Warning(s): Angst. Made up Veela things along with new wings and dorms created at Hogwarts. Very much EWE.

Disclaimer: This piece of art or fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offence is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.

Authors Notes: All my thanks to aj_socks for the beta. All the remaining mistakes are mine. I have never written a Veela fic before, and I'm not the most equipped with Eighth year fics, so I hope the readers and prompters enjoy the story!

The Right Fit

The Hogwarts Express on the first of September was overly crowded.

First, the supposed "Eighth Years" were returning to finish off the last of their studies—those that had decided to return anyway, and second, it was hot beyond belief.

"It's just you, Draco," Pansy continued to tell him while he complained every few minutes about how he felt like he was going to die.

"I can't believe you're not burning up."

What was worse was that he could feel someone or something on the train that he couldn't identify... He was sure that whoever it was, was a few cars away from him but he could smell them. Hear their heart beating. The feeling was almost distracting him from being able to think about anything else. The train was jam-packed and it didn't help that this was making his anxiety even worse. He couldn't go anywhere without bumping into people. He'd finally settled down on his seat hoping that the anxiousness would simply go away.

"You know I hear Potter came into his Veela inheritance too," Blaise commented, casually. "Maybe you can just tell when another one of you is around. Maybe you're sensing Potter."

Draco scowled at Blaise. "Where did you hear that?"

"It was in the Prophet."

Draco rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat. The Prophet, he scoffed. Whoever it was, Draco wondered if they would easily give in to him. He was the dominant one in his inheritance, obviously. He had to be.

0-0-0-0

When the train arrived at Hogsmeade village, the students rushed to get out of the train. The Eighth years were instructed to stay back. McGonagall wanted the other students to settle in first because she had different plans for the Eighth year students.

Draco groaned with frustration. He just wanted to get the ordeal of settling in over with. He wanted to rest in a proper bed. He hadn't been able to get a good night's sleep all summer and looked forward to his only refuge. Hogwarts. The presence of the Dark Lord in the Manor had been too much. His nightmares had made it nearly impossible for him to get a decent night's sleep. He only hoped that his nights away from home would be more effective.

After what felt like a lifetime of formalities, speeches from the professors, the feast, and the room assignments (since the Eighth years were all lumped together), Draco was glad to be heading to his room.

A new wing had been built with extra dormitories for the returning students. McGonagall had explained that all the rooms would eventually get transformed into classrooms in the next year. For the moment, the first floor was going to hold all the Muggle studies classes, and the subsequent floors were going to be dorm rooms.

Feeling strange that he wasn't heading off to the Slytherin dungeons, Draco walked with Blaise towards the new wing. It was simply called the Albus Dumbledore wing. Draco's stomach turned with guilt, but he tried his best to suppress it.

When they arrived to the rooms, the set up wasn't too far from what Draco was used to. Four beds set up in each corner, with a study table in the middle. He wasn't aware of who he and Blaise would be sharing the room with, and since they were the first ones to arrive, they both elected the beds closest to each other and near the window.

Shortly after, a rumble of laughter was blaring on the other side of the doors and in a moment notice, several students, Gryffindors mostly, came barging in. There were only two beds in the room, so why were there over five boys standing at the doorway.

"It's true," Dean Thomas said, and Draco looked at him in confusion. It wasn't ideal to share a room with him, but Draco had no real reason to be against it. Besides you know, him being locked up in the cellar at the Manor, there was that minor technicality.

"It really is Zabini and Malfoy," Seamus Finnigan said. "Good grief. Glad I'm not in this room!"

"The sentiments aren't that far from my own," Blaise said, and looked at Draco, who smiled at him with regard.

"Well who is it then?" Draco asked, impatient. Whoever it was—it was just easier to get it over with then, as opposed to having half a dozen gawking seventeen year old boys staring at him in his pyjamas. Ever since Draco had come into his Veela inheritance, his body had changed. He was told that his skin was more "shiny," for lack of a better word and Draco just hated all the attention he'd get for it.

The blokes that stood at the doorway moved and it seemed none one of them were sharing the room, evidently they were only there for the show. When they moved, Draco saw the impossibly hard to miss ginger hair, accompanied with the other unbearable site of messy black hair and awkward glasses.

"Of course," Blaise said, before Draco had the chance to think it.

Of course, Draco and Blaise were rooming with Weasley and Potter.

The Veela life force inside Draco was thrown into a disarray. It had calmed down for a while but the moment Potter stepped into the room, the feeling that Draco had when he was on the Hogwarts Express only heightened. The room was too small, his clothes felt too tight and Draco thought he was going to explode from all the tension.

If Potter was a Veela, Draco could recognise it. He was doing his best to keep his calm, but one look from Blaise told him that he didn't appear calm at all. He couldn't believe that Potter was a Veela, because he didn't look like he was perishing. How was he able to keep it so calm?

"Well this is..." Potter paused.

"Unfortunate," Weasley added, and Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Well, it isn't exactly a party for us, either," Blaise replied. "Unfortunately the only other Slytherin students that returned are girls so—"

"Yeah, I'd rather room with them as well," Weasley said, and Potter snorted.

Draco was having a hard time taking his eyes off Potter, but Potter, for the most part, hadn't looked at Draco at all. So, maybe...he did feel it too. And he wasn't looking at Draco as a means to calm himself.

Oh, Draco thought to himself. This could be interesting. If Potter was a Veela, and he could feel a pull towards Draco, then it wouldn't be so bad after all. Draco could use that to his advantage. He'd get Potter to give into him, and would have been able to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. He'd have the advantage of having a better reputation by being associated to the Saviour of the Wizarding World,and he could get Potter to his bidding. He could get Potter to do anything.

As the night began to wind down, Draco was finally in bed. He sighed with relief, looking forward to a good night's sleep. Though, having Potter in the same room wasn't helping. His body was too hot, and the moment the lights in the room dimmed, Draco pushed the covers off him. He turned to his left and saw Potter fidgeting around in his bed as well. Potter too had removed his shirt and threw it on the floor. He was tossing and turning as though struggling in his dream, and Draco couldn't tear his gaze away.

Unable to keep his eyes off Potter, Draco bit his lip and slid his hands down into his trousers. If he wasn't going to sleep, the least he could do was give himself some relief. His cock had been achingly hard since the idea of making Potter his mate had entered Draco's mind. He flicked his wand to place a Silencing Charm around his bed and started to stroke himself.

He watched with the help of the little moonlight in the room that was enough for him to make out Potter's shape. His gaze started from Potter's shoulders, and dropped down following the muscles on his back down to his arse that was outlined clearly in the tight pyjama bottoms Potter wore. He too had thrown off the covers.

Draco tugged on his cock harder, biting and licking his lips, wondering if Potter would be willing to suck his cock. He groaned at the thought of it. Of course, he'd be willing to suck his cock, Draco was going to be the dominant one, anyway.

Draco didn't even know if Potter was gay, but with Veelas, it didn't matter, really. Once the dominant one staked his or her claim on another, they would have to give in. And, Potter was going to give in. Draco was sure of it.

Draco buried his face in his pillow as he was on the brink of his orgasm. The idea of making Potter give in was too much. His heart raced, and the fire inside his stomach roared. Moments later, he was coming all over his hand and in his trousers. He turned on his back and finished off. Praying that the Silencing Charm was functioning, he moaned louder. It had been a while since he'd really finished with such satisfaction and as he finished off, he was panting, feeling satiated. He grabbed his wand again and quickly cleaned himself.

Finally turning his gaze towards Potter again, Draco panicked. Potter was awake, and he was watching him. Draco's eyes widened but he didn't react otherwise. Staying very still, he glanced back at Potter, whose hand was in his own trousers and he was wanking.

Draco continued to watch as Potter didn't take his eyes off him and when he was coming, he closed his eyes and his body arched up. Draco forced himself to look away. He grabbed the covers again and concealed himself under them. He wasn't going to look like the needy one. Even though, all Draco wanted was to go over to Potter's bed and...do something!

He exhaled, trying to release the rest of his frustration and closed his eyes, hoping sleep would take over him eventually. And it did. For the first time in months, Draco slept peacefully, and didn't have nightmares waking him up in the middle of the night.

0-0-0-0

When Draco woke up the next morning, he found the room to be empty and a note from Blaise was hanging by the head of the bed.

D, you looked rather peaceful so I decided against waking you up. I know you said you've been having trouble sleeping so I hope it was the right decision. I'm meeting Pansy for breakfast, feel free to join us whenever you can. ~Blaise.

Draco was both glad and annoyed that Blaise hadn't woken him up. He was feeling rather refreshed, but he was irritated at the thought that he'd be late to breakfast. Quickly jumping off the bed, Draco headed for the showers and was ready and in the Great Hall in twenty minutes.

When he arrived, he saw Blaise sitting in between Pansy and Millicent.

"What's the matter with you?" Blaise asked, nearly gawking at him. "You look pale...more than usual."

Draco shrugged and started to spread butter on his toast. He wasn't about to announce his troubles to the entire table. It was rather odd that even though they'd been separated into a different "house," the Eighth years sat at the tables of their original Houses.

"How'd you sleep?" Blaise asked.

"Better," Draco said, smiling. He was feeling better.

"Draco..." Pansy whispered to him from across the table and he looked at her confused. "Do you think—"

Draco didn't understand why she was hesitating. "What is it, Pansy? Just spit it out."

"Why do you think Potter is glaring at you like that?"

Draco's eyes immediately widened and he stiffened up. "Glaring how?" He scowled.

"I don't know. He's going to a burn a hole in your back with the way he's looking at us. At first, I thought it was me. You know, for what I did. I've been meaning to apologise to him...but now I just noticed, it's you. He's looking at you."

"How can he look at me? My back is facing him," Draco said, struggling to sound nonchalant.

"I don't know. How is it sharing a room with him?"

Draco shrugged. "We only spent a short time in each other's company. I went off to bed and—"

"And what?"

"And nothing."

"Do you think I should talk to him?" Pansy asked, adjusting her robes, as though she were about to stand up.

"Talk about what?" Draco snapped again. Why was Pansy getting on his nerves so much?

"About my apology," she answered, annoyed. "Were you even listening?"

Draco groaned and pushed his plate away. "I was listening and I don't care what you do. I'll see you lot later." Draco stood up from the table and walked away. He slowed down just a bit as he walked past the Gryffindor table. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that Potter's gaze was on him the entire time, and his head turned following him. Draco smiled and picked up the pace. Commanding Potter was going to be easy.

0-0-0-0

As Draco made his way back to the Dumbledore wing, he came across a handful of Seventh year students that he didn't recognise.

"Traitor," a boy mumbled and his friends laughed.

Draco shook his head and continued walking. "Idiots," he said under his breath.

"What?" someone else called out. "Hey, Death Eater scum..."

Draco slowed his steps, wondering if he should turn and face the supposed tormentors but decided against it. He continued walking.

"That's right. You're too scared, fucking—"

"That's enough," another voice called out. Draco stopped but didn't turn right away. It didn't sound like a professor. He wondered if it was some House Prefect. "Don't you have anything better to do?" Shite. Draco recognised the voice. It was Potter.

"I can take care of myself, Potter," Draco announced, turning to face the group of students.

Potter looked at the Seventh years and folded his arms. "Get out of here before I report you." The students scurried off and Potter looked at Draco.

"Before I report you?" Draco scoffed. "That's the threat from the almighty Saviour?"

"They're a bunch of wankers, not exactly Voldemort material."

Draco shuddered at the name.

"Sorry," Potter said, probably having noticed Draco's reaction.

"Like I said, I can take care of myself." Draco didn't wait for a response and continued to walk towards his room. He knew Potter was right behind him. Bloody Potter, it was becoming evident that Draco was always going to sense his presence.

The moment Draco arrived in the room, he'd wished that their "House" had a Common Room. The Eighth years weren't provided with one, and that was why all the rooms had their own little study area in their bedroom. He wished that he could have just slouched on a sofa in the corner somewhere as opposed to just be in his room; always surrounded by people.

"Malfoy, listen..." Potter placed a hand on Draco's shoulder and Draco's instincts immediately kicked in. He grabbed Potter's wrist and twisted his arm, pushing him against the wall.

A moment later, Draco had Potter pinned under him, and his combative instincts had been taken over by his Veela. Draco pushed into Potter, hard, his erection pressing against Potter's thigh. He had no idea when it turned from rage to lust, but it had, and Potter's expression had changed too.

Potter pushed Draco back, urging him in reverse towards the beds. He didn't stop until the back of Draco's legs hit the edge of his bed and then Draco tried to shove Potter off. Potter didn't let his grip go from Draco's collar and they both crashed on Draco's bed.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked, while Potter pressed down on him, grinding their erections together.

"Isn't this what you want?" Potter asked, nuzzling into Draco's neck as he secured Draco's hands above him, holding them down tight.

"No!" Draco pushed back. He freed his hands and grabbed Potter's waist. He lifted Potter off him, and all but carried Potter onto his bed. He spread Potter's legs and pressed his erection on Potter's arse; Potter grabbed his arms and stared at him wide-eyes. "This," Draco said, "I want this." He thrust in, his hard cock wishing to be freed, his Veela instincts screaming inside him.

"I'm afraid that won't work," Potter said and twisted Draco's arms behind him. Even though Draco was able to carry him off easily before, Potter wasn't as fragile as he seemed. A moment later, Draco was on his back again. "Mine, Malfoy. Mine."

Draco groaned. This wasn't working out the way he'd hoped. He was the dominant one, not Potter. Draco struggled to free his arms again and as Potter realised his resistance to give in, he loosened his grip.

"It seems this won't work at all," Draco said, getting off the bed and walking away.

"Mal—"

"Sorry, Potter. Not interested."

Draco's stomach turned the moment he left the room and closed the door behind him. His instincts, his need, was cursing him. He washard, and it really felt like he was going to die if he didn't give in to his Veela's demands. But, there was no way he was going to let Potter, of all people, dominate him like that. He'd just have to find a new mate to settle for, that's it. How hard could it have been?

Veelas didn't have to mate with another Veela, and Draco should have known that his luck would never allow it. Two Veelas in a relationship was something that was considered eternal bliss...and he? Of course, eternal bliss wasn't written in his future. Besides, he only sensed Potter because of his Veela, not that Potter was supposed to be his mate. Once a Veela had chosen a mate and bonded with him or her, then all other desires and yearnings would disappear. All Draco had to do was find another suitable mate. It was clear, things were not going to work out with Potter.

0-0-0-0

"It's only been a day and you're giving up so easily," Pansy said to him over dinner, when Draco had shared his concern with her. "We've only been back for a two days, and you're already giving it up?"

It was clear to Draco that Pansy wanted it for her own personal gain. If Potter and Draco would be mated, then Potter would have to accept her, her apology. And perhaps, she'd stop badgering him about her want of status. You can take a girl out of Slytherin, but you can't take the Slytherin out of a girl. Draco chuckled to himself.

"I'm sorry that my decision of leading my life in a certain way is really going to be an inconvenience for you," Draco said, shaking his head.

"It's not about that—"

"Right," Draco said. "I'll just find someone else to satiate my need," he added, standing up and walking away. It wasn't going to be so bad, not really. He was sure that there was someone who'd give into his Veela charm if he really tried to seduce a person, anyway. If only he could stop thinking about Potter every free second he had; it really wasn't helping.

That night, Draco took his time in the showers. He was going to satisfy his need there and not in his bed. He didn't even want to look at Potter. Bloody wanker. Who did he think he was?

Draco closed his eyes as he stroked himself gently. He turned around to have the hot water pour on his back and grabbed the soap to lather his cock in lieu of lube. Draco moaned slightly; he bit his lower lip and tried to imagine his perfect mate. The image that popped in his mind was of a man. He thought of a Quidditch player he once had a crush on and the image of tight muscles with fitted leather trousers sprang in his mind. He tugged on his cock harsher, thinking of: defined jaw line, and the man on his knees, sucking Draco.

Draco sped up his hand movement as he imagined the man sucking him, swirling his tongue around his cock. He was so close, and Draco wondered what the other man would look like once he looked up at him and suddenly a flash of green eyes popped in Draco's head. Draco spilled all over his hands, and immediately snapped his eyes open. He couldn't believe it. He'd just come thinking about Potter. Again.

Shite. Bloody Potter. "I can't even—" Draco grumbled, washing himself off and thought best just to ignore the situation. It didn't mean anything. It was a one-time thing, and of course, everything was going to be okay when Draco decided to mate with someone else.

0-0-0-0

"So you're definitely gay," Blaise asked him over breakfast the next day.

"Well, I don't like to define myself. I've dated women—"

"But you imagined your mate being a bloke," Blaise added, interrupting Draco, and took a bite of his toast.

"Yes," Draco said, there was no point in arguing with anyone about it. He'd shagged women in his Sixth year, Pansy being one of them, but the fit never really seemed to fit. He shrugged, and continued eating his breakfast. "I suppose, I'm gay."

"Why don't you just ask Potter if you can be the dominant one?" Pansy asked, being her unhelpful self as always.

"It doesn't work like that," Draco answered, growing more frustrated with each comment.

"Sorry, mate. But, I don't think you know how it works," Blaise said.

"I am not going to ask Potter anything. I had a momentary lapse in judgement and thought that I could mate with him...but clearly...that was a bad idea."

"You should try again," Pansy said, shrugging and looking over at the Gryffindor table.

"What?" Draco snapped.

"Try to dominate him again," she said. "Maybe he needed a twenty-four hour period to think it over, and maybe he'll give in this time?"

That wasn't that bad of an idea, actually. Draco nodded and returned his attention to his breakfast; he had Slughorn's Advanced Potions class to think about, along with Transfiguration. Those were the only two classes he wasn't sharing with Potter, and the two classes he'd had that day, and he hoped that he could spend his entire day without running into him.

0-0-0-0

After Transfiguration, which he shared with most Seventh years, Draco headed to his room. He wanted to take a nap before heading off to lunch. He turned the corner towards the Dumbledore wing when he ran into someone, and was immediately pushed into the floor.

Draco let out an exasperated sigh, praying it was not Potter that he'd just collided with. He'd felt a weird sort of heat even though he'd only touched the other person for half a second. He wondered if it was a Veela thing. Draco was still looking down, trying to gather his books and straighten his robes when the other person offered their hand to Draco.

Eventually looking up, Draco was relieved to find that the other person was not Potter.

"Sorry about that, I didn't see you coming and I was running—"

Draco grabbed the bloke's hand and he helped Draco up. His touch had Draco feel an odd sort of electric current run through his body. "That's okay," Draco said, immediately retrieving his hand away from the other man.

"You're a Veela?" the bloke asked, and Draco raised an eyebrow. "I'm Jacob Smith, I'm new in Hogwarts. Seventh year."

Draco wasn't sure why the bloke was offering his information so freely to him. "Smith?"

"You know Zacharias? That's my cousin. I lived in Romania for a while and was at Durmstrang, but when I came into my Veela inheritance—let's just say, I was highly sought after."

"Why?"

"Veelas are rare creatures, and I'm sure as you may know...once we mate with someone, it's for life." Draco nodded, still confused by the man's point. "So, once it was discovered that I was a Veela, I had people following me desperately trying to mate with me. They thought that they'd be set for life—"

"Because Veelas always protect their mates, and think of them before they think of themselves—"

"Exactly. And add that to my family wealth—"

"You'd be the perfect package," Draco said, almost dryly.

"Now you see my dilemma. It was one thing to be gay, and another to be a gay Veela. I don't exactly want someone to protect. I sort of like—you know—" Jacob blushed, looking down at his hands.

"You want someone to take care of you. You don't want to be dominant..."

"Hey, Jake...where have you been?" someone from around the corner called and Jacob quickly ran towards the hallway.

"Oh, I'm coming!" Jacob turned to look at Draco and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It was nice to meet you. I'll see you around, maybe!" And before Draco could say anything, Jacob Smith, Veela, aspiring sub, was gone.

"Did I just dream that?" Draco picked up his bag and place it over his shoulder.

"Malfoy!"

Draco looked up towards the staircase that lead to his dorm room and saw Potter standing there, glaring at him. How long had he been there? Did he see Draco and Jacob interact?

"Who was that?" Potter asked, as Draco brushed past Potter, ignoring him, and started to walk up the stairs. When he reached his room and pushed the door open, Potter pulled him back on his shoulder. "Who was that?"

"Evidently, my future mate," sneered Draco. He tried to ignore the heat he felt emanating from Potter's hand onto his shoulder, even though it was above his robes. Feeling the touch of another Veela was something else. Feeling Potter's touch—Draco didn't want to think about it.

"Like fuck he is," Potter said and closed the doors behind him and all but shoved Draco against them.

"Potter—" Draco tried to fight back but he didn't know how or when had Potter managed to place his hands under Draco's trousers and had started biting Draco's neck. "More..." Draco caught himself uttering. "No!"

It was too late...Potter had pushed Draco's trousers down, along with his own, and was gliding their erections together. "Mine!" Potter said. He bit and kissed Draco's neck until he'd reached Draco's mouth and shoved his tongue in.

Draco moaned into Potter's mouth; he'd hoped that it was frustration, but it really wasn't. He was so incredibly turned on.

Potter pulled back, and stepped out of his trousers completely. Draco's gaze fell on Potter's cock while he was removing his shirt. "On the bed," Potter said, grabbing his clothes and bundling them up.

"No!" Draco fought back, unable to take his eyes off Potter's bouncing cock.

"Malfoy. On. The. Bed." Potter pulled Draco away from the door and locked them. He turned to glare at him again.

"Yours or mine?" Draco found himself asking, picking his trousers up and folding them neatly.

"Do you want to suck my cock, or do you want me to fuck you into the mattress?"

Draco stumbled a bit and his eyes grew wide. He was alone in the room with a stark naked Potter and he'd realised that the man from his fantasy, from the night before in the shower, looked exactly liked Potter. "Erm..." Draco's heart was beating a thousand times per second and his cock twitched with interest. Bloody traitor. "The second one..." he whispered.

Potter smirked, and took a step towards Draco. Draco immediately stepped back. "I won't hurt you," Potter whispered. He looked slightly hurt by Draco's retreat. He took another step, and this time Draco didn't move. He grabbed Draco's wrist, and rubbed Draco's hand on his own cheek. "You feel so warm," he said, kissing Draco's hand.

"My bed," Draco offered. "Fuck me, on my bed."

What was Draco doing? He allowed Potter to lead him to his bed, and struggled to not think about his decision. He was going to let Potter fuck him? That was not the plan. The plan was to be the dominant one...but Potter was more dominant and rather more insistent that Draco had thought for him to be. He thought about Jacob, the bloke he'd just met ten minutes ago, and how he wanted someone to dominate him. Why didn't Draco just reject Potter and go after Jacob, then?

"Mine," Potter whispered, removing Draco's robes. He pushed Draco back on the bed and left a trail of kisses starting from his neck down to his navel. Draco whimpered under Potter's touch and now was somewhat aware to why he hadn't gone running after Jacob and was allowing himself to be taken by Potter. He wanted Potter. No one could really ever compare, could they?

"I have class..." Draco struggled again. He was still tussling with the idea of giving in.

"Don't lie," Potter said, looking up at Draco, and pressing his shoulders down.

Draco wouldn't put it past Potter to know his class schedule since the man practically shadowed him in Sixth year. "I—"

Potter spread Draco's legs and summoned something from his side of the room. Draco saw a small tube of what he thought was lube and watched as Potter opened it squirted some on his hand.

Draco looked intently at Potter's hands. They hadn't moved since he'd squeezed the tube. He was waiting for his hands to touch him; he wondered what Potter was going to do next, but he was just there. Stiff.

Draco raised his gaze to meet Potter's, who simply looked at him uncertainly. "Maybe we should stop. I think—maybe I—"

"No!" Draco pleaded. Seriously, what was wrong with him? He was supposed to be aloof, not desperate! "Don't. Please don't." Potter pinched Draco's arse and he cried. "What the fuck, Potter?"

"Just checking that I wasn't dreaming. I think you just said 'Please'."

"You're supposed to pinch yourself, wanker," Draco retorted and gently kicked Potter with his left foot.

"Right," Potter teased and balanced himself on his knees before he lowered himself to face Draco; his left hand balanced him on top of Draco, and his right hand fingers, slick with lube, gently circled his entrance.

Draco arched up feeling Potter's finger trying to probe inside him and his lips met Potter's again. Soon, Draco relaxed and Potter pushed another finger in him. "Do you want me, Malfoy?" Potter whispered softly in Draco's ear, causing the back of his hairs to stand up.

Draco nodded, unable to speak. His hand pulled on Potter's hair; his limbs were struggling to bring Potter's body close to his. He wanted to feel all of Potter on top of him.

"Say it," Potter said.

"Say what?" Draco asked, nearly coming apart.

"Say that you want me."

"I already..." Draco breathed hard. "I already told you. We're fucking on my bed. I asked you...begged you not to stop!"

"I want to hear it again," Potter said.

"Are you that insecure, Potter?" Draco snapped. "I thought you were the assertive one—"

Potter pulled his fingers out of Draco and he whined immediately. "What are you—" Draco rose up to see what Potter was doing.

"Say. It." Potter spread Draco's legs apart more and slightly raised him. It looked like he was getting ready to push himself inside Draco. Draco reckoned that he better play along if he didn't want Potter to hurt him. Even though he had said that he wouldn't harm Draco.

Draco slammed his head against his pillow and groaned. "Fuck..." he whispered. "I want you, Potter. Fuck me. I want to feel you..." Draco thought he'd have to struggle to not sound so annoyed, instead, without any effort, his need was genuine. His want was real.

Potter leaned in again. Both of his hands resting on each side of Draco. "And you're my mate," Potter added. Honestly, Draco thought. "You're a Veela, Malfoy. So am I. You're my mate."

"I'm your mate," Draco echoed. "I want to be."

"Do you know how hard it was that night—to watch you touch yourself—and not come over and just—" Potter moaned, pushing himself inside Draco and Draco's hole tightened around Potter's prick.

Draco's hand immediately grabbed Potter's arse and tried to push him in more. Suddenly, feeling Potter's cock in him was the most amazing thing Draco had ever felt. He wanted more of it. Deep, deep inside him.

Potter grabbed Draco's hips, lifting him up, and Draco wrapped his legs around Potter's waist. Potter pulled out and pushed in a few times, moaning incoherent words trying to tell Draco how it felt.

For Draco, it hurt. A lot. But, it also fit. This was one of the best shags he'd had and he was still in the middle of it. How in the world could he have ever thought that he could be the dominating one in the bedroom? Maybe he could convince Potter to switch sometimes. He loved feeling Potter's prick inside him. He loved the magic surrounding them, the magic inside him. He was on the brink of his orgasm; the heat in his stomach rose to his chest, then settled, and rose again.

"Potter!" Draco nearly screamed, his hands grasping Potter's shoulders and he propped himself up to kiss Potter again. Potter leaned in and bit Draco's lower lip. Draco crashed back on the bed and it wasn't long until Potter was coming inside him. He grabbed Draco's cock and started to stroke it, still spilling into Draco, it was as though he was determined to make Draco come with him.

As Draco was coming, Potter pulled out of him and collided their bodies together again. Draco spilled in between them; Potter continued to tug on Draco's cock.

"So good," Potter mumbled, sliding off of Draco and snuggled himself on Draco's side; one of his legs still braced over Draco. Draco shifted a bit, wondering if he could reach his robes and grab his wand. Potter lifted his head to see what Draco was doing and must have understood. "Wait," he said to Draco and managed to spell them clean with wandless magic.

Draco looked at Potter with one eyebrow raised, and Potter shrugged. He nuzzled back into Draco's neck and motioned his hand to cover them with the blanket that was on the other side of the bed. "Show off," Draco mumbled and felt Potter smile against his skin.

0-0-0-0

It took about ten loud knocks and several shouts before Draco realised that there were people on the other side of the door trying to barge in. Before he had a chance to grab his clothes, one of his dorm mates had managed to Alohomora the door open.

"No, wait..." Draco said, but it was too late. Blaise stormed in along with Weasley, and Finnigan and Thomas weren't too far behind.

"What? No!" Weasley shrieked at the same time as Blaise uttered, "For Merlin's sake!"

"Potter," Draco nudged Potter to wake up, who was still sprawled all over him. Potter hummed, but didn't move.

"Harry!" Weasley yelled.

"What?" Potter immediately got up off the bed, the duvet sliding off him and Draco revealing their top naked halves. Potter groaned and Draco was only more embarrassed by the display of what had clearly happened between them. "Ron, I told you not to scream like that unless it's a real emergency."

"This is a real emergency!" Weasley shouted. "You're naked. In bed with Malfoy."

"I know," Potter answered, calmly. "I told you that I thought I'd found my mate."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd jump in bed with the filth..." Weasley stopped talking, and Draco for a moment thought that Potter had also wandlessly managed to shut him up. But it was just his glare. "Sorry, mate. I mean—" He grumbled and turned to leave the room, dragging Finnigan and Thomas with him.

"You didn't come down for lunch, Draco, and neither did Potter. We were sent looking for you, to make sure you hadn't murdered each other," Blaise said; he hadn't stopped smirking since he'd come in the room.

"No, not killed each other." Draco felt Potter reach for his hand to squeeze it.

"Oh!" Blaise said, turning towards his bed and throwing his bag on the bed. "I met another Veela kid in the Great Hall. He's from Romania. Jacob, I think. I thought maybe you felt his presence on the Hogwarts Express. You think?"

Potter whinged and laid back on Draco's bed, and Draco couldn't help but chuckle just a bit. Potter was ridiculously possessive and jealous. He might have almost found it endearing. Almost.

"No, I don't think it was him," Draco answered. "Besides, I don't think he's really my type." Draco reached for his robes and put them on, getting up off the bed and started searching for his trousers.

Potter whined immediately, although it was faint, and placed his hand on the empty side of the bed where Draco had just been.

"Why not?" Blaise inquired, apparently oblivious to Potter's wailing. "He's such a jittery little thing. I thought he'd be the perfect mate—"

"Draco is my mate," Potter snarled, getting out of bed and grabbing his wand. In a moment's notice, he was by Blaise's side, his wand pressed onto his throat, and he was still naked.

"Potter!" Draco ran after him and tried to push him off Blaise. "Don't do anything crazy," he said. "Blaise is just trying to look out for me..."

"It's not his job anymore."

"Why don't you go and put some clothes on before your friends come back in the room and—"

"Oh," Potter said, glancing down at his naked self. "Right, then." He turned and walked away towards Draco's bed to grab his clothes, and Draco watched him. His shoulder blades were perfectly aligned and his gaze fell down to Potter's arse and Draco bit his lower lip.

"I know you're gawking at me, Malfoy," Potter said, without turning, and he bent down to pick up his shirt.

"Right," Draco said, shaking his head to snap him out of it and turned to look at Blaise who was also watching Potter. "Hey." Draco snapped his fingers to get Blaise's attention. "Don't you fucking dare..." Draco stopped himself and took a step back. It seemed that he was just as possessive of Potter as Potter seemed of him.

"Wow, really?" Blaise said, his tone was more amused than critical. "I really thought you were having me on about mating with Potter."

"I don't know what happened," Draco said. "One minute, I thought it made sense for my reputation, the next, I—"

"I'm hungry," Potter announced and Draco turned to see Potter standing behind him, dressed, and with hair that was rather Potteresque. He smiled at Draco softly, and held his hand and gently tugged Draco towards him. "Do you want to go and try to scrounge some up from the kitchens?"

"Okay," Draco said, almost without hesitation.

"Draco, I thought you were going to spend the afternoon with me and Pansy," Blaise shouted.

"Maybe tomorrow," Draco answered, without turning back and allowed Potter to lead him away. "How are we going to get food?" Draco asked, finally, as they reached the staircase near the Great Hall and proceeded down the steps.

"The house-elves will have something." Potter seemed to know his way around so Draco didn't ask any more questions. When they finally entered the kitchens, the elves were all excited to see Potter and offered him plates of food. He explained to them that Draco was his mate and they made both of them sit on a table and brought all sorts of snacks and wine.

"Why do I get the feeling that this is sort of planned?" Draco asked, sipping his wine and he took a bite of the treacle tart he and Potter were sharing. Potter shrugged looking rather sheepish and Draco frowned at him. "Tell me," he commanded.

"I sort of had this set up, as a backup date."

"A back up date?" Draco was baffled. "We've only been at Hogwarts for three days."

Potter nodded. "I know. I was originally going to ask you to go with me on a date on a Hogsmeade weekend. I really didn't think things were going to escalate—"

"So you planned this?"

"Sort of. I knew I wanted you to—you know—be my mate and all. Ever since I came into my Veela inheritance, I've had nothing but dreams upon dreams. And I just had to—"

"Dreams about what?"

"About you."

Draco was genuinely surprised. "A Veela only has dreams about their mate if it's another Veela. Why didn't I ever—?"

"You probably did, and you just didn't want to admit it. I mean, I didn't want to admit that you were mine."

"You can have more than one mate."

"Yeah, but that's only when your first mate dies. Veelas are naturally drawn towards other Veelas unless they were sincerely in love with a non-Veela before they came into it."

"How do you know so much?" Draco asked, half impressed, half annoyed that Potter was more informed in the subject.

"Hermione," Potter answered, simply. Of course. "I started having these weird dreams right after the war, and I was sick for days. No Healer could help me, and finally Hermione read somewhere that I could be coming into my Veela inheritance. After everything that had happened, no one had bothered to look into my family history and it apparently can skip a generation or two and now—"

Draco nodded. "So you knew it was me. All this time?"

"Well, I've only known for four months," Potter replied. "I just needed to know how you'd react to it. I wanted you to like me, or that maybe we could have come to some sort of an arrangement. I really didn't think that this would happen within three days of being around each other. If I had then—"

"Then what?"

"Nothing," Potter said, and hid his face behind the wine glass.

"Then what, Potter?"

"I'd requested McGonagall to room me with you. I'd made up some excuse about making sure other students didn't harass you, stuff like that. Then she put both me and Ron together with you and Blaise—"

"You asked to room with me?" Draco was shocked, again. "Didn't you know what happens to Veelas when they're together and nottogether?"

"I really thought I could control myself. I didn't—"

"Realize that I couldn't control myself," Draco added. "I was the one—the first night. Then, the next day."

"Hey, I could have easily just tried not to be around you when we were alone. I'm to blame as well," Potter said. "I wanted you so much. After the first night, when I saw you." Potter sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Fuck, Malfoy. It's taking me all my willpower not to take you on this table right this second."

"And if I say no?"

Potter exhaled, almost though if he was having trouble breathing. "Then I'd probably sleep in Dean and Seamus's room to make sure I don't do anything stupid."

"Okay, let's go," Draco said, standing up from his chair and offering his hand to Potter.

"Where?"

"Back to the room," Draco said very matter-of-factly.

"But there are people—"

"Privacy charms, Potter," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "I have to teach you so much." He continued walking without turning around to check if Potter was following him. He was sure that Potter was right behind him. He could almost feel Potter's need exuding from his body.

Even if Potter was the supposed "dominant" one in the bedroom, it was obvious that Draco was the one that was going to have control of the relationship.

"Besides, I'm supposed to start studying with Blaise and Pansy in the library tomorrow, and I can't have you hang around then," Draco added.

"Right," Potter said, slipping his hand into Draco's and Draco almost instinctively squeezed it. He turned to look at Potter who was grinning like a fool in love. But that was okay, because Draco felt the same way. "I have friends too, you know," Potter said, trying to sound insistent.

Draco smiled to himself, and looked away biting his lip.

When they returned to the room, Draco was glad to have found it empty. He reckoned Weasley was still out somewhere washing his eyes and Blaise would have known better than to stick around.

Potter settled himself on Draco's bed and removed his wand.

"That's my bed, Potter."

"No, it's our bed now, Malfoy."

Draco's brows furrowed. "And what do you plan on doing with your bed?"

Potter shrugged. "I don't know. We could combine them and make one big bed." He grinned and Draco couldn't help himself as he leaned in and kissed Potter.

"Besides," Potter added, "I reckon we'll have to request a private room eventually."

"Why?"

"Because..." Potter rolled his eyes, causing Draco to scowl. "If we're going to be doing this, and we're going to be doing it a lot—I doubt Ron and Zabini are going to want to—"

Draco hummed in agreement. "You aren't as dumb as you seem, Potter." This time, it was Potter who frowned. "But McGonagall..."

"I've already talked to her about it."

"You what?" Draco couldn't believe it; Potter had thought of everything.

"I told you, Malfoy. You are mine, and—" He bit his lower lip as though suddenly he'd overcome with absolute shyness. "Now, come to bed already, or I'll have to take you against the door."

Draco contemplated Potter's words. He wouldn't mind being taken standing up, but figured they should wait on that after they got their private room. He walked up to the bed, slowly, removing his clothes one article at a time. By the time he was next to Potter, it looked like Potter was having trouble breathing.

"Right. Privacy Charms," Draco said and drew his wand. This really wouldn't be so bad after all, he thought. The heat he had felt on the Hogwarts Express, along with Potter's scent were overpowering, but he was also sure that Potter would be the right fit.

And Draco was okay with that.

FIN

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