Dragon Hunt

Harry spent the morning reading and singing softly to the egg. Draco did the same, silently reading or staring into space. Harry repeatedly tried to speak to him, but Draco offered nothing in return and when Harry tried to touch the blond, the dragon moved away. He told himself to be angry. He told himself to yell and demand an explanation, but he couldn’t. Each moment of cold only reminded him of his childhood. And his childhood only reminded him that he was not wanted.

The purr offered no hope. It was soft and dull. It was no longer comforting to be near and no longer gave him a clue as to how to read Draco. Maybe that in and of itself was telling him that the dream was over.

As the sun fell, Harry wrapped himself around the egg and slept.

When Harry awoke, the room was filled with light and nothing else. Well, no one else. There was a note on the dragon’s side of the bed, which was suspiciously neat. The brunette bit his lip and shook his head to refocus his thoughts before reaching for the note. Speaking to my godfather. Keep an eye on the egg. It wasn’t even signed. It felt cold, like the bed, like his mate.

“Dobby!” Harry called.

“At your service, Harry Potter,” the elf said happily when he appeared.

“Can you apparate Hermione here? I need to talk to her.” Dobby nodded. “Tell her to bring her book about dragons.”

Harry pulled himself from the bed, wrapping the thick comforter around the egg to hide it from view. He and Draco had agreed to keep it a secret for now, though Harry had the sick feeling that Draco was breaking that agreement. He pulled on his dressing robe and dropped into the large couch by the fire just as Dobby popped in with Hermione in tow.

“Harry!” Hermione said worriedly, coming over to take a place beside him. She set her book on the coffee table. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Harry shrugged. “I just wanted to talk to one of my best friends.”

“Are you going to tell me about the other day? Snape said that you and Draco would be quarantined for at least a week. Are you all right? Where’s Draco? Did you two have a fight?” Hermione rambled.

“I’m fine. Draco and I staged that scene to get ourselves some more time together and now Draco’s with Snape.”

Hermione looked relieved and then confused. “If you two went to all the trouble of staging that scene, why is Draco with Snape?” Harry shrugged and reached for the book Hermione had brought. Hermione’s confusion turned to concern. “What is going on?”

“Nothing.” He flipped quickly through the pages, finding what he wanted.

“You’re upset,” Hermione said. “Since you and Draco bonded, you’ve been nothing but smiles, unless he was in danger and then you were like a feral beast, but this—why are you sad?”

Harry bit his lip and wiped a tear from his eyes before it had a chance to fall. “I’m being silly.”

“You’re allowed,” Hermione reassured him, gripping her friend’s knee. “You had Dobby bring me here. Talk to me.”

“The night we got here was weird. I don’t want to go into details. And then,—You’re right. We went through all of that to have more time, but when we got back here, Draco would barely look at me. He barely said a word to me yesterday and he refused to look me in the eye. He was gone before I woke up and he didn’t sleep in the bed.” Harry shook his head and pushed more tears out of his eyes before they could fall. “I’m being silly,” he repeated, more to reassure himself than Hermione. He read through the article: A dragon’s need for its mate is driven by its need to reproduce.

“No, you’re not. Draco—“

“We’ve been together what? Less than two weeks, really? I was being ridiculous thinking that we’d have a happily ever after. It was silly of me to forget that it was some dragon urge to mate that made him want me. We barely know eachother and I was stupid to think that how he made me feel and how I thought I made him feel was enough, that it would last.” The window began to open and Harry stood, turning to hide his face as Draco entered. He wiped his tears as best he could.

“Harry?” Draco asked suspiciously. His eyes were trained on the back of his mate’s head. He could smell the tears Harry was desperately trying to hide from him.

“I was just giving Hermione an explanation for our antics the other day,” Harry explained after turning to face his mate. He met Draco’s eye and couldn’t hold his gaze.

Hermione stared at Draco. “You’re blue.”

“Spell,” Draco said shortly.

Harry turned back to Hermione. “Do you have class?”

“Yes,” Hermione said, taking the out. She stepped from the couch and to Harry’s side, curling onto her toes to give her friend a comforting kiss on his cheek. As she passed Draco, she gave him a curt nod. “Draco,” she said by means of a good-bye.

“Granger,” Draco responded with a similar nod. Draco waited for the door to close behind the girl before turning back to Harry. “What was she doing here?”

Harry looked confused. “I already told you.”

“Did you tell her about the egg?” Draco demanded.

“No. We agreed that we wouldn’t until we spoke with Charlie, and I for one plan on keeping that agreement,” Harry said coldly.

“Are you implying that I won’t?” Draco asked, his face colored with shock.

“What were you talking to Snape about?” Harry said just as coldly as before. Draco shook his head, refusing to answer, which was just as well. Harry didn’t even wait for a response. Instead, he turned back to the bed and crawled in, resting a hand on the egg. The egg’s purr gave Harry a sense of peace that Draco’s purr didn’t anymore. When Harry felt a hand on his back, he jerked away automatically and bit his lip to keep silent when Draco only sighed, muttered something he couldn’t hear, and walked away.

Draco took a seat on the couch and stared at his mate. He’d been so preoccupied with what his godfather had told him and the dread it brought with it.

I should have known. Draco almost jumped when he heard the voice in his head. He and Harry still hadn’t learned to truly control their telepathy, but Draco assumed that one of them had to be thinking something hard to get it to come through. Though from Harry’s words, Draco guessed he wasn’t intending this to be overheard.

Draco stared hard at Harry’s back and swallowed back his questions. He needed to know what was running through his mate’s head. He needed to know Harry had refused his touch so he could bring them back together. He concentrated, focused his thoughts on Harry. At first, it was muffled, but soon it focused and sharpened and he could hear his mate’s internal voice.

I love him with everything I am, but he needed a mate, that’s all. Harry muttered. Always needed; never wanted, he grumbled mournfully.

Draco watched Harry running his hand over their egg, touching the smooth, polished surface like it gave him hope.

I did what he needed me for. He just better realize it’s my egg too, Harry thought spitefully. He won’t take that from me without a fight.

Draco frowned. Why would Harry ever think he would try to separate him from the egg, from their child?

The Boy-Who-Lived,” Harry thought sardonically. The moniker says nothing about getting to be happy. That all went away; cold. He was so cold. Why should I even dream of happiness? Not worth the disappointment.

Draco could bear to overhear any more. He stood quickly and stepped over to the bed, crawling in behind Harry. Harry tensed and tried to pull away, but Draco wrapped himself tighter. “You think very loudly,” Draco whispered.

Then Harry really struggled, pulling himself away. “Let go of me!” Harry shouted.

“No,” Draco said gently. “I love you.”

“Please don’t say that,” Harry said tightly, straining to keep his voice even. “Don’t say something you—I won’t deny you your heir, Lord Malfoy, but I demand to see my own child,” Harry said frigidly.

“My distraction wasn’t about the egg, Harry,” Draco assured him. “Not directly.” Harry was silent. “Snape was summoned by the Dark Lord the day we fought. Voldemort wanted to speak with him about me.”

“What did he say?”

Draco buried his head in the back of Harry’s neck and shoulders. “I don’t want to talk about it. I want to make love to you.” By the way Harry stiffened, Draco knew he’d said the wrong thing, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I need to feel you with me. I need to know that I’ll always have you.”

“Always,” Harry said softly, sadly.

Draco took the word as assent and placed a slow kiss on the back of Harry’s neck. Slowly he began stripping Harry, placing kisses along his spine. But when he placed a kiss on the cleft of Harry’s ass and Harry didn’t respond, he pulled back. “Harry?” he questioned nervously. The brunette’s lack of physical response was disconcerting to say the least.

“Yes?” Harry said dully.

“What’s going on?”

“I thought you were preparing to take what is yours,” Harry droned.

Draco scrambled from the bed. “I don’t own you, Harry.”

“I’m your mate. You’ve claimed me body, heart, and soul. I’m yours to do with as you please.” The dragon wanted to keen with need at the words, but Harry’s mocking tone made Draco’s heart break.

“Stop,” Draco demanded. “Talk to me.”

Harry didn’t turn to face his mate. “I will be what you desire of me, dragon. Just—“ He was cut off by a swift knock at the door leading to Gryffindor Tower. Harry turned and faced his mate for the first time. He saw Draco’s confusion and concern, but didn’t know how to alleviate it. Instead, he wrapped the blanket around the egg and stood from the bed. Slowly, stiffly, he pulled on the clothing Draco had stripped from him. “Who is it?”

“Charlie!” a voice called.

Draco watched his mate’s stiff movements as he dressed. He couldn’t read Harry like he used to. He couldn’t sense his needs, his desires. But, it didn’t take a dragon bond to know that Harry was depressed. Draco settled onto the couch and watched as the red-head appeared.

“You’re blue,” Charlie commented as he regarded the blond.

“Spell,” Draco responded. “It’ll wear off, Harry assures me.”

“Kinky,” Charlie replied with a shrug.