Chapter Eleven

Wednesday 2 September 1998

Draco

As soon as they break for lunch, I turn to Blaise.

"Can I go back to my dorm please?" Blaise  frowns.

"I don't want you to be alone." I don't like making him upset, and I want to obey him. But being here, surrounded by people staring at me and mumbling about me is stifling. I can't stand being here a moment longer.

"Please, I can't be here... there's too many people, I can't, please Blaise..." He doesn't look happy, and it makes me feel slightly sick. But he nods, and as soon as he does I leave, practically running out of the hall.

I make my way as quickly as possible to the Slytherin common room. No one's in there; everyone's just leaving class for lunch; so there's no one to see me starting to break down. And honestly, thank Merlin for that. I don't need people thinking worse of me than they already do.

I can feel you getting more and more unstable too, which makes me feel even worse. Your emotions only add to mine, and make me feel guilty. If you were someone else's Veela...

No, Draco, no, no.

You're obviously too upset for cohesive thoughts, but I get the message, even if I don't agree with you.

Need... need mate. Want them here, please, find them, hurts...

And it does hurt. It's always there, at the back of my mind. A dull ache that has definitely got worse since my inheritance, but so slowly I hadn't noticed it until now. I do want my mate. I really, really do. But I can't have them, and it breaks my heart.

You whine, but don't comment.

I stumble up the stairs to the dormitories, and by the time I fall (rather ungracefully) into my bed, tears are falling down my cheeks and choked sobs are working their way out of my mouth. I clutch my pillow to my face, and I inexplicably wish it smelled like my mate.

I try to breathe, but the air feels like it's cut off from my lungs, which are burning. I know I'm panicking, but I can't stop, because the word sub is echoing around my head again, and everyone knows. And based off the firsties' reactions, it won't be taken well. I'll be pushed around and called names, and everyone will hate me, including my mate. Fuck, when they find out who I am...

The door opens, and Blaise's scent fills the room; the overpowering scent of a dominant. My head snaps up of its own accord, and my body works its way into a submissive position.

"Draco..." he says, his voice full of pity. I hate it. I don't know what I want, but it isn't his comfort. That's for my mate to give me. I try to push the thought from my head. I don't need my mate. But nevertheless, I don't want Blaise to try to comfort me. And even if I don't know what I do want, he seems to.

"Sub," he growls, and I whimper in response. I realise it isn't him anymore; he gave his Veela control. "Come." I scramble towards him and sit at his feet. "Good sub." He begins to pet me, stroking my hair, and I chirp subconsciously. "Breathe, sub." At his order, I find myself able to take the deep breath I had been trying to take before. "Good, now relax." I let the tension leave my shoulders. "Look at me." He lifts my chin, and I let my eyes drift to his. "Tell me what's wrong." The words fall out of my mouth before I even understand his order.

"Everyone knows."

"That you're a sub?" I nod. "Why does that upset you?"

"They... they'll judge me, like the first years, and everyone h-hates m-me bec-cause I was a d-death eater... no one was mean b-because they were scared of m-me, b-but now... now I'm pathetic."

"Oh, Draco. It's going to be okay. I'll protect you, I won't let anyone hurt you or talk shit about you, and if they do I'll give them scars that'll never fade. And you are not pathetic. You're so good, such a good sub, look at you." I can't help but chirp happily at his words. "There you go, see? It's going to be okay." I don't quite believe him, but I nod, if only to make him happy. "Want to come down for lunch?" No, absolutely not, I think, shaking my head vigorously. Too many people, too many who know. "Okay, I'll grab something for you."

"Thank you," I say quietly. He nods, running a hand through my hair. "What-what is your name?" He looks happy, and I realise it's because I noticed he wasn't Blaise.

"Mateo. I'll be back soon." At that, he leaves. I exhale deeply. Thank Merlin for Blaise, and Mateo. I didn't know I had become so reliant on my uncle's dominant nature during the summer, and how much I needed a dominant's presence in my life. Once again, I feel my mood drop as I realise how much I want my mate, but can never have them.

I get back in bed, not before adjusting my pillows and comforter into the vague shape of a nest, and curl up, clutching a pillow to my chest. After a few minutes Blaise comes back and we eat together in a comfortable silence. After we do, he suggests I take a nap, and even though I want to protest I can already feel my eyelids drooping; probably why he suggested it.

"Thank you," I murmur.

"Of course. You're my best friend, Draco. I care about you." And I fall asleep.

I realise almost immediately I'm in a mate dream, if only for the scent that ebbs through the air. I can't deny that my mate smells amazing. I can't place all of it, but there's cinnamon and broom polish, layered with the typically dominant earthy scent, stronger even than Blaise's. It's all I can do not to run to them, but I can't. I can't.

My mate retains the same shadowy appearance they have in my previous dreams, but this time I can tell their build. And, as expected, he's a male. Of course he is, like my mother said, it's unlikely for a male submissive to be mated with a female dominant. And, to be honest, that's not what I wanted. But being gay will just be another thing to be ridiculed over.

He takes a step towards me and I take one back, because if I go to him I will just fall further. And if I do that, it will hurt even more when he rejects me.

"Mate," he says, his voice nondescript, but simultaneously pleading and demanding. I can't help but whimper, and he sways towards me at the sound. "Please." I want so badly to go to him. It's like his voice is a tide, pulling me away from shore, away from safety. I can't let it.

I shake my head, forcing myself to look away from him. He growls, and it makes my knees shake.

"Mate, come here." It's not a request this time, it's a demand, and I can't resist it. I practically fall into his arms, and he immediately pulls me into his chest and wraps his arms around me. I feel safe, and I can't help but wish I could stay here forever. His scent engulfs me and I take in lungfuls of it, letting it calm me down. But then he pulls away from me, holding me at arms length. I try to look away from him, thankful he can't see me blush, but he tilts my chin back up to face him.

"Talk to me, please. Why-" he seems to choke on his words. "Can't ask questions, okay. You don't want to come to me. Tell me why."

"You'll hate me." The words are a whisper, pulled out of my mouth by his command before I can decide whether or not to say them.

"I could never hate you, mate." His words are full of sorrow. "You are mine. I could never hate you, why... Tell me why you think that."

"Because I'm..." the dream won't let me say who I am, and I'm grateful. I don't want to reveal myself, because if I do he'll pull away from me. But I have to answer him, I can't disobey my mate, but the dream won't let me and I can't and he'll hate me because I didn't do what he asks, oh Merlin how-

"Sh, calm down, it's okay, I've got you. I'm guessing that the dream won't let you say." I shake my head, glad he understands. "That's fine, I'm not mad at you. You're so good, I'm so proud of you for trying." His words make me feel boneless, and I sag against him. Praise coming out of his mouth sounds like a siren's song. I want to hear it forever. "Whatever you were going to say, just know I could never hate you."

"Don't say that." Don't give me hope, because if you do it will get crushed. But then I realise that I told my mate, my dominant, what to do.

Mate, mine, I gave... order... fuck, fuck, fuck, I can't, no no no no no no no...

Please, sorry, mate, please, I didn't mean... I didn't want... Mate, sorry, sorry, sorry, so, so, so sorry, please, forgive, I didn't mean to... please...

I can't, I can't breathe, I can't speak but I try because I just told my mate, my dom, mine, what to do, I gave him an order and I can't do that because I'm not allowed because he's my mate and my dom and I'm his sub and he will hate me now because I said the wrong thing and I have to say sorry but if I fuck up again he'll hate me more and I can't do that because he's my mate and I'm his sub and he has to like me because if he doesn't I'll die.

I'll die.

But I don't. I don't, because suddenly his arms are around me, and I'm grounded again. I didn't realise I had sunk to the floor, or that my knees were tucked under my chin, or that my cheeks were wet and throat was sore. I didn't realise my mate was talking to me. And suddenly the fear comes back, because my mate was speaking and I wasn't listening, but then I hear what he's saying and it goes away again.

"Sh, sh, it's okay, you're okay. I'm not mad, I promise, I understand, I've got you, you're okay. You're so good, my mate, my sub, so good. I've got you, you're okay. Everything's alright, mate mine. Everything's alright."

I take a shaky breath, willing myself to stop crying, and once my mate realises I'm calming down he pulls me into his lap, against his chest, and I let myself relax against it, ignoring the voice in the back of my mind telling me I can't get too close. Instead I inhale deep lungfuls of his scent, nuzzling my face against the scent gland in his neck, and let him stroke my hair.

"I'm s-sorry."

"Don't be."

"B-but I..." I stop myself, scared that if I remind him what I did he'll realise how bad it really was and be angry.

"It's okay, go ahead."

"I told you what to do."

"I know, it's okay. You're allowed to do that as long as you're polite about it."

"Really?"

"Really. You may be my sub, but you're not my slave. You get to keep your rights, okay? I'll have rules, but we can discuss those when we meet in person." I flinch, I can't help it. Because I know we can't meet in person, because then he'll know who I am. And he can't reject me. He just can't.

He notices, of course he does, and stars running his hand through my hair, making me subconsciously relax almost completely.

"Hey, it's okay. I'll find you soon, I promise." I realise he thinks I flinched because... well, I'm not entirely sure why, but I know he doesn't think I'm dreading our meeting. Which I suppose is good; I don't want to make him unhappy. In fact, I want to make him the happiest man alive. I want to make a nest for him and have his chicks and be there for him. I want to be his. But I can't.

And it breaks my heart.

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