Dragon Hunt

“I will fight it at your side,” Draco vowed. As he said those words, Harry pushed his hand forward, dropping his fingers to lace through Draco’s. The dragon’s purr changed so quickly and so dramatically, Harry couldn’t focus on the sound to describe it. He was too distracted by the way his very skin began to hum. From the point of contact, radiating outward, the most delicious feeling overcame him. “Gods, Draco,” he breathed, unable to find his actual voice.

“Harry,” the dragon purred. He felt so warm, so comfortingly warm. His entire body tingled. “I—“ Harry leaned forward, their foreheads rested against each other. Their breath mingled. That beautiful sound, that heavenly purr was like a joyous song within his very soul.

Their moment was interrupted. “Separate, boys!” Snape growled. They both sat up and turned to face him, but their entwined fingers remained that way. “The fighting has tripped wards. This place will be swarming with Deatheaters any moment.”

Harry stood, pulling Draco to his feet as well. Instinctively, Harry stood in front of him, protecting him. “Mr. Potter, you need to go immediately,” Snape said coldly.

“What about Draco?” Harry asked. “I can’t leave without—“

“He must stay. If he is not here, the Deatheaters will track him.”

“But—“

“Lucius never allowed Draco’s abandonment be known; it would have been viewed as weakness in Voldemort’s circle. He figured once Draco turned and he got him under his control, there would be no problems. I was the only one to know. Lucius has been telling people that Draco’s turning caused some unknown side-effects,” Snape explained quickly.

“And how are we going to explain away the fact that I killed my father?” Draco asked snidely. Harry’s grip on his mate’s hand tightened.

“The damage does that. We will simply explain that the Order attacked and killed him. Now, Potter, go. I’ll protect Draco and bring him to you soon,” Snape said quickly. “You have to leave, Potter.”

Harry looked to Draco, seeking his thoughts. Draco nodded, signaling his acceptance of what must be done. But Harry was reluctant to walk away. His mate was weak, wounded, broken. He couldn’t--

“Harry, go!” Draco said, interrupting his thoughts. “I’ll be fine.” Harry saw a small group of people huddled toward the end of the property, waving him over. “You have to go! They’ll kill you!”

“I don’t want to leave you,” Harry said lamely.

Draco tugged at their clasped hands, pulling his hand free. The feeling of loss nearly overwhelmed them both. “Go!” Draco urged, pointing him towards the group awaiting him. “I’ll be with you soon. I promise, and then we’ll never be apart.”

“Harry!” Hermione screamed.

“Go!” Draco assured him. It almost physically hurt to walk away, but Ron and Hermione both ran towards him, grabbing him and dragging him to the property line.

“Hold on to me tightly,” Sirius instructed and Harry did as he was told, his eyes still locked on Draco as he the world disappeared and he found himself in the park across the street from Sirius’s home.


The moment the group had disappeared from view, Draco turned to Snape. “What was in that potion?”

“Just something that would burn away any control your father had of you,” Snape said softly. “Now, it would not—“

“I know,” Draco breathed. He pulled off the robe. “Make it look good.” Snape nodded and raised his wand. Without hesitation, he fired off a series of spells. Draco screamed and fell, convulsing to the ground.


“We have to go back,” Harry demanded, clutching his abdomen. “Draco is hurt.”

“He’ll be here soon, Harry,” Hermione said softly. Harry didn’t understand what was happening, but he found himself being ushered into the house.



“What is going on here?” Voldemort demanded. Snape stood from his spot kneeling beside Draco.

“My Lord,” Snape greeted, bowing lowly. “I was asked to bring Lucius more potions for young Draco. This is the scene I found as I arrived. Lucius is dead in the tower. Narcissa is also dead, in the foyer. Draco has been badly wounded,” he added, stepping aside to show Voldemort the broken body.

“Draco, explain!” Voldemort shouted.

Draco struggled to sit up but gave up quickly. He spit blood before speaking. “I was flying, My Lord. I came back when I heard my mother screaming. There were at least three out on the grounds, perhaps more. I don’t know what happened. With the first spell, I lost my dragon form. I fell to the ground. From there I felt only pain. I did not waken until Professor Snape revived me.” Voldemort stared at Draco’s nude and wounded body; Draco tried not to shutter at the look on his face.

“Draco’s wounds are serious, my lord,” Snape continued.

“You are his guardian?” Voldemort asked coldly, not taking his eyes from Draco’s flesh.

Snape bowed again. “With Lucius and Narcissa dead, I am,” he confirmed.

Voldemort nodded. “Call the Ministry. Report the Malfoys murdered. Get Draco taken care of. We must not be here when Aurors arrive.” Voldemort smirked down at Draco. “Be well, Master Malfoy. I will see you soon.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Draco said weakly.

“Snape,” Voldemort said sternly. “Come and see me the moment you get young Master Malfoy settled.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Snape said, bowing lowly again. Voldemort and the Deatheaters disappeared quickly. Snape did as he was instructed.



Harry was pacing the length of the kitchen. He was desperately hopeful the flames of the hearth would flash green and his mate would step out from them, but hours passed without word. Moody had sent an owl saying that Snape had reported the Malfoy’s murders and that Draco had been taken to St. Mungo’s.

“Where is he?!” Harry screamed. His heart would not stop drumming. He had never been so afraid as he was at this moment. Not even in that graveyard. “Damn it!”

“Harry, you need to relax,” Charlie said softly. He’d been watching Harry since they returned. Tonks, Kingsley, and Moody had returned to the Ministry. The majority of the Weasleys had returned to the Burrow.

Sirius sighed. “Sit down,” he commanded gently. “Snape may be a right git, but he will bring Draco to you the moment it is possible.”

Charlie didn’t want to worry Harry more than he already was, but Charlie was worried about the dragon. Harry had touched the serpent. The bonding process had begun. Draco was getting weaker with each passing second. “You need to relax,” he said softly.

Harry nodded, but continued pacing, his eyes trained on the floo.



“Mr. Snape, we’ve very concerned about your godson. We’ve healed his bones, but he is very weak. We can’t find any spell acting upon him, but—“

“I will take him home, now,” Snape said.

“We don’t think that is a good idea,” the healer said. “We still haven’t been able to identify all of the spells cast on him and with this weakness—“

“I’ll take him home.”

“Given the attack on his home, I understand your urge to protect—“

Snape practically seethed. “I am taking him home. You will not try and persuade me otherwise, as you are only delaying the inevitable. Do not push this further.”

“Yes sir.” The healer bowed. “I will get some potions he will need to take every six hours. One for pain, the other will reinforce the spells that healed his bones. I want to see him back in one week, supposing that the weakness doesn’t progress.”

“I will be taking him as soon as he is dressed,” Snape said. “If your potions are not here by then, we will be leaving without them.” With that, Snape entered Draco’s hospital room.

Draco looked so small in the hospital bed. He was as white as the sheets around him. “We have to get you out of here, Draco. You need to get to Harry.” Draco nodded weakly and tried to sit up. Snape had to help him onto his feet and help him pull the robe around his shoulders. “Come,” he said. Snape pulled one of Draco’s arms over his shoulders, using it to support his weight as he helped Draco out of the room, where the healer met them with a bag of potion bottles. Together they made it to the floo.



Snape staggered out of the floo with Draco’s arm still draped over his shoulder. “Oh thank the gods!” Harry sighed, moving towards his mate. Without hesitation, Harry scooped Draco into his arms, holding him against his chest. “He’s unconscious,” Harry said, his voice laced with worry. There was no sound, no purr, no panicked shriek.

“Yes,” Snape said. “The healers took care of his injuries, but they can’t explain his continued weakness. I was hoping you could.” Snape was looking at Charlie.

Charlie nodded. “When a mating is interrupted and the pair loses physical contact for even a short period of time, the dragons will weaken until—well . . . A dragon cannot survive without its mate.” Harry didn’t hear the end of the statement. He was halfway up the stairs with Draco in his arms.


Harry laid Draco out on his bed. He wanted to take Draco, to own that beautiful silky white skin, but his instincts told him differently. He pulled the robes from Draco, tossing them onto the floor. They’d healed Draco and washed the blood from his skin at St. Mungo’s, but Harry could still see the marks, see where Draco’s flawless skin had been cut and damaged.

Gently he rubbed his hands over Draco’s cool skin, memorizing every inch of that skin. He ran his hands down over his shoulders to his fingers, back up to run down his chest, feeling his nipples harden beneath his palms. His hands traveled lower, over Draco’s smooth abdomen, his thumbs pushing gently on the gently protruding hipbones. He ran his hands over narrow hips and down muscled thighs, knees, calves, feet, toes. “You even have cute toes,” Harry muttered.

He ran his hands back up those legs, marveling in the smoothness of that cool skin. He refrained himself from running his hand over the piece of heavy flesh between his mate’s legs. No, he refused to allow Draco to be unconscious during their first sexual touch.

Harry pulled himself from the bed, quickly stripping down to his bare skin before jumping back into the bed. He didn’t want to lose contact with Draco for any longer than absolutely necessary. He rolled Draco gently to his side and then curled up behind him, allowing their entire bodies to fit together like a puzzle. “I love you,” he whispered in the other man’s ear as his free arm stoked up and down his side, up and down. “I love you.”

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