Decorus Draco

Chapter 8 - The morning after

Harry awoke the next morning, feeling decidedly warm and comfortable. He lay still for a few minutes, relishing the warm feeling around him. For once, he had woken up feeling happy and content. He was lying on his back, and had his arms around something warm and sweet smelling. A soft breath gently tickled his neck, and Harry smiled as he opened his eyes. And he opened his eyes wider.

He was lying on some kind of sofa. With Draco Malfoy in his arms. The blond was sleeping on his stomach, with his head snuggled against Harry's neck, and his left arm around Harry's waist.

Harry racked his brains to figure out what had happened. The last thing he remembered was Draco making some snarky comment and going to sleep in his own bed. And Harry had dozed off on the sofa, alone. Harry remembered the strong temptation to slip in Draco's bed, but he had resisted, hadn't he? And it was Draco on the sofa, not Harry in Draco's bed, so obviously this was not something Harry had initiated. Had Draco come of his own free will to sleep with Harry? Harry looked down at himself and Draco and was relieved to find that they were both fully dressed. Phew, so at least he had not somehow accosted the blond in his sleep and ravished him. It still made no sense though.

Harry thought some more and remembered the nightmare he had had. It had been so real, and he had felt Voldemort trying to break into his mind again. There was blood...so much blood. And it hurt so badly. And then, suddenly, it had changed. The dream that had followed was one he had had before, of Draco, in his Cattus form, comforting him. That...that didn't really happen, did it? He remembered holding on to cat-Draco in his dream, and feeling warmth and comfort radiate off him. Had Draco really climbed onto the sofa in the middle of the night just to comfort him?

Without really knowing about it, Harry began running his fingers through Draco's soft platinum strands. Draco sighed a couple of times, then tried to turn, and when he found that his movement was restricted, opened his eyes. And opened his eyes wider.

"Potter?" he squeaked, and tried to extricate himself from Harry's embrace.

Harry reluctantly released him, and Draco scrambled off the sofa, and stood staring at Harry.

"What the heck were you thinking, Potter? I clearly told you to stay away from my bed."

Harry merely raised his eyebrows as Draco looked first at the sofa, and then at his own bed, which lay empty.

"You...I...what did you do to me?" Draco asked faintly.

"I didn't do anything. I woke up a few minutes ago, and you were lying next to me."

"But I wouldn't...I would never...I'm not..." Draco mumbled.

Harry sat up and gently curled his fingers around Draco's wrist, but Draco wrenched his hand away from Harry.

"Don't touch me, Potter," Draco growled. "I'll find out what you've done to me. You'll pay for this, you'll see."

"Draco, listen to me, I didn't do anything. I had a nightmare, and I think you turned into...into your furry alter ego and climbed onto the sofa with me."

"What? No, I wouldn't do that. Why would I care if you had nightmares? You're lying, Potter."

Harry stood up now, his feelings of contentment slowly dissipating into annoyance.

"Well, then, why don't you tell me what you think happened?" Harry asked.

Draco hesitated. "You must have...I wouldn't do that willingly. Not unless you threatened me or something...."

"Look, it's not a big deal, alright? Nothing happened. Look at us. We're both fully dressed. And completely lacking embarrassing wet spots on our pants. Nothing happened. So let's just drop it, shall we?"

Draco had looked down hurriedly at his pyjamas as soon as Harry had mentioned embarrassing wet spots, and could find nothing to contradict Harry's claim.

"Fine," Draco growled. "But I've got my eye on you, Potter. You try anything funny with me, and Father will make sure you pay for it."

Harry snorted. "That's your idea of a good threat? Have you forgotten that your father works for the creature who has been trying to kill me ever since I was a baby? Unsuccessfully, if I may add. Ooh, I'm just shivering in my pants, Draco." Harry raised his voice to a high pitched whine, and Draco strode angrily towards the bathroom, fresh rose petals appearing as he walked.

"Whatever, Potter. Just watch your back," Draco said, before slamming the bathroom door.

Harry, not one to leave without having the last word, shouted at the door. "Well, just so you know, you snore like a girl!"

Harry scowled, not sure whether Draco had heard him, and then bent down and began to pick up the rose petals.

~~~~~

Harry scowled into his cereal, muttering about unreasonable blonds as Ron and Hermione watched him worriedly.

Harry had followed Draco into the Great Hall, and had stayed by his side and cleaned up the rose petals on the ground till the spell ended, which happened just as breakfast was ending. As soon as the petals stopped, Harry huffed over to the Gryffindor table, and began swallowing large gulps of cereal, and intermittently stuffing slices of toast into his mouth. Ron and Hermione waited with him as he hurried through the meal, though they were already done with breakfast.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione asked, for the third time.

"I said I was fine, alright. I made a mistake. I thought he would like the flowers, but he apparently prefers the gifts that Zabini gives him. I don't know why I even bother. He hates me. Even though he..." Harry trailed off, pausing his rapid ingestion of food to bite at his lower lip.

"Even though he..?" prompted Hermione.

"Nothing, it doesn't matter. He thinks it was a trick. He hates me even more because of it."

"Harry, did something happen while you were with Malfoy last evening?"

Harry turned to face his friends. "He...look, you can't tell anyone this, alright? It's just...I had a nightmare or a vision or something in the middle of the night. It felt like Voldemort attacking my mind again. I was in pain and Malfoy, he changed and he...he comforted me."

Ron gasped at this, and this earned him a slap on the arm from Hermione.

"How did he comfort you?" Hermione asked, turning back to Harry.

"I don't know. He just turned into his cat form, and I felt safe. The vision went away and I started dreaming of...of other things. Then he woke up this morning and denied that any of it had happened. He thought it was some kind of a trick."

Harry sighed. "He just hates me more now."

Hermione was looking shrewdly at Harry now. "Or maybe he just wants to believe that he does." She rummaged through her school bag, took out a bunch of parchments and handed it over to Harry. "Harry, this is some of the research I have been doing on Decoruses. Just various facts I found in different books. Read it. I think you'll find it very interesting."

Harry took the offered sheets of parchment and stuffed them into his bag. He got up and started to leave the Great Hall, before Hermione stopped him and put a quick deodorising spell on him. Ron snickered, and Harry scowled.

"Hey, I didn't have a chance to go to the dormitory and shower and change," Harry grumbled.

"Well, you smell great now," Hermione offered, stifling a chuckle of her own.

Harry had just stepped out of the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione when Eliot stepped out from behind a pillar.

"Harry," Eliot said, smiling widely at Harry and nodding at Ron and Hermione. "How did it go? Are you alright? Malfoy didn't try anything, did he?"

Ron rolled his eyes as Harry smiled weakly. "No, not really. It went fine. Not very successful, but at least I'm still alive, I suppose."

"Don't worry, Harry, everything will work out fine," Eliot said, holding Harry's hand and giving it a small squeeze, before walking towards his own class.

"Harry has a fan, Harry has a fan," Ron sang as soon as Eliot was out of earshot.

"What?" asked Harry, shooting Ron a puzzled look.

"Come on mate, don't tell me you haven't noticed - Eliot is totally into you."

Harry stopped abruptly. "Of course he's not. He's just being a friend."

"Doesn't he touch you a lot for being just a friend?" Hermione asked, a suspiciously innocent look in her eyes.

"He's just...gah! Stop taking the mickey! You're terrible the both of you," said Harry, bursting into laughter. "Eliot! Next you'll be saying that Colin has a crush on me!"

Harry chuckled as they walked into their classroom for their next lesson, History of Magic. Ron and Hermione shared a look and followed Harry into the classroom.

~~~~~

Professor Bin's monotonous voice floated in and out of Harry's consciousness. Harry had successfully charmed his paper a beautiful baby pink and had drawn a rather flattering sketch of Draco, and was adding his finishing touches to it, when he received a pinch from Hermione. Harry turned to see what she wanted, and she mouthed, "Read what I gave you."

'Oh yeah, the parchments,' Harry thought as he dug into his bag and removed the sheets that Hermione had given him. It must be important if Hermione thought it was worth reading it in Binn's class.

Harry uncurled the parchments and noticed that Hermione had neatly jotted down paragraphs, with their references, as well as a number of bullets for key points. Harry rolled his eyes. Only Hermione would take so much effort for something that didn't even have to be handed in.

He began reading.

The beginning was a short introduction to Decoruses and the legend surrounding how Decoruses were created. Apparently in ancient times, only female Veela had powers, and their male counterparts were ordinary wizards. However, Decorum Phillum, a young male descendant of the Veela, had worked hard and appeased the Veela God, Viagra, and had attained powers more than that of even female Veela. His children, all male, inherited his powers and came to be knows as Decoruses.

Harry skimmed through the next section which detailed a list of Decorum's descendants, and how the Decorus line was diluted by marriage into non-Veela bloodlines.

The next section was a description of Decoruses and their powers, and this Harry read carefully.

Decoruses are among the most powerful magical creatures on Earth. Pure Decoruses possess powers unimaginable to common wizarding folk, and were at one time, classified as highly dangerous creatures by the MoM (Ministry of Magic.) However, with the dilution of the Decorus bloodline, pure Decoruses have become extinct. The last pure Decorus was killed in 1526 after he went crazy in a jealous fit and murdered sixteen wizards for allegedly lusting after his bride to be. It had taken an army of over a hundred wizards to finally capture and kill the crazed Decorus, after he was deemed to be 'dangerous and homicidal' by the medi-witches at St. Mungo's.

Partial Decoruses exist even today, but their powers are far less than that of pure Decoruses. Decoruses, both pure and partial, are most powerful and dangerous in their Cattus form, where they lose most of their ability to think rationally and are driven only by emotions. In their Cattus form, Decoruses are like animals, and respond only to the most basic emotional stimuli. In this state, a Decorus's power increases ten-fold and the only thing that can calm an angry Decorus is the touch of a creature that the Decorus cares about. Because of their increased power and reduced capacity to analyse situations in their Cattus form, Decoruses are most dangerous in that state.

Decoruses are fiercely loyal and terribly possessive creatures. Nothing matters to them more than the well being of their loved ones, and if a creature that a Decorus cares about is in any kind of danger, the Decorus will instinctively turn into his Cattus form and protect that creature with everything he has.

There are a number of myths and legends suggesting that like certain other magical creatures, Decoruses also have a soul mate, or one creature that they are destined to be with all their life. Legend suggests that Decoruses mate for life, and if rejected by their mate, pine away and die without them. Old wives' tales also hint that because of Decoruses' tendencies towards violence, they often exhibit argumentative and even violent behaviour towards their mates. None of these legends or myths, however, have been proven, and to this day, Decoruses remain an oddity and an enigma to scienti-witches and wizards.

Harry looked up from his reading and turned towards Hermione, who now seemed to be paying rapt attention to Professor Binn's lecture.

Harry pondered about what he had just read. Did it mean that Draco was affected by his touch only because he was Draco's soul mate, or did the Slytherin actually care about him?

Harry was confused about his own feelings towards the Decorus. In the beginning, Harry had felt nothing but an overwhelming lust and passion for the beautiful blond, but after spending hours thinking about him, he had come to appreciate the Slytherin's other, non-physical assets as well. Like his sharp wit, his off-beat sense of humour, his intensity towards everything he set out to do...Harry could go on for ages.

Harry sighed. He'd have to have a talk with Hermione and Ron about this, and hopefully they would help him figure things out.

~~~~~

Later that evening, Draco lay on his bed, frowning as he re-read the letter from his father. It was short and to the point.

Draco,

Strange rumours, which concern you, Blaise Zabini, and Harry Potter, have reached my ears. Please respond at the earliest with an explanation.

Father.

Draco closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. What could he tell his father? Hell, he would like an explanation himself. The previous night, he had felt Potter's pain, it had coursed through his own veins like poison, and Draco had felt the urge to help and protect Potter. Snuggling with Potter had comforted Draco almost as much as it had seemed to comfort Potter, even though it was something he could not explain or rationalise.

Draco could not figure out what was going on with him and Potter. His father had explained to him that he might feel protective urges towards his friends and lovers, but towards Potter? He didn't care for him! It made no sense whatsoever that he would turn into his Cattus form and try to comfort Potter. There was no way Potter was actually his soul mate, was there? And yet, the evidence was overwhelming.

It's a trick, Draco thought to himself. Potter's been messing with my mind. I will never accept that he's my soul mate. I feel nothing for him but hatred. And I think it's time for me to show him just how much I don't care.

~~~~~