Chapter Twenty Nine

Wednesday 23 September 1998

Draco

The next few days are the best I've ever had. I spend my time in one of three places: class, with Harry, or building my nest. The former is the worst, the latter the hardest. I'd learnt about building nests from my aunt, but to be honest it isn't really something that can be taught. As I'm doing it, I'm riding solely on instinct, and my instinct is very confusing and annoying. I suppose part of it is my late training, but I also desperately want it to be perfect, whilst the whole time dying to go and find Harry.

The classes I have without Harry are similar. Not that they last long - often involving Harry bursting in mid-way through. I love it when he does that. Because I get to see him, of course, but also because it means he cares that much about me - more than the rules, more than his NEWTs.

And besides, he's always in that mood when he does.

Right, Merlin. Don't get me wrong, I hate it when he's upset, but Merlin is he hot when he gets all protective and growly.

People are still rude. But it's okay. Harry always stands up for me, and I always calm him down. We're a good team.

A great team.

Right.

Anyway, I spend as much time as I can with him, and I can't get enough of it. But a lot of my free time is spent making our nest. It's the most frustrating thing I've ever done. I always get so close but it's never good enough. I try to draw inspiration from the one in our mate dreams - which we now spend every night in - but it's still not right. I'm only using stuff with my scent on it and I hate it. The dream one has a huge variety of scents, but especially Harry's. But I can't ask him. I don't know why, but every time I try I get so anxious. I should be able to do it by myself. It's a submissive's job, the one thing I can do for Harry. I can do it, and I can do it without his help.

So yeah, it's taking a while, and I hate that. And I can tell it's affecting Harry too, even if he tries not to show it.

"You're done with classes now right? Can we do something? Just me and you." It's been over a week since he killed the chimaera and rescued me. I said our nest would have been ready days ago, but it's nowhere near done.

"B-but the nest?" At this he frowns, and rigs me from where I'm curled up to his side in the courtyard into his lap, facing him.

"Draco, you spend all your time on that nest. And I love that you care so much about it, but it doesn't need to be perfect."

What does he mean? Of course it does!

"Yes it does," I say quietly. It does because the better it is, the better I am.

"But it's only temporary. You know what our permanent one will look like, and it's not at Hogwarts."

"Still not good enough." I look down, embarrassed to admit it. That I can't do it. But he tilts my head up and meets my eyes. Whatever he sees there makes him frown and press his lips against mine.

"As long as you're trying, it's more than enough," he murmurs against my mouth. "But I have a feeling you're not going to believe me."

"Sorry." He kisses me gently again.

"Don't be. I have an idea." I cock my head, and he smiles at me. "You're only using stuff you have, right? Your blankets and pillows and stuff." I nod slowly, dread starting to bubble in my stomach like acid. He's figured it out. That I need help, that I'm too pathetic to do it by myself. I can't complete the simplest of submissive tasks.

Harry cups my cheeks with his hands, smiling reassuringly at me. "You know you could have asked me, right?"

"W-what?"

"You okay coming up to Gryffindor with me?" No, no, no, not Gryffindor, they hate me, they'll hurt me-

Not if Harry's there. He won't let them, you know he won't. He never has before, and he never will.

Okay. You're right.

"Y-yeah, if you're there."

"Of course, mate mine. Now?" I nod reluctantly and he smiles. Salazar, that smile. He wraps my legs around his waist and his arms around mine, so when he stands up he takes me with him. I tuck my face in the crook of his neck, which yes, hides my blush, but has the added benefit of letting me inhale his scent, which still manages to make me go completely limp in his arms.

"You okay, mate mine?" he says when he feels the life practically drain from my limbs.

"Mhmm."

"Oh? Then why are you all floppy, hmm?"

"Smell good."

"Mm, so do you." He nuzzles his nose against the meeting point between my neck and shoulder, then presses a kiss against my scent gland. I moan against his shoulder.

Eventually we reach the Gryffindor tower, and I find myself more nervous than I would care to admit. After all, it's the Gryffindors more than anyone who hurt me.

But Harry's-

I know. It'll be okay. But that doesn't stop me from holding him tighter.

"S'okay, mate mine. I've got you."

He says the password to a painting of a woman, then walks through the arch it reveals. I refuse to look around - even my curiosity of what kind of squalor the lions live in is overpowered by the fear that they'll bite my head off.

Silence starts to fall over the room, interrupted by a low growl that echoed through Harry's chest.

"'Ry?" I murmur, looking up at him, hoping to distract him with the nickname and being more successful than I expected. He immediately stops growling, his head snapping down to look at me. His eyes look like fire, if fire was a blazing green. "Are we going upstairs?"

"Of course, darling." He smirks, and I blush, and he starts leading me towards the two staircases at the back of the room.

"Harry? Is that..?" Harry whips round, taking me with him, to see Weasley and a couple other Gryffindors: the one who always used to blow stuff up - Finnegan, I think - and his friend. Harry cuts Finnegan off with a growl.

"Malfoy?" the third says. "Are you sure this is a good idea, Harry?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" He's angry, not that it's obvious to the Gryffindors, but I can feel him tensing, and the veiled fury in his tone.

Push a bit of your scent out.

I'm not good at scent control, you know that.

I know, but maybe it would be easier with Harry here. And it would calm him down. You should try.

Okay, you're right. I try to remember what Aunt Emma said during training. To focus, breathe, and start small. Release a little bit at a time.

Wait, I think it's working! Do more!

Really? I try again, letting out a bit more this time. But I can instantly tell that it's too much. It's pouring out of me and I can't seem to reign it in. Panic flares in my gut as Harry stiffens, growls, grabs me so easily it's as if I weigh less than a feather, before scrambling up one of the staircases, leaving the Gryffindors calling after him in confusion.

He shoves a door open, locks it behind him with a word- and wandless spell, crosses the room in a few paces and practically throws me onto one of the beds; his bed, I realise as I take in its scent. I look up at him, and a shiver wracks its way through my body at the sight. He's panting, pupils blown wide enough to almost swallow his irises. He's physically shaking, fists and jaw clenched tight.

"Harry?" I say quietly. I sit up, scrambling back so my back is pressed against the headboard, and try desperately to reign in my scent. Eventually I manage it, and listen to Harry's breathing start to slow again. He falls against the edge of the bed in relief.

"Merlin, Draco, what did you do? Godric, I might've... It was almost impossible - you smelt so good, how did you do that?"

"I d-don't know how. I was just trying to... Alex said that if I let out a bit of my scent it might be calming, I didn't know it would do that much, I was just trying to help, I'm sorry-"

"Oh, darling, mate mine." He crawls closer and I fall against him and into his arms. "It's okay, it's not your fault. Just... try not to do that again unless you fancy torturing me, okay?"

"I would never..!"

"I know, mate mine. Merlin, okay, just give me a second and I'll help you grab what you need for your nest, okay?"

It takes more than a second, but I don't mind. Why would I? I'm surrounded by my mate's scent, drowning in his comforter and his arms. He's holding me tightly against his chest, and the sound of his heart echoes through my mind like music.

I start thinking about what I'll need to take, and suddenly a jolt of not-quite-anxiety shoots through me as I realise I have no idea what would be too much. I can't take his duvet - he'll get cold - and if I take his pillows he'll be uncomfortable, but what if I take his clothes and he wants to wear them-

Draco, do you genuinely think he'll keep sleeping in here when the nest is done?

Oh, right. But- but how do you know that? I don't want to assume; what if I take something he needs and force him to come with us when he doesn't want to-

Ask him. Oh. Right.

"'Ry?"

"Godric, I love it when you call me that. What's up, mate mine?"

"When I finish, the nest I mean, will you come down with me?"

"You mean will I stay in the dungeons?" I nod into his chest. "Of course I will. Only if you want, of course, but I think it would kill me to spend the whole year sleeping without you." I whine, and he squeezes me tightly. I hate it when he says things like that, even though I know he's not being literal.

"Me too."

See? Told you.

We stay like that for a little longer, but eventually he shakes his head, exhales deeply, and stands, holding a hand out to me which I take.

"Right, darling, what do you need?"

"You."

"Oh."

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