This started as a oneshot, titled It'll be Okay, but it seems that quite a few of you wanted it to become a full-fledged story- so here it is!

Disclaimer: Not Mine

Warnings: This is Slash. That means boyxboy. gayyyy. kay? Don't like, don't read. No flames please.

Harry ran his fingers through his mop of hair, frustrated.

Last year, his godfather had died, and he had at first blamed himself.

He was passed that now.

He moved on to blaming Snape, then he thought better of it.

Dumbledore.

It was his fault.

If that manipulative old coot hadn't kept the prophecy from him, and kept Sirius in that stupid house, he wouldn't be in this mess.

He knew Dumbledore had the power to free Sirius, but that would have taken him out from under his thumb.

Dumbledore was the one who deserved the blame, Harry was certain of that.

"Dobby!" he called, snapping his fingers.

The shabby house-elf appeared, bowing low.

"Master Harry Potter, sirs. You is calling Dobby sirs? Dobby's be doings anything the great Harry Potter wishes, sir."

"Any updates on Dumbledore?"

Dobby nodded excitedly.

"Dumbles has found out that Masters Draco has been ordered to kills him, Master Harry, and he told the potions master to helps him sirs. He is ready to die, sirs. He has tolds the dark man about the soul pieces sirs."

Harry nodded, dropping heavily on the bed. He had to get Draco out of that. The boy was a prat, yes, but he wasn't a killer. He felt the odd need to shelter the boy from all danger, but he blamed that on his 'saving people thing,' shoving it aside for later.

"And the horcruxes? Do you know where the Slytherin horcrux is?"

"It has been founded sirs. It's at Grimmauld."

Harry nodded.

"I want to be taken there," he said with conviction, "after tonight of course. It is my birthday, and I would rather not deal with ol' Voldy until tomorrow."

"Of course, Master Harrys sirs."

Harry smiled, sending Dobby off.

"Master Harry Potter sirs?"

"Yes, Dobby?"

"Your magic, sirs. It is growing."

Harry stood, twisting his back. It seemed to be feeling inflamed today for some reason.

"Really? That might be my inheritance coming in."

"No sirs," squeaked Dobby, "Yous is a creature sirs! There is too much magic for a wizard!"

Harry gasped as pain wracked through his back, making him arch in agony.

"Dobby! Do something! It hurts!"

"Dobbys can't do anything, Masters. I is not allowed to act in a Dominants inheritance. Your mate is the only one that cans."

"Mate? Who is my mate, Dobby?"

But suddenly, Harry knew. His vision blacked out and he could see only one face, an innocent white against the darkness of his life.

"Draco," he whispered, his vision clearing though his glasses laid broken on the floor, "Draco Malfoy. My mate."

-The Next Day-

Harry held the locket up, grimacing as the stench of dark magic reached him.

"Get me the sword of Gryffindor."

The sword was placed in his hand and he breathed deep, pushing away all his worries about his new inheritance and his mate and Dumbledore's manipulations to focus on one thing. Destroying this horcux.

"Open," he hissed.

The locket snapped open, a black mass pouring from it.

The mass formed Sirius, falling through the veil, then Draco. Draco looked at him with wide eyes.

"You're supposed to protect me," the form of Draco told him, "Yet you leave me in the hands of the enemy. You care nothing for me. How can I trust you, Harry Potter? You wouldn't even shake my hand. How can I accept you, when you only rejected me?"

Harry brought the sword down with a clang, staring blankly at Dobby.

"Will Draco be able to forgive me?"

Dobby nodded.

"Dracos will loves you, sirs, you shouldn't listen to the bad smokes."

Harry nodded in hesitant agreement, apparating back to Number 4.

Hogwarts was soon upon him, and he decided it would be for the best if he stayed low. He researched, keeping an eye on his mate, making sure Draco was okay as he searched for horcuxes. Harry found the diadem, killing it in the Room of Requirement. Draco had been spending a lot of time in that room, and only seemed to get more and more frustrated each time he left.

He grew more fond of him every time he laid eyes on the boy, and more worried over how drawn his face was becoming.

Harry longed to take the boy into his arms, but he couldn't. Not yet.

The other boy hadn't come into his inheritance yet, so he would not have a mate mark. He would not have proof that Harry was his mate.

Harry smiled, tracing his own mark with his finger.

He could be patient.

But as the days dragged on, he found that harder and harder to do.

On the day he knew was Draco's birthday, he marched to Dumbledore's office.

TBC