Department of Magical Creatures Case #625369, 16/18
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Chapter 16
Draco had been feeling restless lately, a condition he attributed to his continuing lack of a mate. To alleviate the ache he had begun to feel, he had taken to walking the streets of London at night. Sometimes Smith came with him, but he had exams to mark that night, and so Draco was by himself. He had wanted to be alone when he'd started his walk by Apparating to the cemetery near Queen's Park. Spending time at a cemetery at night may have been considered a morbid activity, but it guaranteed that he would not be accosted. The air was crisp and warm and he was quite enjoying himself.
As restless as he had been feeling, in general he was happy. Smith had found a more permanent position at a local Wizarding primary school in London, and though it meant they spent less time together, Draco was happy with his choice. Working in London meant that he could move in with Draco, and even after two years, neither regretted the decision yet. Smith was even applying for a residency visa, a difficult and lengthy process that was being helped along by Draco's gold. Smith liked to joke that he was becoming Draco's kept man, to which Draco always replied that if it were true, Smith would quit his job and spend all day worshiping Draco's glorious body. Smith did well with Narcissa; he was kind and gentle with her and didn't mind spending afternoons at tea or playing piano for her. Aunt Antigone even approved of him, and Draco hadn't thought she would ever approve of any of his lovers, including his yet-unfound mate. All things considered, his world was rather lovely. And so of course, it had to be uprooted and thrown into chaos.
It was a freak coincidence, Draco deciding to leave the cemetery to wander the streets when he did. If he had made his decision a minute earlier or later than he had, they might never have met. As it was, he was walking down Willesden Lane, minding his own business and thinking about nothing in particular, when he was suddenly hit by a wall of scent that nearly knocked him down. He was dizzy and giddy and absolutely un-Malfoy. He had to grab ahold of the nearest window sill just to stay upright. He momentarily lost complete control of his senses. The iron grip he had been holding on his pheromones lately fell away and three passers-by fainted from the force of it. Draco took a deep breath to calm himself. If he wasn't careful, he would be a complete fool of himself. He reigned in his pheromones and strengthened his grip on them. They were fighting like mad to burst forth and pull in his mate. But no, whoever his mate turned out to be, Draco was not going to win him by drugging him on veela magic.
Draco turned to the source of the scent and tracked it to a group walking away on the other side of the street. He was in that group of boisterous redheads. Draco watched them, trying to think what he might do, and was immensely surprised to see Potter laughing among them, arm slung around… Weasley? He began to follow them, somewhat disoriented still, but that would relax when he touched him. He could see all the Weasley men in the group, but he had thought he had eliminated all of them.
And then a thought hit him like a bludger to the head. He hadn't seen the Weasel since he'd left Hogwarts. He had talked about him with Potter, but never been in the same room with him. It suddenly all made sense, why he was so drawn to Potter after Potter's visits to Egypt, why he reacted so strongly to Justin when they made love in Weasley's room, why he had worked so hard to make Molly like him. His heart began to speed up and anger suddenly assailed him, causing him to sway slightly. Potter was touching his mate. Holy Fuck, the Weasel was his mate! Nothing could just be easy, could it? he mused as he followed them into a pub.
He planned to sequester a table in the corner in order to better decide a plan of action when he was startled by his name being called. Potter was grinning and flagging him over. Smiling to himself, he went to the summons, eyeing Weasley the whole way. "Evening, Potter."
Potter rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. It was clear by the smell of him that this was not the first pub they had visited. "No need to be so stiff. Come and sit with us. I haven't seen you in a while. Guys, you remember Draco." The group nodded, eyeing him warily. He had not spoken to any of the Weasleys since he had broken things off with the traitor two years ago, but he was too distracted by Ron to feel the awkwardness he should have. They all took their seats and Draco made sure to maneuver himself between Potter and Weasley. "You've met everyone, right, Malfoy? Except maybe Hermione's husband, Nigel?" He indicated the studious man seated next to Granger and they exchanged nods.
"I have. Lovely to see you all again." After a few minutes and a round of drinks, the group broke off into smaller conversations. Draco's heart was beating so quickly he was certain it would beat right out of his chest, and he was beginning to get a bit dizzy again. He needed to speak to Weasley, to touch him. So he slid his hand over the redhead's nonchalantly and Ron's eyes finally met his fully. A flood of warmth spread through Draco, like drinking hot chocolate on the coldest night of the year. His breath caught, and he saw that Ron's did as well. He smiled what he hoped wasn't the dopiest, love-silly smile in the entire universe and calmly enquired after Ron's health, praying that the internal bliss he felt at touching his mate was hidden from notice. When Ron answered civilly, Draco took it as a positive and began to flirt, allowing his hand to move comfortably to his thigh. Ron didn't move away, although he seemed a bit wary of Draco. The conversation was light and flirty and it served to quell Draco's nerves.
The warmth from touching his mate that continued to spread through his body didn't hurt. He felt as though there was nothing in the world that could ever hurt him again now that he had finally found his mate. How could anything possibly go wrong ever again? It wasn't until half-way through the evening that Draco found out that indeed loads of things could still go wrong.
"Why are you touching me? Why are you flirting with me? Draco, we don't even get along." Ron's voice was a whisper and he glanced around the table to make sure that no one was listening to them.
"Maybe I'd like to change that. It's been nearly ten years since we were at school together. Don't you think it's time to stop fighting?"
"Doesn't explain the touching or the flirting. How do you know I'm gay?"
"Potter told me ages ago. It's not important anyway. You would have pulled away from me if you weren't interested."
"And the touching?"
"I would have thought that obvious. You're gorgeous and I want to go home with you."
"And it never occurred to you that I might already be with someone?"
Draco's heart plummeted further. That scenario had never even entered his wildest imagination. Fuck. He shut his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Weasley tried to move his hand, but he tightened his grip. "It had not actually occurred to me that you would be attached. You aren't, are you?"
"Yes, in fact, I am. And I would appreciate it if you backed off."
Draco did no such thing. "Been with him long?"
"Two years."
"And it's… serious?" He nearly stuttered, not noticing that he'd begun to tremble.
"Yes, it is. Very serious."
The blond looked away, trying to maintain his calm. "Of course, I apologize." A cold feeling began to spread outwards from his head, and he barely noticed Harry, who had been in a separate conversation, put a hand on his arm.
"Draco, you okay? You look like you've just seen a ghost." Draco's head was already pushing in too many different directions to process what seeing a ghost had to do with anything.
"I think I should leave. I'll see you around, Potter, Weasleys." He stood shakily and made for the door, thinking he needed Smith, needed some sort of support, that he would Apparate as soon as he was outside and Muggles be damned. Only he was lost in a sea of black before he made it to the door.
/
"Draco!" Harry shouted, jumping into action as soon as he saw the blond falter. He managed to catch him before he hit the floor, but only just. The girls were both out of their chairs and surrounding him in a moment, tittering on about getting him to a chair. There was a brief argument about whether or not it was a good idea to take him to Harry's before it was decided that the best course of action was to lay him down, as all attempts to revive him by magic (and shaking on Harry's part) were unsuccessful. The twins and Nigel were left to settle the tab while the rest brought him to Harry's flat and laid him in the spare room. Harry got a cold flannel for his forehead and the others huddled around the bed.
"What happened? What'd you do, Harry?" Charlie asked, looking cross.
"Nothing! I just asked if he was all right. He looked pale." Harry exclaimed defensively.
"He is pale," muttered Ron.
"Paler than usual! Like a corpse! You were the one talking to him, Ron. What were you talking about?"
Ron looked surly and turned away. "The stupid ferret was trying to get in my trousers."
"And why is zat a reason to be cross? You are attractive, no?"
"I'm also with someone! And he took a while to grasp the concept. And then he started shaking a bit and then he turned deathly pale, like Harry said."
Fleur knitted her brows together and looked down at Draco's limp form. "Zat is an odd way to act when one tells you 'no', no?"
"Probably went into shock. Doubt he's used to the word."
"Especially with sex. He almost got me in bed with him with that magic of his," Harry muttered.
"Magic? Do you mean ze veela magic? I had forgotten zat he was a veela."
"And he passed out when Ron rejected him?" piped in Hermione, the same pensive expression on her face.
"Zat is… very interesting." She and Hermione locked eyes as if they understood one another, a rare and mysterious thing even without all this Malfoy-passing-out business.
"Why don't we go into the kitchen for tea? I'm sure the others are here now. We can go over it again, try to figure out what happened."
"Good idea, come along Harry, Charlie, Bill." Fleur ushered them out. Ron went to follow, but Hermione halted him.
"Maybe you should try again, since it must have been something in that conversation that triggered the reaction." Hermione had him closed in before he could argue that that was nonsense, and he turned to look at the bed with a sigh.
"Great, I get stuck knocking up the Great Ponce." He approached the bed cautiously and looked down at his school rival. The little ferret did look pretty bad, all pale and clammy. Maybe he had a fever? Ron had an inexplicable flicker of worry and pressed the back of his hand to the blond's forehead. An odd warming sensation spread through him. He was surprised to find gray eyes looking up at him, somewhat groggy, but generally aware of their surroundings. "I'll get Hermione. She wanted me to wake you up." He moved to do just that, but found his hand caught in Draco's.
"Don't, not yet. I need to talk to you for a moment."
Ron narrowed his eyes. "I think you've said plenty already."
The blond looked as though his words were a physical blow. "Please? It's important." Ron gestured him silently to go on. "Potter's told you I'm a veela, I know. I'm never quite sure what that means about me as a person, but I do know that a veela's purpose is to find a mate and spend the rest of his life taking care of that mate. It's a compulsion; we have to or we spend our lives searching. I've been looking for eight years."
The redhead interrupted, impatient to get away. His hand was tingling in Draco's and though it felt pleasant, it made him uncomfortable. "What does this have to do with me?"
"Everything. You're it. You're my mate."
Ron stared at him in stunned silence for several minutes before bursting into laughter. "You know, you've pulled some right stupid pranks in the past, but this has got to be the worst. I'm with someone, it's serious. I don't want to shag you, now sod off." He turned, angry now, but Draco held onto his hand and moved onto his knees on the bed to be closer to eye level.
"This is no prank. You don't feel that tingling, warm sensation in your hand? This is real, I'm absolutely certain."
"How do I know that isn't just your magic?"
"My pheromones you mean? I've got complete control of them. Do you feel any need to impress me? Shag me? It isn't much different between half and full veela. This isn't the same as passing a random veela, is it?"
It wasn't, but Ron was not about to admit such a thing to Draco Malfoy. Instead he shook his head obstinately and pulled away, warmth instantly fading, and left the room. All conversation stopped when he entered the kitchen and they all looked at him with guilt, as if they knew something he didn't. "I'm going for a walk. The ferret's awake if you want to see him." Hermione and Fleur started protests, but he was out the back door before they could finish.
/
Smith's last exam was finally finished, and he stacked it on top of the others with a sense of accomplishment. Overall, his students had done well. He smiled to himself and looked around the study to the clock, only to discover that it was past midnight and Draco still wasn't home. He frowned and got up to look for him, thinking that perhaps he hadn't heard him come in. The flat was empty. He went to the Floo and fire-called the Manor, hoping that perhaps Draco had decided to spend the night at his family home. He did that on occasion, but usually told Smith of his plans. It was very unusual for Smith not to know where he was. Barnaby the house-elf appeared at his call, looking worried. "Mister Smith, is you looking for Master Draco?"
"I am. He didn't come home from his walk. Is he there?"
The elf looked worried and rung his hands together. "He is with Mistress. Master is being very upset."
Smith's relief mixed with worry. Why would Draco be upset? What could have made him so upset that he would go directly to his mother without telling Smith where he was going? "I'm coming through," he said before pulling back so he could bodily Floo to the Manor. The elf was still standing at the hearth, now ringing the edge of his tea towel in his hands. "What happened?"
"Master Draco is saying that he is finding his mate and his mate is not wanting him. He is not stopping crying. Mistress is very upset."
Smith's heart stopped. He had known this day would come, but why did it have to be now? What was he going to do? He wasn't ready to be without Draco yet. In the back of his mind, a voice reminded him that he was in love, despite his best efforts to convince himself not to be. He was in love and he was going to have his heart broken. "Where are they? Can you take me to them, please?"
"Yes, Mister Smith. They is this way." The little elf turned on his heel, looking relieved that the burden of a hysterical Draco was off his hands, and took Smith through the labyrinth of the Manor, up several staircases and down several corridors, until they stopped in front of two elaborate doors Smith had never seen before. Granted, there was a great deal of the Manor Smith had yet to see despite his bi-monthly, and sometimes weekly, visits, so he wasn't surprised. There was silence behind it, but a voice he recognized as Narcissa's beckoned him in when he knocked. The scene inside was rather like what he had imagined. Draco was on the bed, face tear-streaked and half-buried in his mother's shoulder. Narcissa sat next him, holding him in her arms as though he were a child again. Only Narcissa looked up when Smith entered.
"Oh, Smith, darling, I'm so happy you've come. The worst possible thing has happened. Draco needs you."
Smith went over without further explanation and wrapped his arms around Draco, who immediately cried out as though in physical pain and shrunk from him. "Draco? What's the matter? What happened?"
"It hurts. Your touch hurts. Don't… don't touch me, please. Just stay there." When Smith finally saw his red-rimmed gray eyes, the despair in them broke his heart. "I'm sorry, but I don't think you can touch me anymore. I've… I've found my… my… my mate. And he doesn't want me." Draco fell apart all over again and buried his face back in his mother's shoulder. Smith looked to Narcissa with alarm. How could anyone not want Draco? He was the most lovely person in the world.
"It's Ronald Weasley. He told Draco that he was in a serious relationship and that he wanted Draco to stay away from him. Draco tried to explain the situation to him, but he walked out."
"It hurts so much…" Draco whispered, clinging to his mother. Smith had never seen him this shaken-up before, not even the night he found out about Justin, and that had been terrible. He looked like a disaster.
"What can I do for you?" He knew what he wanted to do. Kick this Ron Weasley's ass.
"Hold me. But you can't because it hurts. Just sit with me, please?"
"All right, baby. Whatever you want." He went to brush the messy blond fringe from Draco's face, but stopped half-way there. Suddenly, he felt very, very helpless.
/
Ron found himself in front of Harry's flat again and stared at the buzzer for several minutes. Surely, Malfoy would have gone by now, and hopefully the others with him. He didn't want to talk to Fleur and Hermione just then. When he finally hit the buzzer, Harry's voice told him that no one was there, a relief. He quickly found himself sitting on Harry's sofa while Harry was in the kitchen making tea. "I don't understand this. How could Draco Malfoy believe I'm his mate? We don't even get along."
"When was the last time you actually spoke to him, Ron? You haven't seen him since school and you are both totally different people now. He could be exactly what you want in a partner, and given the mating situation, it seems more than likely that he is."
"Or he could be the same little bastard he's always been."
"Growing up with Muggles, you know I know very little about veela and their nature, but I've got the impression that even if he was a little bastard-and he isn't, at least not from my experience-he would never be one to you. Don't veela love their mates unconditionally?"
"In theory. I don't know about Malfoy veela, though. Look at Lucius. He was a monster. Draco could be like that."
"But he isn't. From everything I've seen, and that's a lot more than you know about, he's as self-involved as ever, but he isn't cruel or mean. He's actually kind of… funny."
Ron didn't respond, just stared at the moving photo of Hermione and Nigel sitting on the coffee table in front of him. "I can't leave Franck."
"Don't you think you should at least tell him about the situation? He has veela heritage, doesn't he? I mean, he's a cousin of Fleur's, so of course he does. Maybe he'll understand."
He nodded absently and sipped the tea Harry had placed in his hands half-way through their conversation. "Can I sleep on the sofa for a few hours before I go to France? I'm too exhausted not to splinch myself from here to Calais."
"Yeah, of course. Take all the time you need. I have to be out by five, but you know how to set the wards."
"You're going on a mission? You just got back."
Harry shrugged and gave him a funny half-smile. "I'm saving up for something." He didn't elaborate, just bid Ron a good night and went into his bedroom. Ron finished his tea and sent it to the kitchen. He summoned a blanket and pillow and lay down with his feet hanging off the end of the sofa. It was near dawn before he fell asleep.
Ron woke mid-morning and made his way from London to Beauxbatons, Apparating first to Dover, then after a brief rest to Calais, then to Beauxbatons, where he had to lean against a tree to catch his breath before heading up to the school. The older students all recognized him as he often came and went, and a few of the girls giggled behind their hands before informing him that Franck (Professor Delacour to them) was just finishing his last lesson before lunch. Ron thanked them in his appalling French and made his way to Franck's rooms to wait for him. Even if Franck had planned to lunch in the hall with the other professors and students, Ron was sure the rumor mill would direct him to his visitor. He waited nervously, fumbling with a letter opener on Franck's desk and nearly slicing a student's essay in half.
"Mon Coeur, what are you doing 'ere? I zought you were wiz your family for your brozer's birsday." Smiling, Franck walked over to his desk, slid his arms around his fumbling lover, and kissed him deeply. "Not zat I am not 'appy to see you."
Ron hesitated, thoughts running rampant through his head. He loved this man so much; how could he leave him for the likes of Malfoy? Despite what Harry and Fleur and Hermione and Malfoy had all said about them being soul mates, Ron didn't like Malfoy. He might have had a curiosity about the veela over the years and he might think the bloke was gorgeous and the warmth he felt when Malfoy touched him might have filled some hole in the deepest recesses of his heart, but Ron didn't think he could honestly be with him. And so he made a decision, one he might come to regret later, but that would be later. Right now, all he wanted to do was be with Franck. "I just wanted to see you," he said with a smile.
Franck beamed at him and kissed him again. "I am 'appy zat you came. I 'ave missed you much."
"I missed you, too." They had a quiet lunch together and Ron's mind settled a little. He had made the right decision not to tell Franck. He didn't want to live without this man, not when he was so in love with him. He was further convinced by the intense kiss they shared right before Franck left for his afternoon classes.
/
Draco opened his eyes to the worried face of his personal house-elf, Tinker. Tinker had been trying to ply him with food and baths for days, but Draco had just not been able to find the energy to do anything but cry. He was tired of crying. He was tired of the constant dull pain that ran through his body, tired of the doubting, the frustration, and the despair. He needed to get over this, if that was even possible. He decided it was high time he stopped wallowing in his own pain and cleaned himself up. He would never convince Ron to be with him if he died in bed in a puddle of his own filth. He sat up, waiting a moment for the dizziness to wear off before speaking. "Good morning, Tinker. I think I'd like a bath today. And tell the kitchen elves I would like a full breakfast spread." He stood on wobbly legs, steadied, then walked to the bathroom.
Once he had bathed, he sat down at his writing desk to pen a few owls. MacMillan would need to be told of this new development. Draco knew that there were forms that would need to be filed, for real this time, and that Ron was not going to agree to come to the Ministry with him any time soon. The soak in the bath had done him a world of good, he decided, because now he could think of his Ron without feeling the uncontrollable urge to cry. It still hurt, though, both physically as well as mentally, knowing that his mate did not want to share his life with him. Draco had spent much of his time in the bath scheming up ways to win Ron's heart, but he had ultimately decided that he did not want his mate through trickery. He did not want to have to bombard Ron with pheromones until he stripped naked and threw himself at Draco. He wanted his mate to come to him freely and of his own will. It was an odd desire, especially coming from someone like him, who was used to getting his way no matter what.
He shrugged his shoulders to himself and finished his letter to MacMillan, only to write another to Harry Potter. He was going to need a purpose in life if he was going to have to survive without his mate for any length of time and keep his mother alive as well. He could already see the strain in her, trying to cheer him up when she was already so lost in despair herself. She was still fast asleep in fact, too exhausted to have even stirred when he had awoken that morning. He could see her, curled into the pillows next to the indentation he had left, where she had been for the last week in a vain effort to help him. He turned back to his writing desk and wrote a short note to Potter, requesting a lunch date to discuss the possibility of taking in Severus once again. He hoped that Potter felt sorry enough for him to say yes this time.
/
MacMillan -
I have found my mate. He is Ronald Weasley. He has refused me, claiming that he is in love with another man and that he does not want to leave that man. What am I going to do? I can't breathe without him. I don't know how to function. I have not left my bed in three days and I cannot stop crying. I have never needed something as badly as I need him. Smith has been trying to comfort me, but his touch is like a branding iron. Is that normal? Is there any way to stop this reaction? A potion, perhaps? Please, help me.
I know that Ron must register with the Ministry, but I do not think he will consent to come with me to do so. Would you be so kind as to send him the forms? Could you also include a copy of all of the paperwork I have submitted to the Ministry over the past several years? It is not much, but I hope that if he reads them, he might be able to understand me better, and possibly change his mind.
Thank you,
Draco Malfoy
PS: I have enclosed my usual form. Will the form be changing now that I have definitely found my mate or will his refusal to be with me effect the change?
Form: 83352739
Name: Draco Malfoy
Registry Number: 625369
Date: 8 July 2006
Age: 26
Mate: Ronald Weasley
Current Location: London, England
Number of Sexual Encounter(s): 1
Name(s) of Partner(s): Smith Michael 1(M)
Age(s) of Partner(s): 30
Species of Partner(s): wizard
Description of Sexual Encounter(s): I do not wish to think about it. I care deeply for Smith, but I can no longer think about having sex with anyone but my mate.
Was non-Veela magic used during the encounter(s)?: No
If so, what spell or potion was used and what were its affects?:
Did any encounter result in pregnancy?:
Was Veela Power used in any manner not involved in finding a mate?: No
If so, how and why?:
Comments: How could I have ever thought Justin was my mate? My devotion to Ron is on an entirely different level. It's nearly overwhelming. I have moments where I can't breathe for the pain of not having him near me. How am I ever going to survive if he continues to refuse me?
/
Ron felt more normal now that he was back in Egypt. It was strange to consider. When he had first come to Egypt, he had felt like a foreigner and had missed home so much that it made him depressed some times, but now after so many years, it was home. After the debacle with Malfoy at Charlie's birthday do and all the guilt and indecision he had been feeling since, coming home to Egypt was even more comforting than normal. Here he could breathe, and he didn't have to think about his family or Malfoy or what it might mean to be a veela's mate. Or at least, that was what he had hoped would happen until the package arrived the day after his return just as he was coming back from work.
A large British Ministry owl was perched next to his barn owl, Lysander, when he arrived home. As soon as he walked in the door, the owl flew to him and deposited a thick roll of scrolls into his hands. He untied the scroll to find a Ministry-issue letter atop what looked to be over a hundred forms, filled out in a tall, elegant hand. Ron sat down to read and possibly understand what this was all about.
Ernest MacMillan
Ministry of Magic
Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures
Level 4
Dear Ronald Weasley,
The Ministry of Magic wishes first and foremost to congratulate you on the discovery of your mating to Draco Malfoy. To be a veela's mate is a great honor. It has come to the Ministry's attention via Mr. Malfoy himself that it is possible that you do not understand the extent of this gift, and it is by his request that a copy of all records regarding Mr. Malfoy be forwarded to you along with information that you will need to know. Enclosed are copies of the form Mr. Malfoy has been required to file with the Ministry since 2001. Mr. Malfoy has requested that you read them so as to make a more informed decision.
Along with these forms, it is the duty of the Ministry to inform you of the legal issues that accompany becoming the mate of a veela. You are required to register with the Ministry of Registration and Control of Magical Creatures as Mr. Malfoy's mate. This requirement is in place regardless of whether or not you choose to remain with Mr. Malfoy. The necessary forms are included in the enclosed paperwork. Please return the completed forms to the Ministry within three business days.
If you decide to bond with Mr. Malfoy, the Ministry will need to be informed once the blood bond has been completed. I would normally leave this in Mr. Malfoy's hands, but as he has a tendency to 'forget' certain rules he dislikes, I think it best to leave this to you.
If you have any further questions, please do not hesitate to ask by return owl.
Thank you and good day,
Ernest MacMillan
Head of Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures
Ministry of Magic
E.M.
Under a ward only deactivated by Ron's touch was a post script.
PS- Are you insane? Bloody fuck, he's a fucking veela, Ron. He's gorgeous and a phenomenal lover, not to mention that he's anticipated you for so long he's going to worship you for at least six months, only to dull down to a devotion and love for you for the rest of his life. Sodding shag him already before he cries himself into a state like his mother and I have to deal with him.
Ron raised an eyebrow at this. He didn't think he had ever known Ernie to swear, at least not since he nearly missed his Arithmancy NEWT exam because he was too busy studying for it. With this in mind, he turned to the forms. In the first he was surprised to see that Draco had been with Ernie himself. That must have been how Ernie knew Draco was a fantastic shag. Ron liked that Draco was rather sarcastic and biting in his dislike of having to be monitored. Reading about Justin was interesting. Ron had told himself that perhaps Draco hadn't really been in love with him, and that was how it was so easy for him to cheat, but the forms told a different story. Since then, the forms were more subdued. He had been steady with this Smith bloke; it was clear he loved him, but also that Smith wasn't Draco's mate. When questions started popping up-Is this normal? What's wrong with me? Is there any way to dull this ache? I'm tired of waking discontent. Will he ever show himself? Am I dysfunctional? This hurts; why can't I find him?-Ron became uneasy. Draco physically hurt without him. He had not expected that. It made his decision even harder.
He sighed in frustration, rubbing his palms over his eyes to soothe the strain. He let the forms fall to the ground, weary of all the reading. Had he made the right decision by denying Draco or was he just stalling the inevitable?
/
"Potter, my mother and I owe the man our lives. Please let me do this. It's the only thing that will keep me sane and relatively healthy until Ron decides not to be with that… person anymore."
Harry sighed and rubbed his nose as he thought. After a long moment, he nodded. "Fine, you can have him, but I will be making weekly visits to make sure you're keeping your promise. He has to be monitored twenty-four hours a day, do you hear me?"
Draco beamed at him, setting his heart a flutter and catching the waiter mid-step, causing him to drop a tray of dirty dishes near their table. "Thank you. I'll take care of him. He won't have a wand and the wards will ensure he doesn't leave, I promise." His eyes went a little glassy then and darted to the door. Harry looked over to see Ron standing, waiting to be seated. He saw them and his eyes grew wide in surprise and possibly scorn. He didn't even wait for the hostess to seat him before heading over to their table.
"Harry, what are you doing here with Malfoy?"
"Draco invited me to lunch. What are you doing here?"
"Meeting Hermione and Nigel. She said she tried to contact you."
There was an awkward silence after Ron spoke, Ron looking uncomfortable because Draco would not stop looking at him as though he wanted to devour him. The blond broke the silence. "You look wonderful, Ron. I hope you're doing well."
"I'm fine," Ron retorted rather tersely. Draco was still staring at him with that slightly drunken eye.
"Did you receive the forms I had MacMillan send to you?"
"Yeah, I sent back the ones I had to."
"I don't suppose you've reconsidered, then?" His hand slid into Ron's, causing that tingling warmth to spread through them both again. Ron coughed awkwardly and pulled away, tucking his hands in his pockets. Draco looked visibly wounded.
Harry gave Ron a chastising look fit for Hermione. "Ron…" But he was cut off by the blond, who shook away the pained look and hid it behind a mask of cool indifference.
"Nevermind, Harry. He has already made his decision against me. Let's not keep him from his lunch date; I believe I see Mr. and Mrs. Griffith at the door now." They both looked over and there stood Hermione, shaking the rain droplets from her hair. Nigel stood behind her, spelling their umbrella dry with a flick of his wand. Ron murmured a farewell and, with a hasty glance at Draco that might have been regret, went to join them.
"He'll come around, don't worry. He's just being stubborn." Harry's eyes drifted back to Draco. The blond sat stiff in his chair, back straight, fingers clenched on the edge of the table, jaw set. Harry recognized the restrained pain in his face and the strength it took to stay in his seat and not fall to pieces. He had felt that same strain when Sirius had died, and then again with Ginny. It was pain beyond comprehension, and there was nothing Harry could do for him. Except there was.
"I'll get the paperwork started for Snape on Monday."
Draco's eyes shifted from his untouched salad to Harry, a faint glimmer of hope just sparking. "Thank you." His voice was raspy, as though he were fighting tears, though Harry saw no evidence of them on his face.
"I'm serious about the conditions. I'm going to check in every week. All of your promised stipulations will have to be in place. No wand, there need to be anti-Apparition wards around the Manor, he'll be making potions for St. Mungo's. And there will be a probationary period of six months. If anything-and I mean anything-goes wrong, he goes straight back. No second chances."
"Of course. We will make sure that every precaution is set in place. Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me." Draco took his hand across the table, his own fingers trembling.
Harry squeezed them reassuringly. "I know what you're going through. I threw myself into work when Ginny died. If I hadn't had work to distract me, I don't think I would have made it. I know Ron isn't dead, but I see the same pain in you, like you're under a mild Cruciatus all the time, right?"
Draco looked at him as though he were a new species. "Yes, that's it exactly."
"It'll get better. You're half-way there just managing to get out of bed and out of the house."
Draco snorted, some of the tension leaving him until his eyes darted back to where Ron sat with Hermione and Nigel. Harry glanced over and caught Ron's eyes flashing to them, too. Ron was being stubborn, but Harry knew he wouldn't last. Franck was great and all, and Harry knew they loved each other, but Harry didn't think Ron would be able to resist Draco for very long. The blond had a way of getting what he wanted, even if he didn't seem to be using his veela allure this time. "I'm doing it for him," Draco confessed, shaking Harry from his thoughts. "I didn't get out of bed for a week after I left your place. I don't think I even thanked you for helping me. I… I know we don't always see eye-to-eye, but I… I appreciate what you've done for me, Potter. You're a better friend than I ever gave you credit for."
Harry stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. This might have been the most sincere and serious Harry had ever seen Draco, outside of the incident on the Tower so many years ago. He smiled to break the mood, uncomfortable with the earnestness of Draco's stare. Draco smiled in return, though it was small and didn't make it all the way to his eyes. They darted once more to Ron, then back to Harry. "I'm glad we've got over our differences, too, Draco. You're a good man, and I'm going to do everything in my power to convince Ron to be with you."
"Thank you."
The rest of the meal consisted of thrashing out the details of Snape's release. Draco's attention wasn't fully on Harry, Harry could tell. He spent far too much of the rest of their meal keeping track of Ron's movements from across the room, but Harry couldn't fault him. He was distracted himself, trying to grapple with the knowledge that he was releasing the man he hated most in this world into the comfort and care of trusted friends. Harry still wasn't sure Snape deserved it, but he knew that Draco and Narcissa needed Snape enough to let the former pass.
>
Thank you to wwmrsweasleydo! You are awesome and I worship you!
And to everyone else, please don't hate me. ::ducks flying tomatoes::
Chapter 16
Draco had been feeling restless lately, a condition he attributed to his continuing lack of a mate. To alleviate the ache he had begun to feel, he had taken to walking the streets of London at night. Sometimes Smith came with him, but he had exams to mark that night, and so Draco was by himself. He had wanted to be alone when he'd started his walk by Apparating to the cemetery near Queen's Park. Spending time at a cemetery at night may have been considered a morbid activity, but it guaranteed that he would not be accosted. The air was crisp and warm and he was quite enjoying himself.
As restless as he had been feeling, in general he was happy. Smith had found a more permanent position at a local Wizarding primary school in London, and though it meant they spent less time together, Draco was happy with his choice. Working in London meant that he could move in with Draco, and even after two years, neither regretted the decision yet. Smith was even applying for a residency visa, a difficult and lengthy process that was being helped along by Draco's gold. Smith liked to joke that he was becoming Draco's kept man, to which Draco always replied that if it were true, Smith would quit his job and spend all day worshiping Draco's glorious body. Smith did well with Narcissa; he was kind and gentle with her and didn't mind spending afternoons at tea or playing piano for her. Aunt Antigone even approved of him, and Draco hadn't thought she would ever approve of any of his lovers, including his yet-unfound mate. All things considered, his world was rather lovely. And so of course, it had to be uprooted and thrown into chaos.
It was a freak coincidence, Draco deciding to leave the cemetery to wander the streets when he did. If he had made his decision a minute earlier or later than he had, they might never have met. As it was, he was walking down Willesden Lane, minding his own business and thinking about nothing in particular, when he was suddenly hit by a wall of scent that nearly knocked him down. He was dizzy and giddy and absolutely un-Malfoy. He had to grab ahold of the nearest window sill just to stay upright. He momentarily lost complete control of his senses. The iron grip he had been holding on his pheromones lately fell away and three passers-by fainted from the force of it. Draco took a deep breath to calm himself. If he wasn't careful, he would be a complete fool of himself. He reigned in his pheromones and strengthened his grip on them. They were fighting like mad to burst forth and pull in his mate. But no, whoever his mate turned out to be, Draco was not going to win him by drugging him on veela magic.
Draco turned to the source of the scent and tracked it to a group walking away on the other side of the street. He was in that group of boisterous redheads. Draco watched them, trying to think what he might do, and was immensely surprised to see Potter laughing among them, arm slung around… Weasley? He began to follow them, somewhat disoriented still, but that would relax when he touched him. He could see all the Weasley men in the group, but he had thought he had eliminated all of them.
And then a thought hit him like a bludger to the head. He hadn't seen the Weasel since he'd left Hogwarts. He had talked about him with Potter, but never been in the same room with him. It suddenly all made sense, why he was so drawn to Potter after Potter's visits to Egypt, why he reacted so strongly to Justin when they made love in Weasley's room, why he had worked so hard to make Molly like him. His heart began to speed up and anger suddenly assailed him, causing him to sway slightly. Potter was touching his mate. Holy Fuck, the Weasel was his mate! Nothing could just be easy, could it? he mused as he followed them into a pub.
He planned to sequester a table in the corner in order to better decide a plan of action when he was startled by his name being called. Potter was grinning and flagging him over. Smiling to himself, he went to the summons, eyeing Weasley the whole way. "Evening, Potter."
Potter rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. It was clear by the smell of him that this was not the first pub they had visited. "No need to be so stiff. Come and sit with us. I haven't seen you in a while. Guys, you remember Draco." The group nodded, eyeing him warily. He had not spoken to any of the Weasleys since he had broken things off with the traitor two years ago, but he was too distracted by Ron to feel the awkwardness he should have. They all took their seats and Draco made sure to maneuver himself between Potter and Weasley. "You've met everyone, right, Malfoy? Except maybe Hermione's husband, Nigel?" He indicated the studious man seated next to Granger and they exchanged nods.
"I have. Lovely to see you all again." After a few minutes and a round of drinks, the group broke off into smaller conversations. Draco's heart was beating so quickly he was certain it would beat right out of his chest, and he was beginning to get a bit dizzy again. He needed to speak to Weasley, to touch him. So he slid his hand over the redhead's nonchalantly and Ron's eyes finally met his fully. A flood of warmth spread through Draco, like drinking hot chocolate on the coldest night of the year. His breath caught, and he saw that Ron's did as well. He smiled what he hoped wasn't the dopiest, love-silly smile in the entire universe and calmly enquired after Ron's health, praying that the internal bliss he felt at touching his mate was hidden from notice. When Ron answered civilly, Draco took it as a positive and began to flirt, allowing his hand to move comfortably to his thigh. Ron didn't move away, although he seemed a bit wary of Draco. The conversation was light and flirty and it served to quell Draco's nerves.
The warmth from touching his mate that continued to spread through his body didn't hurt. He felt as though there was nothing in the world that could ever hurt him again now that he had finally found his mate. How could anything possibly go wrong ever again? It wasn't until half-way through the evening that Draco found out that indeed loads of things could still go wrong.
"Why are you touching me? Why are you flirting with me? Draco, we don't even get along." Ron's voice was a whisper and he glanced around the table to make sure that no one was listening to them.
"Maybe I'd like to change that. It's been nearly ten years since we were at school together. Don't you think it's time to stop fighting?"
"Doesn't explain the touching or the flirting. How do you know I'm gay?"
"Potter told me ages ago. It's not important anyway. You would have pulled away from me if you weren't interested."
"And the touching?"
"I would have thought that obvious. You're gorgeous and I want to go home with you."
"And it never occurred to you that I might already be with someone?"
Draco's heart plummeted further. That scenario had never even entered his wildest imagination. Fuck. He shut his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Weasley tried to move his hand, but he tightened his grip. "It had not actually occurred to me that you would be attached. You aren't, are you?"
"Yes, in fact, I am. And I would appreciate it if you backed off."
Draco did no such thing. "Been with him long?"
"Two years."
"And it's… serious?" He nearly stuttered, not noticing that he'd begun to tremble.
"Yes, it is. Very serious."
The blond looked away, trying to maintain his calm. "Of course, I apologize." A cold feeling began to spread outwards from his head, and he barely noticed Harry, who had been in a separate conversation, put a hand on his arm.
"Draco, you okay? You look like you've just seen a ghost." Draco's head was already pushing in too many different directions to process what seeing a ghost had to do with anything.
"I think I should leave. I'll see you around, Potter, Weasleys." He stood shakily and made for the door, thinking he needed Smith, needed some sort of support, that he would Apparate as soon as he was outside and Muggles be damned. Only he was lost in a sea of black before he made it to the door.
/
"Draco!" Harry shouted, jumping into action as soon as he saw the blond falter. He managed to catch him before he hit the floor, but only just. The girls were both out of their chairs and surrounding him in a moment, tittering on about getting him to a chair. There was a brief argument about whether or not it was a good idea to take him to Harry's before it was decided that the best course of action was to lay him down, as all attempts to revive him by magic (and shaking on Harry's part) were unsuccessful. The twins and Nigel were left to settle the tab while the rest brought him to Harry's flat and laid him in the spare room. Harry got a cold flannel for his forehead and the others huddled around the bed.
"What happened? What'd you do, Harry?" Charlie asked, looking cross.
"Nothing! I just asked if he was all right. He looked pale." Harry exclaimed defensively.
"He is pale," muttered Ron.
"Paler than usual! Like a corpse! You were the one talking to him, Ron. What were you talking about?"
Ron looked surly and turned away. "The stupid ferret was trying to get in my trousers."
"And why is zat a reason to be cross? You are attractive, no?"
"I'm also with someone! And he took a while to grasp the concept. And then he started shaking a bit and then he turned deathly pale, like Harry said."
Fleur knitted her brows together and looked down at Draco's limp form. "Zat is an odd way to act when one tells you 'no', no?"
"Probably went into shock. Doubt he's used to the word."
"Especially with sex. He almost got me in bed with him with that magic of his," Harry muttered.
"Magic? Do you mean ze veela magic? I had forgotten zat he was a veela."
"And he passed out when Ron rejected him?" piped in Hermione, the same pensive expression on her face.
"Zat is… very interesting." She and Hermione locked eyes as if they understood one another, a rare and mysterious thing even without all this Malfoy-passing-out business.
"Why don't we go into the kitchen for tea? I'm sure the others are here now. We can go over it again, try to figure out what happened."
"Good idea, come along Harry, Charlie, Bill." Fleur ushered them out. Ron went to follow, but Hermione halted him.
"Maybe you should try again, since it must have been something in that conversation that triggered the reaction." Hermione had him closed in before he could argue that that was nonsense, and he turned to look at the bed with a sigh.
"Great, I get stuck knocking up the Great Ponce." He approached the bed cautiously and looked down at his school rival. The little ferret did look pretty bad, all pale and clammy. Maybe he had a fever? Ron had an inexplicable flicker of worry and pressed the back of his hand to the blond's forehead. An odd warming sensation spread through him. He was surprised to find gray eyes looking up at him, somewhat groggy, but generally aware of their surroundings. "I'll get Hermione. She wanted me to wake you up." He moved to do just that, but found his hand caught in Draco's.
"Don't, not yet. I need to talk to you for a moment."
Ron narrowed his eyes. "I think you've said plenty already."
The blond looked as though his words were a physical blow. "Please? It's important." Ron gestured him silently to go on. "Potter's told you I'm a veela, I know. I'm never quite sure what that means about me as a person, but I do know that a veela's purpose is to find a mate and spend the rest of his life taking care of that mate. It's a compulsion; we have to or we spend our lives searching. I've been looking for eight years."
The redhead interrupted, impatient to get away. His hand was tingling in Draco's and though it felt pleasant, it made him uncomfortable. "What does this have to do with me?"
"Everything. You're it. You're my mate."
Ron stared at him in stunned silence for several minutes before bursting into laughter. "You know, you've pulled some right stupid pranks in the past, but this has got to be the worst. I'm with someone, it's serious. I don't want to shag you, now sod off." He turned, angry now, but Draco held onto his hand and moved onto his knees on the bed to be closer to eye level.
"This is no prank. You don't feel that tingling, warm sensation in your hand? This is real, I'm absolutely certain."
"How do I know that isn't just your magic?"
"My pheromones you mean? I've got complete control of them. Do you feel any need to impress me? Shag me? It isn't much different between half and full veela. This isn't the same as passing a random veela, is it?"
It wasn't, but Ron was not about to admit such a thing to Draco Malfoy. Instead he shook his head obstinately and pulled away, warmth instantly fading, and left the room. All conversation stopped when he entered the kitchen and they all looked at him with guilt, as if they knew something he didn't. "I'm going for a walk. The ferret's awake if you want to see him." Hermione and Fleur started protests, but he was out the back door before they could finish.
/
Smith's last exam was finally finished, and he stacked it on top of the others with a sense of accomplishment. Overall, his students had done well. He smiled to himself and looked around the study to the clock, only to discover that it was past midnight and Draco still wasn't home. He frowned and got up to look for him, thinking that perhaps he hadn't heard him come in. The flat was empty. He went to the Floo and fire-called the Manor, hoping that perhaps Draco had decided to spend the night at his family home. He did that on occasion, but usually told Smith of his plans. It was very unusual for Smith not to know where he was. Barnaby the house-elf appeared at his call, looking worried. "Mister Smith, is you looking for Master Draco?"
"I am. He didn't come home from his walk. Is he there?"
The elf looked worried and rung his hands together. "He is with Mistress. Master is being very upset."
Smith's relief mixed with worry. Why would Draco be upset? What could have made him so upset that he would go directly to his mother without telling Smith where he was going? "I'm coming through," he said before pulling back so he could bodily Floo to the Manor. The elf was still standing at the hearth, now ringing the edge of his tea towel in his hands. "What happened?"
"Master Draco is saying that he is finding his mate and his mate is not wanting him. He is not stopping crying. Mistress is very upset."
Smith's heart stopped. He had known this day would come, but why did it have to be now? What was he going to do? He wasn't ready to be without Draco yet. In the back of his mind, a voice reminded him that he was in love, despite his best efforts to convince himself not to be. He was in love and he was going to have his heart broken. "Where are they? Can you take me to them, please?"
"Yes, Mister Smith. They is this way." The little elf turned on his heel, looking relieved that the burden of a hysterical Draco was off his hands, and took Smith through the labyrinth of the Manor, up several staircases and down several corridors, until they stopped in front of two elaborate doors Smith had never seen before. Granted, there was a great deal of the Manor Smith had yet to see despite his bi-monthly, and sometimes weekly, visits, so he wasn't surprised. There was silence behind it, but a voice he recognized as Narcissa's beckoned him in when he knocked. The scene inside was rather like what he had imagined. Draco was on the bed, face tear-streaked and half-buried in his mother's shoulder. Narcissa sat next him, holding him in her arms as though he were a child again. Only Narcissa looked up when Smith entered.
"Oh, Smith, darling, I'm so happy you've come. The worst possible thing has happened. Draco needs you."
Smith went over without further explanation and wrapped his arms around Draco, who immediately cried out as though in physical pain and shrunk from him. "Draco? What's the matter? What happened?"
"It hurts. Your touch hurts. Don't… don't touch me, please. Just stay there." When Smith finally saw his red-rimmed gray eyes, the despair in them broke his heart. "I'm sorry, but I don't think you can touch me anymore. I've… I've found my… my… my mate. And he doesn't want me." Draco fell apart all over again and buried his face back in his mother's shoulder. Smith looked to Narcissa with alarm. How could anyone not want Draco? He was the most lovely person in the world.
"It's Ronald Weasley. He told Draco that he was in a serious relationship and that he wanted Draco to stay away from him. Draco tried to explain the situation to him, but he walked out."
"It hurts so much…" Draco whispered, clinging to his mother. Smith had never seen him this shaken-up before, not even the night he found out about Justin, and that had been terrible. He looked like a disaster.
"What can I do for you?" He knew what he wanted to do. Kick this Ron Weasley's ass.
"Hold me. But you can't because it hurts. Just sit with me, please?"
"All right, baby. Whatever you want." He went to brush the messy blond fringe from Draco's face, but stopped half-way there. Suddenly, he felt very, very helpless.
/
Ron found himself in front of Harry's flat again and stared at the buzzer for several minutes. Surely, Malfoy would have gone by now, and hopefully the others with him. He didn't want to talk to Fleur and Hermione just then. When he finally hit the buzzer, Harry's voice told him that no one was there, a relief. He quickly found himself sitting on Harry's sofa while Harry was in the kitchen making tea. "I don't understand this. How could Draco Malfoy believe I'm his mate? We don't even get along."
"When was the last time you actually spoke to him, Ron? You haven't seen him since school and you are both totally different people now. He could be exactly what you want in a partner, and given the mating situation, it seems more than likely that he is."
"Or he could be the same little bastard he's always been."
"Growing up with Muggles, you know I know very little about veela and their nature, but I've got the impression that even if he was a little bastard-and he isn't, at least not from my experience-he would never be one to you. Don't veela love their mates unconditionally?"
"In theory. I don't know about Malfoy veela, though. Look at Lucius. He was a monster. Draco could be like that."
"But he isn't. From everything I've seen, and that's a lot more than you know about, he's as self-involved as ever, but he isn't cruel or mean. He's actually kind of… funny."
Ron didn't respond, just stared at the moving photo of Hermione and Nigel sitting on the coffee table in front of him. "I can't leave Franck."
"Don't you think you should at least tell him about the situation? He has veela heritage, doesn't he? I mean, he's a cousin of Fleur's, so of course he does. Maybe he'll understand."
He nodded absently and sipped the tea Harry had placed in his hands half-way through their conversation. "Can I sleep on the sofa for a few hours before I go to France? I'm too exhausted not to splinch myself from here to Calais."
"Yeah, of course. Take all the time you need. I have to be out by five, but you know how to set the wards."
"You're going on a mission? You just got back."
Harry shrugged and gave him a funny half-smile. "I'm saving up for something." He didn't elaborate, just bid Ron a good night and went into his bedroom. Ron finished his tea and sent it to the kitchen. He summoned a blanket and pillow and lay down with his feet hanging off the end of the sofa. It was near dawn before he fell asleep.
Ron woke mid-morning and made his way from London to Beauxbatons, Apparating first to Dover, then after a brief rest to Calais, then to Beauxbatons, where he had to lean against a tree to catch his breath before heading up to the school. The older students all recognized him as he often came and went, and a few of the girls giggled behind their hands before informing him that Franck (Professor Delacour to them) was just finishing his last lesson before lunch. Ron thanked them in his appalling French and made his way to Franck's rooms to wait for him. Even if Franck had planned to lunch in the hall with the other professors and students, Ron was sure the rumor mill would direct him to his visitor. He waited nervously, fumbling with a letter opener on Franck's desk and nearly slicing a student's essay in half.
"Mon Coeur, what are you doing 'ere? I zought you were wiz your family for your brozer's birsday." Smiling, Franck walked over to his desk, slid his arms around his fumbling lover, and kissed him deeply. "Not zat I am not 'appy to see you."
Ron hesitated, thoughts running rampant through his head. He loved this man so much; how could he leave him for the likes of Malfoy? Despite what Harry and Fleur and Hermione and Malfoy had all said about them being soul mates, Ron didn't like Malfoy. He might have had a curiosity about the veela over the years and he might think the bloke was gorgeous and the warmth he felt when Malfoy touched him might have filled some hole in the deepest recesses of his heart, but Ron didn't think he could honestly be with him. And so he made a decision, one he might come to regret later, but that would be later. Right now, all he wanted to do was be with Franck. "I just wanted to see you," he said with a smile.
Franck beamed at him and kissed him again. "I am 'appy zat you came. I 'ave missed you much."
"I missed you, too." They had a quiet lunch together and Ron's mind settled a little. He had made the right decision not to tell Franck. He didn't want to live without this man, not when he was so in love with him. He was further convinced by the intense kiss they shared right before Franck left for his afternoon classes.
/
Draco opened his eyes to the worried face of his personal house-elf, Tinker. Tinker had been trying to ply him with food and baths for days, but Draco had just not been able to find the energy to do anything but cry. He was tired of crying. He was tired of the constant dull pain that ran through his body, tired of the doubting, the frustration, and the despair. He needed to get over this, if that was even possible. He decided it was high time he stopped wallowing in his own pain and cleaned himself up. He would never convince Ron to be with him if he died in bed in a puddle of his own filth. He sat up, waiting a moment for the dizziness to wear off before speaking. "Good morning, Tinker. I think I'd like a bath today. And tell the kitchen elves I would like a full breakfast spread." He stood on wobbly legs, steadied, then walked to the bathroom.
Once he had bathed, he sat down at his writing desk to pen a few owls. MacMillan would need to be told of this new development. Draco knew that there were forms that would need to be filed, for real this time, and that Ron was not going to agree to come to the Ministry with him any time soon. The soak in the bath had done him a world of good, he decided, because now he could think of his Ron without feeling the uncontrollable urge to cry. It still hurt, though, both physically as well as mentally, knowing that his mate did not want to share his life with him. Draco had spent much of his time in the bath scheming up ways to win Ron's heart, but he had ultimately decided that he did not want his mate through trickery. He did not want to have to bombard Ron with pheromones until he stripped naked and threw himself at Draco. He wanted his mate to come to him freely and of his own will. It was an odd desire, especially coming from someone like him, who was used to getting his way no matter what.
He shrugged his shoulders to himself and finished his letter to MacMillan, only to write another to Harry Potter. He was going to need a purpose in life if he was going to have to survive without his mate for any length of time and keep his mother alive as well. He could already see the strain in her, trying to cheer him up when she was already so lost in despair herself. She was still fast asleep in fact, too exhausted to have even stirred when he had awoken that morning. He could see her, curled into the pillows next to the indentation he had left, where she had been for the last week in a vain effort to help him. He turned back to his writing desk and wrote a short note to Potter, requesting a lunch date to discuss the possibility of taking in Severus once again. He hoped that Potter felt sorry enough for him to say yes this time.
/
MacMillan -
I have found my mate. He is Ronald Weasley. He has refused me, claiming that he is in love with another man and that he does not want to leave that man. What am I going to do? I can't breathe without him. I don't know how to function. I have not left my bed in three days and I cannot stop crying. I have never needed something as badly as I need him. Smith has been trying to comfort me, but his touch is like a branding iron. Is that normal? Is there any way to stop this reaction? A potion, perhaps? Please, help me.
I know that Ron must register with the Ministry, but I do not think he will consent to come with me to do so. Would you be so kind as to send him the forms? Could you also include a copy of all of the paperwork I have submitted to the Ministry over the past several years? It is not much, but I hope that if he reads them, he might be able to understand me better, and possibly change his mind.
Thank you,
Draco Malfoy
PS: I have enclosed my usual form. Will the form be changing now that I have definitely found my mate or will his refusal to be with me effect the change?
Form: 83352739
Name: Draco Malfoy
Registry Number: 625369
Date: 8 July 2006
Age: 26
Mate: Ronald Weasley
Current Location: London, England
Number of Sexual Encounter(s): 1
Name(s) of Partner(s): Smith Michael 1(M)
Age(s) of Partner(s): 30
Species of Partner(s): wizard
Description of Sexual Encounter(s): I do not wish to think about it. I care deeply for Smith, but I can no longer think about having sex with anyone but my mate.
Was non-Veela magic used during the encounter(s)?: No
If so, what spell or potion was used and what were its affects?:
Did any encounter result in pregnancy?:
Was Veela Power used in any manner not involved in finding a mate?: No
If so, how and why?:
Comments: How could I have ever thought Justin was my mate? My devotion to Ron is on an entirely different level. It's nearly overwhelming. I have moments where I can't breathe for the pain of not having him near me. How am I ever going to survive if he continues to refuse me?
/
Ron felt more normal now that he was back in Egypt. It was strange to consider. When he had first come to Egypt, he had felt like a foreigner and had missed home so much that it made him depressed some times, but now after so many years, it was home. After the debacle with Malfoy at Charlie's birthday do and all the guilt and indecision he had been feeling since, coming home to Egypt was even more comforting than normal. Here he could breathe, and he didn't have to think about his family or Malfoy or what it might mean to be a veela's mate. Or at least, that was what he had hoped would happen until the package arrived the day after his return just as he was coming back from work.
A large British Ministry owl was perched next to his barn owl, Lysander, when he arrived home. As soon as he walked in the door, the owl flew to him and deposited a thick roll of scrolls into his hands. He untied the scroll to find a Ministry-issue letter atop what looked to be over a hundred forms, filled out in a tall, elegant hand. Ron sat down to read and possibly understand what this was all about.
Ernest MacMillan
Ministry of Magic
Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures
Level 4
Dear Ronald Weasley,
The Ministry of Magic wishes first and foremost to congratulate you on the discovery of your mating to Draco Malfoy. To be a veela's mate is a great honor. It has come to the Ministry's attention via Mr. Malfoy himself that it is possible that you do not understand the extent of this gift, and it is by his request that a copy of all records regarding Mr. Malfoy be forwarded to you along with information that you will need to know. Enclosed are copies of the form Mr. Malfoy has been required to file with the Ministry since 2001. Mr. Malfoy has requested that you read them so as to make a more informed decision.
Along with these forms, it is the duty of the Ministry to inform you of the legal issues that accompany becoming the mate of a veela. You are required to register with the Ministry of Registration and Control of Magical Creatures as Mr. Malfoy's mate. This requirement is in place regardless of whether or not you choose to remain with Mr. Malfoy. The necessary forms are included in the enclosed paperwork. Please return the completed forms to the Ministry within three business days.
If you decide to bond with Mr. Malfoy, the Ministry will need to be informed once the blood bond has been completed. I would normally leave this in Mr. Malfoy's hands, but as he has a tendency to 'forget' certain rules he dislikes, I think it best to leave this to you.
If you have any further questions, please do not hesitate to ask by return owl.
Thank you and good day,
Ernest MacMillan
Head of Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures
Ministry of Magic
E.M.
Under a ward only deactivated by Ron's touch was a post script.
PS- Are you insane? Bloody fuck, he's a fucking veela, Ron. He's gorgeous and a phenomenal lover, not to mention that he's anticipated you for so long he's going to worship you for at least six months, only to dull down to a devotion and love for you for the rest of his life. Sodding shag him already before he cries himself into a state like his mother and I have to deal with him.
Ron raised an eyebrow at this. He didn't think he had ever known Ernie to swear, at least not since he nearly missed his Arithmancy NEWT exam because he was too busy studying for it. With this in mind, he turned to the forms. In the first he was surprised to see that Draco had been with Ernie himself. That must have been how Ernie knew Draco was a fantastic shag. Ron liked that Draco was rather sarcastic and biting in his dislike of having to be monitored. Reading about Justin was interesting. Ron had told himself that perhaps Draco hadn't really been in love with him, and that was how it was so easy for him to cheat, but the forms told a different story. Since then, the forms were more subdued. He had been steady with this Smith bloke; it was clear he loved him, but also that Smith wasn't Draco's mate. When questions started popping up-Is this normal? What's wrong with me? Is there any way to dull this ache? I'm tired of waking discontent. Will he ever show himself? Am I dysfunctional? This hurts; why can't I find him?-Ron became uneasy. Draco physically hurt without him. He had not expected that. It made his decision even harder.
He sighed in frustration, rubbing his palms over his eyes to soothe the strain. He let the forms fall to the ground, weary of all the reading. Had he made the right decision by denying Draco or was he just stalling the inevitable?
/
"Potter, my mother and I owe the man our lives. Please let me do this. It's the only thing that will keep me sane and relatively healthy until Ron decides not to be with that… person anymore."
Harry sighed and rubbed his nose as he thought. After a long moment, he nodded. "Fine, you can have him, but I will be making weekly visits to make sure you're keeping your promise. He has to be monitored twenty-four hours a day, do you hear me?"
Draco beamed at him, setting his heart a flutter and catching the waiter mid-step, causing him to drop a tray of dirty dishes near their table. "Thank you. I'll take care of him. He won't have a wand and the wards will ensure he doesn't leave, I promise." His eyes went a little glassy then and darted to the door. Harry looked over to see Ron standing, waiting to be seated. He saw them and his eyes grew wide in surprise and possibly scorn. He didn't even wait for the hostess to seat him before heading over to their table.
"Harry, what are you doing here with Malfoy?"
"Draco invited me to lunch. What are you doing here?"
"Meeting Hermione and Nigel. She said she tried to contact you."
There was an awkward silence after Ron spoke, Ron looking uncomfortable because Draco would not stop looking at him as though he wanted to devour him. The blond broke the silence. "You look wonderful, Ron. I hope you're doing well."
"I'm fine," Ron retorted rather tersely. Draco was still staring at him with that slightly drunken eye.
"Did you receive the forms I had MacMillan send to you?"
"Yeah, I sent back the ones I had to."
"I don't suppose you've reconsidered, then?" His hand slid into Ron's, causing that tingling warmth to spread through them both again. Ron coughed awkwardly and pulled away, tucking his hands in his pockets. Draco looked visibly wounded.
Harry gave Ron a chastising look fit for Hermione. "Ron…" But he was cut off by the blond, who shook away the pained look and hid it behind a mask of cool indifference.
"Nevermind, Harry. He has already made his decision against me. Let's not keep him from his lunch date; I believe I see Mr. and Mrs. Griffith at the door now." They both looked over and there stood Hermione, shaking the rain droplets from her hair. Nigel stood behind her, spelling their umbrella dry with a flick of his wand. Ron murmured a farewell and, with a hasty glance at Draco that might have been regret, went to join them.
"He'll come around, don't worry. He's just being stubborn." Harry's eyes drifted back to Draco. The blond sat stiff in his chair, back straight, fingers clenched on the edge of the table, jaw set. Harry recognized the restrained pain in his face and the strength it took to stay in his seat and not fall to pieces. He had felt that same strain when Sirius had died, and then again with Ginny. It was pain beyond comprehension, and there was nothing Harry could do for him. Except there was.
"I'll get the paperwork started for Snape on Monday."
Draco's eyes shifted from his untouched salad to Harry, a faint glimmer of hope just sparking. "Thank you." His voice was raspy, as though he were fighting tears, though Harry saw no evidence of them on his face.
"I'm serious about the conditions. I'm going to check in every week. All of your promised stipulations will have to be in place. No wand, there need to be anti-Apparition wards around the Manor, he'll be making potions for St. Mungo's. And there will be a probationary period of six months. If anything-and I mean anything-goes wrong, he goes straight back. No second chances."
"Of course. We will make sure that every precaution is set in place. Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me." Draco took his hand across the table, his own fingers trembling.
Harry squeezed them reassuringly. "I know what you're going through. I threw myself into work when Ginny died. If I hadn't had work to distract me, I don't think I would have made it. I know Ron isn't dead, but I see the same pain in you, like you're under a mild Cruciatus all the time, right?"
Draco looked at him as though he were a new species. "Yes, that's it exactly."
"It'll get better. You're half-way there just managing to get out of bed and out of the house."
Draco snorted, some of the tension leaving him until his eyes darted back to where Ron sat with Hermione and Nigel. Harry glanced over and caught Ron's eyes flashing to them, too. Ron was being stubborn, but Harry knew he wouldn't last. Franck was great and all, and Harry knew they loved each other, but Harry didn't think Ron would be able to resist Draco for very long. The blond had a way of getting what he wanted, even if he didn't seem to be using his veela allure this time. "I'm doing it for him," Draco confessed, shaking Harry from his thoughts. "I didn't get out of bed for a week after I left your place. I don't think I even thanked you for helping me. I… I know we don't always see eye-to-eye, but I… I appreciate what you've done for me, Potter. You're a better friend than I ever gave you credit for."
Harry stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. This might have been the most sincere and serious Harry had ever seen Draco, outside of the incident on the Tower so many years ago. He smiled to break the mood, uncomfortable with the earnestness of Draco's stare. Draco smiled in return, though it was small and didn't make it all the way to his eyes. They darted once more to Ron, then back to Harry. "I'm glad we've got over our differences, too, Draco. You're a good man, and I'm going to do everything in my power to convince Ron to be with you."
"Thank you."
The rest of the meal consisted of thrashing out the details of Snape's release. Draco's attention wasn't fully on Harry, Harry could tell. He spent far too much of the rest of their meal keeping track of Ron's movements from across the room, but Harry couldn't fault him. He was distracted himself, trying to grapple with the knowledge that he was releasing the man he hated most in this world into the comfort and care of trusted friends. Harry still wasn't sure Snape deserved it, but he knew that Draco and Narcissa needed Snape enough to let the former pass.
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Thank you to wwmrsweasleydo! You are awesome and I worship you!
And to everyone else, please don't hate me. ::ducks flying tomatoes::