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Care To Explain?	By : Closet Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 79017 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- 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
- 1-Care To Explain?
- 1
This is in response to LocalShadow’s challenge found here on this site.

Post HBP - makes some reference to it, but doesn’t really have spoilers, per say. Anyways,
obviously I don’t own Harry Potter. Do I look rich to you? HA!

Going to Explain?

            It all started the morning Harry woke up and discovered that every last stitch of his
clothing gone.

            “I can’t figure out what in the world happened to all my clothes!” Harry yelped, then
glared furiously at his best friend. “It’s not funny, Ron, so stop laughing!”

            “Well, all your clothes are gone!” Ron laughed. “You haven’t even got any socks! What
kind of prank were they playing on you?”

            “I don’t know, Ron,” Harry narrowed his eyes at his best friend. “Your brothers are the
most notorious pranksters Hogwarts has ever had... perhaps you inherited something from them?
Did you have a hand in this, Ronald Bilius Weasley?!”

            Ron snorted. “I did not. Here, you can borrow one of my uniforms, okay?”

            “Fine,” Harry muttered, changing out of the shorts he’d worn to bed the night before - the
only stitch of clothing he had left in the entire room, except for his Invisibility Cloak, which he
was half tempted to put on and just hide - and pulled on the uniform Ron had handed him. It was
overly big for him - the cuffs literally hung over his ankles and hands, but he just rolled them up,
yanked on a pair of Neville’s shoes the boy lent him, and headed down for breakfast with his
book bag.

            “Why are you wearing a uniform so big?” Hermione asked, warily, over her kippers.

            “Get this,” Ron said, leaning forward eagerly to tell the story, despite Harry’s red flushed
face. “When we woke up this morning, every single piece of Harry’s clothes was missing. He
didn’t have anything left - not even socks, or pants, or anything!”

            At that precise moment, Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were passing by where they sat
at the Gryffindor table, and the blonde’s eyes narrowed dangerously at the three of them, before
he elbowed Blaise, and muttered something under his breath.

            Draco Malfoy had been acquitted from his Death Eater activity after Harry had finally
defeated the Dark Lord the summer before on the defense that he had been forced to join to
protect his family, and he did release a vast amount of information to the Order by the end of the
war. To all the Gryffindor’s surprise, he hadn’t caused trouble for them once since they had come
back for their seventh year of school, albeit after a year off when the school had been closed.

            But now, at Draco’s hissed order, Blaise sneered at them. “Woke up this morning, and
not a thing fit, Potter?”

            Harry groaned, and speared a kipper with his fork. “Leave us alone, Zabini.”

            “You know, I thought you’d finally gotten to act like a normal wizard the last couple
months, but you are apparently back to looking like an utter muggle loving disgrace again,”
Zabini pressed.

            Ron leapt to his feet, fists clenched in righteous indignation for Harry’s sake, Harry
bolted to his feet to try and pull Ron back to his seat, and Hermione alone noticed the dangerous
way Draco narrowed his eyes at Blaise, as though he, too, was pissed about the comment Zabini
had made.

            “Sod off, Zabini!” Ron yelled.

            Zabini instead, wand just poking out of the tip of his sleeve, hissed something under his
breath.

            For a moment, no one was quite sure what exactly Blaise had done. But then Harry
realized that he was feeling somewhat... cold, all of a sudden... and someone, somewhere had
started to laugh. Then suddenly everyone was alternately laughing or gasping, and Hermione
gapsed, “Harry! Your clothes!”

            Harry looked down at himself, then let out a squeal of horror when he discovered that he
was completely and totally naked.

            Deatheaters, he could handle. Voldemort, he’d faced down and killed by himself. Snape,
he would - and had - hunt down and exact revenge on solidly.

            But standing naked in the middle of the Great Hall where everyone could see just what
exactly it was he had - that was something he couldn’t deal with.

            Turning bright red, Harry threw his hands in front of his private bits, and was about to run
screaming from the room when something very unexpected happened. Draco Malfoy walked up
to him, removed his own cloak, then wrapped it firmly around Harry’s shoulders.

            “What-?” Harry started, gaping in confusion as Draco carefully fastened the buttons and
clasps, not saying a word, and not meeting his eyes. “Malfoy, what are you doing?!”

            Draco still didn’t say anything, but as soon as he had finished fastening the buttons, he
knelt suddenly in front of Harry, bent, and touched his forehead to Harry’s bare toes. Then he
stood, spun, and strode grandly from the Main Hall, cloak billowing in a style scarily reminiscent
of the late Potions Master.

            Ron and Hermione were gaping at him when Harry turned to look back at them, and
Zabini was nowhere in sight.

            “What the bloody hell was that, mate?” Ron gasped.

            Harry blinked. “I’d really like to know that myself.”

~+~

            To Harry’s alarm, he was quite unable to remove the cloak Draco had put on him. They
had tried every unlocking charm they could imagine on the buttons, but nothing worked.
Headmistress McGonagall had even tried her darndest, and nothing would work. At last, he went
back to class, going about his usual business... but with no clothes but Draco Malfoy’s Slytherin
crested robes. And absolutely nothing else.

            As humiliating as that was, however, what was even worse was that, every time he
entered a room that Draco was in, be it classroom, or the Main Hall again, Draco would walk up,
kneel and touch forehead to toes again, then stand back up and go back to whatever it was he was
doing, and he wouldn’t say a word to Harry.

            It was driving Harry nuts!

            So the next morning, when he came down to breakfast, still wearing Draco’s robes as he
had been utterly unable to get them off even to sleep the night before, Harry had to admit that he
was kind of expecting just another repeat of yesterday’s activities.

            What he did not expect was for Draco to walk up to him at the Gryffindor table, and dash
his plate off of it onto the floor.

            “Malfoy, the hell?!” Harry spluttered, bolting to his feet.

            Draco knelt to the floor, and picked up something Draco hadn’t noticed before - a silver
tray loaded with fresh fruits and pastries, the really rich and fancy kind that Hogwarts never got.
Still, he didn’t say anything, just knelt, eyes downcast, tray in hand.

            “What are you on about, Malfoy?” Ron sneered, but Hermione seemed to have a more
objective view to all this.

            “I think he wants you to eat that food, Harry,” Hermione said primly, turning another
page in her book, which looked even thicker and older than usual.

            “Yeah, right,” Ron scoffed, but Harry figured, hey, why not?

            Reaching down, Harry carefully plucked a strawberry off the top of the pile, and holding
it carefully between index and thumb, took a bite of it. It was easily the best piece of fruit he had
ever tasted, and Harry couldn’t help but moan at the taste. Merlin, it was heaven in a mouthful!

            “Thanks Malfoy,” Harry said, truthfully, as he finished the juicy berry, and licked the
juice off his fingers. “Er... you can go now... I don’t really need...”

            For the first time in the last twenty four hours, Draco made some response, looking up.
His quicksilver eyes were startlingly hard and serious, and he fixed a firm look on Harry that
invited no arguments.

            Feeling strangely pinned under those fierce eyes, Harry hastily grabbed for another piece
of fruit, and despite the dozens of eyes on him from around the room and from his own table,
Harry kept eating until Draco seemed to decide that he’d had enough, and stood smoothly, taking
the tray with him.

            “That was so bizarre...” Harry muttered, even as he idly slurped at a bit of peach juice that
had dribbled down onto his palm.

            At lunch time, when Harry tried to scoop himself a plate of kidney pie, Draco threw that
to the floor too, and presented him instead with some fancy kind of soup Harry had never seen
before, and quiche.

            Deciding that there was something very bizarre going on here, Harry tried to stand and
leave, but found mercury eyes suddenly fixed on his, and the next thing he knew, he was sitting,
fork in hand, chewing a mouthful of quiche. “Wait...” he spluttered, confused. “What just
happened?”

            At supper, Harry found himself eating pheasant and mincemeat pie, sipping at mulled
mead.

            “That actually looks really good, mate,” Ron admitted, peering over the table at the tray
Draco still held for Harry. “Can I try some?”

            Before Harry could even answer, he realized that Draco was growling, deep and
dangerous sounding, before rising to a higher pitch, almost like the hissing sound a cat makes
when it gets in a fight.

            “Err.... I don’t think that would be such a good idea,” Harry said quickly, shrugging.
“Sorry, Ron.”

            Ron grumbled, but dug into his own roast beef with a shrug. “S’all right. Not your fault
Malfoy’s a git.”

            Draco growled again, and Harry winced. “Lay off of Malfoy, Ron. He’s not doing
anything wrong.”

            “A ha!” Hermione muttered, half under her breath, whipped a parchment out of her bag,
and jotted something down.

            Ron and Harry just stared at her like she’d grown another head, shrugged, and went back
to their food.

            ~+~

            “Err...” Harry stared at the fluffy thing Draco held out towards him with a cautious eye.
“What is that?”

            It looked like a puppy, to be honest, a Jack Russell terrier puppy, cheerful and cute -
except that it had a forked tail. It was cute, though.

            “It’s a crup,” Hermione said off handedly, already scribbling something on her piece of
parchment. “Something like a dog, only fiercely loyal to wizards and distrustful of muggles. They
make good pets. Honestly, they’re in our magical creatures texts from first year.”

            “Oh.” Harry stared at the thing, where it was wriggling desperately in the kneeling
Draco’s hands, as though trying to get out and run. “Well, what am I supposed to do with it?”

            “I think he’s giving it to you, mate,” Ron said slowly, frowning. “Though I’ve got no idea
why.”

            Feeling rather silly about the whole thing, Harry reached out, and carefully, awkwardly,
lifted the wriggling thing from Draco’s hands. Draco’s hands, he noticed as he did, felt
surprisingly smooth, but then his attention was consumed by the soft, warm wriggling ball of fur
in his hands. “Hello there,” he said softly, lifting it towards his face to look at it properly. To his
surprise, the thing managed to wiggle forward enough to lick at his face, before barking
cheerfully. “Merlin, it’s adorable!”

            Apparently that had been the cue Draco had been waiting for, because he suddenly tipped
his forehead to Harry’s toes again, then went to retrieve the silver tray he’d brought as well, and
held it up. This time, there was also a deflated balloon on the tray, which struck Harry as a little
odd, until the puppy crup in his hands squirmed out of his grip, snatched up the thing in its tiny
teeth, and gobbled it up before his eyes.

            “Hey, it’s gonna choke!” Harry yelped, horrified, but Ron stopped him before he could
grab for the crup.

            “Nope, crups eat all kinds of crazy things like that,” Ron said through a mouthful of
pancakes. “Gram has one for eating the gnomes in her garden. They clean up local trash spots
real well too.”

            “Oh.” Harry blinked at the thing. “Well, that’s okay, then. I guess.”

            He shook his head. This was just getting weirder and weirder.

~+~

            Laying on one of the couches in the common room that night, Harry played with the crup
- who had yet to get a name - and looked over at Hermione and Ron. “So. What do you think is
going on?”

            “Isn’t it obvious?” Hermione tutted, looking up from yet another book.

            Harry blinked. “Is it?”

            Ron snorted. “Yeah, Harry, it’s clear as mud to me, don’t you get it?”

            “Yeah...” Harry muttered, scratching behind the crup’s ears, and loving the way it panted
and yipped, forked tails wagging frantically. “Care to enlighten us, Hermione?”

            “Sorry,” Hermione shrugged. “I’m afraid I can’t.”

            “Why not?!” Ron yelped, obviously filled with indignation, whether for his best friend’s
sake, or because he just didn’t understand himself and didn’t like being left in the dark, who
knew.

            “Well, because it’s illegal, isn’t it?” Hermione answered primly.

            Harry blinked. “Say what?”

            “Illegal,” Hermione repeated, then looked up from her book. “You might want to go to
bed, Harry, I expect you’ll be tired tomorrow if you don’t.”

            “Right...” Harry muttered, and clambered up the stairs, followed by a rambunctious
puppy. When he reached his room, Harry flopped back onto his bed - he’d given up on trying to
remove the robes Draco had locked on him - then leaned over to pull the crup up onto the bed
with him when it struggled to reach him. It immediately curled up on his chest, licking once at
the small patch of his collarbone exposed by the robes before falling to sleep, it’s little tails
wagging slowly in its dreams.

            As he lay there in the semi dark, his curtains pilled closed around him, hearing the
slightly muffled sounds of the other boys in the dorm coming to bed themselves, he made a plan.

            So it was illegal for Hermione to tell him what was going on, was it? Well, it couldn’t be
illegal for him to track Draco down and force him to tell him what was going on!

            Not that he exactly minded, to be honest. Okay, so he really would like his clothes back -
he was fairly confident in his belief that Draco had been the one to steal them in the first place -
and he didn’t really mind the food, all things considered, though it was a little odd, and well, the
crup was just adorable. How could he not love this furry little bundle of love?

            He just wanted to know why Draco was doing this. Sure, they hadn’t been enemies since
Draco had come to the Order begging protection and bringing a Horcrux with him. But they
hadn’t been friends either - they had still hated each other, he’d thought - so all of this strange
behavior was confusing him.

            Then it was settled. He’d confront Draco about this first thing in the morning.

~+~

            Correction.

            First thing in the morning, he would gape at the seventh year boys dormitory in absolute
shock and awe, jaw hanging.

            He had not expected to wake up, pull back the curtains, and discover that the entire room
was covered in red roses. No kidding, red roses. Thousands of them, everywhere. In every nook
and cranny, covering the floor, desks, shelves, windowsills, and when he walked into the
bathroom, they were everywhere there, too.

            Which was why Harry didn’t wait for Ron and Hermione, but instead marched down the
hallways, crup scampering along behind him, headed for the dungeons.

            Draco was just coming out of the Slytherin common room when he turned down that
hallway, and Harry threw up an arm, and yelled, “Malfoy!”

            Draco spun, but he didn’t look startled like Harry had expected, but instead strangely
calm - the same expression he’d been wearing for the last three days straight.

            “Hey, did you put those roses in my room?” Harry asked, frowning. “Cause... how’d you
manage to do that without getting caught? And why are you doing this, anyway?!”

            Draco didn’t say anything, but simply walked forward, kneeling again, and bending
forward. Harry wasn’t having any of this, though, and stepped back before Draco could manage
the full bend to the floor, making the blond pause, perhaps in surprise. “Seriously, why won’t you
talk to me? Hermione said it was illegal for her to say anything, aren’t you going to explain?!”

            There was a moment where neither moved, then Harry jumped and yelped when the crup
licked his ankle.

            Draco took advantage of his momentary distraction to complete his full kneel, forehead to
Harry’s toes before righting himself, standing almost scarily close to Harry. Harry could feel the
blond’s breath on his own lips, and his own breath caught. He couldn’t even try to breath, he
could feel himself frozen in the silver eyes right in front of his own.

            Then Draco stepped back, bowed once from the waist, and swept past him down the hall.

            It took Harry about five minutes to realize that not only had he not gotten an answer out
of Draco, the blond hadn’t said a single word.

~+~

            Nothing new happened for the rest of the day. Everything was fine. Granted, Draco kept
bringing him extremely exquisite dishes for meals, but otherwise, everything was the same as it
had been for Four days.

            Until dinner time the next day, when there was a sudden wailing scream, and everyone in
the Main Hall started running and screaming, away from the entrance.

            There in the entrance way, at least three times the size of a normal jungle cat, stood a
large black panther, hissing and spitting, claws bared.

            “It’s a nundu!” Hermione gasped, looking horrified as she bolted to her feet. “Malfoy,
you idiot!”

            “What-?!” Harry started, then backed up sharply himself when the thing suddenly spun to
fix it’s evil eyes on him. Hissing and growling, it suddenly broke into a loping run, heading
straight for him. The tiny crup leapt in front of him, growling and baring its teeth, but it would be
no match for a cat that size... Harry felt his heart leap up into his throat... he couldn’t find his
wand... Merlin, where was his wand... it leapt... he was going to die...

            An unearthly, inhuman wail broke through the air, and in a flying dervish of silver and
black school robes, Draco Malfoy launched himself at the nundu, snarling and slashing.

            Draco didn’t even seem to be human anymore, he was all claws and fangs and snarling
rage as he slashed at the beasts eyes and face, making it scream in fury and retaliate, still trying to
get past him and at Harry. The other students were shrieking, and trying to get as far away from
the thing as possible, but Harry could only continue backing up in horror, until he collided with
the bench, and fell backwards with a cry of pain and surprise.

            The nundu’s head swivelled to look at its fallen prey, and the Malfoy heir took his
chance.

            There was a painful sounding shriek of agony, then the nundu fell, shuddering, to the
flagstone floor, its throat ripped clean open, blood gushing heavily over the floor. Draco
straightened his spine slowly, blood dripping freely from his mouth as though he was some
carnal god of war. His robes were nearly shredded, and his back, arms and chest were bloodied
with vicious claw and fang wounds, but he still managed to maintain an air of extreme dignity
and good breeding.

            Bending to one knee for a moment, he seemed to be doing something to the nundu’s limp
body, then he straightened and strode over to kneel before the prone Harry.

            This time, in his upturned, bloody hands, lay the still warm, blood filled heart of the
nundu.

            Harry would have been lying if he said that he didn’t feel nauseous when he saw that. It
was probably the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen, and worse, he felt himself losing control
again in those silver eyes watching him much the same way the nundu had moments before.
Before he even knew what he had done, Harry had reached forward, taken the bloodied heart
from Draco’s hands, and bit down into it.

            Chewing a few times, feeling the warm gush of fresh blood drip out of the corner of his
mouth, Harry swallowed, then held his hands forward, offering the organ to Draco. The blond
took it, and Harry’s head cleared as he did, until he realized, with growing horror, that he had just
eaten a piece of that same heart that Draco was now also taking a bite of. Eyes wide, he could
only watch as Draco then lowered his hands, letting the puppy crup eat the rest of the carnage
from his hands, licking at the spilt blood.

            “Oh Merlin,” Harry gasped, head reeling as he struggled to his feet, and ran from the
Great Hall.

~+~

            “I thought I might find you here,” Hermione said quietly, sitting across from Harry. “Any
luck yet?”

            “No,” Harry muttered, not even looking up from the pages of the heavy, dusty tome he
was tracing the lines of with his finger. “I’ve yet to find anything in these magical law statutes.”

            “Might I direct you in the area of the magical creatures texts?” Hermione suggested
quietly. “I personally find the books about magical creatures that look human most interesting.”

            Harry blinked at her for a long moment, then realization dawned, and he bolted for said
section, finally finding a book entitled ‘Human or Creature? : Magical species often mistaken for
wizards.’ Returning to the table, he opened to the index, staring at it blankly for a long moment.
Okay, so Malfoy was a magical creature? There were hundreds listed in here, how was he going
to figure out which one Draco was?

            Hermione leaned forward, and set her quill carefully on the page. “There, you might need
that... and you might want to try getting the blood off your face and hands, Harry.”

            Harry blinked at her as she rose and headed out of the library, then looked down at the
quill. She had placed it so that the point aimed like an arrow at the entry titled “Veela :
Unlocking the mystery of their male”.

~+~

            Harry lay on his bed again, scratching at the ears of the crup.

            Well, now he knew what was going on.

            Draco Malfoy was a veela.

            And Harry was his mate.

            Turns out that veela mate for life, and they mate for power. They choose the most
powerful wizard they can find within fifteen years of their own age - presumably, the writer had
said, so that they wouldn’t end up with someone too old or too young for them - and begin to
initiate the complicated veela mating ritual.

            Those who study the veela had found in their research that the male veela, unlike their
more common female counterparts, exerted a hormonal influence on their mates only, instead of
on everyone around them. As well, perhaps because they were so rare and as such took on many
attributes that dictated the lives of the female veelas, male veelas always chose a male mate. It
wasn’t like they couldn’t have children - the bodily secretions of the male veela had a unique
affect on their mates once they were bonded, and the chemicals they released would, over time,
mold the body and magic of their mate enough to allow them to bear young.

            But the most interesting thing Harry had discovered was when they started discussing the
mating rituals.

            ‘Little is known about the veela mating rituals among female veela, and even less is
known among their male counterparts. All that is known is that the process consists of five days
of ritual, after which the bonding occurs. As the process of mating and the lead up to it are
generally kept quiet by the male veela, all that is known is that the veela must prove five things to
their mate before they can be accepted, and the mate has to accept that their proofs are valid.

            Firstly, the veela must be able to prove that he could clothe and protect his mate when he
has nothing.

            Second, he must be able to provide sustenance for the mate when the common is
unacceptable.

            Thirdly, the male veela must show his mate that he can provide children, raise and love
them the way the mates child would deserve.

            Fourth, the veela needs show that he adores and loves for his mate above all others, to
the complete exclusion of all others.

            Fifth, he must be able to show that he would and will protect his mate from the greatest
of threats, but share with him the greatest of victories.

            And finally, the mating would begin when the mate truly believes at the end of the five
days that his mate respects him above all else.”

            And wasn’t all of this just lovely?

            Scratching the crup’s ears, he counted aloud the stages.

            “First, clothing. Well, he stole all my clothes, and then got Zabini to strip me in front of
everybody, just so that he could give me his cloak and prove to me that he would clothe me when
I had nothing else. Check. Second, food.” He snorted. “Yeah. Got that. Third, children and
such... I suppose that’s why he gave me you, isn’t that right, boy?” Harry tickled at the nose of
the puppy, who barked, once, lapping at his finger. “Fourth, romance... I guess that would be the
roses. And as for protecting... well, the idiot did let a nundu into the school just so he could
kill it, and practically get killed himself, didn’t he?!”

            Sighing, Harry, rolled over and off the bed, making the crup bark at him, offended to
loose his pillow. “I’ve got to go find Malfoy,” he told the pup, scratching its floppy ears.
“Though I suppose I really ought to call him Draco these days, eh? Well... you stay here, all
right? Behave yourself?”

            The crup barked once, and he took that for a yes.

            Dragging his invisibility cloak out of his trunk, he tugging it over his head, and tiptoed
out of the dorm, down the stairs, and was just crossing the common room floor when Hermione’s
bushy haired head peered over the top of an armchair. “Going somewhere, Harry?”

            Harry would have jumped out of his skin, were it actually possible. “Hermione! How’d
you know...?”

            “I know things like this,” Hermione reminded him, then crossed her arms over the back of
the armchair. “Off to find Draco, are you?”

            “Well...” Harry drawled as he pulled off his cloak, wondering how best to answer.

            “I figured,” Hermione nodded, resting her chin on her crossed arms. “Five days are over,
you’re probably going to get desperate if you don’t go soon.”

            Harry blinked. “The book didn’t mention that.”

            “Not the one you read, I suppose not,” Hermione admitted. “But admit it, you kind of
have been doing whatever Draco wants you to, lately, and you realize that the more anxious
he gets to complete the mating, the more anxious you’re going to get. It’s only normal, well... it
would be, if male veelas were normal, which they aren’t.”

            “Right.” Harry blinked. “So, can I go?”

            “Well, I did want to ask you something first.” Hermione frowned thoughtfully. “Whatever
happened to dating Ginny? Are you really gay, or is this just a veela thing. I mean, it’s perfectly
all right if it is, I don’t think anyone is really able to resist a veela if they concentrate on them...”

            Harry paused, thinking about that for a moment. “I broke up with Ginny because it wasn’t
safe, and because... well... I just didn’t feel that crazy spark I did when I wasn’t dating her. It was
like she was only a great thing if I couldn’t have her, you know what I mean? And now... well,
she’s... she’s just too much like my sister, I guess. And about this whole Draco thing... well, I
was pretty obsessed with him, sixth year, wasn’t I?”

            “You did worry Ron a lot,” Hermione nodded. “I just noticed what he didn’t, which was
of course that you weren’t just normal obsessed, you were addicted. Which logically meant there
was more to it than just suspicion, and I was right - already then, he knew that you were the most
powerful wizard around, and he was unwittingly releasing pheromones on you, trying to sway
you over to him. It was really the only thing that made any sense.”

            Harry frowned, then slowly nodded. “Actually... that makes sense.”

            “Well,” Hermione laughed. “I wouldn’t keep Mr. Malfoy waiting, if I were you.”

            “Right, of course, got it!” Harry spluttered, suddenly flustered for no reason, and
scrambled to tug his invisibility cloak over himself, then he was out the door, and headed for the
dungeons.

~+~

            Harry had expected having to sneak into the Slytherin dorm. He was not expecting Draco
to be waiting in the hallway, to suddenly snatch him by the invisibility cloak he should have
not been able to see at all, and drag him out of the main hallway, into a dark side corridor.

            They had barely gotten off the main pathway when Harry found himself slammed against
the stone wall, cloak ripped off him, and Draco’s lips on his.

            Harry had thought maybe they could talk first, you know, figure out what was going on?
But apparently Draco had kicked that veela attraction up a few thousand notches, because Harry
absolutely turned to mush, opening his mouth and all but begging Draco’s tongue inside. Draco,
for his part, didn’t hesitate in answering that challenge, and Harry groaned in delight at the
feeling of a slick, got tongue against his, joining his in an erotic dance, letting him sample that
taste that was entirely Draco Malfoy for the first time.

            Draco pulled their lips apart suddenly, tracing his tongue down Harry’s neck, until he bit
down solidly into the collarbone. Harry gasped, clawing at Draco’s back, sure that he was ripping
open the wounds the nundu had made, but utterly unable to stop himself. “Oh.... god... Draco!”

            Those wicked lips traced the wound, then over to his other collar bone, where he bit down
again.

            Harry screamed this time, short and shuddering, then tightened his hold on Draco’s
shoulders. “Shouldn’t... shouldn’t we get... get out of the hall?”

            Draco still didn’t say anything, but did suddenly grab Harry by his ass and hike him up so
that the other was forced to wrap his legs around Draco’s waist just to keep from falling.
Gripping at Draco as tight as he could, Harry let Draco carry him down the hall, through some
door, then let out a gasp when abruptly, he was pushed back onto a bed.

            “Mine...” Draco hissed, speaking for the first time in five days, and tore at his own robes
that Harry had worn for the last five days, ripping them right off him, then his own, with equal
speed. Letting his hands trace over Harry’s torso, Draco melded their mouths together again, and
Harry groaned, deciding in that moment that if this was going to be the way the rest of his life
was going to be...

            Bring it on.

            Harry gasped, back arching sharply when Draco dropped his hips, grinding his pelvis into
Harry’s. He hadn’t even noticed, he’d been so distracted by the magic Draco was working on his
mouth, but he had never been this aroused or hard in his life, and if the distinct pressure on his
own erection was what he thought it was, Draco was equally as impressed with the situation.

            It was irrational, and Harry knew it, but he suddenly, completely and absolutely wanted
Draco inside of him. He wouldn’t have imagined he’d ever want anything like that, and in fact,
there was a little voice in the back of his head going “WTF mate?” but he absolutely and
completely wanted it. He wanted nothing more than to have the veela currently grinding their
erections together in such an amazing way he wouldn’t be surprised if it were illegal in some
more conservative country inside him, owning him completely.

            Fingernails raking down Draco’s back, Harry hissed, “Inside me, now...”

            He could just feel the smirk against his mouth, then Draco’s hand slid down under
Harry’s heavy balls, over the sensitive skin between, then a finger breached that most intimate of
places.

            Harry gasped, back arching. If he understood this thing properly, Draco should have had
to prepare him in some way, but he hadn’t... was this part of the ‘chemical changes’ the book had
mentioned, caused by the veela bodily secretions? That maybe his spit - they had exchanged
quite a bit by now - made this easy for... “Oh god Draco!” Harry screamed, when he realized that
while he’d been thinking something else had been happening, and suddenly the male veela was
buried to the hilt in him, which had triggered something inside him, and whatever it was.... “Do
that again!”

            “Yes...” Draco hissed, and true to his word, moved his hips back to draw back until only
the head was inside, then hammered home again.

            Whatever that thing was - and you and I, dear readers, know that it is called the prostate
and is a wonderful bundle of nerves inside - was triggered again, and Harry screamed, arching off
the bed. He had never felt anything so wonderful.

            Later, Harry could never say exactly how long they lasted. All he knew was that every
passing moment only felt better and better, until with a force he would not have ever imagined
could exist, Harry came hard and long, so hard he couldn’t breath for a few moments, could only
clutch breathlessly at Draco, mouth open in a silent scream.

            Draco hissed, and drove home one last time, screaming “MINE!”as he let loose his own
release, before collapsing on top of Harry.

            Harry was fairly sure he must have passed out, because when he opened his eyes, he was
lying curled up beside a quiet Draco Malfoy, he had been carefully wiped clean with a damp
cloth, and the veela was tracing soft patterns on his chest.

            “What happened?” Harry asked softly, sighing with contentment.

            “I just pounded you into the mattress,” Draco said, smirking. “So now you’re stuck with
me.”

            “Nice to hear you finally talk,” Harry said, smirking a little himself. “Want to explain for
me?”

            “I would imagine you’ve figured out I’m veela?”

            “That was fairly obvious,” Harry admitted. “Well, it was after Hermione pointed me in
the right direction.”

            Draco sat up sharply. “That’s illegal!”

            “She didn’t actually tell me,” Harry said firmly, paused, then grabbed Draco’s forearm
and dragged him back down. He’d actually missed his presence, for some odd reason. “So it’s all
right. But anyway, so yes, I know.”

            “I really had to be creative to come up with those proofs,” Draco moped, resting his sharp
chin on Harry’s shoulder. “It wasn’t like there was really anyone I could go to for advice on it...
my mum’s the Veela blood, and for female veelas, it’s just a matter of turn on the attraction, pick
the one who comes up with the most believable stories, and have sex. No fiddling and figuring,
and trying to come up with proofs for the most difficult to convince wizard of all time.” He
grumbled. “It’s a good thing I have the charm, or I never would have been able to bag myself a
Potter.”

            “Bag yourself a...” Harry spluttered for a moment, then burst out in hysterical laughter.
“Bag youself a... a Potter... oh Merlin...”

            Draco rolled his eyes. “Glad you think it’s amusing.”

            “Hey...” Harry paused, clutching his stomach, sore from laughter. “Why didn’t you talk to
me for five days? Not even when I asked questions?”

            “Ah.” Draco paused. “I’m not allowed to tell you what’s going on, for the same reason
Granger wasn’t allowed to tell you. It’s an old wizarding law that forbids the discussion of the
veela mating rituals while they are occurring. Makes things more difficult of course, because I
can’t just tell you what’s going on then, I have to wait until the five days are over before I can
explain. In some cases in the past, it’s actually led to the failure of the mating, because the mate
refused to just take things at face value.”

            “But you knew that that wouldn’t happen to you, of course,” Harry smirked.

            “Of course.” Draco smiled at him, a genuine smile, then brightened. “Oh - where is
Salazar?”

            Harry blinked. “What?”

            “Salazar. The crup puppy? He’s been with you constantly since I gave him to you... he
is all right, isn’t it?” Draco frowned at him.

            “Oh! Salazar!” Harry just shook his head. “Trust you to come up with such a
Slytherin name for a puppy. Heh. Yeah, he’s fine, he’s in my room, guarding my bed.”

            “Good. He managed to prove sufficiently to you that I can provide love for my children, I
assume?” Draco smirked, tracing his fingernails around Harry’s nipples, making the brunette
draw in a sharp breath.

            “Y-yes...” Harry nodded.

            “Good.” Draco snuggled in a little closer to him. “Because I fully intend to knock you up
the duff. Many times.”

            Harry blinked. “Say... what?”

            “Hope you don’t mind being preggers, Potter, because we are going to have lots of
children. I am sick of being one of far too many pureblood families with only one child. So the
Potters and the Malfoys are breaking with tradition, Harry. We’re going to be the next Weasley
family. All right with you?”

            Harry stared at Draco in disbelief. “Seriously?”

            Draco smirked. “Seriously.” He leaned down to kiss Harry again, and for a few moments,
they were lost in bliss, until Draco sat up a little, and smiled down at his breathless mate.

            “Just wait til you see the veela rituals for childbirth.”

~+~

Hope you like it! Whee!
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