"Three bloodlines in one wizard," Hermione is scribbling furiously into her parchment. "How interesting!"
Draco grins from his spot on the bed. Headmistress McGonagall had just left after wishing him Happy Holidays, and other Harry had also just left to return to his own family. His Harry was still in the Infirmary, stable and very healthy.
Blaise and Ron were out on the Quidditch pitch, playing a competitive game of Bludger, and Hermione was here, in his dorm.
Bothering him about him being a mixed species wizard.
"What is a Fenomus," Hermione looks up at him. "I've never heard of them before."
She's wearing a black knotted sweater and her jeans, with tall boots, and her lips are shiny with lipgloss. Her lashes are still dark and her brows are still full. It seems like Blaise's influence has made her more confident.
Draco smiles at her. "Fenomus is actually the male conjugation of the word. Fenoma is for females, even though the gene runs more commonly in males. Fenomae, which is a species that is not recorded very often due to its rarity, is an elemental wizard. Unlike regular witches and wizards, Fenomae are exceptionally talented in controlling the elements without the use of a wand. The Fenomae are the ones who invented the Aguamenti spell, as well as the Fiendfyre. They are also inhabitants to the largest bank of wild magic that has ever been used in the world."
"How fascinating," Hermione whispers in awe, her hand moving swiftly over her notes. "Is your gene active?"
"Very much so," Draco nods. "It takes extreme concentration due to the amount of wild magic it takes to bend elements to your will, however, so I do not use it often."
"And your Veela lineage? You received it from your maternal side, right?"
"Yes."
"Amazing," she whispers again. "Now that you're bonded to Harry, do you feel any kind of connection to him?"
Draco laughs, all of a sudden. He laughs and he laughs even more when Hermione looks up at him with wide eyes.
"Pardon me," he says after he catches his breath, but he's still chuckling. "It is just that...I have never seen anyone so engrossed in learning something. You truly deserve all the praise you received for your marks, Granger."
Hermione blushes down to her neck line, where it disappears under her sweater. "I'm sorry. I just don't have a lot of interesting friends."
The Slytherin lifts a brow. "Your best friend is the Savior of the Wizarding World and your other best friend is the champion of the Quidditch Cup."
"All trivial things," she waves it off.
"By Salazar, woman," Draco grins. "You really only care for the important things."
"Harry is no longer the Savior of the Wizarding World, he's the slogan boy for the Ministry. And Ron, he's just lucky he's good at catching balls, if you know what I mean."
Draco splutters, and then he laughs again. "Woman!"
"I've never heard you laugh before," Hermione interrupts him. "It's quite...enthralling."
He exhales a wide smile. "It is actually part of the Veela gene. The reason I do not laugh often is because my body will release pheromones, which will have everyone launching themselves on me."
"Oh," Hermione's eyes widen and she scribbles it down.
"It is how a Veela finds suitors, as compatible mates will be impervious to the smell of pheromones."
"Wow," she says quietly. "Does it get overwhelming? In your head?"
"Not at all. I can function properly with both mindsets, and controlling my temper from my Fenomus gene is quite simple."
"Your Fenomus has a temper?"
"Oh, yes," Draco leans forward and rubs a hand down his face. "A terrible one. My Fenomus is directly connected to fire, it finds comfort in it. So when I cannot handle it anymore, the Fenomus is...unleashed."
"Remind me to not upset you," Hermione mumbles.
The blond laughs. "Oh, believe me. It would take a lot for the Fenomus to come out. Very rare, the occurrence."
"Has it ever happened," Hermione questions with wide eyes, scooting to the edge of her seat.
It's silent for a moment, and Hermione stares at Draco as he's lost in thought, looking at the pattern on his duvet. "Once," he says quietly.
"Do you remember it?"
"Every detail," he says, his voice low and regretful. "I do not wish to."
"Why? Did you hurt someone?"
"Yes."
"Someone close to you?"
"Yes," Draco's voice wavers.
"Draco..."
"I am fine," he says quickly.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I would rather not, if you do not mind."
"Not at all, no."
"Talk to me," Draco says. He leans back into his pillows. "Tell me about your makeover with Blaise."
"Oh!" Hermione's eyes light up considerably, lifting the shadows of the room with them. "He gave me half of his makeup collection, from Seraphiq. Quite entertaining, makeup is, so many things to play with. Especially lipgloss! I love lipgloss."
The Slytherin laughs. "Yes, I quite see that."
"He's very talented," Hermione says sheepishly, patting her cheek.
"Very," Draco hums. "It has been his dream for a very long while."
"To be a stylist?"
"To make people feel good about themselves. You will find he is very good at it."
"How exciting. I'm glad he already has the confidence to execute his future at such an early age."
The blond frowns at her. "What do you mean? Do you not have your future planned out for you?"
"Well, I know I want to work in the Ministry, making things right, the way they should be. But I don't know exactly where to start."
"But all the N.E.W.T.'s you have taken every year, they have not been for a specific career path?"
"Not really, no," Hermione shakes her head with an abashed grin. "All those that I've taken are to cover as much ground as possible. And since I've aced all of them so far, I have an opportunity in...every field."
"What seems to be the issue, then?"
"There's just so much to do," she exclaims at the ceiling. "And I want to do all of it. I just don't know where to start."
"When you think about our world, today, what is the first thing that calls to you?"
"Equality within magical creatures," she says, not missing a beat. "Especially house elf law, that is one I cannot get above. Poor things are treated so poorly because of one contract made at the beginning of time."
Draco loves the way her eyes twinkle with passion. "So start with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."
"All that happens there is practically brainstorming," she points out.
"Anyone would be an idiot not to listen to your sense of common knowledge. And from there, you make your way to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"You really think I could make it?"
"Why would you not? You are brilliant, driven, and very enthusiastic. You will make Deputy Head in no time. And, who knows, you might even be the Minister of Magic in a few years."
"You flatter me," Hermione is blushing her skin off, and she looks away to hide it.
"I am being wholeheartedly honest. There is no reason you would not make it. You are one of the best witches of this time, and it is my very best honor to experience you blossom."
*******
"I want to talk to Malfoy."
"Draco," Draco says firmly. "And you cannot. Not until you fully recover."
"I feel fine!" Harry throws his hands up into the air. "Madame Pomfrey said if I had the energy I could walk to the Entrance Court."
"She did say that. But you do not have enough energy."
"Yes, I do! And I'm wasting it talking to you."
Draco regards him, hurt in his chest but indifference in his eyes. He doesn't remember Harry ever being an Alpha in his past lives, but here he is--all stubbornness and pride compressed into one Harry Potter.
It's exhausting.
"Need I remind you that your nightly escapades nearly cost you your life," Draco stands and walks around the bed to the other side. "You are in pain and I can feel it. You forget I am also a part of you through your mate, status similarity or not."
"Why am I even part of this? Malfoy doesn't even like me!"
"Will you quit your incessant yapping," he finally snaps, glaring at the pouting boy on the hospital bed. "You sound like a dog."
"And you sound like my mother."
"I feel like your mother."
"Sod off," Harry turns away and lays down, his arms still crossed.
"You are a part of this," Draco continues. "Because you were the most eligible, compatible wizard in the entire world. Your Omega would not have sought you out had you been...average. As you say you are."
"But Malfoy and I...!"
"Draco," he states patiently. "And you both need not be best friends, you only need to be compatible, however it would be easier if you were at least acquainted so I would not have to sit here and tail you like a child."
"I don't need to listen to you. I can just walk out of here."
The blond grins slowly. "Be my guest."
Harry cheers internally, and his chest seems to open up at the idea of leaving this damned Infirmary. He wishes to be here no longer, he's spent way too much time in here in his last twelve years in Hogwarts, and he wants it to stop.
But when he goes to push himself off the bed, despite the pain in his body, which is ignored, he can't. As soon as his feet leave the comfort of the bed, he pushes forward still, trying to at least plant them on the floor.
The entirety of his body is pleading him to lay back down, to rest, to recuperate and regain energy lost. And he knows he should, he just has too many bad memories in this room.
Harry struggles forward, a sharp stab of pain shooting up his kegs when he stands.
And then he's falling.
But he never seems to fall because Draco is already there, his arms around him and lifting him to his chest.
"How stubborn you are," Draco breathes. "That never seems to change, does it?"
"I just," Harry huffs and drops his forehead on Draco's shoulder as they stand next to the bed with the blond holding him against him. "I don't like this room. At all. It brings bad thoughts to my head. I've spent way too much time in here and it hasn't been for the better."
"Why did you not just tell me that was the issue, love?"
Harry watches with furrowed eyebrows as Draco snaps his fingers, and the area around changes to look like his dorm in the Tower. He turns to look at a smiling Draco, who is also looking around, with wide eyes.
"I didn't know you could do that."
"All you ever need to do is ask. One way or another, you are my mate, and I will go to the ends of the earth to make sure you are satisfied."
"It's you," Harry says in wonder. "It's you that comes in my dreams. It's not Malfoy."
"Not your Draco, no. But yes. It was the only form of transport I could handle without you kicking me out of your head."
"You're the one that kissed me."
"Yes."
"And you're the one that told me stories of how we've been together for lifetimes."
"Yes."
Draco maneuvers him back onto the bed, and Harry just stares at him. "Are you the one who makes me think of him all the time?"
"I do not. That is all you. That means that you were compatible enough to be Draco's pair."
"Are you trying to say we were made for each other?"
"Since birth," Draco nods. "In any way you have ever been born, you will always end up together. It is what is written for you."
"I just don't understand why it was me."
"Because you are powerful, and stubborn and impulsive. And Draco knows what to do with a lot of power even though he does not bear it, and he is level-minded. He can think things through, he is patient. You balance each other out perfectly."
Harry wants to scream at him, but he doesn't get the chance to because Professor McGonagall is entering with the older version of Harry behind her.
Draco stands, pulling the other Harry into his chest closely. Then he turns to the Headmistress. "Anything bad?"
"Bad," Harry says loudly. "Something bad happened?"
"The castle is heavily guarded," the other Harry says, ignoring his younger self. "There's no way this could have gotten out."
"With the right form, it is possible," Draco says. He stands taller and flits his hands into his trousers pockets.
Harry is momentarily distracted by the way it accentuates his plump behind.
"There has been no sign of stake outs. And unless my students still haven't learned their lesson, the only way any information could get out is by mail."
"Impossible," Draco says. He leans against the side of the bed, which gives Harry a better look.
He can't stop staring at the pattern on Draco's trousers.
"As far as everyone knows, he's still missing. The only ones aware of his reappearance are the younger Slytherins, and that has been taken care of."
"In any case," the other Harry moves next to Draco. "Harry isn't safe here in the Infirmary. The wards might hold, but since it's right next to the Forbidden Forest, the tandem mingles. It is better for him to be moved back to his dorm."
"Safe," Harry mumbles distractedly. He feels his head go fuzzy and he inches his hand towards Draco.
Headmistress McGonagall frowns. "The Tower..."
"He's right. The Eighth Tower is in the middle of the castle. Not only would they have to go through you, they'd have to pass all the alarm charms you set in every corridor. He's safest there."
"Oi," Draco exclaims. He turns to look at Harry, who has wide eyes and an outstretched hand to where Draco's bum once was. "Excuse you."
"Sorry," Harry says, but he doesn't sound sorry in the least. His eyes travel back down to where Draco's arse is still very accessible.
"What's with him," the other Harry asks amusedly.
"Pheromones," Draco mutters, rolling his eyes. "Only way he would not ask questions."
The Headmistress chuckles. "The Tower it is."