Draco took every opportunity to visit Harry.
Most times, he saw the man (as well as Teddy and Hermione) more than twice a week. It wasn't every day, only every other day, but he didn't think it would be out of the question for their time together to be daily within in the next week or so. If it wasn't for the sodding 'chaste touch' rule, he'd have already succumbed to Harry's silent plea to sleep over a night or two.
It wasn't often, and it had only happened twice now, but he'd been there late enough he could see the wizard about to suggest he kip on the couch or the spare room... He wouldn't have, of course, but he felt damn near weightless when he apparated home those nights; floating on a cloud of happiness and contentment. For the first time, he felt separated from his inner being and it was with extreme bemusement to realize his Veela, was apparently a Hufflepuff. It was a bit gross, really. Either way, he gave himself complete permission to revel in the feeling.
Each time he visited, in keeping with his courtship, he brought Harry a gift. He didn't care how many he had given so far (and would continue to give); he just adored Harry's expression. There was still that look of silent wonder and pleasure. And Harry accepted his gifts with a growing ease that was almost (finally) edging towards eagerness. The gifts, generally, we small trinkets or boxes of candy (Muggle and Wizard varieties) he knew Harry liked. Occasionally he'd get something knowing Harry would share it with Teddy and Hermione... and he did it happily. He liked them well enough, but it was mainly due to the heated looks Harry would give him, generally when he thought he wasn't being observed.
He shouldn't be surprised a wizard like Harry would get turned on by his thoughtfulness, but it had still been a pleasant surprise. Even if it hadn't garnered that reaction from Harry, he still would have been pleased to see Hermione and Teddy smile from something he picked out and gave to his mate.
Tonight, though, he was hoping he could give Harry something more ornate and have it be accepted just as easily as chocolate frogs and Muggle jelly beans. He'd planned an evening out; dinner and dancing. It had taken some persuasion, Harry claiming he couldn't dance, but he had finally gotten his way when he stepped close enough for their noses to nearly touch and he'd murmured 'please'. Magic word indeed... Harry had immediately caved, looking torn between embarrassment, aroused and chagrined all at the same time. (Draco had to swiftly leave the kitchen, lest he do something untoward.)
He knocked on the front door and couldn't quell the urge to fidget with his robes as he waited. It felt odd to be at the front door, not unlike the first time he had seen Harry again in almost four years. He knew it was some sort of dating etiquette to knock instead of coming through the floo... he didn't even care that it was probably Muggle in origin. It did add a certain pleasant edge to the wait.
Draco looked up and smiled when he heard the door opening. "Hello."
"Draco," Harry said, sounding breathless. He was going to pretend it was from his quick jog to get the door and not mere the sight of Draco, wearing elegant dress robes and looking positively gorgeous. He stared, enjoying the way the blonde's robes were tailored to perfectly hug his broad shoulders and draping almost lovingly across and down his chest. He jumped when Draco cleared his throat and gave him a charming, roguish smile. "Oh! Sorry!" He moved aside, hoping it was dim enough Draco didn't see his flushed face. "Come in."
Draco nodded and brushed past Harry, letting his fingers flutter lightly over the other man as he passed. He nodded to Hermione as he walked into the kitchen. He bent down and accepted the boisterous hug from Teddy, well used to the little boy's way of greeting by now. He looked forward to seeing Teddy almost as much as he did Harry. He adored the little boy, enjoying spending time with him and teaching him anything that came to mind. Teddy was already quite adept at chess, beating Harry on their first game.
"Good evening, Teddy," he said, making the little boy giggle.
"Hi, Mr. Draco."
Draco nodded, no longer bothering to ask Teddy to drop the 'Mr.' from his address. Teddy insisted, citing it as being more respectful. "Are you ready to escort me and your Harry-daddy to dinner?" he asked importantly. Hermione was coming along too but he couldn't say no when Teddy had asked to chaperone one of their outings, his little chest puffed out proudly with the responsibility. He probably couldn't have said no even if he had planned something wildly romantic; Teddy was hard to say no to.
"Yeah!" Teddy said and then ran from the room to finish getting dressed. He wanted to wear fancy robes and shiny shoes, too. Just like Mr. Draco.
Harry chuckled and leaned against the door frame, smiling warmly at Draco. It wasn't their first official date out, but it was the fanciest so far and he couldn't be more excited. Teddy was acting as their unofficial chaperone, along with Hermione. He smiled when Draco extended his hand, giving him a box. He no longer bothered to argue and simply took it with a smile, letting his fingers brush against Draco's palm as he took it. It was probably bending the rules a bit, since there were no chaste intentions behind the touch, but he was having an increasingly harder time keeping his hands to himself.
Especially as he spent more time with the Veela. He was only human and the overtly adoring (and subtly heated) looks affected him. He was learning a lot about the blonde the past few weeks and he liked what he learned. Plus, he liked watching Draco and Teddy interact. It wasn't a false warmth when Draco spoke with and spent time with Teddy and he was surprised to find it arousing as hell. He wasn't sure how he was going to make it through the next 10 days or so. And even then, he hadn't any real clue what sort of 'touching' would be allowed.
He slowly opened the box and gasped, nearly dropping it. "Draco," he whispered, shaking his head slightly. He sighed softly, fully aware he couldn't refuse the expensive gift without offending the blonde. It was probably more due to him being a Malfoy than a Veela, but it still made things difficult when he was overwhelmed by a 'trinket' and wanted to give it back.
"Don't you like it, Harry?" Draco asked softly, stepping closer, peering into the box.
It was a Muggle pen set. A very costly Muggle pen set. He wanted to get Harry something nice but useful; something he could spend a rather ridiculous amount of money on but couldn't be refused due to its practicality. He had managed to find the most expensive set but didn't get that one. He felt it was a bit... over the top to spend nearly half a million pounds on a pen set (even if he did think Harry worth it).
He settled for a fine set, in a beautiful emerald and platinum scheme; the emeralds lining the upper part of the pen's barrel in an artfully scattered pattern. It was merely a happy coincidence the coloring suited Harry as well as reflected that of his old House—Slytherin. He was pretty sure both were genuine materials; at least, they should be for the cost of the set. Harry was worth it, of course. He looked up into wide green eyes and smiled. "It's only a pen set."
Harry snorted softly and gently stroked along one of the green barrels. Merlin, it was practically glowing from the inside with a gorgeous green fire. It was almost too nice to even consider using. "Only a pen set," he muttered. He knew exactly what he was looking at. He wouldn't refuse, though. It would be rude and... Well, he did want them. He never had something so nice before. "Thank you," he said softly, lifting his gaze to give Draco a smile.
"You're welcome, Harry," Draco said warmly. He was very pleased to see Harry accepting the gift with little reluctance. "I do hope they come in handy."
Harry laughed and closed the box with a soft snap. "They will. I'll feel very silly doing my class work with a Mont Blanc, but I know it'll look smashing when I'm done." He looked up when Teddy bounced into the room, wearing a very nice outfit that was just this shy of actually fitting him properly. He snickered as Teddy pulled down the slightly too-short sleeves and fiddled with his little tie. "I don't think you'll need the tie, Teddy." He didn't comment about the tight fit of the clothes, knowing Teddy wouldn't care.
"But—" Teddy pouted and looked between Harry-daddy and Mr. Draco. Neither of them were wearing ties anymore, but they did still look quite posh. They both had been wearing fancy dressy robes and everything! "I don' have anythin' else nice to wear," he finally said. He squirmed a bit, his trousers were a bit tight. He hadn't worn them since Christmas.
Harry chuckled and walked over to Teddy, removing the little boy's tie gently. He almost regretted not getting Teddy's new holiday outfit, so the little boy could wear that. "You look very dapper, without the tie." He rolled it up and left it laying on the side table. "Did you want to match?" he finally asked, realizing Teddy's problem. He had removed his robe and was now wearing a pair of dark washed jeans, a button up and a sweater vest. He had felt like a nerd in it, annoyed at Hermione for shoving the clothes at him insistently, until he saw Draco wearing something similar once he had taken off his robes. Teddy nodded enthusiastically and he plucked the tie up, transfiguring it into a matching sweater vest—in a lovely sapphire color since it was Teddy's favorite. He fiddled with it until it was the right royal blue Teddy liked and held it up. He chuckled when he got an approving nod. "There."
"Cool!" Teddy cheered and hurriedly wriggled into the sweater. "Thanks!" He smoothed it down, beaming proudly between Harry-daddy and Mr. Draco. He didmatch (even if they all had different colors on, they all matched shapes) and he felt much better. He didn't know how to keep his hair though and he frowned a little. He liked matching Harry-daddy but Mr. Draco always looked proud when he matched him, too. He sidled over to Aunt Hermione, tugging lightly on her skirt until she leaned down. "I don't know who to match," he whispered, nervously wringing his hands when she turned her head to look at him.
Hermione went to comment that he matched them both before she realized what Teddy meant, widening her eyes a bit when she noticed his hair flickering between messy black and smooth, fine pale blonde. She smiled warmly at the little boy and hugged him impulsively. "Whichever you like, Teddy. Both look brilliant."
"Oh." Teddy frowned a little again and closed his eyes, finally letting his hair settle on a dirty blonde that was nearly his natural color. He liked matching but this way no one would be sad if he picked the wrong one. He bounced over to Harry-daddy and grabbed his hand. "Ready," he announced.
Harry nodded, bending over to give Teddy's temple a kiss before nodding to Draco. He didn't know where they were going and needed the blonde to lead them. He didn't protest at all when Draco picked up Teddy and sidled closer, an arm sliding around his waist.
"Side-along," Draco explained softly. He could have floo'd them, but he eagerly took the excuse to touch the wizard. He grinned when Harry just looked up at him with a slight smirk on his face. "Hermione," he called over to the witch. He held in a snicker when she rushed over and grabbed onto his elbow, poking Harry none-too-gently to shift them apart a little. "Hold on." He closed his eyes and concentrated. He hadn't side-alonged so many before and he did not want to risk splinching any of them. They landed a bit roughly, but his grip tightened on all of them, his arm coming from around Harry to grab Hermione steady as well.
Hermione was the first to let go of the odd little group hug and looked around. She whistled lowly and elbowed Draco playfully, grinning up at the Veela. "Nice," she praised. She wasn't familiar with the place but it looked Muggle. Muggle, and posh, but family oriented. She turned around just in time to see Harry trying to sneak a kiss and lightly whacked the back of his head. She wagged a finger at him, stoically ignoring his sheepish puppy-eyes. "I don't think so, mister." She was taking her role as chaperone seriously. She didn't want any small detail to go wrong and compromise their chances of Bonding later.
"Sorry," Harry muttered, rubbing his head and giving Draco an apologetic look. Mostly for being caught and thwarted. He tried not to pout when Draco unwound his arm and nodded at him before turning to Hermione. He was starting to dislike the whole courting thing, even if he did ask for it. He sighed softly and followed Draco into the restaurant, nodding along as Teddy chatted at him excitedly. Yes, the place was big. Yes, the place was fancy. Yes, they would have the best chicken fingers ever. He smiled as Draco held the door for them.
He did notice the dance floor and he only hoped dancing was allowed in The Rules.
.|.
Harry looked up, startled, when his floo chimed. His eyebrows rose in surprise and confusion before quickly pinching in concern when Draco stumbled through a moment later, landing on his hands and knees. He put down the book he was reading and quickly sat up. "Draco?"
"Harry," Draco panted softly, still on all fours. He felt dizzy and disoriented but relieved he had been able to reach Harry. He felt his arms shake with the effort of holding himself up and gracelessly rolled onto his back with a grunt and a long exhale. He tried to blink his eyes back into focus but it only made room appear to spin and he had to close his eyes shut tightly before he got nauseous.
Harry rushed over, kneeling next to the prone Veela, his hands skimming a few inches over this body unsure if he should touch or not. He'd never seen Draco fall through the floo—ever, even the time he'd indulged in a bit too much wine and 'drunk floo'd'—and he was paler than usual. Draco's eyes were closed, showing the dark purple tinge to the delicate skin, and he was breathing unsteadily.
"Draco? Are you OK?" He knew it was stupid to ask the moment the words left his mouth, but he didn't know what else to say.
"Not really," Draco murmured, willing his heart rate to slow the hell down and his eyes to open. He could hear the panic in Harry's voice and he didn't want his wizard to be panicking. He was hit with a wave of annoyance when he realized he had left Harry's gift on his chair in the Manor in his disoriented state and haste to get here. He groaned, both in discomfort and aggravation. "Bugger," he muttered.
Harry leaned down and shook Draco's shoulder before cupping his face, not thinking about the no touching rule. "What's wrong?" he asked, trying not to panic when Draco's eyes fluttered closed again and his breathing stuttered as he made a noise in the back of his throat. He nearly let go, thinking he was causing the Veela discomfort or pain but one of Draco's hands came up and covered his, keeping him in place.
"I forgot your gift," Draco murmured, trying not to nuzzle into Harry's hands and losing. He sighed happily, even though it was a bit shaky, and felt his heart-rate finally start to slow a bit. He felt Harry's fingers jerk, as if he was going to pull away again, and he quickly—but gently—laid his other hand over Harry's as well. "Please don't," he whispered, his eyes sliding closed again. He hadn't thought going without Harry's touch for so long would affect him so. Well, he had hoped anyway. "I need another few moments."
Harry nodded, even though Draco couldn't see him. He left his hands where they were and adjusted his position on his knees so he was more comfortable. He stared down at the prone Veela and felt his chest constrict when he realized Draco looked like hell. It had only been a little over a day since he last saw the blonde. He was pale and he had dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn't been sleeping. His hair was a bit limp but still beautiful. He flushed, grateful Draco's eyes were closed, at the last thought. He gently moved his hands, shushing Draco when he went to protest, so one was in pale hair and the other cupped the side of Draco's neck. He smiled when Draco made a happy little sound of contentment and relaxed fully into his touch.
"Thank you, Harry. I'm sorry if I worried you," Draco said quietly, his eyes still closed. He was enjoying the moment too much to move, but he felt much better. He felt Harry shift around but the hands didn't move. He wasn't exactly comfortable laying on the floor but he wouldn't move for anything, not as long Harry's hand stayed plastered to his body. Merlin, it felt amazing and it was steadily soothing every ache and pain that had accumulated over the past few weeks.
"What happened?" Harry asked, looking at Draco intently. The blonde was starting to get a bit of color back in his cheeks and his breathing was easing back to a normal rhythm. "Are you— Is this a Veela thing?" he asked, feeling a bit stupid for over-simplifying. It seemed a bit more serious to be called simply 'a Veela thing' but he didn't know how else to phrase it.
Draco sighed softly and opened his eyes, sliding his hand up Harry's arm before sliding back down and coming to a rest on the back of Harry's hand. "Yes," he said simply. "I, apparently, was a bit mistaken for how long I could go without touching you."
"Oh," Harry said softly. He shivered lightly when Draco's thumb brushed along the back of his hand, making his skin tighten pleasantly. "But, we have touched," he said quietly, resisting the urge to look around guiltily for witnesses. Teddy was up napping and Hermione wasn't due over for another hour.
Draco chuckled softly, and brought Harry's hand up to his lips and kissed his palm, his lips lingering for a moment. Thankfully, he was recovered enough to resist the temptation to run his tongue along Harry's Heart Line, but it was rather difficult. "Not for any length of time and not usually skin to skin, Harry," he said quietly. "It's quite different and direct contact makes all the difference." He sighed and gently removed Harry's hands from him so he could sit up. "I didn't mean to frighten you."
"You didn't," Harry denied immediately. "OK, maybe a little..." he admitted when Draco raised an eyebrow at him. He realized he had trailed off and he felt suddenly nervous and started to worrying the inside of his cheek with his teeth. "So, what do we do?" he asked, looking at Draco curiously. He had no problems if Draco needed a touch now and then. He certainly didn't want to have Draco falling through his floo every so often, weak and in need of a hands-on session. He didn't mind the hands-on part, but he didn't think he could handle seeing Draco that pale and weak again.
Draco hummed and carefully reached for Harry's hand, holding it between both of his and rubbing gently. Warmth and contentment flowed through him in a gentle wave and he closed his eyes to enjoy the blissful sensation. Harry didn't look at all bothered with the touching and he felt quite hopeful. He hadn't known how Harry would handle the information. "We will need to have minor, non-sexual, contact," he finally said.
"A-alright," Harry said, fighting the urge to squirm and flush at the words 'non-sexual'; even if they sounded innocent, they brought very vivid images to mind nonetheless. Images that were certainly not 'non-sexual'. "How often?" he asked, looking up at Draco, curious. It had been almost three weeks since Draco had sat in his kitchen that first time. He wanted to ask if it would affect the courting thing, but he didn't really care at this point—not if it meant Draco's health. And he was figuring as long as the touches were 'chaste', Draco would have mentioned it if it was going to be an issue.
Draco hummed again. "I'm quite tempted to say daily," he said with a teasing grin. "But I think every other day should be sufficient. The few times I was able to sneak a hand hold or touch you wasn't enough. Is it alright if it's more... like this?" he asked, his eyes flicking down to where their hands were still clasped together tightly, Harry's hand sandwiched between his. He realized his thumb was stroking along Harry's knuckles but didn't bother to stop when he noticed Harry didn't mind.
"Yeah, that's fine," Harry said quickly. "Whatever you need is fine," he added, meeting Draco's eyes. "So... Is this part of why a Veela needs a mate?"
Draco pursed his lips a little and studied Harry for a long moment, deciding how to answer. He didn't think Harry was asking for any reason other than his natural curiosity (he nearly smiled when thinking of how often that got the other wizard into trouble). He already knew Harry wasn't going to deny their match. And he also knew the other man was too noble (and just generally good-hearted) to use the information for unpleasant reasons.
"Yes and no," Draco finally said, shrugging one shoulder gracefully. "A Veela needs a mate to complete them. It's hard to explain fully, but it's almost like we're a whole person, but only once we've found our mate. We're compatible in every aspect; mind, body, soul and magic." He watched Harry's face, warmth flooding his entire body when Harry nodded his understanding, a flush slowly staining his cheeks. Harry understood and not just because he was being told; he felt it, too.
"For the most part, a Veela can survive if we haven't found our mate. We can even be relatively content, if not happy, but never at our full potential. Once we find our mate, that's what we need. It's vital to our well-being and survival to be with them, Bond with them so we can share ourselves. Completely. If we're denied that, it's like suffering from a disease that eats away at our bodies and magic." He squeezed the hand in his when Harry's face pinched. He didn't want to make Harry feel bad, he was only explaining the importance a mate had for a Veela and why he was so very grateful to be given a chance with his.
"As for the touching," he said, his eyes flicking down to their still-joined hands for a moment. He wanted to stare, study and memorize the way their hands slotted together. His pale and long, Harry's tanned and strong. "It's a way for our magics to recognize each other and... fuse, in a way." He went silent, realizing Harry was looking somewhere over his left shoulder, looking lost in thought.
He wasn't going to interrupt Harry's speculation... but he was growing increasingly curious as to what Harry was thinking about and how he was taking everything he'd been told. He wasn't sure how long they had been sitting together on the floor, quietly holding hands, when Hermione stepped out of the floo. He gave the witch a welcoming smile, squeezing Harry's hand to get his attention. He cocked his head towards the floo when Harry's eyes flicked up to him, the other wizard blinking a few times as he registered Hermione's presence.
It was rather adorable to see Harry blush and he was immensely grateful (and thoroughly smitten) when the other man made no move to separate their hands.
Hermione studied the men on the floor, her eyebrows quirking upwards. "Should I be allowing this?" she finally asked, her eyes firmly on where the two men's hands were linked. It was, admittedly, cute to see them hold hands but she was concerned about her role in this sort of thing. She'd read the 'rules', of course, but they were frustratingly vague on what sort of contact was allowed (besides banning anything deemed sexual, that is). Plus, she knew Draco, as a Veela, was bound to need some contact with Harry to stabilize his magic as their bond grew. It was all very fascinating, if not a little confusing and conflicting.
"Yes," Draco said simply.
Harry cleared his throat, suddenly feeling like they'd been caught out. Even though they were only holding hands. "It's part of his Veela thing," he blurted, feeling his cheeks warm when Draco and Hermione both stared at him, both of them smirking at him at nearly the same time—in the same infuriating way that made him feel 12. "He needs me to touch him," he added. He groaned softly and dropped his head a little, avoiding both of their amused gazes when he realized how that sounded. "Shut up," he muttered when Draco started snickering. He nearly threatened to withhold his touch, but he smothered that urge. He liked it as much as the Veela appeared to and he wasn't about to punish himself for the blonde being a git.
"I see," Hermione said, hurrying across the room to sit in a chair by the pair on the floor. "And what happens if you don't touch each other?" She paused, tapping her chin. "How often do you need to touch each other?"
Harry groaned again, "Stop saying it like that!"
"Well, it's true. How else am I supposed to say it?" Hermione asked with a huff. She'd be amused by Harry's embarrassment (like any good friend would) but she was being denied information and that trumped anything else. So, she ignored Harry (pointedly turning away from him sticking his tongue out childishly), and looked at Draco. "Well?"
Draco cleared his throat, and decided to tell the witch whatever she wanted to know. Hermione could be trusted not to abuse the knowledge and he knew she'd pester and hound him until she got answers. Normally, he could respect that in a person but it bemused him when he was the focus of such tenacity. He shifted a bit in his position on the floor. It wasn't very comfortable but he wasn't about to get up just yet, even if Hermione was not a witness.
"I feel physical effects, not quite unlike withdrawal symptoms." He nodded when Hermione gasped softly, her hand covering her mouth as her eyes went wide. "Yes. Quite unpleasant, that. And I'm not sure how often—we'll have to sort of experiment and see how it goes."
"Does it affect your courtship rules?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes slightly. She felt justified in being a little overly dramatic about it; both men knew she was always one to take responsibility seriously. And this was very serious.
"No, as long as the touches are chaste."
Hermione nodded, appeased and pleased. "Alright then. Keep it above the belt and I won't have to hex you boys apart," she said with a grin. She laughed with delight when Harry groaned again. "Right," she said, clapping her hands. "You, go get presentable," she said to Draco. "And you—" She looked at Harry, "When's dinner?"
"Blimey, 'Mione," Harry said, reluctantly letting go of Draco's hand so he could stand. He pouted a bit when Draco headed towards the floo. "Fine," he said with a sigh, getting up and stalking into the kitchen.
Draco watched Harry slam into the kitchen and raised an eyebrow, turning to Hermione expectantly. "Dare I ask?"
"Oh, he's just having a strop," Hermione said dismissively, waving a hand at Draco, used to Harry's moods. True, it had been awhile since he had such a childish pout session, but she figured he was due one. She looked at Draco from the corner of her eye and was pleased to see him looking thoughtful; good, he should know even the annoying sides of Harry. "Probably because he thinks you're leaving. Or because I ruined his fun," she added as an afterthought. Both were quite likely.
Draco hummed thoughtfully, his gaze sliding to the kitchen door. He was walking through it before he even realized he had moved. He winced when he heard the sharp sound of pots and pans being slammed around, the metal clanking loudly as they met the cooker or the counter. "Harry?" he called out, smothering a smirk when Harry jumped and whirled around. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah," Harry said softly. He thought Draco had left. He felt rather annoyed the blonde had come only to feel him up and then leave. It didn't matter he was OK with it or that it was really just an extended hand holding session... he felt a little used. Which was completely ridiculous and only added to his irritation and fueled the urge to pout and kick things. "I thought you'd gone."
Draco tsked softly and stepped closer, smiling when Harry immediately closed the distance between them. He idly wondered if the wizard was even aware of doing it, but it thrilled him nonetheless that his mate felt drawn to him in return. His hand raised, hovered over Harry's chest, and then lowered again. No touching there; that wouldn't be chaste. He settled for letting his hand rest on Harry's forearm for a moment. He cleared his throat and shook his head a little, "No. I was merely going to retrieve your gift."
"Oh. Right," Harry murmured, feeling a bit silly. He did recall Draco babbling about a gift when he fell through his floo. "OK, well, go on then. I won't hold you up," he said, pressing against the Veela's chest lightly. He stepped closer, completely unaware of doing so, and let his hands gently stroke along the blonde's chest. It was firm and nicely muscled. He glanced down, his tongue quickly flicking from his top lip to his bottom lip as he stared. He jumped when the kitchen door banged open.
Hermione crossed her arms and tapped her toe. Merlin, these two were getting to be worse than a pair of seventh years discovering hidden alcoves and privacy wards! She idly wondered if she should stick a monitoring charm on the pair. "What's for dinner, Harry?"
"Uh," Harry cleared his throat and forced himself to take a step back, realizing what he had been doing was definitely not in the realm of 'chaste touching'. Well, it wouldn't have been in another moment when his palms had been itching to slide over Draco's nipples... "Chicken."
Hermione snickered. She wasn't sure which was funnier, Harry's blush or Draco's glazed over expression. She felt a bit bad she had to interrupt, they were grown men after all, but she held firm in her resolve to make sure nothing went wrong with their courtship and possibly their Bonding. "Wonderful," she said. She stepped forward and nudged Draco, poking the Veela in the shoulder. "You were going somewhere?" she prompted.
"Right!" Draco said with a start. "I'll be right back," he said, mostly to Harry. He hesitated for a moment before bending slightly to place a chaste kiss on Harry's cheek before rushing out of the kitchen and towards the floo. He groaned softly as he tossed the powder in; even just a kiss on the cheek send his senses reeling. His lips were still tingling pleasantly, warmed by the friction of light stubble and just the sensation of being on Harry's skin, when he called out 'Malfoy Manor' and disappeared in a whoosh of green.
Hermione glanced back at Harry, smiling when he blinked out of his daze and went back to the stove. He wasn't slamming pots and pans around, so that was a plus. "I just want you to know, I don't enjoy interrupting you, Harry." She moved to lean against the counter next to the stove, giving her friend an earnest look. "Really I don't. I can only imagine how frustrating it is."
Harry kept quiet, unsure how willing he was to admit that yes, it was frustrating. Two weeks ago he would have had a hard time admitting he even wanted to kiss the blonde and now... he was being driven crazy because he couldn't. He peeked at Hermione from the corner of his eye and sighed. Hermione was bright—there was no way she'd miss noticing that he was attracted to the Veela. But knowing Hermione, she knew and was pleased about it. She had been supportive from the start. "I know," he said simply.
"So, things are going well?" she prodded. She really hoped her instincts weren't wrong and Draco was good for her best friend. And that Harry was actually starting to fall for the Veela—not just lust after his fit body. It was one thing for Draco to already be half in love with Harry from the start, she wanted Harry to be able to return those feelings for Draco's sake (as well as his own). Which was odd to feel, but it was true; she liked the blonde well enough now she didn't want him hurt or stuck in a relationship that wasn't fulfilling.
Harry nodded, ducking his head a bit. "Yeah, things are going very well. Draco's... well, he's amazing, 'Mione. I never thought I'd say that, but there it is," he said, shrugging one shoulder and turning to gauge Hermione's reaction. She was beaming at him and he found himself relaxing. "He's funny, did you know? And charming. He's also very warm, when the situation is right. And he's great with Teddy," he said, practically all in one breath. He realized he was babbling and rolled his lips together.
"That's wonderful, Harry," Hermione said with a smile, gently squeezing Harry's arm in support and affection. "Really. I can't tell you how happy it makes me."
"He's still a bit of a prat though," Harry said, sounding amused instead of put out. It was oddly endearing to see Draco hadn't changed that much since he'd last seen him. And it helped he was a prat when appropriate, not just because he felt superior or got off on being a knob. He studied Hermione for a moment. "You're really OK with Draco? I mean, we haven't had the best history—"
"I really am," Hermione interrupted before Harry could get himself worked up. "First of all, he apologized. Secondly, he's your mate—there's not much I could really do about it, anyway. And thirdly? He's not the same scared kid we grew up with. Just as we aren't the same people." She watched Harry nod along with each point but his eyebrows were still pinched, as if he wasn't quit sure yet. He was probably thinking of Ronald; her stubborn husband wasn't going around cursing Malfoy's existence any more but he was still adjusting to the knowledge Draco was sticking around—indefinitely. He'd been keeping his distance from them all. (She knew Harry preferred it that way. Even if it was obvious he missed his friend, it was a sight better than Draco and Ron snarking and sniping at each other whenever they were in the same room.)
The stubborn git. Honestly, the next time he said 'bloody Veela' she was seriously considering putting him on the couch for a week. Not only did it upset Draco with the constant friction, it was straining his friendship with Harry. She tried telling Ronald that if he kept on, he'd probably lose Harry's friendship because the chance he'd pick Ron over Draco was dwindling every day.
Harry sighed softly and turned from the stove, "It just feels so sudden."
"Harry," Hermione said with a snort. "You've known him since you were eleven-years-old. He's been the first—and pretty much only—person to ever get under your skin. I think it all makes perfect sense," she said, crossing her arms and daring Harry to disagree with her. She raised an eyebrow when he went to open his mouth. "Honestly, Harry," she said and rolled her eyes, even though she was smiling. "There's no need to hide what you're feeling."
Harry cleared his throat and focused back on stirring random things. "I'm not." He peeked at Hermione from the corner of his eye, but not enough to see the kitchen door twitch open. "I'm not," he repeated, his eyes returning to watching the spoon move. He still wasn't good at talking about his feelings, so if he was going to make embarrassing declarations, he couldn't look at Hermione while he did so. And it felt a bit... wrong to be telling Hermione that sort of thing before he told Draco. "I do like him. A lot. And it's... it's just so..." he trailed off, shrugging helplessly.
"Unexpected?" Draco offered from the doorway.
Harry jumped, flushing darkly when he saw Draco standing by the kitchen door. His arms were crossed, a box tucked in his left hand still, but he was smiling warmly. The bright silvery gaze was warm, as well, and it made his entire body tingle and flush. "Yes," he whispered. "Is that... Does that upset you?" he asked, even though Draco didn't look upset.
It couldn't feel great to know your feelings weren't returned, at least not as fiercely.
"No," Draco said and shook his head a little, amazed at Harry.
He had sprung the 'I'm-Your-Veela-Mate thing on the man mere weeks ago and Harry was concerned he would be upset they hadn't fallen madly in love yet? He was a realist and he was extremely surprised (and grateful) that Harry had warmed up as much as he already had. Considering their past, he never expected the other wizard to be able to stand him, let alone care about his feelings and show the beginnings of affection and attraction.
Draco slowly moved further into the kitchen. He held out the gift he held towards Harry.
Now that he had actually given it (well, he would be as soon as Harry's fingers closed over it), he was a little wary about how it would be received since overhearing Harry's confession. Oh well. He could not—would not—take it back.
And, really, he'd never know otherwise, would he? He had to've been around Harry too much if he was willing to act like a reckless Gryffindor. (And why was that thought much less disturbing and bothersome?)