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Fairest Creatures	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 22177 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

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Chapter Nine—Mates

            “Please accept my formal apology for pursuing you,” said Professor Helios, and bowed to Harry with his wings held out to the side. “You and I are both mated. It should not have happened.”

            Harry held back a groan. Professor Helios was bowing to him in the middle of the dining hall, of all places. Why couldn’t he have done it in private? Or at least a corridor?

            Although, from the way the other Veela gossiped, Harry supposed it didn’t much matter where he did it. Someone would find out and start spreading the gossip around anyway.

            “You’re forgiven,” said Harry, and watched as Professor Helios stood straight and rotated his wings. “Just don’t do it again,” Harry added, and then winced as he saw the measuring way Professor Helios looked at him. That had sounded awful, hadn’t it? Or at least it wasn’t the right ritual words to say.

            Then again, expecting him to learn the right ritual words to accept an apology like this on top of everything else was absurd.

            “I won’t,” said Professor Helios. “By the next time we meet, I’m sure that you’ll have formal lessons in controlling your allure anyway, courtesy of your own mate.” He nodded to Harry and sauntered away towards a distant table, where a golden-haired woman looked up with a smile to welcome him.

            “Are you also the one who has to give me etiquette lessons?” Harry asked Malfoy, who sat on the other side of the table from him.

            Malfoy—Harry did remember to call him Draco aloud, but it was hard to remember in his head—lifted his head and smiled at him. Harry had to choke a little. The smile was the most sincere he had ever seen Malfoy give, and had nothing of the false or the syrupy about it, as Harry had assumed it would.

            “Has to is an ineloquent way of putting it.” Draco, or Malfoy, or whatever, stretched out his hand and lightly squeezed Harry’s. “It’s a duty that I gladly take up.”

            Harry stared down at his hand and sighed a little. He wasn’t hungry. “Can we go back to our rooms and talk about this some more? I’m still worried about making an arse of myself.”

            “Our rooms?”

            “Um, I mean, your room, my room, whatever,” Harry said hastily. “With the door open. To talk.” One thing he had managed to pick up from today’s Veela Mate Culture lesson was that until a pair of mates was bonded—which was apparently a step beyond claiming—they weren’t supposed to be together behind a closed door.

            “If you wish.” Draco gave him a half-smile and stood up with an orange in one hand and a small knife in the other. “I must say, it seems rather late in the day, and a bit frustrating, for you to be adhering to formal rules now.”

            Harry flushed. “I’ve already made things worse than I knew by stumbling around without my allure properly-controlled. I don’t want anything like that to happen again.”

            “An admirable sentiment, but the school’s seen worse, I assure you.”

            “I know, but I don’t know a lot about that, either,” Harry admitted, and gathered a handful of nuts to dump into his pocket. “That’s one of the things I think we need talk about.”

            “The history of the school? If you want.”

            Draco moved his wings a little and turned away, but not quickly enough to keep Harry from seeing the hurt look on his face.

            Harry groaned to himself and ran over as Draco floated towards the door of the dining hall. He thought Draco was actually beating his wings a little to hurry himself along, although he did it so subtly that his heels didn’t even lift from the floor. Harry envied that trick and wanted to know how he did it, but he also wanted to hold Draco still and make him listen to him.

            “Nothing’s going to work if we don’t talk honestly to each other,” Harry said, and held Draco still with a hand on his shoulder. Draco glanced at him and fluttered his wings again, as if he wanted to protest but didn’t know how. “I don’t know what I said to offend you just now, but it was something. What?”

            “Let’s at least step into the corridor. This is the kind of private I don’t want the other students or professors to overhear.”

            Harry nodded and followed willingly. Draco paced slowly in front of him, his wings leaping and jerking. Harry kept walking until he thought they would get back to their rooms in silence at this rate. But just before he would have cleared his throat, Draco started speaking.

            “I don’t want to spend time telling you the history of the school. I want to talk about the things I can help you with. The history of the school isn’t one of those.”

            Harry blinked at Draco’s back. Draco didn’t turn around or flush or laugh. He just kept plodding as if he assumed Harry would immediately run away to the library to find the school’s equivalent of Hogwarts, A History.

            “Er, fine,” Harry said. “I mean—I don’t understand why those things can’t come later and we can’t talk about things like what mating means and claiming and bonding first, but fine. I’ll find someone else to tell me the history of the school.” He shook his head a little. He didn’t feel any nearer to understanding Veela despite being one.

            Draco turned around and floated back towards him. This time, Harry was watching closely, and he didn’t think there was any doubt of it. Draco was flying. Subtly, yes, but his feet did sometimes rise. That must be why so many of the Veela seemed to be gliding around like the swans Testig had compared them to.

            “You’ve got to show me how you do that,” Harry breathed, and looked up into Draco’s wide stare.

            Draco’s eyes shone with something that Harry couldn’t call love, but he also thought it was softer than obsession. He reached out and glided a hand down Harry’s cheek, and Harry had to close his eyes.

            He didn’t think it was the mates thing, assuming that still existed after his flash of allure and the way he had enchanted other people. It just felt good to be touched like that. And even though Harry had dated plenty of people since the war, he hadn’t had many who would do something like this.

            Most of them were more adventurous, he thought wryly, and opened his eyes again quickly as Draco’s forehead came to rest against his. Draco didn’t even seem interested in lifting his fringe and looking at his scar, the way most of his dates had been.

            “I promise you’re going to have what you want,” Draco breathed back, and drew back, but allowed his hand to slide along Harry’s cheek and maintain the connection between them for a second. “Mates first. Everything else second. I just thought you were more interested in the history than that.”

            Harry shook his head. “The mates thing first. Definitely.”

            Draco smiled a little and nodded. “Then come with me.” And once again he went floating up the corridor, while Harry followed him and studied him and tried to convince himself that he wasn’t seeing things.

            But in the end, he decided he wasn’t. It really did look as though Draco’s floating gait was happier than it had been before he and Harry talked about what he would teach him.

*

            Draco’s rooms were a little fancier than his, but Harry didn’t think that had anything to do with who the school assigned priority to. Rather, Draco had brought a lot of material comforts along from Malfoy Manor, and had used them to furnish his rooms.

            There was a bathroom with a tile floor done in colors of glassy green and rich blue, and a mosaic of swimming fish so realistic that Harry almost jumped when he saw it. There were curtains that were almost plush, the material was so thick and white, and Harry had the urge to touch them. There was a huge bed with pale silver sheets that Harry wanted to sit on, even though Draco was leading him towards the fireplace, because it looked like the most comfortable thing in the room.

            Then again, the chairs were pretty bloody comfortable, too. Harry nestled his head against the cushion on the back of his and sighed, feeling as though some of the tension of the day was leaving the cramped muscles of his neck.

            “You look as though you’d be happy to mate with that chair, Potter.”

            Harry looked up quickly, blinking. Malfoy—that was pure Malfoy in that tone, without the softer one he’d come to think of as “Draco.” Was he really jealous enough to hate the way Harry was letting his head rest on the chair? Because that would be a problem.

            But Draco smiled at him as always and then sat down on the chair across from Harry. “This is the kind of thing I can offer you if we finish our bonding,” he said. “Luxury and comfort. The kinds of things that you should have had from the time you were a child.” His fists knotted in his lap for a second. “The kind of thing you would have had if your parents had survived.”

            Harry only shrugged uncomfortably. He didn’t think Draco knew much about the Dursleys, and he was content to keep it that way. “I thought we were mates. ‘If we finish our bonding…’ What does that mean?”

            “As far as I’m concerned, we’re mates,” Draco said quietly. “Our magic is compatible and you respond to my touch.”

            “But there’s more to it. One of the Veela my allure affected said something about being able to change the claim, or stake another one, or something. Is that true?”

            “If the claim isn’t followed up on, yes.” Draco sighed a little. “And we know it wasn’t followed up on enough because you could let your allure go and charm other people. If it had been, then all your charm and allure would have been focused on me.”

            Harry slowly tilted his head back until he was staring at the ceiling. That looked the same as the one in his room, anyway. “I still don’t know how to feel like the allure is part of me,” he admitted. “Like it’s me and not just some--embarrassing bodily function that’s charming people.”

            Draco snickered. Harry looked at him. “What? Charm practically is an embarrassing bodily function when it does something like that.”

            “Yes, all right, I can see how you feel.” Draco held up one hand when Harry opened his mouth again. “I just never heard anyone describe it that way before.”

            Harry found his wings ruffling, and consciously tried to smooth his feathers down. At least that worked better on his second day in the school than his first. “I think everyone else in the school feels more like they’re part of their Veela,” he said quietly. “Or the Veela is part of them. Whatever. I just feel like the wings are attached to me and I want them off, and the charm is attached to me and blurts out whenever it wants.”

            “You’re still you,” Draco said quietly. “Same history, almost the same body. As stubborn and brave and handsome as you ever were.”

            Harry watched him and tried to ignore the feeling of the blush that heated up his cheeks. “I do think you’ve changed since Hogwarts,” he said. “And so have I.”

            Draco nodded. “I won’t deny that. The boy I was could never have stood to be mated to you. Or he would have lorded it over you.”

            “Let’s get on to you telling me what being my mate does mean, then,” Harry said, with as much cheerfulness as he could. “Since we’ve established that it doesn’t mean me changing in essentials and you’ve already changed and we’re not eternally together.”

            “Not yet,” Draco said, and sat up, his wings fluffing out to the sides. Harry glanced at them before he could stop himself, and winced a little. The blue bars were so bright that they actually looked almost neon.

            “Listen,” Draco said softly, and Harry’s eyes snapped back to his face. Draco’s voice was still gentle, but Harry no longer thought it was adoring. He wanted to make sure Harry was listening so he didn’t have to repeat himself, probably.

            Harry nodded. “I am.”

            “Good.” Draco slid his fingers through the cloth of his trousers. He kept his gaze on those fingers, as if he was a little worried about what he would see on Harry’s face. “What I told you about the magic that binds mates together? It’s probably not accurate to say that it’s mysterious and not understood. There are different theories about it, that’s all. Different traditions. I wasn’t about to say that in front of Testig, though.”

            “Because she believes in just one theory?”

            Draco snorted a little. “Exactly. And that’s that you have to cope with what happens, and stop asking questions about why that can never be answered.”

            His eyes rose again, and Harry blinked. He didn’t know if Malfoy had had that ring of blue around the outside of his eyes before, but it was strangely enthralling.

            “This is true no matter what,” Draco whispered. “A claiming is a temporary tie between two individuals. I wouldn’t have been able to make one if your magic wasn’t compatible with mine and you didn’t respond to my touch, though. If I tried one with another new Veela, she wouldn’t feel anything like you did. If I tried it with Professor Helios, his magic would repel me.”

            “The difference between an unmated Veela and a mated one?” Harry guessed.

            Draco nodded. “Or even between one who’s only gone through one stage and one who’s gone through both.” He hesitated. “The claim is called that because it’s basically a shout at the world that ‘I want this one! Right here!’ But a claim can be disputed. If another Veela with compatible magic comes along and charms the claimed one, she can still disrupt that forming bond and stake a claim of her own.”

            “Will I respond to someone else the way I would to you?” Harry interrupted. The thought made his spine prickle. It was bad enough with someone he knew and who was trying to be decent about the whole thing. He didn’t know the other Veela students in the school at all well.

            “You would if your magic was exactly as compatible with hers as with mine. But that doesn’t happen often.” Draco’s wings had become stiff, as if he was gliding on an invisible wind. “If there are two Veela near you who are both potential mates, it’s only the stronger one who shows the bars on their wings.”

            “So I wouldn’t know if she was compatible with me anyway,” Harry finished, thoughtfully, wondering how he felt about that. Would he like a female mate more? Someone he didn’t know that well, but could get to know?

            “The bonding is more complicated,” said Draco loudly.

            Harry blinked and focused on him again. Draco looked as if he was about to jump out of the chair and swoop across the room towards him. Harry leaned back a little and raised his hands. “I didn’t say I would want to bond with a compatible female mate instead. It would still have the same problems with taking my choice away.”

            Draco stared at him for the space of a hard breath, then nodded and let his wings droop a little. “All right,” he said. “Anyway. The claim is fragile and it can be broken, although usually only by another compatible potential mate. The bonding is—a ritual. A ceremony. A feast. It has to be followed by making love and preceded by courtship.”

            Harry shook his head hard. Draco was at his side in an instant, feeling his ears as if trying to determine what had made him do that.

            “Harry?”

            “I wasn’t saying—no,” Harry said. “It’s just that we’re a long way from that. And anyway, you told me about mates who disliked each other. Did they really court each other and make love afterwards?”

            His voice was a little weak. Harry wasn’t a virgin, of course not, but the thought of going to bed with someone who had courted him…he was just used to dating, that was all. And not setting out to sleep with someone. He had dated plenty of people he just thought were interesting and who he would give the chance to have something more with him, instead of deciding that he would take them to bed the minute he saw them.

            “A couple of the Ministers have had political partnerships like that,” Draco said. “Several members of the Wizengamot. But—Harry, I don’t want that. I want the more romantic traditional mate bond.”

            Harry glanced at him reluctantly. Draco’s eyes were large enough that Harry could see his reflection in them.

            “I know,” Harry said. “That’s—the kind of family I would want to have, as well. I certainly never envisioned marrying for some kind of political reason.” He took a deep breath and sat up. “But I never envisioned being courted, either. What is that process like?”

            Draco’s eyes seemed to glow. He said, “Usually one Veela knows more than the other, if it’s a courtship between two Veela instead of one Veela and one ordinary wizard. It’s common for mates either to be different ages or for one of them to manifest as a Veela first.” He spread his wings in silent comment. “So they teach their mate, things like controlling their allure, and they also get taught by the mate.”

            “How?” Harry didn’t feel as if he could teach anyone at the moment. He certainly didn’t want to try.

            Draco eyed him thoughtfully. “You may know a little about traditional human means of courtship? About giving gifts and flowers and that sort of thing.” Harry nodded, although the only things he knew were hazy memories from Muggle primary school and some poems he’d had to read there. “Well, the gifts and so on in this courtship don’t get given by the courting mate. They manifest between the two compatible partners. You teach me what you like, what you need.” His voice lowered. “How to win your heart.”

            Harry licked his lips, staring at Draco. He couldn’t help himself. This sounded—ridiculously romantic and soppy, the kind of thing he had heard Lavender and Parvati talking about when they still attended Hogwarts.

            But it was also the kind of thing he had to cope with, at least for now. And he didn’t think that Draco would agree to snap apart the claim, or not bond. And he had to admit, he was curious.

            He hadn’t thought this kind of Veela bond could give him anything romantic or permanent or desirable. But what if it could? What if he walked away from it without giving Draco the chance he’d given a bunch of other people he dated, up until the point when they turned out to be more interested in the flash of the cameras than in him?

            “I’ll give it a chance,” Harry said. “How easy is the courtship to stop?”

            “Only one of the participants can stop it.”

            Draco had a soft glow around him, like candleshine on his wings—only there were no candles behind him that could be making him shine like that. Harry smiled and raised his hand to stroke the edge of Draco’s wing. Draco hissed blissfully in return, his eyelids flickering up and down.

            “We’ll try,” Harry said. “And the first thing I’d like to do is learn to control my allure. So there aren’t any more people thinking they can interrupt.”

            Sometimes, even with other people he’d dated, he would say just the right thing. From the blazing look in Draco’s eyes now, he’d done it again. Draco reached out and tightly linked his fingers through Harry’s own.

“Yes,” Draco whispered. “I think that would be—best.”

*

BAFan: Yes. And Draco was smart to emphasize choice, and that Harry has some control in this process, that he isn’t just the unwilling recipient of it.

SP777: Maybe even to a good place.
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