Chapter Eighteen

Sunday 13 September 1998

Harry

The day after not finding my mate in the pack, I can't help but be slightly down. Whatever little expectations there were, they were still there. And they were still dashed.

It doesn't help that my mate pains have officially turned from annoying to painful. There's a constant throbbing at the base of my head, and my muscles ache the more I use them. Occasionally, my skin starts burning, but after a while, it fades away. I wonder if it's when I get close to my mate. I try to chase it sometimes but never get anywhere.

I'm at breakfast, staring at a full plate and decidedly not listening to Ron and Hermione bickering, whilst instead watching Romilda Vane do a very similar thing across the table. I realise that it must be even worse for her than it is for me. She has met her mate, and after all, missing someone you know and love with all your heart is far worse than missing someone you've never met.

The realisation does nothing to make me feel better. I don't think anything could at this point, aside from finally meeting my mate.

Someone places a hand on my shoulder, and instinctively I turn and growl at them, teeth bared, until I see it's Neville, and he practically collapses back into Zabini's chest, who growls at me almost harsher than I did.

"Shit, sorry Nev. I'm just jumpy. You alright?"

"Y-yeah. Sorry for not announcing myself, I should've done that. Sorry." Zabini caresses Neville's upper arm, soothing him, whilst glaring at me.

"Anyway," Nev continues. "We've just finished eating, so when you're ready we can go up to see Draco."

I'm confused for a moment, and then I remember. Yesterday they said I could talk to Draco, make sure he's okay! I practically leap up from my chair.

"I'm ready, whenever, let's go now."

Zabini chuckles. "Eager, much?"

I growl at him, half playfully, half not.

We're going to talk to the Veela sub? Now?

Yep!

Finally! Hurry, quicker, make sure sub is okay! Go, go, go!

You get more and more frantic the closer we get to the dungeons, and it's all I can do not to snap at Nev and Zabini to hurry the fuck up, for crying out loud!

Finally, finally, we arrive at the entrance to the Slytherin dorm. And suddenly, all the scents around me seem to fade away until they're focused on one, specific scent. I know that scent, I know that I do, I would recognise it anywhere. It's sweet and warm and fresh and so, so submissive. My mate.

Mate, mate, mate, mate, mate, mate! Mate is in there! Go, go, go! Faster!

I have to force you to the back of my mind to stop you from taking over, and even that is almost too much to think about. Because my mate could be in this room.

I practically push Nev and Zabini out of the way, rushing into the common room and scanning it. Several heads look up, confused, but I don't care, and neither do you.

I keep looking around, and feel my heart sink with every passing second I don't find him. Where is my mate?

"What's going on?" It's Zabini.

"I thought... I smell my mate, he's in here, but... I don't know where." Zabini and Nev are grinning, and I growl at them, loudly. "This isn't funny! Where is my mate?"

"Harry, think about this. Your mate is in the Slytherin common room. There are only two people with inheritances in Slytherin, and one of them is my mate."

"What do you... Draco?" Oh, Merlin. I can't believe... Draco is my mate. Of course he is, how could I be so stupid, I feel so protective over him and you are obsessed with him, and he's just as submissive as my mate is, and... and no wonder he would act like that! Draco thinks everyone hates him, he's probably terrified I would reject him, whoever I was, net alone me, he probably thinks I hate him!

But it's Draco. Not the Draco I knew, not the one who teased me and picked on my friends, but the Draco who saved my life at Malfoy Manor, who would give his life for his mother's, the Draco who went up scared and shy to stand as a submissive Veela in front of the school. Draco with his porcelain skin and sunshine hair. Draco who sat at my feet in my dreams, who collapsed into my arms, who smells like home. Draco my submissive. Draco my mate.

"You're grinning, Potter. Quite maniacally, I might add."

"Shut up, Zabini. I have to go."

"Wait, Harry, just... Be careful. You know how he is, he... he's terrified."

"Then I'll help him. He's my mate, Neville!"

"I know, I know, but he... he thinks you're going to reject him." He sees the look on my face. "I know you won't, you would never, but he doesn't know that. And Harry... there's a chance he might reject you before you get the chance to do the same to him."

What?

No, no, no. I need my mate, I...

He can't reject me.

He can't.

He's mine.

You're whining in my head, so loud I'm surprised no one else can hear you. I realise that the room is completely silent. Everyone is watching us. I can't bring myself to care. Because my mate cannot reject me.

"He... he wouldn't. He can't."

"There's a chance he won't, but you have to tread lightly. You can't just go in there and expect everything to be perfect."

"Then what do I do?"

"Just... don't rush in all excited like you want to. Careful, quiet, and calm, okay?"

"Fine, fine. I can do this. He won't reject me, he won't." I don't know who I'm trying to convince.

We head up the stairs to the dorms, and almost immediately chatter begins in the room behind us. I want to turn back and hurt them all, but I keep going. Towards my mate, my Draco, who will not reject me. Whose scent is getting stronger, so strong it's becoming harder to restrain you from taking control and marking him here and now.

"You okay?" Zabini says once we're outside the door, and it's all I can do not to bite his head off.

"Don't patronise me."

"Sure, sorry." He seems to realise how on edge I am. In the back of my mind, I'm thankful. "We'll be here." In case the worse happens, are the silent words. In case you're rejected.

I don't reply.

I go in.

I can't help but gasp. He is... gorgeous doesn't even begin to describe my mate. I haven't seen him up close, not since... Merlin, not since before the battle, when we were imprisoned at the manor. I never realised how stunning he was. And maybe it's the inheritance or the mate attraction, but fucking hell, now he's even more so. He's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. He sits in the perfect submissive position, kneeling, hands tucked over his lap, head bowed so layers of silky white-blonde hair fall over delicate, porcelain features. His wings are folded gently behind him, and I had seen them before, in the hall, but not up close. They're a pearly grey, each feather long and soft and practically begging my hands to run through them.

My mate.

"Draco." His name is a sigh from my lips, and I want to taste it forever in my mouth. I step towards him, wanting, needing more of him, needing the touch of his skin on mine, his curves under my hands, his lips against mine, his hair threaded through my fingers, my scent on him, mingled with his inextricably forever. I need my mate.

But he flinches away from me, and I feel my heart snap in two. He's scared of me. My mate thinks I would hurt him. My mate.

"You don't need to be scared of me, Draco. I won't ever hurt you." He doesn't know the truth of those words. He doesn't move. I realise he doesn't believe me. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "I know we don't get along, and we've both done stupid stuff." What the fuck am I saying? I'm talking to my mate like I'm formulating a tentative end to a petty fight between children. "But I forgive you Draco." I more than forgive you. I just don't know if I can forgive myself. Fuck, I hurt my mate. My sub. "I don't hold any grudges against you, and I certainly don't want to hurt you for anything you did." Instead, I want to hold you in my arms and never let you go. "It wasn't your fault."

I don't know what I expect, but whatever it is, it doesn't. He doesn't say anything, doesn't move. Fuck, I don't know what I'll do if he doesn't believe me. I take another step towards him, because if I get closer, if he sees me... but he flinches again, even more, this time.

"It's okay, Draco. I won't hurt you, I won't." I can't help but feel almost angry at the prospect. He is my mate, my sub. I shouldn't have to tell him I won't hurt him, I'd rather die. But I didn't mean to show that emotion in my tone. He starts practically shaking, ducking his head further down, tapping a finger against the palm of his hand. He's scared of me. "Are you okay?" He can't be scared of me. "Talk to me, Draco."

"I- I..." One stuttered word. I never knew that something that simple could practically send me to my knees. His voice is so different. I haven't heard it in a mate dream yet, and I can't believe how different he sounds. How much I would do just to hear his voice again.

"Are you scared of me?" I ask when he doesn't say anything else.

"Yes." I feel part of me die.

"Why?" What have I done? What can I do to make it better?

"B-Because, because you're a dom, and you h-hate m-me, and..." No, no, no, no, no.

"I don't hate you." I want to say it a million times. However many times it takes to sink in. Because I cannot have my mate thinking I hate him.

"Why?"

"I've told you, I forgive you." Nothing. "Draco, look at me." Because if he looks at me, he'll understand. If he looks at me, he'll know he's my mate. And I'm his. "Look at me and tell me I'm lying. Draco, please, I'm asking you to look at me." And finally, finally, he does.

Here's a truth; my mate's eyes are grey. I never knew how much could be encompassed in one tiny, insignificant word. Because grey is not just grey, it is a swirling, moving colour, like storm clouds shifting. It is swimming with confusion, with fear, with dread, but with the possibility of joy, of love. It is not even just grey, it is white and black and blue. Grey is the colour of my mate's eyes. Grey will never just be grey ever again.

I thought I knew Draco was my mate. But now, at this moment, I have never been more certain of anything. It is that certainty that takes my breath away.

"Mate. Draco, you're my mate, my sub." My voice is so quiet, I can barely hear it, but I have no breath to speak with, and I'm not sure I will ever have any again. I have never been so happy. But then... Then, that beautiful, gorgeous grey starts to darken. I thought he was scared before. Now he's terrified.

"Draco..."

He's shaking, not just his hands, like before, but all over, quaking. He scrambles to his feet, eyes darting around the room. Looking for a way out. Backing away from me. I try to follow him, to try and calm him down, because he's so scared and he can't reject me, I won't let him.

"Draco, wait. Please stop." But he doesn't listen- why isn't he listening to me- and keeps backing away, further and further, until he reaches the window. I don't realise what he's about to do until it's too late- stupid, stupid- and so I can't stop him as he opens the window and leaps out of it.

I'm left alone with silence. The only sounds are the thumping of my breaking heart and your deafening howls echoing in my mind.

2105 words