Dragon Hunt

“I think I blacked out,” Draco muttered, coming to awareness slowly. Harry was collapsed on top of him and still inside of him.

“Me too,” Harry answered with a chuckle. They stayed like that, panting for along moment. “This can’t be comfortable for you,” he commented, noticing that his mate was practically folded in half, his knees pressed into his chest with Harry pinning him that way.

Draco tightened his anus, gripping Harry’s soft cock momentarily. Harry groaned in response. “I kind of like it,” he said.

“Mmm,” Harry hummed. “Me too.”

Draco squeezed again, milking another contented hum from his mate. So he did it again and again and again until Harry began rocking into him again. Harry’s eyes drifted open, looking down into those crystal blue eyes that haunted him. His arm slid from their place under Draco’s knees and held the blond close before quickly rolling them over. “Ride me,” he sighed when Draco had gotten his bearings.

“Yeah,” the paler man said, sitting up fully and slowly rocking up and down, his head falling back and eyes falling shut. “Yeah.”

Harry lifted his torso up, resting on his elbows behind him, watching his mate finding his pleasure in him. With one hand he reached up and ran his hand along the pale scars stretching across his mate’s shoulder, chest, and abdomen. “I’m so sorry that I couldn’t protect you,” he sighed.

Draco’s eyes opened at that, seeing the tears on his mate’s face. He wanted to tell Harry that it wasn’t his fault and that there was no one to blame, and to reassure him, but he was tired of Harry trying to carry on deep conversations in the middle of more pleasurable matters. It was, quite frankly, annoying. So instead, he went about making his mate forget for a little while.




“Leo,” Harry muttered, twisting in his sleep. The movement woke Draco and he watched his mate’s uneasy sleep. “Leo,” he said again, a dopey smile on his face. Draco frowned, but couldn’t find jealousy. He knew Harry was loyal to him, more so than he had been to Harry. He quickly shook away that degrading memory. Harry smelled simply content. Draco smiled, glad that Harry was happy, at peace. He was even more glad that Harry was safe and that they were together.

It was his stomach that disturbed his peace.

Draco groaned and dragged himself from the bed, wincing in discomfort. My gods, he hurt. He only smiled and shook his head at the thought. He looked around the tent, seeking out the sack he’d brought in and found it dropped at the floor beside the chair currently occupied by his and Harry’s egg.

Draco smiled at the sight of it. Days ago he had not truly believed that he would live to see his son bo—urr—hatched. He thought that the pleasure of that would go to someone else and raising his son would fall on another’s shoulders and he had almost come to accept it, but not now.

“What are you smiling about?” Harry asked gently from the bed. Draco turned and his smile brightened. Harry smiled back. “What?”

“I just—I don’t think I’ve been this happy before,” he admitted with a sigh before ducking down and grabbing the pack and then sweeping the egg into his arms before hurriedly returning to the bed, where Harry held the blankets open for him and then greeted him with a kiss.

The pair shared the bread, cheese, and fruit the found packed away and drank deeply from the bottle of wine they had also found packed, feeding eachother and licking stray drops of wine from eachother’s chins, but never was a word exchanged, only looks and laughter and the purr that guided Harry and the scent that guided Draco.

It wasn’t until they’d both had their fill and they’d settled back down, curling around their egg, that Draco began speaking again. “How’s your memory?” he asked.

“Good,” Harry responded and gave no further explanation.

Draco waited a few moments before digging deeper. “What does ‘good’ mean?”

Harry smiled and shrugged all at the same time. “Things are starting to come back, but it’s all broken up and—some things don’t make sense.”

“Tell me?”

The brunet chewed on his lower lip. “Well, I remember this boy. He’s about my age and he’s, well, huge. I remember him beating me up and stealing my food. But—but then I gave him our egg.”

“That would be your cousin Dudley,” Draco answered easily. “You grew up with him and your aunt and uncle. They weren’t very nice to you. But, when the last time you stayed with them, Dudley was kind to you. He helped you. And when you made up your mind to come rescue me and to hide the egg while you did, you entrusted our son to your cousin.” Harry nodded through all of Draco’s explanation, his eyes staring, unfocused. “What else do you remember?”

Harry blushed and shook his head.

“What?” Draco asked. Harry’s mouth remained closed. “Tell me,” Draco urged.

Harry looked truly reluctant. “I remember a man with brown hair and gray eyes. I remember him making my heart flutter with a look. I remember—“

“Cedric,” Draco answered quickly, not quite wanting to know everything Harry remembered, though he knew most of it in vivid detail. “He was your first lover, your only lover beside me.”

“He died,” Harry said quickly. Draco looked up, realizing Harry had never really talked about that night in the graveyard before. “I remember grabbing this—cup?—and then we were in a graveyard and I knew. I just knew that we shouldn’t be there. I saw this man with huge teeth walking towards me and I knew that—Cedric was dead before I could even warn him properly. And then I was trapped. He cut my arm,” he muttered, looking down to run his fingers over the scar Draco had noticed before and never asked about. “And then he was there—the snake. I hated him and feared him and—There was pain, so much pain. I remember screaming, unable to hold it in. It hurt so . . .” he stopped and sighed. “Then it’s gone. I can’t remember.”

“You never told me about that before,” Draco admitted. “But according to the rumors, you fought him and escaped from him. You brought Cedric’s body back, which was his last wish.” Draco kissed his lover’s temple, offering comfort.

Harry nodded, thinking hard for something to lighten the mood. “I remember a girl with bushy brown hair punching you. I remember laughing at that.”

Draco gulped and blushed, rubbing his nose. “One of your best friends, Hermione.” Harry laughed at him again. “You shouldn’t be mean to me,” Draco said haughtily.

“Aww, I’m sorry,” Harry teased, curling Draco into his arms again, burying his face in the blond locks. “Forgive me.”

“Do you remember anything else?” Draco asked.

“About ten faces all with red hair.”

“The Weasley clan,” Draco said softly. “They’re kind of your adopted family.”

“You.”

“Huh?”

“I remember you. We were rivals, weren’t we? That’s why I refused your touch for so long? I was unsure of your motives. And I was hurt, after the graveyard? But I remember your patience. And I remember your smile. And playing chess. And reading your book, and that’s when I knew . . .”

“Knew what?”

“That you loved me. And you would make me happy. And that you would complete me in ways I didn’t know I needed,” Harry answered.

Draco sighed contentedly and leaned even further into Harry’s embrace. “Do you remember someone named Leo?” Draco asked, curious to explain Harry’s dream. He could feel Harry’s smiling. “Who is Leo?”

Harry pulled away so fast, Draco couldn’t protest. He rolled over to face his mate, seeing that he had scooped up their egg and now sat cross-legged on the bed with the egg cradled by his entwined legs. “Leo,” Harry sighed, brushing his hand over the surface of the egg. “That’s what the greasy bat called our son. He said he read it off a tapestry or something.”

Draco giggled at Harry’s description of who could only be Snape even as he moved to sit beside Harry, his hand joining his mate’s on the swirling surface of the egg. “Leave it to you to father a lion.”

“The bat said something similar,” Harry said. “But I don’t understand.”

Draco laid his head on Harry’s shoulder. “My family’s curse. Fate chooses our names and when we turn seventeen, we gain attributes of our names. It’s why I’m a dragon.”

“And our son will be a lion?”

“It’s what Leo means,” Draco responded. “But each generation transforms differently. He may not transform so much as just gain attributes of a lion.”

“So, we won’t really know for seventeen years?” Harry asked. Draco only nodded in response. They both watched their hands running over the egg, feeling their magics working together and the love of their family. Suddenly the egg rolled off of Harry’s lap, plopping onto the soft mattress. “Umm . . .” Harry questioned, looking confused.

“Did he just roll on his own?” Draco asked. His question was answered when the egg seemed to shake. “Is he—“

“Guess this is our version of a first kick?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded. “I think it means we’re going to have to find some place more secure than a padded chair to keep him,” he laughed. “He’s probably as clumsy as you,” he teased. Harry pouted and then tumbled Draco back onto the mattress, tickling at his sides. Draco let out a yelp of surprise and the pair found themselves in a tangle of limbs, tickling eachother. “Beg for mercy!” Draco commanded when he thought he finally had Harry pinned.

“Never!” Harry growled, tumbling his mate over again and pushing him into the mattress. “You!” This went back and forth until a terrible racket outside of the tent startled them both. They both jumped up from the bed on alert, pulling on the pants they found beside the bed.

“Stay here with the egg,” Draco said quietly, stepping towards the entrance of the tent.

“No!” Harry argued in a harsh whisper. “You’re just as weakened and wounded as I am at the point.”

Draco rolled his eyes, but chose not to argue that point. Instead, he brought up others. “Neither of us have wands. Even if we did, you wouldn’t know how to use it. And I am much more in control of my dragon abilities than you at the moment. So sit down and protect our egg!” he hissed, ducking out the door before Harry could argue.