"You were about to do something daft, weren't you?"
Harry turned his head where it was resting on Draco's shoulder to look up at his mate, the glow of the fire flickering warmly over bare skin still flushed from their previous exertions as they lay in bed in their private room at Hogwarts.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked in amusement.
Draco arched a brow as he slid one arm behind his head and looked down at Harry. "Don't think it escaped my notice Potter that when it looked as though everything was about to go pear-shaped, you had your wand out and body tensed for a fight."
Harry hid a grin against Draco's warm chest, green eyes bright with a guilty sort of enjoyment. "I admit no such thing."
Draco rolled his eyes but continued to absently card his fingers through Harry's hair.
Harry chuckled and closed his eyes, body languid and relaxed as he leaned into the soothing touch of his mate. "You know," he said into the stillness, "with everything going on, I'd almost forgotten about the match tomorrow."
The gentle finger-combing paused for a second and Harry made a noise of protest that caused Draco's lips to quirk into an affectionate smirk.
"I assume you're speaking of the first Slytherin versus Gryffindor match of the year?" Draco replied, resuming his hair stroking. "Are you ready for it Potter?"
Harry grinned, eyes still shut. "The question is Malfoy, are you ready?"
Draco snorted lightly. "Care to make a wager?"
Harry opened his eyes and glanced up with a grin. "Yeah, all right. What do I get if Gryffindor win?"
"Blow job in the back alley of the Hog's Head."
Harry barked out a laugh. "And if you win?"
"The same," Draco replied simply.
"Deal," Harry agreed with a nod, eyes still sparkling with laughter. He settled back down into Draco's side with a sigh. "It feels good to talk about quidditch like it's the most important thing going on in our lives, isn't it? It makes a nice change from all the drama that's been going on since term began."
Draco made a noise of agreement and they fell into a comfortable silence, Harry idly dragging his fingers back and forth over Draco's bare hip, smiling in contentment. He honestly couldn't believe how happy he was. When he'd come into his Omega inheritance, he'd pictured a tough road ahead with lots of heartache and anxiety, attempting to find 'the one,' and now he had a mate that he could actually see himself with for the rest of his life. The fact that it was Draco Malfoy still made him chuckle at times but he couldn't deny that once they had moved beyond their previous feelings and misconceptions, Draco was a brilliant match for him. They still bantered and teased, but now it was decidedly good-natured and not meant to sting, and Draco was protective and startlingly caring when it mattered most.
Harry turned and propped his chin on his arm across Draco's chest, peering up at his mate in thoughtful silence. Draco had his eyes closed and was breathing deeply, clearly just on the edge of sleep. He was probably exhausted after a week of sleepless nights and the stress of the inquiry. Harry gazed at him, his heart swelling so much that he thought his chest may burst with the warmth and fulfilment and incredible joy of it all.
Harry blinked and suddenly realised with astonishing clarity that he loved Draco.
"Quit staring at me Potter, it's unnerving," Draco suddenly said into the stillness without opening his eyes.
Harry smiled and it was on the tip of his tongue to say it; to just blurt it out because why should he keep it inside? His mate should know that he loved him.
Pale grey eyes opened and drifted down to meet his gaze and Harry quickly lost his courage under the sudden scrutiny.
"Sorry," Harry mumbled instead, smiling sheepishly. "Just plotting ways to knock you off your broom tomorrow."
Draco snorted softly before his lids drifted closed once more.
Harry smiled and settled back down beside him, closing his eyes and allowing sleep to come; heart content.
. . . .
Harry looked up in amusement as Ron slid out of their booth at the Hog's Head and held his brimming pint above his head while calling for their attention. The entire group of eighth years were gathered around adjoining tables at the old Hogsmeade pub and fell silent upon Ron's somewhat inebriated shout.
"I'd like to make a toast," he began magnanimously, "to Mister Draco Malfoy." He made a slight bow to a startled Draco, beer spilling over onto his hand a little. "And to the seventh year Slytherin Beater - who-I-do-not-know-the-name-of - who smashed that Bludger in Harry's direction and distracted Malfoy long enough for Harry to catch the Snitch right out from under his nose."
Harry grinned as Draco made an indignant scoffing sound beside him and crossed his arms over his chest. Draco had indeed been so busy glaring daggers at his Beater that Harry had been given the perfect opportunity to locate the Snitch and grab it out of the sky before his mate even knew what was going on.
A cheer went up round the table, even from the Slytherins who were looking at Draco with unconcealed mirth.
Harry chuckled at his mate's sour expression and wrapped his hands around his large mug of hot chocolate. His hands still felt stiff and frozen after forgetting to wear his gloves for the game and the October wind had been bitterly cold on his exposed skin.
Ron slid back into place, a satisfied grin on his pink-cheeked face as he took a sip of his drink.
Harry took in Draco's sullen expression and leaned in to whisper, "I know Gryffindor won but, I'd be happy to blow you off in the alley instead if it'll wipe that cross look off your face."
Draco's lips twitched imperceptibly. He took his time taking a long draught of Firewhiskey before cocking his head towards Harry. "Seeing as you cheated and all Potter, I should think that that's the least you could do."
Harry stifled a laugh and nodded in concurrence. He finished off of his hot chocolate, relishing the melted heap of whipped cream in the bottom of the mug with a sigh. He looked around at all of his chatting classmates, a feeling of warm contentment washing over him. The pub's pervading air smelt of stale ale and salted chips, and suddenly reminded Harry that he was famished after the match.
All of the eighth years had decided to celebrate the game - regardless of the outcome - at the Hog's Head, and Harry was pleased to see the house unity efforts still going strong. The only one missing was Daphne Greengrass, who had been on house-arrest with the Nundu clan since the inquiry. Except for Harry and Draco, no one else knew the truth of Daphne's whereabouts, just that she was terribly ill and remaining at home on Healer's orders.
Harry's stomach gave a noticeable growl and he decided it was time to do something about it. "I'm going to get some chips, you want anything?"
"I'll just have some of yours," Draco replied absently before returning to his plant-based potions conversation with Neville.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Over my dead body," he muttered under his breath as he climbed awkwardly out of the booth and headed for the slightly congested bar area. He waited with his arms resting on the sticky countertop, absently watching the bartender as he pulled pint after pint with a grim expression. He was a far cry from easy-going Tom at the Leaky.
"Harry Potter?"
Harry inwardly cringed and turned to the wizard seated on the tall bar stool to his right. "Yeah...?" he replied, trying his best to avoid sounding wary or annoyed - even though he was both.
The wizard angled his body towards him a little with a toothy grin, half-empty pint in one hand. "Wow, you're so much shorter than I imagined."
Harry just looked at him blankly. "Sorry to disappoint you," he finally responded dryly before turning away, wishing the bartender would hurry up and come over so that he could order and then retreat to the safety of his table.
"Oh no, it's fine, I like 'em short," the man dismissed, as though that was a compliment.
For fuck's sake, Harry thought irritably, running a hand through his shower-dampened hair as he always did when frustrated with a situation. The man was clearly an Alpha, but looked to be at least twenty years older than him.
He shot the man a thin smile and turned away, trying to signal the bartender with wide, desperate eyes. It seemed to work as he caught Harry's gaze and made his way over.
Harry nearly sighed in relief. "Hi, can I get an order of chips and vinegar please?"
The barman nodded curtly and turned away to scribble on a soiled piece of parchment before sending the paper fluttering off to the kitchen.
"Is your boss here?"
Harry glanced at his unwanted companion while he handed over his money to the bartender. "My… what?" he replied distractedly.
The man's lips stretched into an oily smile that made Harry's skin crawl. "Your Alpha; that Malfoy boy."
Harry felt indignant rage flare up his spine and his hands clenched on the curved edge of the bar. "He is not my boss," he responded through clenched teeth.
The man laughed loudly, obnoxiously, and Harry had never wanted to punch someone quite so badly.
A fist suddenly connected with the man's cheek and sent him sprawling onto the floor.
Harry turned in surprise to see Blaise standing next to him.
"Sorry to step in but I thought if I punched him instead of you, it wouldn't make the papers," he offered in way of explanation, an amused smile on his face. "Bad publicity and all that."
The man groaned from his position on the floor and held a hand to his cheek as he blinked blearily up at Blaise in confusion, looking as though he'd ingested enough alcohol to keep him puzzled long enough for Harry to make his escape.
Harry turned his back on him. "You didn't have to do that," he said to Blaise, then narrowed suspicious eyes as he suddenly thought of something. "I'm not going to change my mind, you know."
Blaise grinned and followed Harry as he began to slowly push his way back through the crowd towards the Hogwart's tables.
"Then why haven't you told Draco?"
Harry looked back over his shoulder. "About you? What makes you think I haven't?"
Blaise snorted. "Because he hasn't tried to rip my head off yet."
Harry rolled his eyes but turned back around without saying anything. In the wake of the inquiry, he'd honestly forgotten all about Blaise's offer, and now… well it just didn't seem important. It would feel like boasting if he suddenly told Draco about it, or as if he was trying to make his mate jealous.
"I won't stop trying," Blaise suddenly said, voice pitched low enough so that the people around them couldn't hear. "Especially since you've yet to be claimed Potter." His gaze pointedly dropped to Harry's unblemished neck a second before he turned and walked off to the other table.
Harry swallowed, hating that feeling of vulnerability that always washed over him any time someone mentioned the fact that he was "unclaimed," as though he was susceptible to random people just grabbing him and hauling him off to wherever they wanted; to do whatever they wanted.
Harry tried to shake it off as he walked over to his own table and slid back into his seat.
"Where's Draco?" he asked Ron, glancing at Neville, the only other occupant of their table, who appeared to be nodding off against the back of the seat.
"Too many late nights, that one," Ron observed with a smirk. "Toilets," he said, turning back to answer Harry's question before finishing off the remainder of his Butterbeer.
Harry nodded and sat back with a happy sigh as his order of warm, salted chips doused in vinegar arrived at the table and drifted down to rest in front of him. He dug in, blowing on each chip a moment before popping it into his mouth and chewing with a blissful groan.
Ron reached across to pluck a few from the grease-soaked paper tray.
"Here we are," Hermione announced, returning to the table suddenly, carrying a tray of what looked like many, many shot glasses filled with an amber liquid which appeared to be smoking.
Harry raised his brow as she slid into the booth next to Ron. "Erm, Hermione? What are all those?"
"Firewhiskey," she replied, glancing down at the twinkling glasses.
Harry blinked at her as he reached for another soggy chip. "Since when do you drink Firewhiskey? And why so many?"
Hermione pushed the tray into the centre of the table and folded her arms. "They're for you, well, for all of us really, but mostly for you to practice with."
"Huh?" Harry replied as he chewed, feeling as though he was missing something. "You know I don't like alcohol; always gives me a massive headache."
"Yes but Draco was just telling us about the party his mum is planning for the two of you, and he mentioned that he wished you had a little more practice at being… refined."
Harry frowned, slightly hurt by that comment; Draco had never mentioned to him that he felt that way. "And drinking Firewhiskey makes you fall into that category?" he replied doubtfully.
Hermione shrugged and glanced down at the loaded tray. "It's what Draco always orders, isn't it?"
"I suppose," Harry replied blandly, following her gaze and grimacing at the shiny glasses which were still emitting a few wisps of smoke. "This many will get me pissed though."
"I'll help." Ron grinned and grabbed one of the glasses. "Cheers!"
The truth was, Harry had been a little nervous of the upcoming party at Malfoy Manor. He knew he didn't really fit in with Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy's usual crowd of Purebloods and society page friends. He also knew it wasn't only clan members that would be attending the fancy gathering, so he needed to remember to keep his mouth shut about anything Nundu-related, as well as being on his best behaviour.
It was the perfect recipe for a very stressful evening.
And now that he knew that Draco was worried about him fitting in, well…
"All right," Harry said unenthusiastically, reaching for one of the glasses.
Hermione smiled, pleased, as she watched from across the table.
"Are you supposed to just… throw it back in one, like a shot?" Harry asked, staring down into the swirling liquid and wincing when just the smell of it made his nostrils burn.
"It might be better if you do," Hermione advised.
Harry glanced at Ron, who seemed to be drinking his effortlessly. He rallied his courage and pinched his nose before tossing back the entire contents of the glass. The Firewhiskey burned all the way down his throat and he only just managed not to cough or splutter in response.
Harry's eyes were watering as he set the glass back down on the table and then quickly followed it up by stuffing a few chips into his mouth and chewing.
"How was it?" Hermione asked, giggling a little at his expression.
Harry looked up to scowl at her and was startled when the room took a moment to right itself.
"I think that's a rather strong version of Ogden's," Hermione mused as she observed Harry's unfocused blinking. "Better follow it up with another one straight away."
"What?" Harry exclaimed, gobsmacked. "Are you serious?"
Hermione glanced over her shoulder then back to meet Harry's incredulous gaze. "Here comes Draco," she whispered urgently. "If you want to impress him, take another one Harry. He's made a lot of concessions for you, hasn't he?"
Harry was reaching for another glass before he even knew what he was doing; trying to process Hermione's reasoning was making him feel as though his brain was moving in slow motion, through thick treacle. He would just have to trust that she was the intelligent one and knew what she was talking about.
He refrained from pinching his nose this time and quickly swallowed the vile drink down as fast as possible, hoping his throat was still scorched enough from the first one to numb the pain a little.
He banged the glass back down with a cough as Draco came up beside their table.
"Potter, are you drinking Firewhiskey?" he asked in amazement, taking in the vast collection of full glasses with a slightly furrowed brow.
"Yeah," Harry replied thickly, hand clenching around his empty glass in an attempt to anchor himself as he looked up at his mate with a proud smile.
"Would you care for a few Draco?' Hermione offered pleasantly, nudging the tray towards him.
"Draco! Come settle a bet between Theo and I."
Harry frowned as Blaise came up beside Draco and slung an arm around his shoulders. Something about the sight made him feel unsettled, but he couldn't figure out why. He shook his head and tried to concentrate. Conversation seemed to ebb and flow around him as he floundered; attempting to latch onto bits of the discussion, which were drifting around him like fragmented particles, just out of his reach.
"If I must." Draco sighed as though greatly inconvenienced. "Thank you Granger," he added as he selected a glass of Firewhiskey from the tray. He passed another one to Blaise before turning back to Harry. "You all right on your own for a minute?" he asked as he inhaled the fragrant scent of his drink before taking a small, discerning sip.
Harry frowned, cursing the fact that he'd drunk two glasses of Firewhiskey in rapid succession. Clearly you were supposed to savour it and drink it slowly.
"Are you talking to me?"
"Wha?" Harry blinked at his mate.
Draco's eyes narrowed slightly. "You just said 'slowly' without any context."
Ron snickered and Harry turned to grin at him, as though sharing a private joke.
"He'll be fine," Hermione interjected when it appeared as though Harry wasn't about to answer. "We'll watch him."
"You know, this stuffs s'not so bad," Harry slurred, turning back around and reaching for yet another glass after Ron had carefully selected his second.
"I thought you didn't drink Potter?" Draco said, bemused, and then watched in horror as Harry carelessly tossed back a full glass. "Fuck, you're not supposed to gulp it like that Harry."
Harry coughed and then promptly hiccoughed before turning to his mate with a doleful expression. "Shit, that's right. Sorry Draco, I knew I would mess it all up."
"I think that's enough," Draco said quietly, stepping forward and pushing Harry's chips back in front of him. "Here, you'd better eat something."
"Thanks," Harry replied unhappily, eyes still watering from his last drink. "But you're still not my boss," he muttered sullenly as he reached for a few soggy chips and stuffed them into his mouth.
"Come on Malfoy," Blaise cajoled when Draco frowned in bewilderment.
Draco looked at his mate with concern but Hermione waved him off. "We promise not to let him drink anymore."
Draco nodded uncertainly before allowing Blaise to steer him away.
"So Harry," Hermione said brightly once they had left. "How are things going between you two?"
"Gooood," Harry replied slowly, tone rising at the end as though he were unsure.
Hermione smiled and nodded encouragingly. "You mentioned that you were working through some family stuff with Draco's parents, so I'm glad you've sorted all that out. It mustn't be easy having a father-in-law who has tried to murder you on more than one occasion."
Ron snorted with laughter, causing tiny ripples to dance across the surface of his Firewhiskey.
Harry smiled uncertainly at his friend; part of him thinking that he shouldn't be amused by that comment but unsure as to why.
"I don't mean anything by that," Hermione quickly added, noticing Harry's expression. "I mean, it's true, right?"
"Erm…"Harry frowned blearily, trying to keep up.
"But now you've worked everything out, right?' Hermione continued, unperturbed. "You and Lucius get along now? You're friends?"
"Friends?" Harry repeated, staring hard into his cooling tray of chips and attempting to focus.
Hermione reached over and plucked a chip from his tray. "I mean, now that you're going to be his son-in-law, he must have to tell you all the Malfoy family secrets, right?"
"Secrets?" Harry replied as though stuck on repeating everything Hermione was rapid-firing at him.
"Yeah, Blaise Zabini told us that Malfoy's family has loads of secrets."
"Like what?" Harry replied slowly, dragging his bleary gaze back up to her face.
Hermione smiled and leaned forward. "I don't know Harry, you tell us."
Harry swirled one of his chips in the pool of vinegar as he stared back at her with a frown. "Lucius Malfoy doesn't… doesn't tell me things, or… er, secrets. Draco does," he replied, as though that should be obvious.
Hermione nodded receptively. "What sort of secrets?"
Harry swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck, closing his eyes a moment as the room tilted dizzyingly with his movements. "Uh… secrets?" he echoed, woolly-headed.
"Yes, you know, like family secrets. Dark family secrets," she reiterated meaningfully.
Harry suddenly heard warning bells going off in the deep recesses of his mind. "You already know the Malfoy family secrets," he replied vaguely, tongue suddenly feeling too big for his mouth. "They were… uh, Death Eaters and they supported Voldemort."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, everyone knows that, but what has Draco told you that no one else knows? Something only you and Draco and his family are supposed to know - and your best friends," she added hastily.
"Oh," Harry said quietly then perked up after a moment of hazy thought. "Draco loves comfort food. The posh git's favourite food is shepherd's pie, if you can believe it."
Ron barked out a laugh. "What?"
Harry grinned at him, relieved that at least one of them found that as amusing as he did. "I know, right? I thought it was going to be something French that I wouldn't have a hope of pronouncing-"
"But Harry," Hermione interrupted, trying to recapture his attention. "What about the things you're not supposed to tell people?"
Harry tilted his head to one side, puzzled. "You mean like his favourite position?"
"Merlin no, why would you want to know that 'Mione?" Ron demanded, appalled.
Hermione closed her eyes with a sigh and rubbed her temple. "No, that's not what I… I meant importantsecrets."
"But Hermione, if it's a secret then I can't tell you," Harry said slowly, as though explaining what a secret was to a two year old.
Harry frowned and shared a look of bewilderment with Ron when Hermione made a loud noise of exasperation and dropped her face into her hands.
A shadow fell over their table then and Harry looked up to see Draco standing at the end of their booth, staring coldly at Hermione's bowed head.
Harry lowered his gaze guiltily. "I'm sorry Draco, I told them… I told them about the shepherd's pie thing."
Draco's lips pressed together into a thin line when Hermione raised her head and met his frigid gaze. He replied - without taking his eyes off of her. "That's okay Harry; I don't think that was the information she was after." He paused and leaned towards Hermione threateningly. "Firewhiskey is not Veritaserum Granger," he said sharply, severely. "If you want to know something, just ask him."
Hermione straightened in her seat, quickly recovering her wilted courage. "I've tried speaking to him; he either doesn't have the time or avoids the subject of what's wrong with him altogether," she said with quiet anger. "He used to confide in me. He hasn't been happy Malfoy, and he refuses to tell me why."
"What?" Harry blinked out of his stupor and lifted his chin defiantly. "I'm happy 'Mione. Draco makes me happy - don't you Draco?"
"Yes Harry." Draco's gaze warmed noticeably as he turned to Harry. "Come on, I think it's time we took our leave."
"See ya later Harry!" Ron called out with a cheerful smile, as though nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. "Good game tonight."
"Yeah… you too." Harry smiled uncertainly at his two friends as he carefully slid out of the booth, sure that there was an underlying tension between them but unable to remember why. He fervently hoped that it wasn't something he'd said…
He stumbled to his feet and Draco had to grab ahold of his arms to steady him when the room spun. Harry groaned and feverishly hoped his stomach contents would stop spinning too and not end up all over the pub's floor.
Draco looked murderous as he helped his mate on with his coat. Once buttoned up and safely tucked into Draco's side, Harry stared listlessly at the floor while Draco turned to glare at Hermione, who was now biting her lip and looking slightly uncomfortable.
"I hope it was worth it Granger," he said quietly, sneering. "He's going to be ill all night and into the morning. Pomfrey won't give out Sobriety Potions to students and I don't happen to have any on hand."
"McGonagall-"
"Would do her nut if she found out Potter was intoxicated," Draco replied sharply, causing Neville to snort in his sleep.
Harry swallowed, too light-headed and off-kilter to care that people were talking about him as though he wasn't there. "Can we go now Draco?" he asked miserably.
Draco's expression became immediately concerned. "Of course."
Harry kept his head down as Draco led him from the warm, noisy pub without another word and out into the cool evening air. A sudden breeze washed over Harry's heated skin and he closed his eyes with a sigh as some of the cobwebs cleared and his nausea subsided. The quiet of the village also helped to lessen the tightness behind his eyes.
"Better?" Draco asked as they continued to slowly walk down the high street together, his arm still secured around Harry's shoulders to help support him.
"Yeah." Harry took a deep breath and let it out. His balance was still a little skewed and his vision fuzzy around the edges, but the sombre mood of inside quickly vanished and a bubble of giddy, drunken happiness returned and fizzled inside him. He smiled and leaned into his mate. "Thanks Draco. You take good care of me."
Draco snorted and looked ahead. "Not good enough," he uttered darkly. "What did Granger ask you?"
Harry scrunched up his face as he tried to remember, but that entire conversation was a bit of a blur; like the remaining fragments of a dream quickly receding the harder you tried to think about it. "Erm, something about… your… favourite food. I think."
"My favourite food?" Draco repeated dubiously then turned thoughtful. "So she was asking about me?"
Harry nodded, turning his head to inhale Draco's scent from the thick woollen coat he was wearing. Draco always smelt really good, and the scent always helped calm him. Or awaken his arousal.
"What else did she want to know about me?"
"You smell good," Harry murmured distractedly before replying, "secrets. She asked about your secrets."
Draco stopped and turned to him, glancing around before speaking. "Did she know something or was she just suspicious?"
Harry stepped in close and slid his arms around Draco's waist, pressing into him. "Mmm… she wanted to know your favourite position - but I wouldn't tell her. That's oursecret."
Draco couldn't help but smile as Harry leaned in and kissed the side of his neck, diligently working his warm lips all the way up to Draco's ear. "From what I overheard, it didn't sound as though she'd gleaned anything of value," Draco said absently, leaning his head away in encouragement. "Perhaps I'll ask you tomorrow, when you're making a little more sense Potter."
Harry grinned and pointedly rolled his hips into him. "Yes," he breathed into his ear. "Less talking and more… doing."
Draco chuckled and stepped into a turn, Disapparating the two of them back to the front gates at Hogwart's. From there, they stumbled their way up the drive and into the castle, heading straight for their private rooms, pausing every-so-often to thoroughly enjoy a few heated snogs in dark corners along the way.
Harry was too aroused and off his trolley to care if anyone saw them. He also felt drunk on power, nearly giggling into Draco's mouth at the smugness he felt. His mate, normally so reserved and controlled in public, was so turned on by Harry's arousal and Omega scent that he'd lost all sense of propriety.
Draco had him shoved up against their bedroom wall as soon as the door shut and locked behind them.
Harry's head spun with a heady mix of delight and Firewhiskey as he kissed him, one leg coming up to hook behind his mate and pull him in tight in all the right places.
Draco moaned into Harry's mouth and thrust against him, causing Harry's eyes to roll back in his head and a gasp of pleasure to rip out of his throat as Draco continued to rut against him through their trousers. Harry felt hot and frantic, body strung tight with arousal as he met Draco thrust for thrust.
Draco moved his lips from Harry's panting mouth and began to kiss and lick his way down over his jaw and throat, breath warm against his skin.
Harry let his head fall back against the stone wall with a 'thunk', the lingering Firewhiskey dulling any pain. He loved the feel of Draco's erection, hard and long under his clothing, pressed against the length of his own arousal.
"Draco," he gasped, suddenly remembering something in his drink-addled state. "I forgot… your prize…"
Draco's lips smirked against his skin without pausing in their assault. "Another time Potter," he replied, sucking on his skin and inhaling Harry's scent through his nose. Draco moaned under his breath, the vibrations causing Harry to shiver. "Mine…" Draco breathed mindlessly.
Harry groaned as his eyes fell shut again. "Yes… yours…" he gasped, head spinning, not even knowing what he was saying, lost in a fog of heat and arousal and alcohol. "Mark me. Claim me… please."
Draco immediately stopped what he was doing and pulled back to look into Harry's face. "What did you say?"
Harry frowned at the loss of warm lips on his throat and the sudden discontinuance of insistent hips frotting against him. "Make me yours Malfoy. I want you to. Claim me. Please…"
Harry watched as Draco's eyes fluttered closed, as though Harry's words were too much for him to handle. Harry instantly loved that look on his mate's face and bumped his throbbing erection up against him insistently. "Bite me Draco. Merlin, I want you to so much… please… Make me yours. Make me yours so everybody knows," he mumbled deliriously.
Draco let out a low noise, almost like a whine, as he lowered his lips to Harry's neck.
"Yes…" Harry hissed, leaning his head away and to the right, exposing the long column of his throat to his mate. Harry felt the scrape of teeth over his flushed skin, moving purposefully to the soft juncture of where neck meets shoulder.
Harry gasped as the intense anticipation and too-many-sensations suddenly overwhelmed his shuddering body. He gave himself over to it and was lost…
. . . .
Harry woke with a start, eyes flying open to stare at the canopy over their bed. The room was warm and the smell of sex was still thick in the air.
He winced as the pounding in his head suddenly made its presence known and he reached up with one hand to sluggishly rub at his temple.
It all came flooding back to him then: winning the game, the Hog's Head, the creepy bloke at the bar, Blaise, Firewhiskey, Hermione's strange questioning, Draco taking him home, snogging, being so turned on that…
Harry gasped and sat up, moaning when the world spun around him. He ignored the nausea in favour of clapping a hand over his neck - and was surprised to feel nothing; not a cut or bite or even a bruise of any kind marred his skin.
"Harry? What are you doing? Come back to sleep."
Harry turned at the sleepily slurred words and his heart swelled with such sudden and intense love for his mate that he thought it should be exploding out through his toes and fingertips like beams of pure light, like magic. Draco still had his eyes closed, pale blond hair splayed out and tousled on the pillow beneath his head, quilt dropped to his waist, exposing his pale torso and leanly muscled arms.
Harry leaned down, half draping himself over his mate but keeping his weight off of him, staring down into Draco's face as his gaze tracked over lowered blond lashes, high cheek bones, pointed chin and parted lips.
"I love you, you know."
Pale grey eyes opened slowly and turned to look at him; a soft, questioning smile in his gaze. "What brought that on?"
"You didn't do it; you didn't claim me last night, even though I asked you to."
Draco blinked the sleep from his eyes and turned over onto his back, looking up at him. "Of course not Potter, you were half out of your mind on Firewhiskey." His pink lips quirked up into a half-smile. "I do have a limit to my self-interest you know."
Harry grinned and ignored the pounding of his head and the dryness of his mouth as he lay back down beside his mate and turned onto his side towards him. "Which obviously only impedes you to a certain extent because my arse is quite sore this morning."
Draco smirked, looking quite satisfied. "I deserve something for my troubles Potter; I did lose out on my prize last night after all."
"How about a new prize?" Harry offered, cocking his head to one side, a gleam in his eye.
"Better than a blow job in an alley?"
Harry laughed and shifted closer. "Now that I'm completely and utterly lucid - I still want you to claim me."
Draco's expression instantly lost its amusement and his brow furrowed with unease. He leaned up on one elbow and looked down at him. "It will hurt."
Harry snorted. "I'm not afraid of a little pain."
Draco frowned as he absently tucked a lock of dark hair behind Harry's ear. "When one of our kind performs a claiming bite, it's different to normal Alphas, it releases a kind of venom through our teeth which will forever remain in your body Harry."
"What does the venom do?" Harry asked, curiously undaunted.
Draco's expression relaxed a little. "The venom allows me to track you when I'm in my other form," he explained quietly. "It can also be scented by others of my kind so that they know, beyond just a physical a bite mark, that you've been claimed."
Harry nodded, absorbing the information, and trying to figure out why he suddenly felt a little ball of tension in his gut. "The… the tracking thing…"
Draco looked at him knowingly. "Bothers you, doesn't it?"
Harry sighed and shook his head, stubborn. "Yeah, I guess so, but… I still want you to do it." Harry thought about the bloke at the pub, and about what Blaise had said; that Harry's being unclaimed cast doubt on whether Harry really did only want Draco or that their mateship wasn't as strong as it should be.
"There's no rush Harry," Draco said softly, stroking his cheek and breaking him out of his thoughts. "I know you've always been hesitant about it, that the inquiry forced you to say you wanted it when you weren't even sure if you did or not. Why don't you take another week to really think about it?"
Harry bit his lip, considering. Putting it off was like backing down from a challenge - and he hated that feeling. He knew he wasn't going to change his mind about it though. He knew, deep down, that he wanted Draco's mark on him. He just didn't think he'd be able to convince his mate of that just yet. This tracking venom thing felt a little demoralising… but he just needed to get over his issues with being the 'Omega' in the relationship. A part of him still thrilled at the thought of his mate taking care of him, watching over him, protecting him, yet that part of him was still at war with his inherently independent nature.
"Okay," he finally relented, meeting Draco's gaze and finding comfort there. "I want it done before the party though."
"All right," Draco agreed, studying him at length. "If you still want me to do it next Saturday morning, then I will."
Harry nodded, placated, and Draco flopped back down beside him with a sigh.
"Can we please go back to sleep now Potter?" he said, disrupting the serious atmosphere.
Harry smiled, relieved, and tucked into his side, Draco's arm automatically coming up to wrap around him as he closed his eyes. It hadn't escaped his notice that Draco hadn't said 'I love you' back, but he wasn't worried; the past twenty-four hours clearly demonstrated just how much Draco cared for him. Harry knew he would say it when he felt it, when he was ready.
He tried not to grimace as he thought about the aforementioned party at Malfoy Manor; being claimed was going to be the least of his worries that day.
One thing he knew for sure; he didn't care what the Purebloods thought of him, he was not going to drink anymore Firewhiskey.