Title: Mating with a Dragon

Pairing:Harry/Draco

Rating: R

Summary: Harry let's Draco stake his claim on him after a brief encounter leaves him plagued with dreams of the man.

Warnings: creature!fic

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling and publishers. No offense is meant by this fan fiction and this is made purely for fun.

Word Count: ~1000

While on an Auror case Harry comes across a wild, changing Draco Malfoy in the Forbidden Forest. He immediately feels a strong pull towards the man and the suddenness of it causes him to let Malfoy get away, despite him being the source of complaints from Hogsmeade station. The reports they were going off of were conflicting and some people reported a man roaming the forests, while others a beast. His encounter let him know that in some ways it was both.

Now, Harry can't locate the man, and he can't seem to forget about him either. His nights are plagued with dreams of pale skin and pearl white hair and he wakes up yearning for release and for penetration, aching for it really. He dreams of kisses and of touches. He dreams of another body connecting with his own. He dreams of Malfoy.

A month after the incident Harry is tired from his restless nights. No one knows where the man is and even Lucius and Narcissa are clueless, if the way they begged for Harry's help was any indication. He comes home to find the man awaiting him. Harry isn't sure how he made it past the wards.

Malfoy's different, changed, stable. He has scales glimmering on his face, neck and hands, his ears are pointed, canines extended and nails sharp. He's leaner, more fluid; his voice has an odd echoing sort of timbre. Harry isn't sure what could have changed Malfoy like this but then again he was an Auror, not a Magizoologist.

He can't believe that the man is actually there.

His body is on alert and his skin aches to be touched. He wants Malfoy to take him, to claim him, to ease his need to be filled so he can be rid of his bloody frustrating, teasing dreams. And Malfoy does. He claims Harry's lips in a sudden, fluid movement and before Harry knows it he's being hoisted up and carried to the bedroom. His clothes are ripped off and Malfoy shrugs out of his robes, nothing else underneath. The man kisses and licks and nips at him as hands roam Harry's body and claws skim lightly over skin. Harry's legs spread of their own accord and he's trembling with desire, with need. His cock aches and his heart races.

With a quick motion Malfoy casts a lubrication charm and Harry rolls his hips muttering at the man to take him, to have him, to fill him. Malfoy does. He presses into Harry slow and sure and Harry can't help the way his body arches, the way his jaw hangs slack or the moan that gets pulled from his lungs. Malfoy is wonderful, Malfoy is brilliant, Malfoy is in him and around him and everything tilts into place as if he had been missing something but did not know it. That something blazes to life and he can't stop watching those grey eyes above him, eyes that pierce him, eyes that glimmer, eyes that remind him of a dragon.

Malfoy, no, Draco, moves and Harry holds tightly onto strong shoulders. His white haired dragon rolls and pumps into him and then suddenly Harry's being fucked hard and fast. He loves it, he wants it. Draco is taking him, claiming him and Harry's dripping hot on his stomach from arousal, from pleasure, from the way his prostate is being brilliantly, mercilessly hammered. He's moaning and whimpering and clawing at Draco's back. Their foreheads are pressed together and all Harry can smell is his lover and their arousal. All he can hear are their moans and the sounds of their fucking, their courting, their mating.

He nearly complains when those eyes move away from him but lips quickly touch his neck in wonderful places. Draco is relentless in his thrusting and Harry knows he can't keep up with the speed or the force anymore. It's animalistic, it's frantic, it's beyond his own body's capability. He does not mind though. Let Draco fuck him raw. Let Draco pound him into the mattress. He's in ecstasy and he doesn't care.

Something like a rumble reverberates from Draco and Harry whimpers at the way it moves through him. His head is pushed to one side, baring his neck, and he knows what's going to happen before it does. His legs tremble and a shiver runs up his spine. It's not fear though. It's anticipation. Teeth pierce his neck and he has no idea how to describe what he's feeling. An intense spike of pleasure moves from the bite to his core, every inch of him that Draco's touching ignites with a burning pleasure and he isn't sure if he can handle it all. Draco's teeth clamp down hard and Harry's head reels at the pleasure and the sharpness and something indefinable. He's arching once again and his body trembles from an overload of sensations and the tension in his muscles. His orgasm is ripped out of him and it's so intense that tears stream down his face and he lets out something between a moan and a sob, loud and uninhibited.

Tremors still rack his body when Draco climaxes not even four thrusts later. The man's teeth pull out of Harry's neck as he moans, low and guttural. A tongue swipes the bite haphazardly as Draco tenses inside of him and Harry swears he can see the man changing, can feel it. Draco has more scales, smooth and resembling porcelain with flecks of blue, his eyes are slit and his features are sharper, more piercing. Harry isn't sure if the cock inside of him has more length, more girth. All he knows is it's pumping him full of Draco, of heat, of fire.

They buck as their bodies ride out their pleasure and Harry watches as white wings envelope him. Draco might have a tail as well but he isn't sure. When their orgasms finally subside Harry is tired and his body is exhausted, strained from their copulating. There's a soft, soothing hum between him and Draco and he smiles when the man kisses him. He returns the favour and were his muscles able to respond he would have delightedly clenched around the cock that was softening inside of him. He would be sore later but he didn't quite care. He tried to keep up the nuzzling and the light kisses that they had going but sleep was pulling at him.

"Sleep, my mate," Draco whispers. "Harry."

And he does.