Summons

A/N: Man...AFF really doesn't like this story...


Live, laugh, love, read and review! -Chelsey- -^ ~*-
Chapter Six: Infirmary

Draco practically had to drag an unwilling Harry to the infirmary. At first, the brunette had been completely stubborn, wrapping his legs about those of the chair, locking his arms about the back as if expecting someone to tie his hands like he was some kind of kidnap victim.

Unfortunately for him, the part Veela was much stronger; he'd picked the chair up, fully intending on walking out of the library.

Now, Draco had a grip on his mate's wrist, walking quickly down the hall. Harry's angry voice echoed through the halls. "I am not a Vampire! They're just teeth, you git! I AM NOT A BLOODY VAMPIRE!!!"

For the ninth time, the blonde gave a small growl. He was going to need a potion to fight headache if his mate kept up like this. He nearly ripped the door off its hinges in haste to get through the entrance; his mate was not helping any by screaming and fighting and trying to leave the marks of his nails in the infirmary's doorframe.

Draco flung the other onto an infirmary bed. When the green-eyed boy tried to jump off the mattress, the blonde was forced to hold him down with his own body. "It's just a check-up, Potter! Stop...resisting!"

"What in Merlin's name is happening?!" Madame Pomfrey yelled, bustling out of her office. She stood to the side of them, not sure if she should interfere.

Draco held Harry's hands above the brunette's head. "He's...spazing because I want...him to get a...check-up. STOP IT, DAMN YOU!" he yelled, almost getting a knee to the groin. His grip on the smaller boy's wrist increased as he directed his comments to the medi-witch. "Spell Harry...please! He needs help."

At this, the witch jumped to attention, casting a low key body bind on the boy.

"I'm completely human!" he shrieked. "Let me go! Let me go now, damnit!"

Draco sighed, sitting up to speak to Madame Pomfrey. "I want him checked."

She furrowed her brow. "Whatever for, Mr. Malfoy? He seems perfectly fit if he can fend you off...barely."

"The Headmaster hasn't informed you of the situation; has he?"

The medi-witch gave him a look that said 'I know everything; I just choose not to believe it.' "He has made clear that you are part Veela, and that Mr. Potter is your Destined. However, he did not mention that Mr. Potter would become ill. Seeing as to how Mr. Potter is in a healthy condition, I will need to know as to why you're here." A clipboard appeared in her hands.

"Don't believe him, Madame Pomfrey! I am without a doubt, one-hundred percent human!"

The woman frowned. "What in the world is he ranting about, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I have a feeling that he's a magical being. My guess goes toward Vampire," the Malfoy heir stated calmly as his mate continued to gabber.

The witch's eyes bulged. "I'll inform the Headmaster." She turned to hustle into her office. "Try to calm him, Mr. Malfoy; he's not fond of sleeping draughts."

The blonde pulled a chair over to his bonded's bed. Placing his head to the mattress, he stared at his still mate, who in turn stared at the ceiling. "I don't see why you're flipping out about this, Potter."

Harry closed his eyes. "I don't see why you're so intent on it, Malfoy," the other replied through clenched teeth.

The Veela shook his platinum head. What would the raven-haired boy think if he sad he was worried? Probably laugh at him because he'd think it was a lie. "I just want to know what I'm up against. I can't have you eating me in my sleep; can I?"

"Just like you; always thinking of yourself. Tell me," Harry began, "when's the last time you did something for someone else without it benefiting you?"

The blonde let his gaze fall, thinking on his mate's question. He couldn't remember a time he'd done anything unselfish; in the end, it always got him what he wanted. No wonder he had so few friends...He didn't even think he'd done anything for Blaise, the one who stood beside him with no questions asked, gave him advice in his time of need. When it came down to it, Draco Malfoy was the selfish, arrogant, rich boy everyone associated him with.

Harry chuckled bitterly. "By your silence, I'm guessing you can't remember. Shame; really, it is." Another bout of slight laughter was issued from the green-eyed Savior. "You're pathetic, Malfoy. How in the world do you expect to reach an agreement with me if you continue on this path, hm?"

The blonde hung his head, letting Harry's words sink in. He was right...so was Blaise. He was pathetic, and if he didn't woo Harry his world would officially be over. How lucky could one guy get?

Raising his head, he looked his soon to be lover's body over. Merlin, he was so beautiful, so perfect. Never had he seen such a beautiful person, and he was just avoiding the fact that he could seriously ruin what they might have.

He opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment, Dumbledore walked through the door. : Great: he thought. : Could this old coot have better timing?:

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter," the Headmaster greeted. "Madame Pomfrey informs me that there is a...disruption, shall we say? Would either of you care to elaborate?" His eyes held a twinkle that Draco highly disliked.

Before Draco could utter a sound, Harry spoke. "That git thinks I'm a Vampire! Headmaster, tell him that I'm human...COMPLETELY human!"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Let's run the tests, just in case, Mr. Potter; it would appease Mr. Malfoy. Madame Pomfrey, if you please."

The medi-witch began to scurry about, hooking up magical monitors and pulling out a sterilized needle. She rubbed ointment on Harry's arm as she spoke. "If you're wondering why I'm using muggle methods, it's because I'm playing it safe. Some creatures react to certain magicks differently than normal Wizards," she informed. "Now, you may feel a tiny prick," she jabbed him with the needle. "There we go; just a little blood will do."

Draco winced when the needle went through his mate's skin. He'd never seen anything like the tiny metal rod intruding into the flesh of someone's forearm...But he had seen the Dark Mark being placed on someone.

That process was kind of the reverse of this. Instead of it happening from the outside, it formed on the inside and worked its way out of the skin. He hated how it looked, sounded. The blood poured until you had time to cleanse it properly, and the sound of ripping flesh was enough to make his skin crawl. It was one of the reasons he hated Voldemort. The creature could care less if his followers were hurt, let alone dying. They were like batteries; if they died, they could easily be replaced.

He gave a shudder, recalling the day Marcus Flint had received his Dark Mark. The teen had been so proud to know he would be a part of something his father supported. He'd laughed in a disturbing manner when he'd seen the blood flowing from his left arm. Draco remembered him running his fingers in it, placing the digits to his mouth.

In truth, Draco wasn't supposed to be at those meetings because he wasn't part of the circuit. Voldemort gave him "special invites," favoring the boy of his right hand man. It disgusted him, knowing that the creature thought Draco had Dark potential and would one day lead a division of his fucked up army.

Frankly, Draco would go to whatever side was winning. If Voldemort had the upper hand, he would be part of the Dark, but never a Death Eater. However, the coot was playing with a better deck; he had Harry, his Ace in the hole. And that's when Draco realized that they weren't at war, they were at play. They, the Dark and the Light, had cards in their hands, pawns on a chessboard. Coincidentally, this was just like the muggle game War, whoever had the higher hand got the card, and whoever had the full deck at the end won. And everyone knows that he who holds the Ace of Spades can never be beat. Fucking logic and analogies.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

The voice of Professor Dumbledore snapped him from his train of thought. He turned his eyes to the elder Wizard. "I'm sorry; you were saying?"

The man gave a small, gentle grin. "Mr. Potter is exhausted from trying to fight the body bind, not to mention all that has occurred in less than twenty-four hours. I would like him to remain here until Madame Pomfrey's results come through." He lowered his head slightly, looking at Draco from over the ridge of his half-moon spectacles. "Would you be so kind as to keep him company?"

"I'm fine, Professor," Harry said with a yawn, closing his eyes and settling into his bed. "He can leave...if he wants," he stated, slowly drifting off.

Dumbledore sighed. "Now that he's drugged and sated, I would like a word with you."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Look, I won't bring any harm to him; he m-"

The elder held up a hand. "I trust that you will keep your word, Mr. Malfoy, and I am one of the very few who can say that. However, that is not the matter I wish to discuss."

The Slytherin gave the wizard a slightly confused look. "If that's not it, then what other topic do you have to speak of?" he questioned.

Dumbledore's eyes did that uncanny sparkle thing. "I believe you may be right in believing that Harry is of the supernatural, Mr. Malfoy; I believe you may be very right indeed."

****************************************************************
Okay, I know that the thing with the Dark Mark is wrong, but I wanted to make it more gruesome than the original way. Some of you may ask 'Why isn't Draco being more protective? Why is he being so passive about the medical equipment?' etc.etc. I want that all to progress. I mean, come on, y'all; it has a plot for a reason. Anyway, now that that's out of the way, here's your teaser! -Chelsey- -^ ~*-

The pale boy swept a hand over the Savior's. "What can I give him that he doesn't already have?" he asked simply, stroking the warm flesh.

The elder Wizard's smile turned soft as he gave a small nod. "Love, my boy."

Draco's eyes strayed to him, questioning the Headmaster's answer. "Everybody loves him; he's Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, Savior of the Wizarding World...How can you say he doesn't have love?"

*Dude...What the hell is up with my italics?*