Whoops?

When they land at Harry's destination Harrys panic increases, he doesn’t let go of Draco even as he paces.

When he stops pacing, he pulls Draco close to him and sits down on the floor of the small shack.

“Harry,” Draco speaks gently and Harry's neck snaps towards him, “Where are we,”

“I don’t know.” Harry can hear the panic obvious in his own voice, “I’m so sorry.”

“Its alright we can apparate back,” Harry knows that Dracos is trying to soothe him but the panic increases it apparently showed on his face because he continued, “Or we could look around,”

As Harry finally takes in his surroundings he notices the smell of damp earth. For a moment he thinks he had somehow apparated to the shrieking shack, but the smell of the harsh Scottish weather is missing.

Instead an obvious humidity loomed over them both making Harry sweat through his winter coat. He sheds the coat and throws it to the ground and helps Draco out of his hoodie.

***
Draco sits compliantly in Harry's arms until the wolf calmed down and Draco could get him to stand up.

“Lets figure out where we are, okay Love?” Draco does his best to keep his tone even.

Harry nods and starts leading them both off towards the left. After a few minutes walking in the brush the sound of people speaking in a different language becomes clearer.

Draco has never been more grateful for his aristocratic upbringing. He knows some Portuguese.

He clears his throat, “Onde estamos.”

Harry shoots him a questioning look so he translates through the mindlink as they speak.

“Where are we?”

“Fiyó, Brazil.” The man gave him a strange look, likely wondering how two strange british men ended up in Brazil

“Wild night.” Draco says as if that explains anything, the man nods, “Does anyone speak english around here, my Portuguese is a little rusty and my friend doesn’t speak a word of it,”

The man sighs and says in a strong accent, “Um, theres a hotel down the road, they speak,” The man pauses before saying in Portuguese “A little english,”

The man nods down the road.

“Thank you,” Draco says in Portuguese before following where the man had nodded.

“You speak Portuguese?” Harry seems baffled.

“And French and Mandarin and Spanish and Dutch and a little Hindi, but I learned that much younger, before my father gave up on the Potters.”

“What?” Harrys face scrunches up, “What does that have to do with the Potters?”

Draco can’t help but stare at him, “The Potters were Pure-Bloods,”

When Harry didn’t drop the confused look Draco continued, “Your family came to Britain from India in like 1842?”

When Harry didn’t stop looking at him like that it occurred to Draco that no one taught Harry his family history. With him being almost white passing, and the dursleys not giving a rats ass about him, Draco had grown up surrounded by his family's history, but Harry must've been completely oblivious to it.

***

Draco spent the rest of the walk to the hotel teaching Harry about the small amounts of the Potters history he knew, and Harry loved it. He remembered begging the Dursleys for any amount of information about his history when they were in a good mood, but it never ended well and eventually he just stopped asking, but Draco, even with the small amount he knew, was the most information he had ever gotten.

He listened attentively and when Draco ran out of information about the Potters, Harry asked about the Blacks. Draco had far more information on them, how they moved from France to Britain, how they ended up with Grimmauld Place, all of the warding on the Black name.

Harry didn’t feel any closer to Sirius knowing more about his family, but he did feel closer to Kreature, who hadn’t been kind to him once since moving to Grimmauld, but he hadn’t been cruel. Being 647 might make you a little cold.

***

“How did he do that?” Parkinson askes dropping her disinterested frown, “Hogwarts apparition wards shouldn’t let that happen?”

Hermione sighed. Really she should have realized this was going to happen. Harry obviously felt like his Mate was being threatened. Of course he’d whisk him away to safety.

“Ostende Harry Potter,” Hermione cast the spell and the words South America supply themselves to her brain, “Great, how did he manage to get himself into South America,”

“South America?” Parkinson repeated, “How.”

Hermione ignored her once again, “We need to talk to Headmistress Mcgonagal,”

The gaggle of students started off towards her office but ran into her in the hall.

“Ah, Headmistress, it appears Harry has run away.”

***

When they finally get to the Hotel its small, but the effort put in to keep it up was obvious. Walls were painted a deep yellow and the window sills a clean white, without a single smudge of dirt on them despite the overhanging flower pots. Overall the entire hotel gave off intense well loved feelings

When they walked in Draco felt the cold familiar rush of wards rush over him and Harry tensed at his side. Draco sent him a questioning look.

“There's a wolf here,” Harry leaned closer to Dracos ear and muttered it, making Draco suppress a shudder.

Moments later a little old lady with a heavy Texan drawl walks towards them.

“Hi, I’m Mary,” A bubble of silence surrounds them very suddenly, “Are you the ones who triggered my wards?”

“Um-” Harry starts.

“Oh Merlin and Morgana both, you gave Maureen such a fright,” the old woman pats Harry's face and guides them both to the back.

Maureen stood tense in a small room behind the counter, when Harry and her met eyes they both rush forward and grab their respective companion. A low growl builds in Harry's throat which Maureen mirrors intimidatingly despite her age.

“Maureen, we do not treat guests like that,” Marry scolds.

Maureen seemed to almost pout at Mary.

“This is my wife Maureen.” Mary pats her wifes head.

In a deadpan familiar aristocratic tone, “Lovely to meet you.”

Harry says back in a similar tone, keeping Draco behind him, “The pleasures all mine,”

Draco figures that Harry is not in any state to have pleasant conversation, so he sends a soothing wave of energy through the bond and takes over.

“I’m Draco,”

Harry smiles and looks over at him, the energy seeming to be enough to calm him down, “Dont you mean ‘Malfoy, Draco Malfoy’,”

Draco ignores him after a swift kick to the shin, “We were at hogwarts but-”

Draco pauses, slipping into the mindlink, “Are we telling them about the potions thing?”

“I don’t see any reason to, we can just act like I’m super in touch with my wolf.”

They slip out of the mindlink, “Harry and his wolf felt like we were threatened and we ended up in Brazil.”

The two women are looking at each other intensely and they seem to have their own silent conversation before Mary says, “It’s not bad y’know, being bonded?”

The two splutter.

Maureen pipes up, “It’ll get you blasted off the family tree yes, but all that family tree ever caused was trouble and inbreeding.”

She wiggles her fingers at inbreeding, the cold demeanor when they walked in fading away.

Draco squints at the women in front of him. She holds herself tall despite her age, her greying brown hair is in a tight bun a top her head. Every inch of her, from the wary look she gives Harry, to the tightness in her brow screams pureblood.

Draco takes a wild guess. “Fawley?”

“Yaxley.” She corrects with a frown.

“No ones going to blast me off.” Draco says, “I’m the last free Malfoy.”

“Does your mother not count?” Harry asks.

“She renounced his name,” Draco smiles.

He wonders if his father knows. His wife has renounced his name and his son is lusting after Harry Potter. A scandal indeed. Harry grins with him, despite likely not understanding what a slight to the Malfoy name his mother pulled, but Narcissa had always been strong.

***

Maureen seems nice enough, even if the whole place reeked of her, especially Mary. Constantly being near Mary and Maureen put him on edge and he was itching to scent Draco.

What made it worse is his wolf kept coming back to the front of his mind making him size up the sweet old lady. Draco and Mary took to conversation while he and Maureen stared at each other.

“I’m going to show the boys to their rooms,” Marry said, smiling warmly at both of them.

When did they get rooms?

Maureen smiles back, “Do you mind if I talk to Harry here for a moment?”

Her wife smiles at her and guides Draco away, making Harry itch all over, he can’t imagine it’s any better for him.

Harrys wolf at least isn’t too volatile with his ‘Mate’ being taken away, knowing the only other werewolf is with him.

After a few moments of silence Maureen says, “It never stops.”

“Hm,” Harry says, tearing his gaze away from the door.

“My every being itches to be right next to her,” Maureen smiles fondly at the door, “Do you want to keep the bond?”

“My wolf thinks-”

“Thats not what I asked,” Maureen says gently, “Do you want to keep it,”

Harry thinks to himself, he doesn’t want Draco to leave, oh Merlin he doesn’t, he wants an excuse to cling to Draco, to keep him as close as possible, to wake up with Dracos hands in his hair, to be allowed to be as close to Draco as he wants, to make Draco breakfast, he wants it all.

Maureen seems to have her answer just by looking at him, “Tell him,”

Harry runs his hands through his hair nervously, “What if it’s just the bond,”

“You really aren’t the type to read are you?” Maureen says chuckling, I have been a werewolf for 35 years, 23 of those years I’ve had a mate. I’ve been bonded for 26 of them, I feel like I know whether or not its the bond, don’t you?”

“The constant scenting might make my wolf like him,” Maureen looks extremely confused.

“The wolf?” Maureen blinks twice, “Honey, do you even understand what a Mate is?”

“Someone my wolf really likes,” Harry says furrowing his eyebrows.

“Who told you that , because misinformation like that wouldn’t be printed by any self respecting werewolf.”

“Draco did?”

Maureen suddenly starts laughing, “I am so sorry, but a mate is so much more, it’s someone you’re in love with, not just your wolf.”

Harry feels the blood rush to his face he feels tempted to just say, ‘Nuh-uh’ and walk away but he doesn’t.

Maureen smiles empathetically and starts to guide him out the door, “You look just like Mr. Fleamont Potter with worse hair.”