Title: The Taming of a Dragon

Prompt/Challenge: My beta, CleopatraIsMyName, challenged me to write it. Challenge, accepted.

Beta: CleopatraIsMyName

Warning(s): Total AU. HPDM slash, bottom!Draco, OC, courtship, total fluff, OOC, and BZ/NL.

Characters/Pairings: Harry/Draco, with side Blaise/Neville. Regular characters may appear.

Summary: AU. Due to an ancient law put into place long ago, the first-born must always marry before any siblings. Which is the predicament Blaise and Neville find themselves in. Draco, being Draco, is too cold and arrogant to find a suitable partner, though Blaise is all set to marry Neville. A plan is devised...

"My Lord," a quiet voice greeted, bowing deeply towards the other before him. When he brought his head back up, it was as graceful as you would expect a swan.

"Yes?" a deeper, chocolate-silk voice rumbled, a single brow arched in expectation.

"He's here."

Then quite suddenly, the young lord threw his head back and laughed, dulcet tones bouncing off the walls of the corridor.

"Take me to him, Neville," he smiled. "I want a quick word with him."

The brunet chuckled, and then pressed a kiss upon the other young man's cheek. With a turn of his heel, he led the lord over to the meeting chamber.

It didn't take very long before the young lord and his consort found themselves face-to-back with the young man that Neville had spent weeks trying to contact.

The lithe figure drifted over to a shelf of books, thoughtfully skimming the spines until he pulled out a single volume of The Specialized Arts of Divinity.

Neville grinned inwardly. That book was, in fact, another's favorite text to read. The entire set, as it was.

Slowly, the young man turned towards the center of the room. So intent on the pages of the book was he that he hadn't seemed to notice the two teens standing near the doors.

He had made it half-way to the couch before his lord whistled for attention.

His head sprang up, dropping the book in the process. His reflexes allowed him to scramble after the book. Of course, by the fourth time it had been accidentally pushed by a limb, the book fell to the tiled floor.

He winced, and then turned his face up to glare at the both of them, clutching the book in his fist.

"Really, you couldn't have knocked? Or announced your entrance in some way?"

Blaise openly laughed, "Yeah, he's definitely the one."

Neville nodded his head in agreement, smiling beatifically at the man.

"Oh, well," the young man shrugged, nonplussed by the vague answer he'd received. He leaned over to pick up the book and put it back on the shelf, caressing the spine.

Taking a seat on the couch, the raven-haired young man motioned for the two to come towards him. It was as if he was the one who'd called the meeting, and not the other way around.

"Now," he started, looking between Lord Blaise Malfoy and his consort, Neville Longbottom. "What is it that you wanted an audience for, my Lord, consort?"

Blaise wrapped an arm around Neville's shoulders, tugging the younger man against him. "Well, you see, Draco needs to get married."

"The Lord Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes," Blaise said.

"The cold, arrogant one that no one likes?"

Neville opened his mouth to respond, and then quickly shut it.

"Hey," Blaise whined. "Yeah, he's mean. But he's my brother."

"Okay," the young raven-haired man shrugged. "But what is that to do with me?"

"We were wondering if you would... possibly date him?"

The man laughed and shook his head, "Seriously," he said, once his laughter had ceased. "What do you want?"

Neville and Blaise just looked at each other, then back at the young man.

One, two...

"Wait," he sputtered, "me?"

They nodded in synchronization. Neville, more than Blaise, braced himself for a screaming fit. After living with a temperamental blond for years, Blaise had no need to follow Neville in the actions. He just sat there, patiently waiting for the temper to be unleashed.

The younger man before them looked down at his hands, pondering the request.

No one had actually seen the lord in years, ever since he had stopped appearing in public. But rumors spread and festered.

And there were rumors. Tons of them. Like a wildfire, everyone in this side of world had heard about his terrible temper and harsh words. Lord Malfoy was said to be a little spit-fire, and he couldn't believe he was seriously considering this... but he was intrigued. Maybe there was more to that cold-exterior than what seemed?

Raising his head, he sighed, massaged the bridge of his nose, and finally said, "Okay."

As Lord Blaise and his consort stood up and cheered, Harry Potter's only thought was, 'What had he just agreed to?'