The second half of this (heavily edited) story. Please enjoy!
"That was extremely unnecessary, Malfoy."
Harry rubbed the bruise just below his eye, a disgruntled expression directed at the blonde. He'd had an unfortunate encounter with Malfoy's fist after a rather detailed description of the mating. Really, he'd only wanted to help, so that maybe the blonde wouldn't be so shocked when it came down to it, but he admitted that he might've had an ulterior motive in pissing Draco off. Or maybe just embarrassing him further, he hadn't decided yet; he just knew that it was fun to antagonize the blonde. Still, he probably wouldn't be indulging in that hobby much more. Draco's punches packed quite a bit of punch.
"Oh, yes, unnecessary, you pervert," Draco seethed, his cheeks still slightly pink, sitting with his knees up to his chest in an attempt to hide his harder-than-ever arousal. Harry didn't blame him; he himself felt quite exposed sitting there on the edge of his bed the way he was. Besides which, it was kind of starting to hurt.
"I'm sorry?" Harry offered. "Just trying to have a bit of fun. You looked so miserable over there, I thought a lovely description of your ass would brighten your day a bit." Draco rolled his eyes, but he did seem a bit less broody. "I was joking, for the most part."
"The most part," Draco repeated disbelievingly and Harry had to smirk just a little bit.
"Why, you innocent little thing," Harry snickered. "Yeah, a bit. The bit about you growing a vagina? That was a complete joke. I don't think that's possible, in any type of creature." Draco blushed a bit again, but didn't move to hit Harry again, which the brunette considered a good thing.
"Well, I knew that was bullshit," Draco sniffed. "I also don't think I'm going to grow tits, either, if you're about to tack that on." Harry almost laughed at the return of Draco's wit, but as it was, he did laugh at what he said.
"I wasn't going to, but now that I think about it, it would be kind of funny," he teased and Draco rolled his eyes, brushing a strand of blonde hair out of his eyes. "Don't think of it as such a bad thing, though. I mean, c'mon, it could be a lot worse. It could be me."
Draco's glare was enough to kill anyone, and Harry thanked the lord that it didn't. It would have really sucked to make it through that punch only to die from a glare.
"But, hey, Malfoy, don't worry about it," he said quickly, though he couldn't help snickering some more at Malfoy's reaction. "It doesn't have to be me, after all. Just find a reasonably good-looking bloke who has a kink for veela and you'll be good," he suggested, still chuckling slightly. He gave the brunette a flat expression and Harry just smiled. "I'm sorry, for what it's worth, that you have to go through this.
"Just call me Draco."
Harry looked at him in surprise, and the blonde happened to look up from the hem of his slacks to see Harry's gob smacked expression. "'Malfoy' reminds me too much of my father," he muttered. "Love him and all that, but…" He made a face. "Let's say I'm my own person and leave it at that.
"Okay…" he said slowly before grinning. "Then call me Harry. And could you do me the favor and get rid of the 'Potter Stinks' badges?"
Draco surprised him again by giving him a wide, easy smile. "You couldn't pay me enough to get rid of them, rubbish or not!" His eyes glittered with good humor and Harry sighed in relief as the mood turned to a much lighter air. "It's far easier to tease you with a flick of a badge than pulling something witty out of my repertoire, no matter how vast it is, after all." Harry snorted, but his grin stayed.
"I still don't see why you have so much fun teasing me, though," Harry said with a curious expression. "It doesn't improve your reputation or anything. Just seems like a heap of fun to you, and I don't get it."
"How else should I react around the Golden Boy?" he said with a haughty look. "Do you expect me to suck up to you? You couldn't pay me enough to become another Potter-obsessed bint." Harry laughed at the way he put it, admitting that it may have been more or less true; he had more than enough fans after the war that it had gotten a little ridiculous. "And after I completely fucked up the chance to be friends with you by insulting Hagrid at Madam Malkin's… I didn't see anyway to keep your attention." He shrugged.
Harry stared at him, astounded. What had this whole veela thing done to the blonde? Had he really just admitted to wanting to be friends… and was it just him or was that regret in his voice? Draco looked up at him timidly. "You didn't completely fuck up the chance to be friends," he managed to say without sounding like he'd just been jolted with a taser. "All you had to do is apologize, though it seems a bit late now."
"I'm sorry?" All right, that was the second time he'd heard Malfoy apologize, and this was just as sincere as the first time, though a little less downcast. "I just… I suppose I was trying to impress you. I only knew what father had told me, then… never my own opinions, or my own ideas. I was only eleven."
Harry shrugged, still a bit stunned. "That's why I'm saying it's fine. I appreciate the apology and all."
Draco was quiet for a few minutes more before he sighed and blurted out, "So, are we friends now?" When Harry didn't answer right away, he added, "We could at least try to be, you know."
Harry nodded, positive that the talk of their history had calmed his erection down enough (thankfully, it was barely noticeable now), and walked over, extending a hand to the blonde, who took it with awe in his eyes.
*(A week later)*
Hermione didn't react to hearing Draco's voice, but that was probably because she looked like she was already under the influence of a body-bind with her stiff posture and deer-in-the-headlights expression. Ron, next to her with an arm around her shoulders, was appeared to be hyperventilating.
"See, veela," Harry attempted with a weak smile. "Never heard him sound more inhuman, right? And all of his stuff got brought up, so it's kind of a permanent thing, I think… not that there's much of school left anyway, of course…" He wanted to groan at his own stupidity. He wasn't sure if his friends were going to make it through the shock.
"Harry! Can I please come out now, you sodding jailer?" Harry growled, sending the door to his room a dark look. Was the blonde incapable of shutting up for five minutes? Apparently not, because there was another whine of his name in the typical Draco fashion.
"Draco, did I not say 'wait until I get them calmed down'?" He was under the impression he had, several times, actually. "Why must you always—"
"Don't give me that—do you have any idea how cramped it is in here, you buffoon? I feel completely stifled!"
"It's huge!" Harry called back. "How in the name of Merlin do you feel cramped?"
"You try living in here twenty-four hours a day, seven days a bloody week, and see if you wouldn't like to venture outside once and a while!" Draco snapped and banged on the door again.
Harry threw his hands in the air in exasperation, casting a silent alohamora at the door, hearing the click as it unlocked. "Well? Come on, you git. You're driving me mad bitching up there!"
It took less than a second for Draco to burst out, the door hitting the wall with a bang that he ignored studiously. He grinned at Harry with a smug expression. "I knew I could wear you down," he crowed in his musical voice and Hermione's eyes flew from her brunette friend to Draco, becoming animated only long enough to form her features in a way that made perfectly obvious how taken aback she was. Ron was still trying to control his breathing, however.
Harry hated to admit it, but Draco had gotten even more gorgeous in the last week. His pale, silver-gold hair had grown to his shoulders, which I tied for him every morning in a tight rubber band because he was either to lazy to do himself, or because he liked people playing with his hair too much to pass up the opportunity. Harry figured it was a mixture of the two, and did it without complaint. His eyes had gotten larger, ever so slightly, in a way that made them even more mesmerizing, as if he needed them to be intoxicating, which he certainly did not. His appearance—shirtless, dressed only in a pair of jeans stolen from Harry's closet—probably didn't help matters, overly exposed from waist up, silvery skin shimmering as the light hit it. His wings had grown out, still not quite big enough to hold him in the air, but large enough that they easily caught his friend's attention without trying.
Draco walked over calmly, though his limbs were twitching slightly in a way that made Harry perfectly aware of how elated he was to be out of their room and took the seat next to Harry on the cough, grinning at him. The brunette gave him an annoyed look but Draco just laughed at him and said, "It's good to be free, Harry."
"The house elves haven't put anything in your food, have they?" Harry asked scathingly, a bit put out by his unusually good mood. He squirmed, winding up with his head on the brunette's lap as he played with the ponytail that fell over his shoulders, his eyes meeting Harry's. Harry found it difficult to be irritated with him when he was so cheery, those grey eyes filled with mirth.
"I wouldn't know," Draco laughed. "Maybe I'm just hyper from being free." He said the word dramatically and with the arm not trapped between his body and the cough, made a wide sweeping gesture toward the common room facing them. "Not that this is better. Too Gryffindor."
Harry laughed. "That's a bit of a relief; I thought he'd killed the real Malfoy," he said to Ron in an attempted to bring him out of whatever funk Harry had unintentionally put him into. Draco just snorted and sat up.
"You act like you'd prefer it if I were a complete asshole to you," he accused playfully, smacking the brunette on the shoulder lightly. Harry just laughed at him, making the blonde join in after a second of sulking.
Hermione appeared to have melted from her ice sculpture imitation, her calculating gaze on the two of them for a mere moment before a smile turned her lips upward smugly. Harry noticed the smile, though for the life of him couldn't figure out what had brought it on. He didn't have time to bring it up before Draco yawned loudly, sitting up and resting his head on the brunette's shoulder.
"Harry, I'm tired." Of course he was—but then, Harry didn't blame him. He hadn't slept much the night before, excited about Harry's plans to tell his friends and therefore, give him a bit more freedom from their bedroom, and it was rather late besides, after dinner.
Harry nodded, turning to his friends to say goodnight. Draco couldn't sleep alone without the help of a potion, and Madam Pomfrey had told him excessive use of the potion was probably a bad idea. He didn't mind, really; Draco had a schedule very similar to his own, and besides which, sleeping next to Draco was a pleasant experience. He always got the sleep much quicker when the blonde was with him.
"I'll see you guys tomorrow," he said to Hermione—who was still smirking—and Ron, who was choking again. Harry took hold of Draco's upper arm to get him upright, then slid an arm over his shoulders, letting him lean against the brunette's body. When he got tired, he crashed, and wouldn't tell Harry he was tired until he was close to the point of falling asleep on his feet.
Harry ended up carrying the far lazier blonde into their room, setting him down on the edge of the bed and snagging the jeans he kicked off and tossing them into a laundry basket the elves had given them. The pants disappeared immediately before reappearing on top of the dresser, folded and clean.
In only his boxers, which he'd taken in sleeping in, Draco slid under the covers, looking up at the brunette with a little yawn, who was still undressing until he stood in a pair of black boxers himself.
"C'mon, Harry, cold little veela here," he whined from the bed. Harry rolled his eyes, tossing his own clothes into the hamper and walked over, getting under the covers quickly enough. Draco latched onto him, practically curling up on his chest.
"Draco, I thought you wanted to sleep."
Draco pouted at him, resting his chin on Harry's chest as he looked up at the brunette. "I want to sleep and talk. You realize we haven't really talked about anything except classes and how we're going to tell your friends about me. I barely know anything about you." We're… Harry decided he liked that more than he probably should.
"Draco, what could you possibly want to know? Besides the fact that I'm three inches taller than you and that I've defeated Voldemort, which I assume you're already quite aware of." He giggled a bit, resting his body against Harry's, which wasn't much of a problem. It had been an unexpected growth spurt that had put him at a surprising six foot as opposed to Draco's five-eleven, but a welcome one.
"What do you like to do?" he asked contentedly and Harry thought about it.
"Wizard chess," he answered, shrugging. "Going to Hogsmead. Lately, pissing you off." Draco rolled his eyes.
"The Beatles, actually," he replied. "I don't know what it is about them, but their music is great."
"But they're muggles!" Draco protested.
"So?" Harry said with a roll of the eyes. "They have good music, and that's all that matters to me. Have you even listened to them before?" Draco sulked, which was hard to do with every ridge of his body pressed against Harry's own.
"Music playlist on your iPod?" Draco asked, changing the subject. He'd gotten one from Draco as a Christmas present, which just happened to fall in the middle of their confinement. It had surprised him, seeing as normally Draco was completely opposed to muggle technology.
"I dunno. Maybe the one you made for me. I was surprised to find I actually like all the music on there."
He laughed. "I don't think I've ever watched enough TV to have a favorite actor," he answered, making the blonde chuckle. "If I did, though, he'd be one of those stupid-funny blokes, though. They always crack me up." Draco really laughed then, saying something about how he 'should have known'.
"I really like you, Harry," Draco exclaimed before he blushed realizing what he had said and pulled away a bit, clapping his hand over his mouth, his ivory cheeks turning crimson. "I mean—like a f-friend, of course I don't—"
It was a split-second decision, one that Harry was pretty sure took the both of them off guard. He reached down, pulling Draco up his body and claimed his lips quickly and without hesitation. Draco was stock-still for a second before he realized what was happening and relaxed into Harry's chest, moaning as he opened his mouth to Harry's questioning tongue.
Harry couldn't explain what had possessed him to do what he had—it wasn't purely lust, but it was more backed by a need. Hearing that Draco had even the vaguest of interests in him took him off guard, released his inner desires, things he'd been contemplating since that first night.
"Harry," he gasped as the brunette rolled on top of him, their groins in contact for the first time in a sexual way and somehow Draco squirmed enough to free his legs sliding them over Harry's hips and locking them behind his back, his arms sliding up to lock in a similar fashion behind Harry's head. "Oh, god," he breathed as Harry's lips moved to his neck, licking a stripe up the pale, glimmering column before kissing down it and settling at a spot just under his ear, sucking hard.
"Harry," Draco groaned, bucking his hips against Harry's in a way that made him growl from the back of his throat in need. "Harry!" One calloused finger pressed against the blonde's entrance through his boxers, making him cry out in surprise. Harry, too, was surprised to find the area wet, the small hole twitching eagerly. A smirk curved his lips upward.
"My, my," Harry whispered against the hollow of his throat. "I never guessed being a veela would be so useful. Can you feel how wet you are? And so quickly." If he'd been thinking rationally, he might have been surprised at the words coming out of his mouth.
"Oh, god," Draco gasped as Harry slid a finger into his boxers, pressing the tip of it into his entrance slowly. He smiled as Draco's breath came out a little bit heavier. The blonde whined as Harry pulled away enough to slide Draco's boxer's off, then his own, the sight making Draco groan all on it's own.
Draco re-wrapped his legs around Harry's waist as that finger was back, pressing into him more fully, finding little restraint in its way, though Harry was pleased to find that though unresisting, Draco's passage was tight… and eager, as it sucked in yet another finger.
Draco moaned, though Harry was sure it had to be a little uncomfortable. It didn't seem to matter, though, as Harry searched for that little button—
"Harry!" There it was, he thought smugly, and while he was distracted, he entered the third finger. Still, Draco didn't really seem to notice.
"Now?" he whispered against Draco's jaw and the blonde nodded desperately.
"Please, Harry, please," he pleaded, placing small kisses all over his face. "Please…" Harry wondered vaguely if Draco would always be such a vocal lover and decided that if they stayed together (he felt selfish for wishing that Draco's mate never be found), he hoped that Draco would be. The Malfoy's pretty little noises were turning him on further, to be honest—even the short scream Draco let out when he pushed his entire length inside the warm, dripping cavern that had been calling to him since his finger had found it.
He had repositioned them, his hands pushing Draco's knees against his chest as he ground into him, making the blonde gasp ever so loudly, almost sobbing in relief. "God, need you, need more," Draco babbled, almost incoherent, and Harry happily obliged, setting a quick pace that had them both on the edge.
Harry wasn't surprised or ashamed when he came not five minutes later because it was shortly preceded by a hoarse cry from Draco as the blonde came messily, all over their stomachs. To stifle his own cry, he bit down lightly on Draco's neck. Exhausted, he pulled out and flopped down next to the blonde to catch his breath.
"I'm sorry," he panted. "That was totally out of nowhere."
"Don't be," Draco whispered, curling up into Harry's side, pressing his lips into the brunette's shoulder. Harry just smiled against the blonde's temple and stroked his hair until they both fell asleep.
*(the next morning)*
He sat up at the shocked exclamation, wincing as his still-tired body protested. He looked over to find that Draco was sitting up as well… but strangely enough, under the covers.
"Draco, what are you doing?" he asked, trying to pull the sheets off of the blonde who resisted and continued to do so for several minutes before Harry finally succeeded in ripping them away. He sat back on his ass in shock at what he saw.
Draco sat there miserably, his hair grown long enough to hang around his waist, his grey eyes staring up at him. He was obviously upset and his wings, which ruffled behind him as if to say 'look at me', had grown at least another foot. His hair was still visibly growing and his skin flashed from its recent silvery sheen to the ivory he was used to, then back again.
"Harry, what do I do?" he cried, distressed. Reaching out with no clue what to do for him, Harry cupped his face and the minute their skin touched, everything settled.
With a bright flash of light, his skin settled on its pale cream, utterly normal, all hints of its recent silvery hue gone. His wings were gone, his silver eyes returning to a soft grey. His white-blonde hair remained long, but then again, not much had changed about it, anyway, beside the growth.
"That you are finally a fully adult veela, able to use glamours—congratulations, Mr. Malfoy."
Both teenagers jumped, heads whipping around to face Professor McGonagall, who stood leaning against the wall with a curious expression. Blushing, the both pulled the sheet up to cover them and the woman rolled her eyes.
"Professor!" Harry said quickly. "What happened, do you know?" Roughly translated, it was obvious his question meant, explain! Now!
McGonagall snorted at them. "I do believe it's quite obvious, though it was necessary to hide at the time, before you start complaining. You, Mr. Potter…" She gestured to the two of them. "Happen to be Mr. Malfoy's mate."
Harry sighed. At this point, it was better to just expect the unexpected because it all seemed to be coming true lately. Harry eyed Draco, whose ears had turned red. "And why didn't you tell me?" Draco cried. "Wouldn't that have been good information for me to have?"
"Or me," Harry added, nudging Draco in the ribs, who nodded without really looking at him.
McGonagall threw her hands in the air. "Do you really think you could have not strangled each other right away if we'd told you?" she asked incredulously. "Besides which, it's always better to let mating relationships work out on their own. It saves us the trouble of dealing with it when the two deny it and don't let anything happen before it can even begin." She gave them a look that told them not to argue and they didn't, though Harry rolled his eyes, his arms coming to wrap around Draco loosely.
"Whatever." She looked slightly irritated at Harry's muttered response, but her expression softened when she noticed Harry kiss the back of Draco's neck softly.
"I'm leaving," she announced when she noticed a hand moving under the sheets. "But keep in mind. I expect you both back in class today."
They both groaned and she left with a smirk, considering the whole ordeal successful.
"Do you mind, Harry," Draco asked quietly when she left. "That you're my mate?" He tacked on the last part when Harry gave him a confused look, but at his addition, Harry rolled his eyes.
"You're so paranoid," he said, leaning down to whisper the words against his lips. "No. I don't mind. As a matter of fact… I'm glad it's me. I might've had to kill whoever really was if it wasn't."
Draco smiled, and pulled him in for a kiss.
It's not my best work, but I do think it's pretty good—at the very least, a damn sight better than it used to be! I hope you all enjoyed it!