Draco's Veela Side (Drarry)

Chapter 2

Malfoy was woken up by a strand of his hair tickling his nose.

He got up and looked down at himself, feeling another bolt of pain flow through him. He ignored it and dragged himself to the bathroom the hospital wing provided to take a better look.

His hair had grew, not by much, just until it reached his jaw, which is perhaps why it had tickled him so much in his sleep. Raking his hand through it, he realised that it had became a lot more silky.
His eyes had turned a deeper grey, only a tiny bit of blue mixed in with it.

What shocked him the most was the huge, black and soft wings that stuck out from his back.
It shivered as he stroked a finger across it, making him grin proudly.

As he went back to the hospital wing, he saw Hermione standing near the doors.
She spotted him and wandered over with a smile.

"Dumbledore said you and your mate don't have to have any classes this week if you do find them, so you can settle down, just thought I'd inform you. He said he'd give you your own room for the two of you. Harry left some breakfast beside your hospital bed but you may want to take a shower to wash off all the dried blood."

She turned to leave, but Malfoy gripped her wrist. It sent almost an eletric shock feel through him, causing him to fall onto his back on the ground.

"Fuck," he grumbled, before standing up to face Hermione, "Well, I don't feel any different. You aren't my mate. So, Hermi- do you mind me calling you that?"

"No not at all."

"How do I erm, know who my mate is?"

"Well, I'm guessing it just hurt you to touch me. I guess you'll start caring about them more and it wont really pain you to touch them. You'll know, okay?"
He smiled and nodded, but then another question shot through his brain.

"Why has Harry been acting as if he cares recently?" He blurted out, and Granger shrugged.

"He doesn't want to see anyone in pain, Malfoy. No matter who it is."

"Call me Draco."
They shook hands, making the boy jump back and hiss in pain.

"Sorry, I forgot."

He shook his head and smiled before heading for a shower.

Whilst getting changed, his wings folded against his back under his shirt. Then he headed out to have breakfast.

A small note was left beside it, and he cautiously ran a thumb over it. Temptation clawed at his chest, so he unwrapped it, squinting to read the scribbles that had been written.

Dear Malfoy,
Hope you feel better. I expect to see your wings, if you allow me to.
From,
Potter.

His eyes widened.
After choking on his food, he rushed down the hallways, suddenly feeling a lot better due to the note.
He knew where Harry would be on a fine Saturday morning.

☆☆☆☆

Sliding to a stop, he scanned the crowd of students scattered around the Quidditch pitch, obviously wanting to practise or just watch.

He saw Harry in mid air, his hair blowing back and his green eyes glowing.
They locked eye contact, and he couldn't help but think about how attractive Potter really was.

Harry, however, forgot he was flying and lost control of his broom as it started to spiral downwards with him on it. All he could think of was how Malfoy had looked at him with such love.

Meanwhile, Draco had realised, and was oblivious to the fact his wings had broke through his top and that he was sprinting ahead.

Everyone shot him strange stares, a few gasps being heard. He concentrated on saving Harry, although he didn't know why.

Just before the raven haired boy collided with the ground, he felt himself land onto something soft and fluffy.
This couldn't be the ground, he thought.

He opened his eyes and his breathing started to speed up when he realised he was trapped in a dark place. He had no clue where, though it reminded him of his old closet back at the Dursleys, and many other horrible memories started to appear in his mind.

Hearing whimpers, he opened his wings slightly to see Harry. He sighed in relief and wrapped his arms around him, standing him up, wrapping a wing protectively over them both.

"Thank you." He smiled as he saw Draco and knew his was safe.
Pulling Harry closer to himself, Draco realised that being touched hadn't hurt anymore.

He gasped and stood back, shaking in fear as a nice smell filled his senses.
He'd wanted to protect and hug Harry, which was quite unusual.
Then it clicked.

"H-Harry?"

"What is it?" He crossed his arms and hurt spread across his face.

"Y-you are my mate."

Their eyes widened, and Granger gave an excited squeal, whilst Ron fainted.

"Move out the way!" They heard Snape call, pushing through the crowd towards them, "Another fight?"

He shook his head violently, and looked up to meet Severus' gaze.
"He-Harry-my mate..."

He watched as the professor raised his eyebrows in shock.
"How can you be sure?"

"I know... He smells nice, a-and I wanted to protect him... It doesn't hurt when he touches me, but it hurt when I accidently touched Hermione's wrist this morning... I think I'd know whether he was my mate." He rolled his eyes, and Snape' face twisted in thought.

"Ron, hit Harry."

"What?!" Harry and Ron yelled at the same time.

"I need to see Draco's reaction." The teacher hissed.

The red headed boy sighed and stood forwards, raising a fist.
"Sorry mate." He waited for Harry's nod and punched him square in the nose.
Potter clutched his bleeding nose and stumbled backwards, tripping and falling into Malfoy's wings.

"Watch it!" Draco growled at Ron, lunging forward. Severus quickly held the boy back, earning a dissaproving snarl.

"Draco..." He heard Harry trail off, and he gasped, rushing back towards the boy.

"Are you okay? You're bleeding!" He held him close, and was suprised when arms slithered around his waist in return.

"I know, I'm fine." He chuckled.

Sense kicked into Harry and he stepped away.
"Mine! My mate! You're mine!" He made grabby hands towards him, before covering his mouth and running away from the crowd and towards the Room of Requirements to be alone.

What had gotten into him? He didn't care for Harry like that... Why did he have to be his mate?
When he came to think of it, he didn't really want to save Harry or lunge at Ron. He would of happily cheered the fight on.

Well, perhaps he did. He groaned and facepalmed.
Harry would reject him.
He knew it, and he was probably going to die in less then 24 hours.

But Harry hadn't rejected him yet.