Chapter 13: Fact or Fiction?

Chapter Text

Harry woke in an unfamiliar bed, wrapped in unfamiliar arms, surrounded by a very familiar scent.

He stiffened as he realized he was shirtless, though thankfully his lower half seemed to have retained a pair of pyjama bottoms. The hands splayed over his chest and torso were warm and soft to the touch. A tiny thought nagged him in the back of his head, taunting that he should know where he was and who was holding him.

Harry didn't dare move yet, trying to remember what had happened before he'd blacked out. He couldn't recall anything specific, just walking through the dungeons and feeling extremely tired. He thought maybe it was after he'd left Potions Class, but he couldn't be sure. He couldn't remember. What he did remember was the lovely scent wafting over him, its source being the one holding him from behind.

Theo.

He twitched faintly, in shock. This was one of those odd fantasies that had played out in his dreams. He'd never thought of something like it could ever occur in real life. This had to be a dream. It would explain why he couldn't remember anything and maybe, just maybe, he could have a few moments of sanity—enjoyable sanity—where he could be himself without anyone trying to kill or maim him.

As if sensing his morbid train of thought, the arms holding him close, tightened.

Harry swallowed hard. He squinted up in the darkened surroundings and puzzled it out. From what he could make out, he was comfortably tucked into a bed in the Slytherin dorms. There was too much green and silver for it to be anything else but Slytherin. Thankfully, the curtains were drawn shut around the bed and only a sliver at one corner near the head, allowed a trickle of light to show in.

Huh. He'd never had a dream that led him to the Slytherin dorms before.

He shifted enough for a bit of cold air to slip down the blanket and it brought a shiver. Harry wrinkled his nose. Cold was bad. He much more preferred it be warm and soft.

Hm.

Warm and soft.

There was currently a very warm, comfortable thing snuggled up to him—a thing that didn't make sense, until said thing moved and a confused Harry equated it to a person.

Theo.

It was him!

This could turn out to be the best dream ever!

There was a chuckle from somewhere behind him and Harry twisted in the arms holding him tight. His first reaction was to run and the second was to stay. The reactions battled it out between themselves as Harry tensed for the outcome.

"You're thinking too hard." Theo's quiet, rich voice whispered in his ear. "And you are most certainly not dreaming."

All thoughts of running promptly extinguished themselves.

If he dared to think this wasn't a dream, then he'd hold onto this for as long as he could.

Theo shifted and somehow Harry found himself half-sitting up and held carefully on the Slytherin's lap, tucked between the older boy's legs and cuddled close to a warm chest and soft pyjama jacket. It was comfortable and comforting. His sleep-foggy mind suggested that if it wasn't a dream, he ought to go back to sleep.

Harry nearly rolled his eyes, but that seemed to take too much energy. He was tired. Again. It felt as if he'd slept and the sleep had helped, but he was tired, as if the rest hadn't helped at all. Everything was so mixed up!

Theo? He tried to say. But instead of actual words, a faint whine of distress came out.

A soothing rumble sounded nearby. The chocolate-haired beauty leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the side of Harry's forehead, just beside that troublesome scar. His long fingers curled and stroked as they carded through the messy mop of black hair.

Harry felt his eyelids slide halfway closed. Dream or not, he didn't care. This was nice. A soft, purring sound bubbled out as he yawned and buried his face back in the softness of Theo's stomach. He was so tired, but now it didn't feel quite as bad, more like just a happy tired. He winced as a spike of pain shot through his right shoulder.

"Harry?" Theo bent to nuzzle his head, breathing soft, warm breaths though the tufts of hair as the hands now shifted to rub in soothing strokes over the tired body draped over him. "How are you feeling?"

Harry began to move in answer and stopped almost at once when putting any pressure on his shoulder made the pain intensify. He didn't remember that and it hurt! It really hurt! His mouth opened and again, instead of words, a panicked trill turned into a pained whimper.

"Mmm." Theo murmured, noncommittally. "I am sorry about that. I could not help myself. Not when you called so…desperately." The warm hands stroking up and down inched to up to the aching shoulder and skittered lightly over the sensitive soreness on his shoulder. It took the edge off of the sharp darts of pain. Harry made another muffled sound, a mixture of confusion and surprise. Theo smiled. "You were irresistible, treasure of mine."

Harry blinked up at him. Me? A Treasure? No. Theo was certainly talking of someone or something else. Harry stifled a shudder. He didn't like that thought. He didn't want Theo thinking of anyone else. Not when he was holding him close and speaking so nicely. He shivered.

"Still cold?" Theo's voice held a hint of amusement and he drew the blankets up around them, careful to leave it off of the aching shoulder.

Harry couldn't stop the purr that came forth once more, especially now that he was warm and mostly comfortable again. Everything was delightfully mixed up and confusing, but he didn't care. If this was a dream, then he'd enjoy every last second of it to his heart's content. He sighed and snuggled closer, the tension slowly leaving his body. His shoulder twinged faintly and suddenly, the warm stroking hands, began to move and shift him.

A distressed whine was his only protest, until Harry realized that Theo was now shirtless.

Huh.

He liked that new adjustment.

Willingly sinking back into the welcoming arms, Harry nestled himself in the new warmth and breathed deeply. The scent was more discernible in this state. It was something faintly of chocolate and oranges and perhaps a hint of steel. His mind argued that someone couldn't really smell like steel, but Harry didn't care. If that's what Theo smelled like up close, then that was exactly what Theo smelled like. His nicely ordered thoughts could go take a hike if they intended to mess up his dream! He took another good whiff, breathing deep. The chocolatey scent was perfect.

Probably from all the chocolate frogs, Harry thought, tiredly. He yawned against the smooth skin and without thinking, licked it.

At once, he was awake.

The taste was exotic and sweet, nearly exploding on his tongue as his sleep-fogged mind bustled into activity. He liked that taste. He liked it very much. Harry tilted his head and took a bigger, more experimental swipe of his tongue, to feel the arms cradling him, tighten quite nicely and a soft hitch of breath from somewhere above his head.

Ooh, that reaction was nice.

Harry did it again.

Theo shifted.

Harry almost laughed.

"Har-ry." The name was breathed as a groan. "Just do it, don't…tease."

Harry blinked innocently up at him, even though he knew that the older boy couldn't quite see him. Theo shifted and Harry was suddenly presented with a perfect bicep just in reach. His eyes twitched and flickered and he knew they were shifting to their natural, Dragel state. He couldn't be bothered to worry about it, because—just as suddenly—his fangs were morphing out of his gums and the only thing he really wanted to do was to take a good bite out of that arm…

Theo flinched when the fangs sunk into his flesh. The bite was awkward and inexperienced, but he really wouldn't have it any other way. The moment Harry was completely engaged, he shifted his attention back to the bite he'd inflicted the day before. To seal the claiming mark, he needed to tend to it after Harry had reciprocated in kind. He licked, sucked and kissed the abused, inflamed patch of skin, noting that there was a perfect, round circle instead of two crescent shapes. That was nice. He thought, absently.

The redness on Harry's shoulder faded, the pain disappearing with it as the mark remained, though paler than it had been before. It would be sensitive to his touch, always—and would provide him with the opportunity to provide greater pleasure or comfort to his new mate.

"That's enough, Harry." Theo tapped gently on the head, trying to ignore the feelings stirred up by the faint sucking motions and Harry's equally soft lips. It wouldn't do for his body to respond to the tender ministrations just yet. It was quite normal for submissive Dragels to grow addicted to the taste and scent of their mate, particularly when a fine, liquid sheen of said scent would display itself on the dominant's body when aroused, but this wasn't the time. To Harry, blood wouldn't taste like blood to a creature that was literally half the essence of blood magic. It would be more like Ambrosia. Theo flexed his hand, waiting. He wanted to have some time with Harry before their instincts took over, at least, he wanted to give himself some preparation time before their circle expanded and his body would take on all the dominant alpha traits, if Harry chose a beta.

Harry made a sound in the back of his throat, happily drawing on the wound.

Theo sighed. He caught one pale ear between two expert fingers and gave a light twist, just enough to catch the boy's attention.

At once, Harry's fangs slid free and he leaned away from the touch, eyeing him suspiciously. He hadn't done anything wrong, had he?

Theo had to chuckle at the adorable expression. "You didn't do anything, I just needed to do this." He traced one finger in the bloodied bite and drew a circle, adding a few dots and then crisscrossing it with three lines. He muttered softly beneath his breath and Harry twitched, faintly. The bleeding circle turned instead, to a complicated tattoo done in a deep, red ink. The wound melted away to clear, unblemished skin and only the tattoo remained.

Harry's eyes grew wide and then he hissed, as a burning sensation rippled on his formerly aching shoulder.

"Harry, Harry, shhh!" Theo soothed, drawing himself up and catching the flailing arms and legs, effectively trapping the smaller body beneath him. "It's fine. It's fine, my treasure. Everything is fine." He soothed, layering, gentle kisses along Harry's face and neck, before finally nuzzling the new tattoo in experimentation. Harry went boneless beneath him, with an audible chir of pleasure. Theo chuckled. "Oh, you like that, do you?" He repeated the action. A flurry of happy noises came from Harry, punctuated by a little wiggle and followed by a sudden, perplexed frown. He really wanted to talk and yet, his voice simply wouldn't cooperate. Another laugh came from the golden-eyed boy. "You cannot do that, until I do this…" The hands found their way a little lower than before and Harry's eyes grew wide.

For a moment, he turned his head away, pressed into the sheets, turning red with embarrassment and shame as the long-fingered hand slipped into his pyjama bottoms and straight into his pants where they fondled and stroked, taking interest with a rather sensitive portion of his anatomy. The long fingers handled him with expert care, pulling, teasing and fisting with just the right amount of pressure. His body burned pleasurably as Theo's head bent to his neck and bit down, lightly, on the tattooed mark.

That was all Harry needed.

He keened in pleasure as he came to completion and his body arched upwards off the bed as his mind happily blanked out for several blissful moments. When he returned to himself, a fierce, mortified blush danced over his face and he couldn't quite look the other boy in the eye. But even as he looked away, he was willingly soothed and adored by Theo's magic hands, as the red faded to a manageable pink flush all over his pleasured body.

"Say something now." Theo murmured. "That should've done it."

"Done what?" Harry said, hoarsely. His green eyes grew wide as he heard his own, rich voice and then realized that he really was speaking and not in the jumble of sounds he'd been making since he woke. He sound quite different now.

"That." Theo's laugh sounded again and he shifted to settle them comfortably together. "Until I show I care for you in an intimate way, your Dragel side would have you resort to more drastic measure to grab my attention, seeing as I am your first mate. Temporarily pushing your Dragel instincts to the front, forces you to communicate in your natural way. It means I cannot ignore you." He smiled at the look on Harry's face. "No unclaimed Dragel of dominant nature would be able to refuse you like that. You are quite lucky it is a weekend, you know." He said, conversationally. "If it were any other day of the week, this might not have been so easy."

Harry wriggled faintly in response. He had to ask, even if it came back to bite him later. "I'm not dreaming am I—ah."

The expert fingers dug gently into the sensitive skin and wrung a pleasured moan from the smaller body. "Definitely not dreaming." Theo breathed. "Go to sleep, Harry."

Sleep? Harry wanted to protest. His head was brimming with questions. His mind was a lovely, jumbled mess. His body was all but screaming for something that literally made him feel as if his face was on fire and Theodore wanted him to sleep? He could have cried and laughed at the same time.

But the same expert fingers gently stroked that sensitive mark and Harry yawned. A wave of tiredness washed over him and his eyelids began to droop.

"Sleep." Theo whispered, again.

Harry was out like a light.