A War at the End of the World

I don’t own the characters or the franchise. If I did I would be rich. And that would be cool.

I’m not so confident about this chapter. Umm…I hope you like it. Not to spoil it for you but no furry action will be taking place. When you get there the situation lends itself to the plot. Hang with me. I hope you like it. Does anyone want to be my beta? How does one find a Beta?


Chapter Four: Bloody Harry Potter


Ron really liked his eggs. They were light, fluffy, and had just a hint of brown at the edges. He was of the opinion that things tasted better when they were slightly burnt. He had just watched Hermione follow in Harry’s wake and still had no intention of going off after his best friend. He love Hermione to death, but sometimes she didn’t get boys. She didn’t understand that sometimes they didn’t want to talk, didn’t need to share their feelings, and most certainly didn’t want to deal with the fact that they weren’t human, had a significant other that was floating around somewhere unknown, and that they wore the pants in the relationship. Hermione didn’t get that. But Ron did.

Ron got boys.

And that was why he got to enjoy the rest of his breakfast. Just as Ron was about to take another bite out of his piece of toast, a hand slid in from behind him, startling the redhead, and filching his piece of toast. Ron turned and was greeted by a pair of sparkling brown eyes.

The redhead was going to be sick.

“What are you doing,” Ron whispered harshly at the boy who was now happily munching away at the partially eaten toast.

Blaise smirked around the mouth full and sat down next to the Weasley. “Me? I’m having a but of brekkie.”

Ron scowled at the black haired boy, the last of his toast disappearing past still smirking lips. “Having a bit of mine I’d say. I’m busy though so you can go away now.”

Blaise lost a bit of his smirk for a moment before it returned brighter than before. He slid closer to the redhead, their hips bumping into each other, and placed his hand on Ron’s thigh.

“Now why would I do a thing like that Ronnie? I thought maybe we’d spend a bit of time together today. You know talk Quiditch.” Blaise wagged his eye brows at Ron and had the pleasure of watching the boy’s face turn a shade of red that was reminiscent of more private moments between the two.

Ron pushed at Blaise, but even though he was the taller of the two he didn’t have nearly the muscle mass that Blaise did.

“Get away from me. What if someone sees?” Ron’s frantic whisper was coupled with wild head movements as he searched the hall for signs that they had drawn attention.

Blaise watched his redhead as if the boy had gone daft.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said as he looked around the hall disbelievingly. “You and your friends are the only ones who get up this early by choice. No one has even thought about breakfast yet.”

“Still,” Ron said and then paused. Blaise had begun to run a spot just below his ear and it was making it hard for Ron to think. “You need to stop.” And he leaned into the caress. Into Blaise.

Blaise smiled to himself as Ron leaned into his touch. They hadn’t had much time together since the summer, but what time they did have had been put to good use. Blaise knew Ron’s body, knew just where to touch to get the other boy to sing. It hadn’t been that long ago that the idea of talking to a Weasely would have sent Blaise running in a fit of terror. The two had met in a Quiditch shop on Diagon Alley. Ron had been admiring a poster of Viktor Krum that Blaise had been about to buy. He wasn’t sure how the two of them had begun talking, but he knew that they had soon started a heated debate on whether Viktor play for the Cannons or if he would play for Puddlemere United. Puddlemere was the better team, but he’d be a starter for the Cannons.

The debate had gone from heated to ugly quickly and had gotten them thrown out of the shop. And what had started as an immature fight in the middle of street with name-calling had ended in the two snogging in a back alley just behind Olivander’s Wand shop. That had started them on their current path and while Blaise wouldn’t call what they had a relationship, at least not in front of the other boy, he knew that he had no intention of letting the boy push him away. No matter how hard he tried.

“You know,” Blaise whispered softly into Ron’s ear. “One of the perks of being head-boy is that I can request meals in my room. My private room.”

Blaise moved back so that he could get a good look at Ron’s face. The boy was flushed and panting and his eyes had a slightly glazed look that Blaise was beginning to become accustomed to seeing.

“I just ate though,” Ron said dumbly. He was feeling slightly light headed and found it hard to think.

Blaise smiled and got up from his seat dragging his Weasely out of the Great Hall behind him. “I was talking about lunch.”

Ron made a sound in the back of his throat and followed behind Blaise as they quickly made their way to the head boy’s room. Ron knew he was supposed to be mad at Blaise for something, but he’d think about it later. Maybe after lunch.


He could say no, Harry thought to himself again. He wasn’t being forced. Draco had asked, begged more like, but there was still the opportunity to get out. But no matter how he had felt about how a mate would isolate him from the rest of his friends, from the world, the feeling of being in Draco’s arms and the way that he started kissing along his neck, made him melt into the other boy.

Draco had taken the relaxing of his mate’s body as a sign that he was willing and had begun working at the other boy’s pants. First working the belt free and then the button and fly. He had been begun stroking Harry’s chest with his other hand, under the boy’s shirt, rubbing slowly with careful fingers that just tickled the fine hairs of his mates skin. Without warning Draco’s hand had plunged into Harry’s boxers and begun fondling the erection that Harry hadn’t even realized was there. Draco began stroking him while he ground his own erection into his mates still covered rear.

“If you have objections Potter, now would be the time for them.” The words were a touch unkind, but there was something in the tone that told Harry that he should defy logic and everything he had known until now and trust Draco Malfoy.

Plus what he was doing felt so damn good.

Harry turned his head and caught Draco’s lips with his own. The charge that had been building on Harry’s skin arced between the two, making Draco feel more alive than he thought was possible. The blonde took control of the kiss and began nibbling along Harry’s bottom lip causing the boy to whimper loudly. Draco’s hand that was still fondling Harry began to lower the boy’s pant as Draco moved the two of them to kneel on the floor of the hallway.

Draco rested his nose in his mate’s hair and inhaled deeply. This wasn’t how he thought his first time with his mate would be. When he had envisioned it, he had thought it would be a special night, something that they would both remember as a cherished memory. And while Draco would always cherish this moment he knew that this was not how he planned on doing things, the thought almost brought him to a halt.

Harry had felt the hesitation and for a moment had been relieved, but no matter what his head said, something inside him was screaming for him to continue, the same thing that had made him turn his head and kiss Draco, and that now made him push himself back into Draco.

Draco gasped at his mate’s silent insistence and renewed his own work on the boy’s body. The blonde pushed his own pants around his ankles and pressed his freed erection into the crack of Harry’s ass.

“Draco,” Harry whispered in need and confusion, not sure what to do, but sure that something had to happen and soon.

The sound of his name on his mate’s lips almost brought Draco to completion and it was only through years of self-control, and biting the hell out of his tongue, that the veela avoided bringing the moment to a premature end. Draco whispered a spell into his hand and then lowered it to Harry’s entrance.

Harry felt lube slicked digits began to explore his entrance circling the hole before the tips dipped in shallowly. The raven-haired teen began to pant and tried leaning forward so that Draco could have easier access to him, but the blonde kept Harry flushed against himself with the hand that had been roaming against boy’s chest.

“Not that way,” Draco murmured softly as one finger entered Harry fully, working a strangled cry out of him. “Not this time.”

Draco slowly began stroking his finger in and out of Harry, slowly building speed as he felt the muscles that clamped around him relax at the intrusion. Draco added a second finger repeating the process and then a third when he thought his mate was ready. Draco soon had Harry writhing in ecstasy while struggling against the blonde to move into a position that offered less intimacy, but more access to his body.

“Please,” Harry cried out. “Please do something.”

Draco said the spell again and coated his member completely before positioning at his mate’s entrance.

“We finish this and you’re mine heart and mind,” Draco said invoking his veela magic to complete the bond that the two had begun.

A current ran through the air and Draco could feel the pressure of his magic wanting to settle in around the two lovers. There was something else in the air with it though. Something he did not recognize, but all the same still familiar.

“Okay. Got it. Draco!” Harry’s voice cried out.

Draco laughed and then in one move entered the smaller boy. Harry gasped out and Draco had to remain still, allowing both Harry and himself to adjust to the feeling of the other. Once he felt his mate’s muscles unclench slightly Draco began moving slightly, moving in and out of his mate languidly. Draco was heaven. He had never imagined that it would be this good. Harry began to pant beneath him, making soft noises that drove Draco to speed up and thrust harder until he was plowing into his mate with abandon, Harry still crying out for more.

Their heated tempo reached a pinnacle and then pushed them over, both boys crying out, the strange pressure in the air chose that moment to swoop down on the two of them and settle onto their skin the same way that the veela’s own magic had. The boys collapsed onto the floor, Draco slipped out of his mate and then rearranged himself so that Harry was lying half on top of Draco, his head resting on the veela’s chest.

Harry looked up at the blonde’s face and expected to be angry. The spell had passed. Whatever strange magic that had enticed him to accept Draco was gone now, he had his will back. But watching the glowing face of the other teen Harry couldn’t find it in himself to feel like he had been taken advantage of. In fact he almost felt like it had been the other way around, last time he checked Draco was a strictly hex first, speak later. That they were both recovering from a bought of sex on a hallway floor couldn’t be natural and made Harry look away from blonde. He didn’t want to see the moment when this all came crashing down.

Draco looked down to his fate and noticed that the other boy wore a look that seemed to be more than a little distraught. The veela reached down and took his mate’s chin in his hand, forcing the other boy to look at him.

“We start over,” the blonde stated bluntly. “I’ve waited too long to waste any more time fighting. Got it. We are going to do this right.”

If it meant that he had to make friends with Weaselys and a thousand mudbloods than he would.

Harry nodded happily and would have kept doing so except Draco continued on.

“And as soon as we move you out of the Gryffindor tower and into the dungeons can make a start at getting to know each other.”

For a moment Harry had been happy. Really happy. There was no rejection. He was accepted. His mate wanted him. And he realized that was what Draco was: his mate. But as he opened his mouth to agree, Harry found himself saying something totally different than what he had expected himself to say.

“I think you should ask me about that before you decide, don’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” Draco sounded perplexed.

Harry got off Draco quickly and pulled his pants up, wincing a little as he did so. He waited while Draco did the same thing.

“I get it. This is a mate thing. You get to be the dominant,” Harry said building up to a full rant, not noticing the perplexed look that crossed Draco’s features. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you waltz in to my life and start telling me what to do.”

Draco scowled at his mate. “I don’t see what the problem is. I simply want to start over.”

“And who died and put you in charge of such things?”

“No one had to die. You’re my mate I’m making a decision. As long as its one that doesn’t hurt you I don’t see what the problem is!” Malfoy’s voice was tense with anger. As far as he was concerned Harry’s anger was coming out of nowhere.

“Of course you don’t. You just think you can treat me like one of your little cronies. I’m not going to let you decide my life for me.”

Draco was fast losing his temper, but was doing his best to rein it in. It was obvious that his mate was headstrong. It wouldn’t do any good to fight with him.

“Look, Harry. I’m not trying to make you do anything you don’t want to do. I am simply saying that I want us to have a fresh start. Forget the past, you know?” Draco asked pleading with his mate.

Harry glared at Draco because if he didn’t he would fold and he couldn’t do that. “I’m not your dog Malfoy.”

Whether it was the comment or his mate using his last name as if they were still enemies, Draco couldn’t say, but at that moment his patience and temper snapped and he lunged forward slamming Harry into the wall.

“You’re my dog if I say you are.”

And he was.

Where Harry had been there was now a black dog with floppy ears, green eyes, and a pattern of white fur in the shape of a lightning bolt over one eye, wearing a human clothes that no longer fit.

Draco stared at his mate. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. His mate was a dog. He didn’t know what to do. And then he started to giggle. Down deep in his throat to where it was almost a chuckle, but was just a little to hysterical for it. And then he began to laugh because there was nothing else he could do.

“Bloody Harry Potter,” Draco said between fits of laughter. “…only could happen to bloody Harry Potter.