Chapter Fifteen

7.8K 282 267
                                    

Thickly muscled and large arms clamped around Harry's waist just as he was about to launch himself at Ron, holding him tight to the warm and broad chest attached that rumbled with growls. He struggled for only a moment, panicked at suddenly being restrained, before his face was pressed into the nook of the body's neck and he was breathing in the most intoxicating, calming and peaceful scent he had ever encountered. He didn't know when his own growling had changed to purring, but all he knew was that he was melting against the body pressing against his like a missing puzzle piece; so familiar, yet so foreign, like they were uniting after many years apart.

"Breathe," a low, soothing voice whispered into his ear. A pair of soft, plump lips pressed affectionately against his temple, and one of the large hands roamed up from his back to bury themselves in his hair.

Harry was so lost in the scent and the feeling of the warm body pressed against him -obviously a male, he could tell-, that he didn't notice the narrowed grey eyes of the owner of the body searching whatever skin was visible for any noticeable marks left behind from his past. Harry snuggled deeper into the man's embrace, purring and tucking his head firmly under the tall man's chin. It was almost a sense of Déjà vu, he knew this body from somewhere, the arms were too familiar. But where?

"What the fuck is going on?!"

A deep, feral growl emanated from the firm chest that Harry was resting against, rumbling underneath his hands as he stroked the hot skin through the thin shirt soothingly. The arms tightened around him, pulling him ever more flush against the man, and another kiss was pressed on his forehead. Harry really wanted Ron to disappear, and by the murderous expressions on the Weasley clan's faces, they did too.

"Get the fuck off him!" Ron screamed. "Let him go -!"

The large leathery wings on Harry's back flared out protectively around the both of them, enveloping them both in a protective cape that shielded them from the approaching menacing redhead. Harry couldn't help but snarl against -who he now knew as- his mates skin and wrap his arms around the lean waist, taking comfort in the way his mate rubbed his head with a soft but slightly stubbled cheek. He listened to Molly tearing mercilessly into Ron, his mind comprehending but not reacting to her furious voice, or the enraged voices that added in their own two knuts. He was too focused on the man holding him.

Though he didn't know who was holding him, he wasn't afraid, how could he be when just being held by him was so perfect? They fit together like they were made for each other and though the man was clearly taller and much broader and muscled than he was, he couldn't care less that he was a lot shorter and feminine, so long as the man didn't stop holding him.

Harry registered the shocked exclamations coming from the Weasley's outside the barrier his wings had made when Ron began shouting very disgusting words, but he didn't react to their panic, nor did he want to. He was perfectly happy in the circle of this man's arms, and he made sure to let his mate know that. He cooed and made soft noises, pressing his lips gently onto the soft skin of his mates neck and rubbing his cheek wherever he could. His mate was thoroughly pleased, Harry noticed with no small amount of satisfaction, as he responded in his own displays of affection, nuzzling his forehead with his slightly chilled nose.

When the curiosity to find out just what his mate looked like became too much for him to stand, Harry tilted his head back out from under that strong jaw, his glowing ethereal eyes seeking out his mates. Something fluttered in his stomach -nerves, or perhaps fear?- as his eyes met dark gun metal grey ones. Even with no sun or light, he appeared extremely pale and his fine white-blonde hair was unmistakable as it sloped down around his soft but expectant eyes.

"Surprise," said Draco Malfoy quietly, a small smile softening the sharp edges of his mouth, his grey eyes dancing in the dark shade offered by Harry's wings.

Sometimes Bad is GoodWhere stories live. Discover now