Chapter Twenty Five

Sunday 13 September 1998

Draco

Harry helps me out of the bath, grabbing my towel from the rack without even looking. I don't stop to wonder how he knew which was mine. He wraps it around me, then reaches for a random one for himself.

No, no, no.

And even though that's all you say, I know exactly what you mean. No, he can't have someone else's towel. No, because it will smell like someone else. No, because he will smell like someone else.

I do the first thing I think of - fall against him before he has the chance to wrap the towel around himself, forcing him to drop it and catch me. His arms around me feel like home.

"Are you alright?"

"Share?" His answer is an unrestrained grin, and I shift so the towel is around both of us.

We dry off, then head back to the main room. My eyes snag on my 'nest', and the panic flies through me again, stealing my breath and bringing stinging tears to my eyes. But one look at Harry shows he's deliberately not noticing it, and just that calms me down slightly.

"You're so beautiful, how could I be looking at anything but you?" And then my heart is racing for an entirely different reason. "It's okay, Draco, I promise. I know, I understand it isn't you, I know." But it's not just that. I don't know entirely what it is myself, but I know that it's not just that. Because subs make their nests for their dominants. My nest is for Harry. It's for Harry and me and our chicks and no one and nothing else. And anything I give to Harry must be perfect, because Harry deserves perfect.

I think he can tell that his words don't relax me as much as they were intended to, because he remains frowning slightly.

"What do you want to do, my love? We can stay, I can ignore it? Or... or I could give you time to fix it?" I nod at that. I want to fix it, I want to put effort into our nest, for it to be perfect. I want to give my mate something perfect, something I made myself that he loves more than anything. "Okay, that's great. How... how long do you need?" Forever. Because nothing can be good enough for my mate. I cock my head, a silent question as to whether I can speak. He nods, smiling softly.

"A week? Maybe more."

"That long?" Is it too long? Is he angry? No, no, no- "Hey, that's fine. I just didn't realise how long it took. Take as long as you need. I'll just... I'll miss you." A whine crawls out of my throat. He'll miss me. My mate will miss me.

I bury my face into his neck to inhale his scent. I can't get enough of it. I can't wait until I mark this spot; until this scent can merge with mine. I don't want him to go. I want him to stay with me forever and ever. But I need to fix my nest. And need comes before want.

Eventually, he leaves. I give him one of my larger cloaks, the idea of anyone but me seeing my mate's bare skin makes me feel like I'm about to throw up all the blood in my body. The sight of him leaving is almost worse. Almost. But he leaves, and Blaise and Neville take his place a few moments later. They're grinning.

"You found your mate, Dray," Blaise says, voice warm, if voices can have temperatures.

"Yeah. I did." And it's not just Blaise's voice that is warm; it's everything.

I turn, assessing my nest and starting on a mental list - a painfully long mental list - of things I need to do before it is anywhere near acceptable.

"Draco, stop. I know what you're doing, and you can do it in the morning. Well, you can do it after class. Nevertheless, you can do it tomorrow. Now, you can sleep." I whine. There's no time! I have a week to make a nest as perfect as my mate, a task that can't even be accomplished in a lifetime. Sleep is not a priority.

"If you don't sleep, you'll have to face Harry looking like you haven't," Neville says, and it's obvious he's a sub too; he might as well have known the exact inner workings of my mind because that was probably the only thing he could have said to get me into that bed.

I know it can't be, but it feels like he's there as soon as I close my eyes. The mate dream is different now that we've met, and don't have to hide anything. It's more real. It's Harry.

I visibly see him breathe a sigh of relief when he sees me, and I find myself in his arms before I can even figure out which way's up and which is down.

"Thank Merlin, I can't be without you, it was driving me crazy not knowing if you were okay, what you were doing. Eli was driving me insane, he would not stop yelling at me to turn around, I... Fuck, Draco, I..." He pauses, taking deep breaths, assumedly of my scent. I feel as he relaxes, arms loosening slightly around me, head falling against my shoulder, muscles relaxing against my body.

As he holds me, I rest the side of my head against his chest, and slowly blink my eyes open - eyes I didn't even realise I had closed - and gape. Because every other dream we have had was simply focused on each other, standing in nothing but a white landscape. But now it's home. Not home at Malfoy Manor, not home in the Slytherin dorms, not any home I've ever known. In fact, I don't understand how I know this is home, but I do know that it is.

We stand in a bedroom, or at least, a room with a bed in it. Or, rather, a nest. All the breath I have exits my lungs and I am left empty, because this is it. This nest is it. The perfect nest. I didn't have a vision in mind before now, I didn't know what I wanted my nest to be like, except for a vague impression of better, but now I know that this is it. This is a nest I would be proud to present to my mate, to nurse my chicks in.

Harry must realise I'm distracted, or maybe he can tell the change in my mood from my scent, because he takes his head out of my shoulder with a confused look on his face, and follows my gaze to the nest.

"Oh," he gasps. "That's it, huh?" It makes me inexplicably happy that he knows that this is our nest. And it makes him happy too, based on the grin that splits his face open as he looks back at me. "You're going to make that for me?" I nod, because I am, I really am, and I won't stop until I do. The look in his eyes, the sweet tint to his scent, says love love love. I can tell that even though I haven't made it yet, it's future existence means the world to him.

He takes both of my hands in his, and walking backwards, leads me to the nest. "May I?" And of course he may, he can do whatever he wants, because the nest is for him, for us. But I can't say that. I don't think I can say anything right now. I nod.

He climbs into the nest in a way that reminds me that he's a wolf, even without Eli. A contented rumble echoes through his chest and out into the room.

"Draco, it... it's perfect." He sounds so grateful, like I've already made it for him, and my heart fills. He smiles at me, and for the first time as he does my eyes are drawn to his own rather than his lips. Because his eyes are shining, practically luminous. He holds a hand out to me, and I take it to clamber into the nest after him. He pulls me against him so my chest is pressed against his and our faces are so close our noses brush against each other and his breath ghosts my lips.

He's right. The nest is perfect.  It holds both of us perfectly and it smells like me and Harry and something that's a mix between us, as well as something else, something subtler, and I realise it's an echo of our friends' scents: Blaise and Neville and something that must be Weasley and Granger and Harry's other Gryffindors, and I don't even mind that there are scents I don't recognise because I know it is making my mate happy.

Harry tugs on something behind him, and pulls the subsequently freed blanket over us, before wrapping his arm back around my waist, and bringing his other one up to cup my face, rubbing a thumb across my cheek.

"I'm so lucky," he whispers, and I feel a sudden rush of disbelief. I am mated to the most perfect person in the world, and he considers himself lucky to be with me. He doesn't even know what luck is. "You're so beautiful, my Draco." I have to close my eyes as happiness overwhelms me to stop myself from welling up. "Talk to me, my love. I want to hear your voice."

"You've said that," is the first thing that comes to mind, and therefore the first thing that flies out of my mouth to fulfil his command as quickly as possible.

"Said what?"

"That I'm beautiful." He chuckles.

"Well, there's a simple explanation for that, beautiful." In reply, I rub my cheek against the palm of his hand. "It's insane how much I missed you in half an hour. Merlin, I thought I might die."

"No. Don't even say that." Just the thought of him... him leaving me switches every part of my body off, as if it's shutting down in protest. All my muscles relax at once and I melt against the nest and my mate, all thoughts leave my head, and my heart starts beating slower. I don't know which one he notices, but he does, and cups my face in his hands, and speaks with a tremor in his voice.

"Hey, hey, look at me, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. You're not getting rid of me anytime soon, Draco. Look at me, beautiful." I start breathing again, focusing just on that word. Beautiful, my mate thinks I'm beautiful. "There you go, so good for me. Fuck, you scared me then."

"S-sorry."

"No, don't apologise. It was my fault, I was careless. I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Promise?"

"I promise. But... you missed me that much?"

"Of course. I couldn't stand not knowing if you were okay, if you were safe. Couldn't stand not having you in my arms. Your cloak smelt like you, but not enough, never enough. Saw your face every time I blinked but it wasn't you, Draco. Merlin. Maybe it's because we just found out we're mates, in fact, I hope it was because if it wasn't I'm screwed every time we have to be apart. It was just so-" I kiss him. I can't not. His lips are moving so quickly and they're saying such nice things that I need to capture his words with my mouth so I can keep them forever. His sentence is cut off and he sighs into my mouth, relaxing before tightening his grip on my face and deepening the kiss. And this is different to before in the woods, because that was our first kiss and I was shocked and uncertain and we weren't in our nest, but now... now it is perfect.

His tongue traces the outline of my lips as his hands trace patterns across my cheeks and neck to my shoulders, then trace the shape my body, my chest, my waist, until they're gripping my hips hard enough to bruise if we were awake and actually touching. My own arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to me, opening my mouth to meet his tongue with my own. He growls into the kiss, the sound making me weaker than I already am, making my thoughts more jumbled and messy than they already are, until the only one left is mate mate mate mate mate mate mate mate.

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