Madame Scarlet's

Author's Note: Yay! Thanks to Laurel for her mad beta skills! And now for a bit of fluff. Don't worry though, it won't last.

Chapter 9 A Change of Heart

“Do you love him?” Hermione asked casually as if she were discussing the weather. There was no flair of passion in her tone, not even a hint of how she would feel at Harry’s answer, whatever it might be.

“That’s a ridiculous question,” Harry snapped, his own tone full of feeling, the very opposite of his friend’s. They’d been sitting in the common room together long after the rest of the students had gone to bed. Harry had been trying to explain how he felt about Malfoy after she had prodded at dinner, and several times since, about the cold shoulder he continued to give the blond on a daily basis. It was obvious she had picked up on some nuance in her reading and was set on testing her wild theory. Harry, of course, knew that Malfoy was his Mate, he felt it in every bone of his body, but it didn’t change the fact that they were enemies. How could he possibly live out the rest of his existence with Draco Malfoy of all people? The boy infuriated him as much as he aroused him. Either way, he refused to give into Hermione’s persistent nature by letting her in on their little secret. He knew she had a hunch, but she would be far less annoying over it if she couldn’t confirm her theory that Malfoy was indeed Harry’s Mate.

Plus, if she knew for sure she would be obligated to tell her boyfriend and Harry didn’t need any of the Weasleys attacking him for this, especially not Ron.

“Harry, be reasonable,” she huffed. Her monotone cadence wasn’t because she didn’t care. She was simply exhausted trying to keep Harry’s temper in check, and sick of hearing about the lithe Slytherin all day, every day. It was more than she could take and the combination sapped all of her energy. “You mention him constantly, you’re always watching him, you only spark to life anymore when he’s near. Harry, you’re obviously smitten.”

“I’m attracted to him, sure, but who isn’t?” Harry shot back. “You yourself once said how perfect he’d be if he were only a decent human being.”

Hermione blushed and shook her head. “That’s not the same. My acknowledging that the boy has unmatched style and grace is a little different than your ogling him in Potions.”

“I don’t ogle,” Harry corrected, crossing his arms firmly across his chest as if that were the end of that matter. “He’s like me, he’s an Incubus, too. I’m just drawn to him because of that, nothing else.”

“So then do you think someone else is your Mate?” Hermione asked, seeing if she could shift the conversation away from Malfoy for even a moment.

“The book said it could be years, decades even, before I find them,” Harry recited, trying to make a point while avoiding a direct answer to her question. “It’s unlikely that it would be someone I’ve always known.”

“Unlikely but not impossible,” Hermione countered. She had done her research and in ten percent of the Cambion cases their Mates had been close to them before the change. Hermione had gone back and forth about how she would feel if she were right. At first the idea appalled her, knowing that if Harry was destined to be with the smirking bastard for the rest of his life then it would mean he would be in her life forever as well. Gradually she shifted into acceptance because, really, this was all about what was best for Harry. After Harry had told her the details of their last encounter, however, Hermione began wondering if Malfoy even had the emotional capacity to make someone like Harry happy in the long term or if it would only end in heart break for her friend. Now she wasn’t sure what she felt, but she knew that there was something between the boys and she felt that it needed to be explored, if only to get Harry to lighten up a bit. He’d been so testy since coming into his inheritance.

“It’s impossible to think that even if Malfoy was my Mate that I could stand to build a life with him. We hate each other,” Harry grumbled. It always came back to that. Just when he thought that he could figure out a way to make things work, Draco did or said something to change his mind. It would probably be like that forever.

“He doesn’t seem to hate you anymore,” Hermione observed, but Harry shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change the way I feel,” he replied softly.

“Maybe you could just have a talk with him, try and come to some sort of agreement,” Hermione suggested wisely.

“You mean, see if he’ll wear a gag while we have sex?” Harry asked sarcastically.

Hermione rolled her eyes but snickered in spite of herself at the image of Draco walking around all day with a ball gag. “Perhaps he’d be into it,” she mused.

A look of abject horror crossed Harry’s face as the image of Hermione and Ron in some sort of erotic bondage scenario took hold of his conscious thought. “Really? Did you have to go there?” Harry asked, but Hermione just continued to giggle.

Finally the two retired to bed after Hermione professed that she’d be useless in her classes the following day if she didn’t get at least a few hours sleep. Harry felt guilty for keeping her up but he’d been feeling so alone lately and it was nice to be able to talk to someone who would listen, even if he didn’t particularly care for her advice.

Still, maybe she had a point. Harry would have to come to terms with things eventually; perhaps he really should just pull Draco to the side and have it out with him so that they could work things out.

As Harry tossed and turned in bed he decided he couldn’t wait until morning, he couldn’t take his lack of concentration, constant aches, and persistent worries any longer. He had to see Draco now and he had to figure things out once and for all. So, with renewed determination, he set out with his map and cloak to sneak downstairs and wake the boy up if he had to.

Getting into the Slytherin common room was easy enough when he spotted Pansy sneaking out into the Corridor. He just slipped inside as she was slipping out and crept through the dorms until he stumbled into one where Blaise was sleeping soundly in the nearest bed; he knew Draco shared a room with him so he figured he must be in the right place.

Still cloaked in darkness with the added protection of his invisibility cloak, Harry snuck in and quietly shifted the curtains on a few beds until he saw the telltale white blond of Draco’s hair peaking out from under a heavy green bedspread. The boy truly looked angelic as he slept, his lips parted slightly and his hair disheveled and glowing brilliantly in the dim candlelight. Best of all, the boy wasn’t complaining or being rude; in this state he could almost forgive him of anything. Harry reached out and ran his fingertips along the Slytherin’s cheek, feeling a thrill run through him as he did. There was no doubt about it –this was his Mate. Harry had never felt such an inescapable pull toward another human being in all his life as he did with Draco.

He didn’t know how long he stood there just watching the boy sleep, but at some point, Malfoy shifted and started clutching his blanket tightly. It became fairly obvious rather quickly that the boy was in the throws of some terrible nightmare by the way his face scrunched up and his body kept tossing and turning.

Harry didn’t know what to do; he wanted to soothe the boy but he would rather not be caught there in his room like a weird stalker. His heart wrenched when Malfoy started to whine and shake his head violently, as if arguing with someone. “No,” he cried. “Please, don’t take him away from me.”

His entire body tensed as he leaned closer to make out what the boy was mumbling. “You can’t take Harry away,” Draco continued sleepily. “I love him.”

The wall around Harry’s heart crumbled and the muscle began to pound frantically in his chest at the words and what they could mean. Could that be true, could Draco actually love him? The implications of those simple words weighed heavily on his heart, but Harry knew in that moment that he had to at least try to make things work with the often-obnoxious Slytherin.

Throwing caution to the wind Harry slipped into bed beside Draco, spooning up against his back and gently caressing the boy into a calm sleep. “Shh,” he whispered, running his fingers through Draco’s platinum locks. “Everything will be fine. No one is going to steal me away from you,” he promised.

The words seemed to sooth Draco tremendously and before long his breathing became even once more and the blond snuggled back into Harry, clutching the boy’s hand beneath the invisibility cloak. Harry didn’t last long after that. The comforting feel of the Slytherin pressed against him coupled with the weeks of sleepless nights had Harry close his eyes and fall almost instantly into one of the most peaceful slumbers he’d had his whole life.

----------------------------------------------------

Draco’s week had been rather horrid since the unexpected visit from his father. For once he was thankful that the Gryffindor was ignoring him because every time he thought of what he had promised to do his stomach lurched and his throat filled with bile. Regardless of how much upheaval his life had endured the past few weeks; Draco had apparently managed to get a decent night’s sleep. He woke up Friday morning feeling refreshed and brand new.

It wasn’t until he tried to turn over and discovered a weight draped over him that he began to panic. Slowly he calmed himself, trying to be logical about the possibilities of what was happening. He thought momentarily that Blaise had climbed into bed with him after he’d fallen asleep –he worried for a brief moment that he had fucked the persistent housemate and then simply fell asleep with him there, but he could clearly remember going to bed alone the night before and he certainly didn’t feel sated. Still, there was no arm, just a heavy invisible weight pinning him to the mattress.

His next thought was that he had woken up late and some of the other Slytherins’ had pulled some sort of binding prank on him. He silently went through every spell he knew and couldn’t think of anything that would make him feel like this. Some unknown thing was holding him tightly, yet he wasn’t at all frightened.

Eventually the grip slackened slightly and Draco shifted enough to be able to see his attacker, but no one was there. Carefully he freed one of his arms and reached up to poke at the obviously solid, yet invisible, object holding him in place. Relief washed over him when he realized what it was. He pushed at the soft fabric and gasped as it revealed Harry’s sweet sleeping face. Draco thought for sure it was just one of the younger Slytherin’s with a toy invisibility cloak they picked up at Zonko’s, but now that he saw who it was he also noticed the opulence and detail of the newly revealed garment as well.

“Potter,” he whispered, nudging the boy lightly. “Potter,” he called softly again when Harry didn’t even budge.

“Five more minutes,” Harry whined, curling up against Draco’s body. The sensation filled him with a contented bliss like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He gave in at once, pulling the boy into a tighter embrace as he sunk deeper into the mattress.

He tried to wait as long as he could without disturbing the sleeping boy, but his mind raced with questions. Why was he here? What did it mean? Has Harry finally accepted him as his Mate? Will this convince Father to leave him alone? Dozens of questions all vying for an answer and Draco found himself unable to sleep any longer. “I can’t wait five minutes,” Draco whispered. “Harry, wake up.”

Harry stirred in his arms, rubbing those brilliant emerald eyes before blinking rapidly –obviously trying to remember where he was.

“Good morning, Sleepyhead,” Draco cooed beside him, running his hand surreptitiously along Harry’s torso, slipping beneath the fabric of his worn tee shirt to caress the tight muscles underneath. “Last night was magnificent, wasn’t it?” he sighed, a smile dancing at the edges of his mouth

Harry’s eyes widened and his entire body tensed. “What?” he rasped, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Last night,” Draco repeated. “Don’t you remember? Personally I’ll never forget the way you… well, you know what you did,” he added with a wink.

Draco didn’t think that Harry’s eyes could get any wider, but somehow he managed that exact thing. “You… I mean, I… er… we… what did we do exactly?” he stammered, clearly confused. His heart was racing; pounding so fast that Draco could hear it clearly in the quiet space.

“You are so adorable when you’re flustered,” Draco commented, and Harry seemed to relax instantly.

“You were trying to have one over on me,” he grumbled, though he didn’t seem angry.

“Trying? I’d say I succeeded. You should have seen your face,” he teased, not stopping his assault on Harry’s torso with his fingertips. He loved the sensation, every new inch of skin sent a bolt of energy through him.

Harry yawned and settled in beside Draco as if he belonged there; the casual and easy nature of it made Draco’s heart rate speed up. Things seemed to be finally falling into place, but not in the way he had expected. After their first wild night together, Draco assumed that his relationship with Harry would boil over before eventually simmering into this warm comfort that he already felt with the brunet.

“So nothing happened,” Harry clarified, more a statement than a question.

“Trust me, if something had happened you would have remembered,” Draco replied with a wink. Harry just chuckled and pressed a soft kiss against Draco’s bare shoulder, sending shivers down the boy’s spine. “So why are you here?” he asked, not wanting to break the light mood but feeling like he needed answers.

“I came to get you up. I wanted to talk to you and I couldn’t sleep. When I got here though I just couldn’t bear to wake you and then you started having a nightmare, mumbling in your sleep and whatnot, so I stayed to try and clear away the bad dreams,” Harry replied honestly. Draco was surprised by the boy’s candor. He’d always known Harry to be secretive and aloof and wondered briefly what had changed his mind.

“What did I say?” Draco asked, suddenly worried by what might have slipped out while he was sleeping. He could remember dreaming about his father and Snape stealing Harry and refusing to let Draco see him.

“Oh, nothing much,” Harry chuckled. “Just grand professions of love for me,” he teased.

“What?!” Draco hissed, his eyes growing wide.

“Joshing,” Harry assured him, biting into his lip and looking away sharply. Draco could tell he was exaggerating, but he didn’t know to what extent. Had he really confessed that he loved the boy while he was unconscious? Draco wasn’t in denial of his feelings, but that didn’t mean he was ready to tell Harry all about them. They had barely spoken a civilized word ever since the revelation that they would be practically forced to spend the rest of their lives together.

“I can’t be held accountable for anything I said while sleeping,” Draco announced, more defensively than he would have liked.

“Right,” Harry agreed, looking slightly disappointed. “Well, I should probably get back to my own room before Ron and Hermione send out a search party.”

Draco grabbed on to Harry’s arm involuntarily, not wanting to part with the boy like this. “What was it you wanted to talk to me about last night?” he asked, trying to stall.

“Us,” Harry replied. “But it can wait for another time.”

“Oh,” Draco pouted, trying to think of something more eloquent to respond with but failing miserably.

“See you,” Harry muttered, making to slide out from under the covers. Draco made one last ditch effort to fix things before Harry walked out and went back to ignoring him, and he leapt up, grabbing Harry’s face between his palms and pulling the dark-haired boy into a fierce kiss.

Harry seemed shocked at first but almost immediately melted into the Slytherin, gripping the boy’s waist for leverage. Both were panting for breath when they broke apart, Harry’s hold on Draco never slacking. “Just because I can’t be held accountable for the things I say when I’m sleeping, doesn’t mean there isn’t any truth to the words,” Draco whispered against Harry’s lips.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry replied in an equally low tone. The vibration from the Gryffindor’s deep voice made Draco flick out his tongue to run it along Harry’s bottom lips one last time before letting the boy go and letting himself fall back to the mattress.

Harry released him as well and got to his feet on the other side of the bed from Draco’s roommates where no one would be able to see him. “Would you sit with me in Potions?” he asked shyly and Draco beamed at him.

“Won’t that give Weasley a coronary?” Draco asked with a light laugh.

“Probably,” Harry replied with a shrug.

“Then I’m in,” Draco assured the boy, warming under the light of Harry’s glowing smile. “I’ll see you there.”

With the promise of another meeting, Harry flung the cloak around his body and disappeared. Draco could hear the door to his room open and shut again and winced against the momentary flair up of pain that flashed through his body from Harry’s absence. He wondered how he could ever hope to live a normal life if he couldn’t be away from Harry for even a second without the pain returning.

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It wasn’t as if Draco had actually said ‘I love you’ to Harry’s face, but the blond had still inadvertently admitted his feelings, which made Harry feel light as a feather. He didn’t know why but the idea that Draco Malfoy might be in love with him didn’t scare him as much as his logical mind knew it should. He was still terrified that his life would be a miserable string of arguments with the boy, but waking up beside him that morning had been one of the best ways Harry could think of to wake up. The first thing he had seen were those shining, metallic gray eyes staring back at him and he felt so comfortable.

The pain returned instantly when Draco had tried to deny his own unconscious words, but the Slytherin had corrected himself and soothed Harry back into a tranquil state and he was grateful for the small compassion. Whether it was honest or not, he had no idea, but the assurance set his heart aflutter and distracted him from the pain in his flesh all through breakfast.

Harry was in his regular seat in Potions with Hermione seated directly next to him and Ron at the end of their row on the far side. There was just enough room for Draco to sit next to him, and Harry smiled to himself as the blond walked into the room. Draco smirked back, his eyes flicking between Harry and his two Gryffindor friends before walking over and taking the last chair next to his Mate.

“Potter,” he greeted formally, bowing his head slightly.

“Malfoy,” Harry greeted in turn, unable to keep the smile from his face no matter how hard he tried.

A moment later Harry was drawn along Draco’s gaze to just over his own shoulder where saw Hermione calming a very red-faced Ron. “Why is the ferret sitting with Harry?” he hissed.

“We’ve discussed this, Ron. You know what Harry is,” she whispered back trying not to draw unneeded attention to their conversation.

“But its Harry… and Malfoy,” Ron whined, looking more green than red all of a sudden as Hermione’s words began to sink in.

“Yes, and I think you might need to get used to it,” she replied, her gaze flicking to Harry and Draco sitting as close as physically possible without being in one another’s lap.

Ron made a noise that sounded like a cross between and groan and a whimper and let his head fall to the desk while Hermione rubbed slow, soothing circles into his back. “He’ll be alright,” she whispered to Harry unnecessarily. Harry had known that it would be when he invited Draco to sit with him. He knew the redhead would be overly dramatic and find the idea distasteful, but he also knew that eventually Ron would be tolerant even if he was never thrilled with the idea. He also knew that any hard time Ron chose to give him over the Draco situation would be returned with taunting of his own about Ron’s sex life with Hermione.

“Does she know about us being Mates then?” Draco asked quietly beside him.

Harry rolled his eyes and shrugged. “She does now,” he muttered, sparing a glance at Hermione who looked both smug and victorious. “I hope you realize she’ll never let up now,” Harry chastised Draco. “She’ll be planning our wedding before you know it.”

Draco chuckled and smiled down the row at Harry’s friend. “I like chocolate cake,” he instructed, “and I’m not terribly fond of Muggle suits. I would prefer to be married in proper dress robes.”

“Noted,” Hermione replied with a giggle as both Ron and Harry both groaned simultaneously, the latter with a brilliant blush tinting his cheeks.

As Snape flew into the room like the giant bat that he was, he quickly took note of the unlikely pair in front of him. He wasn’t sure what angered him most, the fact that the two boys seemed to be together at last or the fact that they were openly smiling and looking giddy in his classroom as if mocking him.

He narrowed his eyes dangerously and stalked up to the now silent pair, leaning his face down so that only Harry and Draco would hear his words. “I hope you haven’t forgotten about our detention tonight, Mr. Potter. I’ll be looking forward to the deep lesson I have in store for you.”

Harry tensed and Draco immediately clutched his hand under the table, twining their fingers together. “I won’t let him take you from me,” Draco whispered as soon as the Professor floated away.

The words reminded Harry of the desperate pleas he’d witnessed the night before as the delicate blond slept. Harry let his head fall onto Draco’s shoulder, not caring what it looked like to the rest of the class. He felt safe in Draco’s arms, sheltered and warm as if someone was taking care of him for once. It had been Harry’s job to save the world, maybe now it was time for someone to save him.

Author's Note: Aw, what a happy little couple... sort of.