Chimera Luck

Chapter, the first

Pink was really not Snape's color.

Harry wondered at his inane thoughts as he watched the enraged Potions Master's face flush to match his newly tinted hair. Somehow, Harry was not entirely sure that the famous Potter luck was going to come through for him this time.

"WHAT part of don't put the shredded boomslang skin in with the grubblish beans didn't you understand?"

Harry swallowed uncomfortably, noticing for the first time how warm the dark potions classroom could get. "Sorry, Sir."

"Fifty points from Gryffindor! And I want a three foot parchment on the properties of boomslang skin and grubblish beans and the reasons why this--"he pointed to the smoldering remains of his Tranqumore potion--"happened."

Harry heard snickers from the Slytherins and an almost silent groan from Hermione as Professor Snape continued to yell. He flushed even brighter red and, when the Potion's master finished yelling, began to clean up the melted remains of his cauldron. What Harry couldn't understand was that he could have sworn that he had grabbed the anise buds rather than the electric blue grubblish beans. He cast a surreptitious look around the room and caught the silver eye of a smirking, incredibly smug, Malfoy.

Ah. Well, at least I know I am not a complete idiot.

The summer between sixth and seventh year had done Malfoy some good; he was no longer the short, pointed face little boy he had been. Malfoy had grown to a respectable height of 5'11" and, though still built like a seeker, had put on enough muscle for the female population of Hogwarts to call him 'dreamy.' His face had matured and filled out to be an aristocratic and very handsome vision. Harry, who had long since accepted his own loose sexuality, could acknowledge that his third most hated enemy was a very beautiful person. That didn't mean he had to like the snarky little ferret.

Harry flipped Malfoy a rather obscene hand gesture, which the Slytherin graciously returned, and finished disposing of his cauldron. Hermione gave him a sympathetic look as she finished her own, dark green, perfectly brewed Tranqumore Potion. Harry wondered why on earth he had chosen to go into Advanced Potions, even if he did need it for Auror training. Why did he want to be an Auror again? Oh, yes. He remembered. There was a psychopath out to destroy him and every one of the people he cared about. So silly of him to have forgotten.

Harry chuckled humorlessly to himself before forcing his mind off of the unpleasant realities of life. He pasted on a calm, happy-Harry mask and began his extra essay in the last few minutes of class. Hermione gave him a shocked look at his initiative, but seemed not to want to question such a miracle.

The essay was going to be very difficult. Grubblish beans were native to a tiny all-magical island country off of the coast of Greece that was rather anti-social and xenophobic, which essentially meant that very little information existed in English on the magical beans. Nonetheless, the essay was a distraction, and if there was ever something Harry Potter needed, it was a distraction from his life and the headache tingling in the back of his mind.

Draco Malfoy was bored. Very, very bored. And slightly horny, until he glanced to his right and caught sight of the simpering flower batting her eyelashes in his direction.

Pansy again. My god, when is that idiot going to get the message that I don't want to contract a venereal disease?

Harry Potter was not reacting in a satisfactory manner, either. To think, he had gone through all that trouble to switch his potions ingredients, and the boy hadn't even gotten angry at him! This was not acceptable. Draco Malfoy was not losing his touch. He was just... a little off today. Nothing to worry about, just a normal off day.

But why is he ignoring me today? He never lets something that obvious go... he looks cute when he's thinking. WHAT?

Draco Malfoy suddenly had the feeling that even though it was only Monday, this was not going to be his week.

He had no idea just how right he was.

At dinner that night, Harry's headache decided to descend on him with a vengeance. Ron and Hermione snipped loudly over him, but Harry couldn't understand a word they were saying. His goblet of pumpkin juice seemed to be thrown in high relief, and the chicken on his plate seemed to give off a nauseatingly strong scent.

"That is not true, Ronald Weasley!"

"Yes, it is! You write to Krum every day!"

"I do not! I didn't write him yesterday!"

"Okay, so every other day."

"I don't see why you should even care! It's not like he ever did anything to you!"

"Its annoying, it is. And disloyal."

"Disloyal? What--how on earth did you come up with that?"

"He goes to Durmstrang!"

"So? Dumbledore told us that we need to stay together in all this and--"

"Oh, so this is about the good of the wizarding world, is it?"

"Actually, Ron, it--"

"If you two don't shut up about this I am going to scream!"

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry, startled. "Alright, mate?" Ron looked worried. "Is it your scar?"

"No, it's not my bloody scar! You two, can you just get on with it already?"

"What?" Hermione looked confused. "Get on with what?"

"Just go shag already!" With that, the savior of the wizarding world stomped from the Great Hall, leaving two very shocked Gryffindors staring at his retreating form and any where other than at each other.

Severus Snape had never liked the soap operas that characterized teenage emotions. The silliness that came with the sexual frenzy of the upper years had always annoyed him, but he hadn't realized how aggravating teenage love was until Draco Malfoy hit his sixth, and then seventh, years. Now, he constantly had to deal with the heartbroken remains of the wretches that were foolish enough to think that the Slytherin Prince would actually fall in love with them. The blond Adonis had been destined for a different fate than such human ties, but that didn't stop the boy from practicing his reproductive skills.

"But, Professor, he loves me! I know he does, he's just afraid!" Cora Monroe of Ravenclaw was crying rather messily. Snape curled his lip in distaste.

"Miss Monroe, it is rather unlikely that you have any significant insight into the convoluted mind of Mr. Malfoy. Kindly cease your pointless tears and get yourself back to your common room before I deduct house points."

"Please Professor! Please tell me the password!" she gestured wildly to the stone wall entrance to the Slytherin common room. "I know he loves me deep down, I just need to show him that it's okay!"

"Twenty points from Ravenclaw for this disgusting display of disregard for the wishes of Mr. Malfoy. If he wanted you in the common room, he would have invited you in. Now, get out of my dungeons before you force me to reduce your house's points into the negatives."

Snape watched with satisfaction as the blonde girl paled at his harsh tone and fled from the dungeons. His pleased feelings disappeared abruptly as he recalled what the girl had been doing there in the first place.

"Essence of belladonna." Snape entered through the previously solid stone wall and stalked into the lush green common room and up to the elegantly sprawled form of the resident heartbreaker. "Mr. Malfoy, if I have to send another sobbing girl--or boy, as the case has sometimes been--away from the dungeons, there will be consequences. It is not my job to handle such issues, and you are never to bring them to the common room again."

Malfoy smirked slightly. "Sorry, Professor."

"No, you aren't." Malfoy allowed his smirk to widen. "Take them somewhere else to shag them, just keep them away from here!" Snape stalked out of the common room, his robe billowing dramatically around him as he went.

Malfoy kept his smirk on for a few minutes later before gracefully rising from the couch and striding upstairs to his private room. Only when he got there did he allow his face to relax. He had no regrets for dumping Cora, none at all. That wasn't the point. He had known that he could never have a real relationship with her, even if he wanted to, and had gone into the liaison with a keen eye on the pretty girl's well formed body. His time with the girl had not changed his mind about her permanence, but she was an enjoyable diversion. Or was, until she decided that their relationship needed to be taken to the next level, namely that they should go public.

Malfoy snorted. The idea that he, Draconis Lucius Maximilien Malfoy, would have public displays of affection with a Ravenclaw who lacked the necessary bloodlines was ridiculous. None of his friends would believe that he wasn't doing it for some hidden reason, and the rest of Hogwarts would worry whether or not the poor Ravenclaw's life was safe--perhaps they should warn her not to visit any unpopulated areas with men in black masks...

No, Malfoy decided. The diversion that had been Cora Monroe was over. He needed a new fuck buddy, if his horniness in Potions class today was any indication. All he had to do was look for someone he hadn't already been with that passed muster.

Chapter, the Second

Malfoy was annoyed again. He had never thought of Hogwarts as a particularly small school, but as he looked around for someone who met his rather extensive standards, he was forced to acknowledge that his school did not include such a large number of people.

In Slytherin house, those that weren't baboon-like in appearance or weren't, like Pansy, sluts that could cling to someone like a permanent sticking charm, were either closely related to him or were past conquests of his. He had learned by the end of the first quarter in his sixth year not to go for girls that had easy access to his room, but by that time, he had gone through all the worthwhile partners in his own house. Unfortunately, Slytherin house tended to have students at the extremes of looks; there were the few, like him, who were incredibly beautiful, or there were those who looked the evil and twisted part.

The Ravenclaws were sure to be pissed as hell at him after the last three seventh years he had 'dated' had been Ravenclaws--and best friends, too. And Terry Boot had been giving him lascivious looks, so Malfoy decided to steer clear of there until that stalker found someone new to have wet dreams over.

The Hufflepuffs had promise. There was that girl, Hannah Abbot, who was looking better this year, as well as her brunette friend. Draco couldn't remember the friend's name, only that she had a very nice rack.

Gryffindor house, of course, was not really an option. Draco had too many enemies in that house to play with any of its members unless he had a really strong pull towards one of them. However, since Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were old news to him and Seamus Finnigan was probably way too exuberant a boyfriend for him, there weren't really many who caught his interest in that house. A few of the sixth years looked good this year, but all of the hot ones were muggleborns, and Draco had no wish to mingle with them.

Potter's grown up a bit.

Malfoy stiffened when he realized what he had just thought. Okay, fine. He has grown a bit. Still is scruffy and aneroxic. Only now Malfoy knew he was lying to himself. Harry still had the same messy hair, but at this point it looked like it had been styled that way. And since he had gotten rid of those horrible glasses, grown a few inches, and put on a healthy amount of muscle, he had become someone fancyable.

Draco shook himself abruptly out of his contemplations. He must be going crazy.

The next morning, Harry's blinding headache had subsided almost completely. He woke a bit earlier than usual and gathered his things to get a shower before his roommates awoke and hogged the showers. The morning light shone rather obnoxiously cheerful rays directly into his sleepy eyes, and he grumbled as he made his way into the tiled bathroom.

The hot water ran down his leanly muscled back, soothing his aggravation and bringing him smoothly into full awareness. By the time he had finished washing his hair, Harry was in a good mood and whistling cheerfully. He turned off the water and toweled himself down before examining himself in the mirror. His emerald eyes stood out just as much as they had the day before, and even wet, his hair rebelled against the laws of gravity and stuck out every which way. His famous scar was, as it had been the last few days, slightly irritated looking, but not so much as to be noticeable to the casual observer.

"You really should comb your hair, dear." The mirror said dotingly. Harry smiled at the glass and did as the voice asked him before pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

About that time, Ron stumbled in groggily and glared at Harry. "What has you so cheerful at this ungodly hour?"

"Nothing, just in a good mood."

"Humph... well, I can't believe you said that about me and 'Mione last night."

"It's true, though. The sexual tension between you two is driving me nuts." Harry grinned at Ron's reddening face. "Just ask her out, already."

"We're not like that."

"Denial is not just a river in Egypt, Ron."

"Huh?"

"Oh, never mind. Hurry up and get ready, I'm hungry."

Draco Malfoy couldn't get his mind off of Harry Potter. There the boy sat with his two grimy friends at the Gryffindor table, sublimely unaware that he was the object of affection of a good number of the upper years. When Blaise had told him that Potter was the number one most common crush at Hogwarts, Draco had been slightly offended until Blaise had also pointed out that Draco would be number one if he didn't have a reputation as a heartbreaker. Now, it was all that Draco could do to keep his silver eyes away from the black haired boy, and this aggravated the Slytherin to no end.

Perhaps he had a fever. That would explain his strange thoughts about the Boy Who Lived to Annoy. Maybe he should go see Madam Pomfrey for a checkup.

Just as Draco was contemplating whether he had enough time to go to the infirmary before Transfiguration started, the post came in. He looked up for his own owl but instead spotted his father's rather psychotic eagle owl coming towards him. Mordrid snapped at the other birds before landing in front of Draco with a flourish. Draco removed the letter tied to the bird's leg and the animal launched itself off of the table, raking at other owls as it flew away.

Dear Son,

Your mother and I are well and will be visiting you tonight at eight o'clock. Professor Snape has arranged for us to meet in his office for our discussion.

Lucius Malfoy

"A letter from your father?" Blaise asked carelessly as he perused the newpaper.

"Yes." Malfoy answered absently, puzzling over the reason behind his parent's visit. His birthday was in a few days, but that did not explain why they would come for a visit now rather than on the day itself.

That night, Draco arrived at the door to Snape's office at five minutes to eight. He entered at the Potion master's invitation and seated himself in a straight backed chair to wait.

"Professor, do you know what the purpose of this visit is?"

Snape looked up from the papers he was grading. "Yes, but this is a matter to be explained by your father."

Draco fell silent and waited for the arrival of his parents. At precisely eight, the fireplace in the corner whooshed with green flames and Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy exited the floo as though it were the smoothest of flying carpets.

"Hello, Father, Mother. How are you?" Draco was the very essence of courtesy.

"Very well, indeed. We have much to discuss." Narcissa looked a bit pale, but Lucius was very composed. "Draco, there is something that we haven't told you about your bloodline."

Albus Dumbledore was a very old man. Though wizards often lived twice as long as Muggles, two hundred and eleven was still a very advanced age. Usually Dumbledore looked and felt like a spring chicken about thirty years younger than his actual age, but lately that vitality had been in short supply.

The headmaster looked gravely at the tired man in front of him. "You are sure?"

"Yes." Lupin answered. "There is no denying this. If it hasn't already started, it will begin soon."

"And they said for sure that there were seven. Did they give anything else that could narrow down our search?"

"No. Only that they would be powerful and temperamental. And we know that the Council was activated around the end of the first war, so we know the stage of development they should be in."

"What will we need to control them that we don't already have at the school?"

"I would have to check the strength of almost everything. We will need many calming potions And we need to get in touch with this Guardian as soon as possible."

"Were you able to get the spell for that?"

"Yes. It requires an incredible amount of power and participation. At least thirty people."

"Do what you must to get ready for this."

Lupin sighed and left the golden room through a secret door behind Fawkes's roost. Dumbledore stared into space and considered his options. This situation could make or break the Order's fight against the Dark Lord.

"I beg your pardon?" Draco could not believe what his father had just told him.

"You have non human blood in you. From both sides of the family."

"Father, this is not funny."

"Do I look amused?" Lucius hissed at his son. "You have immortal blood in you."

"I'm sorry?"

"Immortal blood. They are not of this realm of existence, but the next. A very long time ago they lived in both our realm and theirs, but a boundary blocks them now. Some fool opened a portal in the seventh century and pulled several into our world. They married into the Malfoy line and the Black line, as well as a few others."

"But... I thought we were pureblooded." Draco was incredibly confused. Why would his father have told him all his life that his blood was bluer than everyone else's if he wasn't even completely human?

"We are better than pureblooded. We are usually referred to as Chimeras and have the best of all blood."

"But I thought we were pureblooded."

Lucius darkened slightly. "Do not repeat yourself again. It's common."

Narcissa sent him a pacifying glance before speaking to her shocked son. "Chimera are very rare and extremely powerful, if, of course, they survive childhood. Most never survive to birth and those that do are often so sickly that they die before the first six months is over. At that point, they become extremely resilient."

"But... I don't understand." Draco was still trying to piece the puzzle together. He was not human, but rather a Chimera, which, by definition, was a made up creature. He had just been able to tell that this week was not going to be pleasant.

"Chimera blood often runs through six or seven generations before it is fully expressed in an individual. We knew of your heritage by the enchanted blood chart that we have never allowed you to see. We felt you should grow up without the pressures of society retarding your growth."

"Oh. I don't know much about Chimera other than that they are feared more than werewolves and vampires." Draco said slowly.

"Some time after your seventeenth birthday, the bulk of your powers will be coming to you. You must be prepared for this. After your powers arrive, you will also begin to search for a life mate."

"I beg your pardon? A life mate?" Suddenly, Draco began to feel a bit nervous. "Not like Veela life mates, though, right?"

"Well, actually, Chimera mates are a bit more extreme in their dependence. There is not a dominant or submissive mate, but rather are equal in the relationship." Narcissa looked uncomfortable. "But like Veelas, you will not have a choice in your mate. Neither sex nor personal feelings affect the choice of bond mate, as Chimera are said to reproduce differently than humans. Little is known about this process."

"So I could end up with some freak and have no choice about it."

Lucius nodded and took control of the explanation. "During the time in which you are gaining your powers, your mind will be expanding and readjusting to allow your powers room. During this time, Draco, you will need to be practicing Occulumency, as your mind will be very vulnerable."

"But about this mate. What does this bond entail?" The idea of being bonded to one person, especially if it were a possessive bond like that of a Veela, was very disconcerting.

"Again, little is known about the process. We know from history that mates tend to be intensely protective and possessive. They also tend to be rather voracious sexually." Lucius wished that this distasteful conversation could be carried on by another, but this was a secret that would be kept securely in the family, excepting Severus, who would be helping Draco through the process. "And the mate is found in one of three groups of people: other Chimeras, wizards with Chimera blood in their families, and Muggles."

"Muggles!?"

"Yes. It unfortunately is entirely possible, and because of the rarity of Chimeras and Chimera blood, it is rather likely that you will be married to a muggle."

Draco Malfoy went sheet white before crashing to the floor in a dead faint.

That bloody headache was back. Harry was having trouble concentrating on Professor Sprout's lecture on the care of a rather poisonous looking flower that kept trying to bite the witch's fingers as she showed the students the proper way to prune it. There was a tingling in the back of his mind that was irritating and felt like someone was ringing a very small bell a long distance away. Harry wasn't sure, but he thought he kept seeing metallic flashes in the corners of his eyes, which probably wasn't a good sign.

Hermione noticed his wandering gaze and nudged him sharply with her elbow to gain his attention. "This is important, Harry, so pay attention because I am not going to let you copy my essay about the Tentamula flower." She hissed at him.

Harry tried to pull his mind back to the lesson, but it quickly slipped his hold and drifted off towards the castle. He wondered what his good friend Voldemort was doing just then. Did Voldemort sleep during the day, like a bat? He remembered science classes from his elementary school and wondered whether wizards needed to go into the sun for vitamin D, or whether they had some sort of spell to produce the essential vitamin. Somehow, Harry couldn't picture Voldemort strolling through the sunlight, which then brought the image of the Dark Lord in swimming trunks at the beach. Swiftly following that image was one of Voldemort and Company in matching black speedos. Harry snorted, but then regretted it as a flash of bronze to his right appeared, startling him into whipping his face around. The light had vanished from around his Herbology professor, but the violent movement had made his head pound alarmingly for a moment.

Suddenly he realized that the entire class was staring at him.

"What?"

"Mr. Potter, are you alright?" Professor Sprout looked a bit worried.

"Um... yes, Professor, just a headache. Sorry."

"Well, then. Moving on. The pollen of the Tentamula flower is rather explosive, so when you need to collect it, you need to insure that you have the right tools."

Harry zoned out of the lecture again and returned to his world of inane thoughts and flashes of color.

Chapter the Third

Malfoy felt ill. He wasn't sure what was going on, but at two thirty-seven on the morning of his seventeenth birthday, he woke up knowing that something was wrong. His head was pounding in a disconcerting way, and for some reason, he could feel Blaise's thoughts even though Blaise was in a different room. The other boy was having a wet dream about someone--wait... I recognize that hair.

"AHHHHHHH!" Draco fell out of his gigantic bed and wished for death. Blaise is not... he would never... he couldn't possibly be dreaming about Weasel that way. It's not possible. This isn't happening... oh, Merlin! Wake up from this nightmare already!

Suddenly, Draco realized that he wasn't watching Blaise's dream anymore. It was, in fact, more disturbing than that. He watched, horrified, as Crabbe dreamed longingly of making out with Argus Filch. Draco whimpered and crawled in a ball under the bed in an attempt to protect himself from the dreams before shoving the images out of his head with a push of his hard-learned Occulumency skills. Panting with the effort, he crawled out from under the bed before making his staggering way to Snape's private quarters.

"Stripped Vituperative Viper." The tapestry hiding the door to Snape's quarters dissolved into an oak door through which Draco entered the plush apartment. "Professor? I think the Chimera process has begun."

Snape strode out of his bedroom almost immediately wrapped in a black dressing gown. The man looked as alert and sour as usual even at this time in the morning. "How do you feel?"

"Headache. And I found myself in the... er... disturbing dreams of my house mates."

"Yes, your mind will be very open to the thoughts and probes of others. Any problems with your Occulumency skills?"

"It took a great deal more effort to push the dreams out than it normally would. Is that going to continue, or is it just because my mind is readjusting?"

"It is impossible to tell at this point. You may have powers that tend towards mind magic, but we will not be able to tell until the end of the process." Snape moved forward and began checking Draco's pupils.

"How long do you think that will be?"

Snape stepped back, looking uncomfortable. "Until you find and bond to a mate, your powers will not settle down, though they will probably stop growing within a month or so. Chances are that finding your mate will take quite a while."

"How will I know if I actually spot my mate?" Draco was picturing the Veela way, in which the mate began to glow ethereally whenever the Veela was nearby.

"Lust."

"Pardon?" Draco was slightly disturbed at the word coming from his godfather. It brought unwelcome images to Draco's already abused mind.

"Chimeras and their mates tend to constantly act like teenage boys in their fantasies." Draco's feeling of wrongness increased. This was not a conversation he particularly wanted to have with his professor.

Hmmm... fantasies. I wonder what Potter fantasizes about. Draco was again horrified by his own thoughts. I DO NOT want to know what Potter fantasizes about. He probably dreams about a threesome with Weasel and the Mudblood. Malfoy shuddered as the thought prompted the image of Blaise's dream. It was definitely time to get to sleep.

The good news was that the metallic flashes that had so annoyed him were gone. The bad news was that now everyone was surrounded by metallic auras. Harry had never seen anything as distracting in his life as he watched Hermione's bright green aura fight with Ron's light orange one. The two colors pushed at each other and kept trying to mix, which distracted Harry from what the two were saying. He realized suddenly that they were looking questioningly at him.

"What? Sorry, wasn't listening."

"I said, are you ok, mate? You look kind of peaky."

"Um. Yes, I'm fine. Just, well, just tired." And going mad he added silently.

"Oh, ok. Well, we have to go to Potions now or we'll be late. Are you finished with your breakfast?" Hermione eyed the waffles Harry had drowned in syrup and then systematically destroyed with his fork.

"Yeah. Let's go." Harry was nauseous again. He dreaded working with the smelly potions ingredients, but knew that skipping class was not an option. Ever since he and Snape had grudgingly finished Occulumency lessons, Snape had expected him to act like he had gotten something out of their 'remedial potions' sessions. That meant that Harry was to show up and do his potions right, which he did, most of the time at least.

As he and Hermione walked out of the Great Hall, they passed the Slytherin table. Harry's head lifted as he caught hold of the first scent that didn't make him nauseous that day. He stopped and looked to the source of the smell. Malfoy sat in his usual place among his adoring friends, but slightly drawn away from both Zambini and Crabbe. His perfect blonde locks framed his pale face, and the well cut robes outlined a very fit body. And for an inexplicable reason, Harry was suddenly hit by a surprising wave of lust. He turned away quickly to hid his teenage body's reaction and hurried after Hermione, not noticing the startled silver eyes that followed his progress from the room.

In the potions classroom, Harry tried to convince his excited body that it needed to reject whatever drugs it was on and get over its obsession with Malfoy's rather well formed biceps--no, he had to stop this train of thought. Harry was beginning to really worry about himself. Should he go to Dumbledore about this? As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he felt an immediate aversion to the idea. No, he decided, I am tired of having to go to Dumbledore for everything. It's not like he would tell me anything worthwhile anyway.

The Slytherins swaggered into the class just as the bell rang, and Harry's groin tightened as Malfoy smirked at him in passing.

Bubbotuber pus. Blast ended skrewts. Percy Weasley. Voldemort in a Speedo. Harry tried to think of the most distasteful things possible to get his mind out of the gutter. Snape in a Speedo. Oh, ick!

Snape himself swooped into the classroom just then and waved the day's instructions onto the blackboard. "You may begin." He said with a sneer at the lone pair of Gryffindors in his advanced class. The rest were Slytherins and Ravenclaws.

Harry gathered his ingredients and discovered a foolproof way to get his body off of the topic of Malfoy's arse. The smells radiating from the potions ingredients were turning him slightly green. The metallic auras were getting brighter as well. He noticed dimly that his own aura was gold, as was Malfoy's, that Zambini's was navy blue, and that Snape's was a dark forest green with an ugly dried blood-colored smear on it. I suppose that's from the Dark Mark.

Thinking about the Dark Mark made him think of the Death Eaters. He suddenly wondered whether he could tell who kissed Voldemort's robes through their aura. He glanced around surreptitiously, but did not see any other smears like the one on Snape's aura. That's a relief. At least I don't have any other true Death Eaters here to worry about.

Suddenly, Harry regretted his thoughts about the Dark Lord. Pain that was unimaginable in its intensity slammed into his head through his scar. Harry barely pushed out a chocked scream as the pain blasted his mind apart and pulled him into an abyss filled with screaming and blood and pain and death before going completely black.

Draco was startled beyond thought when he had been caught in the emerald green scopes of his rival. Lust slammed into his body, hardening him rather abruptly and shocking him into stupefied silence just long enough for Blaise to look at him questioningly. Potter had then fled, and Draco worked to pull his attention back to his friends. He dropped his normal Malfoy-mask into place but was shaken behind it.

"Draco, are you alright? You looked strange there for a moment."

"Yes, of course I'm fine. What were you saying?"

Blaise looked uncertain, but continued. "Well, the Gryffindors are really strong this year in the offence and the seeker positions, of course, but I think that the Weasel's still our best shot. The beaters aren't great, so that leaves him pretty unprotected. If we go for--"

Draco tuned his friend out to worry over this response to Potter. He had been having strange thoughts about the boy, but surely the fates wouldn't pair him with someone like that. The Bloody Boy Who Wouldn't Kick The Bucket would be worse to deal with as a mate then a Muggle, and that was saying something!

Suddenly, he realized what time it was. "Come on, we'll be late to Potions, not that it matters." He strode rather dramatically out of the Hall, his friends and bodyguards following behind him.

As he mixed his powdered scarab beetles and the diluted hinkpunk spittle, Draco concentrated on the lean back of the green-eyed Gryffindor that seemed to be the cause of his unfortunate hard-on. He wondered suddenly whether Potter had gotten Chimera blood through his mother or his father, if of course, he was actually Draco's mate. The idea was distasteful in theory, but Draco's body was very interested in the actual practice.

When Draco got the mental image of Harry--Potter--groaning under him, he decided he really needed a distraction. Before he could come up with something, however, the Golden Boy's head came up and his emerald eyes began surveying the room under the cover of thick, black eyelashes.

Draco had the urge to trace the line of Harry's jaw to the pulse point that would be pounding for him and him alone. He wondered whether Harry wore boxers or briefs. Perhaps he went commando? Draco's groin tightened even more at the thought.

Then the object of Draco's lust stiffened. Harry shot out of his seat with a strangled scream, knocking over his chair and table, before slamming to the floor, blood pouring out of the famous scar on his forehead. Harry screamed and writhed, yelling random words and phrases frantically.

"No! Help her god don't just stand there what is wrong with you people what the hell is your problem how could you do this why this is not my fault I didn't mean to it wasn't me please don't god help her no please no don't" he finished with another loud scream, his body convulsing and blood pouring over his face.

Snape pushed through his shocked students as he dug a vial from his pocket and Granger grabbed Harry's head to keep it from slamming against the ground as he convulsed. The two worked together in a way that surprised all the students to force a potion down the boy's throat. They forced Harry to swallow the blue potion and after a long moment, he went abruptly still.

There was a shocked silence in the room that Granger finally broke with a sob as she wiped at the blood that covered Harry's face and was spreading in a pool over the floor. The door to the potions lab crashed open and Weasley sprinted in, followed by Dumbledore and a white-faced Madam Pomfrey. Weasley dropped to his knees next to Granger but made room for the medi-witch to get the prone boy. Dumbledore, Snape, and the conscious members of the Gryffindor dream team waited pale faced for Pomfrey's prognosis. Draco suddenly found himself on the edge of panic and hyperventilation. He gripped his desk with white-knuckled hands.

"We may have a problem."

Draco heard the words and promptly fainted dead away.