Un-Mate

It had been a grand total of 3 days since the start of term and Draco was honestly impressed that he had lasted as long as he did without someone saying anything, unfortunately that came to a spectacular end, just as he knew it would.

Draco had theorized to himself throughout the summer what he thought it would take to make him snap and he realized now, covered in pudding and pie that he had grossly overestimated his self restraint.

It had been the first dinner back at Hogwarts that Draco had actually gone to the Great Hall for. The looks and sneers had followed him as he walked purposefully to an empty position on the newly procured eighth year table. The Heads of the Houses had decided that in order to show unity they would keep the year together, no longer separated by house lines, to further enforce the new curriculum.

Draco hadn’t cared, he was there for the food only, especially after being stalked by the new caretaker and forcibly turned around from the kitchens entrance in the dungeons. Him and the caretaker had shared a few choice words that ended up with a scolding from the tiny Professor Flitwick who had appeared quietly around a corner.

So it was already with a bad mood that Draco dropped himself onto the bench and grabbed the closest thing to him. It was late and most of the dinner food had already been taken to but he hardly cared, the bone deep exhaustion that kept him sluggish demanded sugar for most meals anyway, especially as he knew he couldn’t afford falling asleep haphazardly around the castle. Crunching into the roll that had grown cold Draco took a minute to realise that the other students had gone quiet around him.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Draco looked up, the face in front of him hazy as he tried to force his eyes into focus, “What did you say?” he queried, still unsure if he had actually been spoken to or if the voice in his head had simply started to morph itself.

“I said, you shouldn’t be here.”

Terry Boot. Draco finally found the face and name of the man in front of him as he loudly crunched through another bite of the roll, deliberately letting crumbs fall onto the table from his mouth as he smiled around the mouthful.

“It’s a bit too late for that, I was invited just like everybody else,” replied Draco simply, barely aware of what was going on around him. He felt his stomach roll and flip with the sudden food intake. Had he forgotten to eat again? He questioned. Probably, he replied to himself.

“Just because you’re invited somewhere doesn’t mean you should attend,” retorted Boot, straightening his back to impose his height across the table.

Draco snorted, a small amount of spittle ejecting from his mouth and landing in front of the other man’s hands.

“What? Are you doing to force me out Boot? Boot me out, so to speak?” quipped back Draco, feeling quite smart with himself in spite of how lurching his speech was. The sharp edges of exhaustion dragged at his vision, and the hand that still had one good mouthful of the roll in it didn’t seem to want to make the journey to his mouth.

“You can’t speak to me like that,” fired back Boot, rising to his feet to stand over Draco.

In that moment was when Draco got his first real whiff of Boot’s scent since returning.

Alpha, said his body, dangerous.

Draco reared back enough to bare his teeth up at the man, “I can speak to you however I please. I may not hold sway or any particular favour but I could still buy your family’s land out from underneath them should I wish to.” Hands clenching and pulse racing Draco’s eyes flicked to the doors, he wasn’t in the position to take on anybody, let alone to attempt his hand at an Alpha. Boot was taller, stronger and appeared to have grown a considerable backbone that Draco wasn’t aware of.

Self-preservation thrummed in his mind, clearing out any of his tiredness. He needed to leave, and he needed to do it now without giving any ground or showing any weakness.

Draco glanced then to Ernie Macmillan, still seated beside Boot, silently giving support. Beta, said Draco’s body as he took a subtle smell of the air around him, easier escape.

The table had grown quiet and none of them noticed as the last of dinner disappeared from the table to be then refilled with dessert. The sounds of the younger students’ excitement over the confectionaries and chocolates fizzled in the air around them, as if just being in proximity to the tension dissolved it into something unintelligible.

“You may still be a Malfoy but you’re also an Omega,” stated Boot calmly, his level gaze hooking onto Draco’s, “And as an Omega, it’s your job to do as I say.”

“Oh, go suck yourself off Boot I’m certainly not going to do it for you,” shot back Draco irritably as he felt his chest tighten. Standing up his intent was leave or to at least get far enough away that he wouldn’t start suffocating in public. His breaths were coming shorter and shorter as he swayed on the spot, his fingers grew white as he held onto the side of the table. Draco knew he needed to move but all his energy was just on keeping his heart from exploding. The blood sounded as though it was going to pound straight out of his eyes, blood vessels burst and vision cloudy with red.

Ernie sneered in distaste, he words coming slow and unhurried as he too stood from the bench. “Please, you wouldn’t be worth enough to suck him off, an Omega like you would only be good on his knees.”

It only took a second, or maybe two, Draco couldn’t tell, couldn’t even make sense of his own body as he threw it across the table.

The sounds of the other students roared around him as he held Ernie to the ground, Draco hadn’t even bothered for his wand, instead his hands shook violently out of control as he held himself over top the other man, wildly out of breath.

“Say that again, I dare you,” snarled Draco through choked breaths, saliva slipping from his mouth and mucus dripping form his nose as he struggled to keep a hold on everything inside of him, “SAY IT AGAIN!”

It wasn’t a scream, or a yell, but something in a mix between the two and it quietened the noise around him. Draco panted angrily above Ernie who appeared unable to even blink at the man above him.

His head felt too light and there was no strength in his grip as he was pulled off the Hufflepuff. Fingers clenching over and over, the world swayed in slow motion as he wiped his face, trying to gain control over himself, or at least what was happening around him.

“You shouldn’t have said that Ernie, regardless of past grievances we’re all here to make a difference, and it’s hardly fair to use somebody’s designation against them. It’s as out of his control as our blood is out of ours.”

The words were stern and Draco twisted in the hands that he come to grip him across the chest, trying to get a glimpse of who had spoken. His mouth still hung agape as he panted uselessly, not even having the energy to have a panic attack as he slumped more and more against the body that held him.

“Draco, are you alright?”

Draco breathed deeply as the ends of soft hair brushed against his cheek, fluttering lightly in his vision. Oak and wet leaves in autumn filled his nose; bonfires and smouldering earth twined itself around his senses.

“If you’re going to be a bonfire, I want to try one of those melted chocolate mushy things the muggles do,” murmured Draco, attempting to shuck his way of out the hands that held him.

“Are you talking about s’mores?”

Draco took another deep breath, letting the scent linger in his nose as he slowly came to of the world around him.

“Harry, take him back to the common room, yeah? I’ll take care of things here.”

“That’s Granger,” murmured Draco lightly, his hand reaching slightly to try and catch the end of one of her curls in its fingertips.

“Yeah it is,” confirmed the voice, warm and thick like honey, “Come on, time to go rest.”

Draco let himself be led slowly from the hall, grossly aware that the wasn’t completely with it, but there wasn’t any part of him that could seem to make itself care.

The last thing Draco remembered before he fell onto the soft mattress of his bed was two sets of dark eyes.

They’d done nothing, objected his voice, angry and discordant in the fog, I thought we were friends.

*****

Harry stood over the almost blonde haired man as he slept. He knew he should move, leave him be and just ignore the fact that there was still some sugar coating the paler man’s check from his sprawl across the table, but fists clenched in and out over and over as he watched the soft rise and fall of his chest.

How on earth did Draco know about s’mores? The thought tumbled over and over, haywire around his mind, Harry was sure it was a muggle food only; he’d never heard a witch or wizard raised say the word or reference the food.

“Harry?”

Harry turned, watching as Neville slowly entered the long bed chambers with a partially wet towel in his hands. Harry held his eyes at the towel for a moment longer that needed and he wasn’t sure what the other man read in his expression.

“I thought it might be better to wipe him off a bit, you know? Everybody deserves dignity.”

Neville’s words were simple but the integrity of them ached in his chest. Without thinking Harry strode forward and crushed Neville in an embrace.

“Thank you Neville,” murmured Harry as he pulled back, “Thank you for being you.”

Neville simply smiled, handing over the towel and glancing around Harry to the now lightly snoring Draco.

“He’s going to be alright you know, we all will eventually,” Neville said as if it was the most reasonable reply, “It’s just gonna take us all a little while.” Neville paused as he took in the towel that Harry hand scrunched between his hands, small drops of water echoing on the floorboards below as the water was squeezed out of the linen. “You’ll be alright too.”

Harry nodded, relaxing his fingers one by one as Neville left the room. A brief commotion of sound echoed in during the short moment that the door was open but was quickly muffled again as it slid closed.

Harry carefully walked over the bed and took a slow look over Draco’s face and clothes. He didn’t want to do anything that would be considered unnecessary but he also didn’t like the idea of him sleeping in soiled clothing and ruining the sheets; and Neville was right, Draco deserved dignity, especially in this moment.

Methodically Harry began to slowly wipe the excess of desserts off from skin and cloth. He kept his distance as much as possible, only allowing touch as strictly necessary. He didn’t know if he’d be damned or thanked come morning so he kept any touch as light he could manage.

It only took 10 minutes until Harry was satisfied that he’d saved most of the clothing from absolute ruin. He turned to leave, maybe deposit the towel somewhere it could be washed when he paused again, one hand tensed on the edge of the bed frame.

Huffing quietly to himself he approached again, maneuvering the towel to a small clean spot on the very edge. He brought it down softly on Draco’s pale skin, wiping away the evidence of his distress; tears, mucus and saliva alike was removed from his skin and Harry smiled a little to himself as the soft sigh that Draco gave in his sleep at the attention.

Bundling up the towel again, Harry walked quietly to the door, opening it as silently as he could before taking one last look, “We’re going to be alright,” he murmured before finally turning away.