Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor his friends nor his enemies.

A/N This chapter has been rewritten to fix the things left hanging when I rewrote the first two chapters.

Monday, Sept 2

The group walked silently together, each lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, they reached a part of the castle that was abandoned these days since the school no longer housed married couples and their families.

Snape, stalking in his normal fashion, came to an abrupt halt before a portrait of a young knight posing over a dead dragon, his armour shining in the sun. Making a face of distaste, Severus snapped out, "Love is like a red, red, rose," looking as if he had unexpectedly swallowed some Wolfbane.

Harry bit back a giggle, doing his best to school his face into a blank mask when Snape turned his head and glared at him, as if he was the one who had forced the Potions master to utter such a sappy phrase.

"It truly is," the knight exclaimed happily, removing his helmet and mopping his brow. "Why, just the other day I was telling the lovely Violet that very same thing, and she-"

"Yes, yes, now open the blasted door! Isn’t that your duty? Or are you incapable of doing even that simple task?" Snape ground out, interrupting what promised to be a long story. His black eyes were shooting daggers at the knight, who huffed and allowed his painting to swing open, revealing the doorway he had been guarding.

Clasping a hand before his mouth, Harry realised with horror that even the act of biting his cheek wasn’t enough to prevent himself from laughing, and he desperately turned his giggles into a fake cough. This turned into a real cough as he choked on his giggles. Merlin, but who ever had chosen that portrait to guard their room had not taken Snape into consideration. Vaguely wondering if it was possible to murder a painting, Harry followed the others inside, doing his best to catch his breath.

Severus gave him a gimlet eye, obviously suspecting what was going through Harry’s mind, and the black haired teen swiftly shifted his eyes away from the onyx ones that were promising him pain and retributions if the Potions master’s suspicions were proven true.

Taking a few steps to the side, under the pretext of taking in the living room, Harry finally managed to get his breathing back under control. That was a bit too close. At least he hasn’t taken any points yet. Then again, with McGonagall standing right next to me... Not that that has stopped him in the past, the greasy git!

Hmm, I wonder if Snape made that face at the knight or at the password. Both are hideous. I bet that knight was a Gryffindor! I wonder what happened to him? Maybe I will ask him one day. Harry mused absentmindedly, shaking his head at the truly horrible décor of the room. I can only hope that the rest of the rooms aren’t as hideous as this one. No way in hell will I be able to relax and enjoy myself in here! I wonder if Malfoy can change things around a bit?

And speaking of change, that password has got to be replaced at earliest opportunity! I mean, could they get any sappier? Or is it Dumbledore’s way of trying to give me a hint or two? Then again, the way he was practically ordering me to jump into Draco’s bed...

Feeling a stirring in the air, Harry figured that now was not the time to consider the Headmaster and his plots. He would do that later, in private, when he had far less prying eyes watching his every move.

Returning his focus on his surroundings, Harry sighed and spoke up for the first time since leaving the Headmaster’s office. "I trust Malfoy and I will be able to change things around in here? I mean, who ever did the decorating in here tried way too hard to unite the four houses." Harry made a sweeping gesture with his arm, taking in the orange coloured furniture, the green coloured textiles of the tapestries decorating the walls. The throw pillows on the sofa and the armchairs were blue, and the rug on the floor was a vibrant red, making Harry feel as if he was standing on a fire.

And with Malfoy here, I bet there is a ward to make sure the Headmaster can’t pop in whenever he likes. Hmm, maybe bonding with Malfoy will have some benefits after all. Now, if he only wasn’t such a spoilt brat, this disaster might be less disastrous than I thought. Feeling immensely cheered up, Harry began to wander around to better take in his new home.

"Oh my," Minerva murmured before gathering herself with a small shake of her head. "This is obviously the sitting area. Over there, Harry dear, is your room. It is warded so Mr. Malfoy can’t enter it unless you specifically invite him to do so. It is for your own protection, as a Veela can sometimes get... intense in their courtship."

Harry snorted and Draco looked highly insulted.

"Your rooms, Mr. Malfoy, are up those stairs. Both rooms have their own private bathroom, which should make it easy for you to get ready in the morning. You will be excused from classes for the next three days, of course, since you need the solitude to start the bonding process." McGonagall looked over at Harry, the frown on her forehead implying that she was worried.

"Harry, I am not sure how much you know about Veelas since, admittedly, our Defence professors have been somewhat... lacking these past few years," McGonagall said carefully, ignoring the snort coming from Snape. "I advice you to find out as much as possible so that unnecessary strain on your relationship can be avoided. I am positive that Miss Granger will be only too happy to help you with that. As will Mr. Malfoy, I’m sure," McGonagall added, giving Draco a small, somewhat insincere smile. It was clear that she figured that Draco would lie to his mate just to get his own way.

Draco bristled but refrained from saying anything. The hand his father placed on his arm did a lot to help still his tongue. Harry frowned, glancing between Draco and McGonagall. He really did lack knowledge about Veelas. What little he did know he had learned during his fourth year when Hermione had lectured him and Ron on them after seeing the magical creatures at the World Cup. She had expanded the lecturing when Fleur Delacour had descended on the school, causing Ron to behave in a most embarrassing manner, constantly drooling whenever the girl got near, much to Hermione’s disgust.

However, this was different. First of all, Draco was obviously a male, not a female. And second, Harry was Draco’s mate, and as such he really needed to find out as much as possible about what to expect.

Suddenly Harry realised that his Head of House was speaking again, and he swiftly turned his attention from Malfoy and onto McGonagall, hoping that no one had noted his lack of attention.

"You will need to discuss your schedule while in seclusion. I am aware that the two of you have several classes the other did not select when you signed the list of available subjects. Since this concerns your future, I expect you to make the necessary adjustments. Please consider carefully, this offer will not be made again," McGonagall said, giving the two teens a stern look, causing Draco to bristle once more and Harry felt his own temper begin to stir. Merlin, did they have to treat him like an errant five-year old?

"You are also expected to eat at least two meals every day in the Great Hall. As your teachers, we are aware of the fact that the student body probably will put a strain on your bond. However, we are positive that if you use your alone time wisely that strain can be minimized, allowing you to function normally when dealing with your friends and year mates. If you have any questions, please come and see me or Severus." McGonagall gave Draco a stern look, which softened when it fell on Harry to almost become motherly. With a sharp nod to the older Malfoy she left them to settle in.

Harry looked slowly around the sitting area once more before walking over to his room. Flinging the door open, he shuddered at the sight meeting him. The bedroom was more Gryffindorish than the Gryffindor common room, a feat he thought impossible. Looking over his shoulder, he addressed the only professor left. "Sir, is it possible to change the... décor of this place?"

"Yes, it is. You are able to do just about anything within these rooms," Snape replied, curious about the revulsion he had seen on the boy’s face. Maybe there was hope for Draco after all.

"Good. Professor, Mr. Malfoy, Draco, why don’t the three of you change the colour schemes to something more tasteful? There is no need to use red or gold on my account, although there is no need to go overboard with the green and silver either," Harry added with a small grin to show that he was teasing.

"And please, could someone do something about the hideous colour-scheme in there?" Harry asked, indicating his bedroom with a jerk of his head. "I don’t know who did the decorating in there, but they have had to be even more colour-blind that Dobby is; something I didn’t think possible. Then again, considering what a hash they did with the living room, I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised." Harry fell silent for a moment, once again wondering if it was possible for Dumbledore to Apparate inside Hogwarts. That would explain how he always managed to appear at just the right moment.

Shaking his musing off, he really did not want to think about Dumbledore right now, Harry went back to the business at hand. "Something in blue and cream would be nice, I think," he said, trying to look past the abundance of red and gold to take in what furniture was present in the bedroom.

However, upon seeing the large four poster bed sitting so prominently against one of the walls, all the anger and resentment he harboured against Dumbledore slammed into him, and for a moment Harry feared that he was about to lose all control. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, the black haired teen focused on his breathing, momentarily blocking everything from his conscious mind.

Once he was certain that he wouldn’t blow anything up, Harry re-opened his eyes and started to head towards the door. He needed to get out of here, now! Before things were revealed that he had no intention of revealing. Especially not to his present company.

"I will be back shortly, there is something I need to do. Don’t worry, I won’t be gone for long, Harry said, pausing in the doorway. “By the way, that password has got to go!" he added, knowing that he needed to tell the others something.

"Where will you be?" Draco asked, concerned about the things he was picking up in his mate’s scent. If he was not mistaken, the other youth was bloody furious. However, the emotions were not directed towards either himself or his father.

For a moment the Veela was puzzled as to who could have angered the other teen so much. Then he knew. Albus Dumbledore! What in the world had the Headmaster said to Potter? For that matter, wasn’t the two of them really close? That was the impression Draco had gotten from the past five years. Then again, the previous year had been decidedly... odd.

Harry looked back at the blond. "Don’t worry, I’m not running away or anything. I just need to do something. I will be back shortly, and then I think we need to talk. Mr. Malfoy, I hope you have time to remain for a little while?" Harry belatedly asked, looking over at Lucius, suddenly realising that maybe the older Malfoy had pressing business elsewhere.

"Do not worry, Mr. Potter, I will still be here when you return," Lucius said, feeling both curious and perplexed. The Boy Who Lived did not act as he had thought he would when faced with the fact that he was destined to be bonded with his enemy. Clearly, there was more to the boy than met the eye.

"Thank you. Ah, yes. Is there by any chance a way to keep nosy old men out unless they are invited? I would hate to have unwanted guests popping in at odd times, wouldn’t you?" Harry asked innocently before finally leaving, the portrait swinging closed behind him.

"I’m going after him," Draco declared, not wanting to let his mate out of his sight. That desire was coupled with the need to see what the other boy was up to. Hurriedly, the Veela climbed through the portal hole just in time to see a door fall close with a bang a bit further down the corridor. Curious as to what in the world Potter needed to do inside an old, abandoned room, Draco pulled the door opened and found himself facing a wand, it’s tip glowing eerily.

"Malfoy!" Harry growled in frustration.

"Potter," Draco smirked in reply. "Don’t let me disturb you. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

Harry shrugged and turned away. "I’m not in the mood for one our arguments right now, Malfoy. Please leave."

The soft spoken ‘please’ almost made Draco leave. However, his concern for his mate’s state of mind made it easy to squash his urge to comply with Harry’s wishes. "I’m sorry, Harry, but until I know that you are alright, I’m not leaving. What is it you need to do anyway?" Draco asked, looking around the dusty old room, which apparently at one time had been a classroom of some sort.

Harry, realising that he truly didn’t have the energy or the control to continue to argue with the blond thorn in his side, shrugged once more. "If you’re going to stay, I suggest you put up the strongest shield you know," he said. And with that as an only warning, Harry pointed his wand at an old desk and blasted it with the most powerful Reducto Draco had ever felt.

One by one the old furniture came to a messy end while Harry vented his temper. When there was nothing left to smash, he conjured several tea sets and set about pulverising them in the most imaginative ways he could think of.

More than an hour had passed when Harry finally slumped to the floor, panting and feeling utterly drained. Draco dropped his shield - he had needed it - and hurried to his mate‘s side to offer support and aid. His human side was impressed by the sheer knowledge and imagination of his intended. Not once had Harry made use of the Dark Arts, and he had rarely used the same spell twice. The Veela in him was ecstatic at the power of his mate and it couldn’t wait for the two of them to bond.

Draco hauled Harry to his feet while ruthlessly pushing that desire away. Now was not the time for such thoughts. He was more concerned with finding out what had set his mate off in such a manner. If his suspicions were right and it was Dumbledore who had caused this in some manner, then the old man would learn first hand why it was a very bad idea to mess around with a Veela’s mate.

Because that was what Harry was now. He was the mate of one Draco Malfoy, and Draco had every intention of making the entire world aware of that fact. Harry Potter was his now. His to protect. His to cherish. Rue those who hurt Harry in anyway, form or shape. Those who did would feel the full wrath of Draconus Malfoy, and miscreants would find out that there was a reason the Malfoy name was feared by most. Even by the Dark Lord.

Draco smirked, he couldn’t wait. He had a feeling that neither the stupid Mudblood nor the Weasel was in Harry’s good grace anymore, and Draco would enjoy putting them in their place. Ah, yes. Revenge would be sweet, very sweet indeed.