Draco's ear, neck and shoulders. His hands moved freely over the Slytherin's pale skin, paying particular attention to the small, pink, yet evidently very sensitive nipples poised on his smoothly-muscled chest.
As Harry kissed the silvery-eyed boy, he had rubbed a thumb over one delicate nipple. Draco caught his breath, arching his back to meet the touch. This broke the kiss, but Harry just moved his attentions to the now-exposed neck as he continued his ministrations to the sensitive nub of flesh. Harry was surprised. He'd never thought that a male's nipples could be a source of pleasure, but judging from the reactions he was getting, that was surely the case. Since he was already at Draco's neck, and curious about this new phenomenon, he let his lips drift downward, kissing and licking Draco's throat, then chest, until he arrived at his destination. He let his tongue lick over his ex-rival's now-erect nipple. Draco's hand suddenly pressing his head to the spot, let him know he should continue. He did.
Harry's hands hadn't been idle during all this, either. He'd run them through Draco's fine hair, explored the contours of the blond's head, cheekbones, jaw, and ears, then across his shoulders, chest and stomach, then back again. Now, with his head on Draco's chest, his hands slowly slipped downward, to hips, round, firm buttocks, thighs, then slowly back up the legs to their joining, and moving his lips back to Draco's at the same time. As the side of his hand met the point where he couldn't move it any higher, in contact with Draco's now-hidden jewels, but not yet irrevocably committed to the next step, he stopped and rested it there, waiting for a reaction.
Draco's thoughts were chaotic, 'Harry's lips... Gods, Harry's lips; so soft, wet, electric. Mmmm... And oh, what his hands are doing to me. What are you doing? Why are you stopping?' Draco bucked his hips - just a fraction of an inch, but it gave permission - indeed, demanded more.
Sensing this, Harry allowed his hand to slide up the last couple of inches of Draco's thigh, then over his silk-covered hardness. Draco pushed himself into Harry's hand. Harry slid his hand up and down the other boy's twitching hardness a couple of times, then gave it a gentle squeeze.
Draco arched into the grip, groaning. A few other boys in the Slytherin dorms had experimented with mutual masturbation, and even group masturbation, but Draco had held himself above that, considering it beneath him. But now he wanted this - wanted to return the feelings he was getting. He threw himself at Harry, lips too violently colliding, bruising, teeth drawing just a taste of blood, but neither caring at the moment. Draco's hand leapt for Harry's groin, but even in his lustful enthusiasm he was worried about hurting. He didn't want to do anything to ruin this - to stop it. His voice throaty with passion, he asked "Is this okay?" His other meanings came through in the tones of his voice.
"Yes," Harry said breathlessly, before again seeking the blond's lips. And then it wasn't enough. He wanted to feel skin; more skin against his own; skin in his hands. Releasing his grip, he fumbled with the buttons on Draco's silk pyjamas; then, frustrated that he wasn't immediately successful, tore them open. He felt Draco doing something similar to him. Finally, rid of the cloth barriers, they again pressed their bodies together, their hands finding their targets between them; exploring, kneading, experiencing - then exploding at almost the same moment. Exhausted, they fell asleep within seconds.

Harry was following a scent; a scent that resembled a mix of cinnamon, clove, and patchouli; the scent of his mate. It filled his nostrils, his head, his whole being. Once found, he would court his mate until he was accepted, then they would physically mate, the completion of which would bond them irrevocably, making them mates for life. Ah! There was his mate!

Harry woke up with that same scent filling the room, the source extremely close. His searching nose and eyes found it. Draco? As he gazed fondly upon the beautiful young man beside him, his dream came flooding back. The world started swimming, and then it went black.
Something cold and wet splashed in his face. Draco was leaning over him, looking concerned. It didn't add up. Draco? Concerned about him? "Wha' happen'?" Harry muttered. Then he caught that bewitching scent again. He reached for the blond. "Mm... You smell great. Sexy." His arms wrapped around the concerned young man. Draco didn't respond, but didn't try to get away.
"You're delirious, Harry," Draco accused.
"Mm-mm. Don't think so. Kiss me?"
Draco hesitated, then did so, before pulling back a bit. "You were unconscious, Harry. I couldn't get you to wake up! I think we should call Pomfrey."
"'M okay. What's that cologne you're wearing?"
Draco's face twisted in confusion. "I'm not wearing cologne." Then he giggled. "I'm not wearing anything, right now."
Sliding his hand down to Draco's naked flank, Harry confirmed that. "Nice arse."
Draco tinted slightly, but was oddly pleased that Harry appreciated his body. But why should it be so odd? He was proud of his body. Oh. They had that mating thing hanging over their heads. A 'have to' rather than a 'let it happen as it will'. That put a strain on things. But he wasn't going to think about that yet, or be put off by compliments. "You seem - different, this morning, Harry."
Harry screwed up his face in thought. "I had a strange dream, last night. I was following a scent. Your scent."
Draco was a little offended. "We haven't had a chance to clean up yet, this morning! Don't blame me if I'm a little whiff."
"No, you don't understand, Draco! 'S nice! Wonderful scent." He sent what he meant over their link to him.
Draco paled a bit "Oh, gods, Harry."
The tone of voice yanked Harry out of the dreamy state he'd been in. "What?"
"I've read about this." Draco's voice was trembling a bit. He wasn't exactly afraid, but 'nervous' seemed a bit tame to describe his state. "Your birthday is really soon, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is. Just one more week. Why? And what's got you so upset?" Harry asked, reaching surreptitiously for his wand. If something was threatening his Draco, he was going to take care of it.
"Remember our lesson on Veelas in 'Care and Feeding of Magical Creatures'?"
Harry realised that there probably was no outside threat, so put his wand back down, hoping Draco hadn't noticed him retrieving it. He concentrated. "I think I was in the infirmary that day. Sick."
"Oh. You haven't made up the assignment yet? That was weeks ago!" Draco's tone of voice sounded almost exactly like the distaff portion of the "The Golden Trio" when she remonstrated with Ron and him about keeping their grades up.
"Okay, Hermione, where's my boyfriend, and why did you take polyjuice to take his place?" Harry teased.
"This isn't funny, Harry!" Draco protested. "Anyway, Hagrid mentioned that part-Veelas find
their potential mate by scent, and get very protective."
"You actually paid attention to Hagrid? What's the world coming to?" It was just a stalling tactic while he absorbed and dealt with this new information. "But it's not my birthday, yet," Harry said, taking the first step in dealing with what Draco was telling him.
Draco shook his head. "That's only when you come into your full inheritance. Part of it starts before then. This scent thing must be a part of it. And what do you mean, 'boyfriend'?"
"Bit slow on the uptake, Draco?" Harry grinned "What else would you call us? But as for the
part-Veela thing; won't the same thing happen to you?"
Draco decided to ignore the tease and the boyfriend issue, for now, and answered the second question. "Probably," Draco whispered. "But my birthday is weeks after yours." Then in a more normal tone of voice, and catching Harry's eyes, he asked, "Do you think you can hold off until then?" He looked a little scared, although he hid most of it.
"I'll have to," Harry said, looking deep into Draco's eyes. "I won't force you; I can't. I just... I guess I just want to protect you."
Draco leaned his forehead against Harry's, relieved. "That's good. What I don't understand is why you were unconscious when I woke up."
Harry related the morning's brief events to him.
"I still think you should see Pomfrey, Harry. I'll worry about you if you don't." It was manipulative, but he was a Slytherin, and he was concerned.
Harry sighed, but somehow he didn't want to make the blond young man uncomfortable. "Okay. After we shower and eat, okay? Or would you rather have another bath?"
"A shower would be faster, and I'm hungry," Draco replied.
As they were adjusting the water temperature in the shower, Harry decided to give Draco a surprise. He suddenly wanted to look nicer for his new boyfriend. "Just a second, Draco, I forgot something." He knew he only had a few seconds before he'd be needing contact again, so he ran into their bedroom ('Strange, how it's become our bedroom so soon,' Harry thought) grabbed his wand, and while running his other hand through his hair, incanted "Crines Incantatum Finitum," then ran back to the shower.
In the normal course of 'new boyfriend' relations, their shower should have been a more explorative version of the last one, but Draco didn't want to tempt Harry at this point, so he only allowed him to wash his back, then returned the favour. They got out, dried off, then went to get dressed, and brush their teeth and hair.
As they were doing this, Harry was thinking. He was confused, and a little hurt that Draco was holding back again, but he'd let it go. If it continued, he'd talk to his potential mate then. The thought brought him up short. ''Potential mate'? I've actually gone there in my thinking?' He thought he should be not only upset with himself, but knew that a week ago he would have been disgusted with the thought. But now he'd seen beneath Draco's mask, and knew why he wore it. He knew that maybe it should have bothered him that he was thinking about another male as a potential mate, but it didn't. 'I wonder if that's what's bothering Draco?' He decided to ask him about it after breakfast. In the meantime, he had a surprise for the beautiful blond.
Harry finished with everything else, then started carefully brushing his hair. When he was finished, he turned to look at Draco, who was still fussing over his own blond locks. "You know, I've been seen your hair in pretty much every way it's been since we've been in these rooms. I think I prefer it loose. When you have it slicked back, you look like a git, and all that dressing makes my fingers greasy. Loose, it's much sexier."
Draco looked annoyed after this little speech. "That's the idea, Harry. I need to make people fear me! In the circles I have to associate with, if I'm seen as soft, I'll become a victim." Then his face softened as Harry's face fell. "But I'll wear it loose when it's just you and me. Okay?"
Harry smiled. "You know, you keep being nice to me, and I might just fall in love with you, after all. As for becoming a victim - forget it. I'll protect you."
Draco stiffened, reminded of things he didn't want to contemplate just yet. "That might not be a very good idea, Potter," he said coldly.
Harry was miffed. "What is it with you, today? You're running hot and cold!"
A tear slipped down Draco's cheek, despite his best efforts. "Have you forgotten Lucius, Harry? Or the other Death Eaters?" Draco asked softly.
"You're not like that, and..." Harry began.
"How do you know?!" Draco interrupted, yelling.
"Our link. Our bond," Harry said softly. "You may believe some of the same things, but I don't think you'd choose the same means to accomplish them. And I'm not even sure if you truly believe what you've been taught, or if you're just repeating them because you don't know the other side of the galleon. The way you behaved with Dobby tells me that you're willing to learn different things."
Draco just stared into Harry's emerald eyes, anger turning to disbelief, and then to wonder, as he listened. "You... You listened to me? You watched me?"
"I have been ever since we met. I usually didn't like what I saw and heard, but I couldn't seem to help myself. Now you've told me the reasons for your actions, and I felt their truth," Harry said softly, willing the younger man to accept his understanding.
Draco's eyes dropped, and his shoulders slumped.
"I'll do my very best to protect you, Draco, and so will others, if you'll let us." Silence. "Will you?" Harry prompted. Draco slowly raised his eyes to Harry's, and nodded. Harry knew that what Draco had just agreed to was a huge concession. He drew him into a close hug, and kissed his forehead. Draco's stomach growled. The Slytherin turned a little pink, abashed by his body's betrayal. Harry laughed softly, and said "I think it's time for breakfast, don't you?"
Breakfast was pancakes with honey and butter, and bacon. Tea, coffee, and juice were also served, of course. Afterwards, they asked Dobby to tell Madam Pomfrey that they'd like to visit.
Draco was looking at Harry in puzzlement as they awaited word for when it would be convenient for them to drop by. "Harry?"
"Yes?"
"You're not wearing your glasses. And have you done something to your hair?"
"Do you like it?"
"You're... I don't know - gorgeous. You should really get your eyes fixed so you can stay like that."
Harry chuckled. "I did, a long time ago. I did it in secret. I'm glad you like it."
"Then why have you still been wearing them? Don't they interfere?"
"Protective coloration; like a chameleon plant. They're just plain glass, unless someone else looks through them," Harry explained.
"And your hair?" Draco asked, running the fingers of one hand through it.
"A little mussing charm, to keep my scar from showing," Harry admitted.
Draco frowned. "You wouldn't need a charm to hide your scar, Harry."
Harry grinned, embarrassed. "Okay, you caught me." His face grew serious. "I hate all the attention. I hate the fame. For what? Living? That's a huge accomplishment, that is, especially since it was none of my doing. So I try to stay anonymous. Messy hair makes it less likely that anyone would pay attention to me - and it does hide the scar."
The bitterness in Harry's tone as he voiced words that Draco had more or less said for years against him, shocked Draco. He admitted aloud that he'd been saying the same thing about Harry for so long. To his surprise, Harry laughed. "Well, I guess we think alike on some things then, don't we, prat?"
The affection in Harry's voice took the sting out of the words, and Draco grinned at the green-eyed young man next him. "Quiet, git." he responded in the same vein. "Anyway, I really like the new look. It suits you."
Madam Pomfrey, when she showed up outside their door in person, had much the same opinion. Then she got down to business. "Trouble?" the mediwitch asked.
"Um. No, not really," Harry said, surprised by her presence in their rooms. He'd never heard of Poppy Pomfrey visiting patients elsewhere than the infirmary, unless it was an emergency - and those needing care away from the infirmary were usually on the quidditch pitch. She attended every game, for exactly that reason.
"Harry was unconscious this morning when I woke up," Draco contradicted.
The mediwitch frowned. "I assume you know the difference between 'asleep' and 'unconscious', so all I'm going to ask is how long, and why?"
"I don't know how long," Draco replied. "Like I said, he was unconscious when I woke up. At first, I assumed he was asleep, but when I tried to wake him, he didn't even move. After about fifteen minutes, I threw some water in his face, and he woke up. When I asked him what had happened..." He turned to the raven-haired lad beside him. "Harry? Do you want to tell her?"
Harry shrugged. "I woke up smelling Draco. When I realised it was him, I passed out."
"Very complimentary, Harry," Draco drawled.
Harry's cheeks coloured a bit, and he looked vaguely shamed. "Sorry, Draco. Didn't mean for it to sound like that." Turning back to Madam Pomfrey, he explained. "It wasn't a bad smell - it was rather spicy and sweet. Still is," he said, grinning at the Slytherin, before looking back to the mediwitch. "I don't know why I blacked out after I realised it was coming from Draco. It's a very nice scent."
The mediwitch looked thoughtful. "Have you read the books that were left here for you?"
"No, but Draco told me that it might be that I was just picking up on the scent of my potential mate. He's been acting a bit strange since then," Harry answered.
"It's not every day that you find yourself the sex object of a part-Veela, Harry," Draco said, sharply.
"I thought that might be it," Harry said, sadly, to the young blond man. "I'm sorry. It's not something I can control. I just hope when it's your turn, it's my scent."
"Considering what started this whole thing, it should be, Mr. Potter," Poppy interjected.
Pretending that he hadn't heard her, Harry continued. "If it's any consolation, I don't look at you as a sex object, Draco. I've grown very fond of you over the past few days. If I knew what love was, I might be able to say that I love you. But I've never been in love before, so I don't know."
Harry's laying his emotions out, naked on the table as it were, touched Draco deeply, despite his new-found resolve of just an hour ago not to be pushed into anything. "I... I... Damn it, Potter!" His eyes were brimming. "Why?" The question wasn't why Harry didn't know if he loved him, it was more along the lines of 'Why me? What do you see in me? What do you want from me? What can I give you? How? Why?'
"Madam Pomfrey? Could you leave, please?" Harry requested, not looking away from the young man facing him. "We'll read the books."
The mediwitch blinked, not used to being dismissed, looked from Harry to Draco, then a look of understanding came into her eyes. "Of course, Mr. Potter. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask." Moments later, they were alone.
"Why did you do that?" Draco asked Harry.
"I didn't think you'd want anyone to see you cry," Harry replied.
"I'm not going to cry! A Malfoy isn't weak enough to cry!" Draco protested, just before the first tear trickled down his cheek. Suddenly, he found Harry's arms around him, and he buried his face in the Gryffindor's chest, so the tears wouldn't be seen. And perhaps, said a faint voice in the back of his mind, for some comfort from the confusion he was feeling. This was, after all, a brand-new experience for him. He'd never been loved before.
"Tears aren't weak, Draco. Sometimes they're the only things that can heal."
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Light of Heaven