Chapter Text
Draco’s lived in the Slytherin dorms for three-quarters of the year since he was eleven. It should feel like home. And it does, in a way, but it also doesn’t. The common room hasn’t changed at all, except that everyone has moved up a year in the hierarchy of seniority. Theoretically, he’s moved up in the hierarchy both because he’s now a fifth year and because he made prefect, but neither of those will matter much if his housemates find out he’s a submissive.
No one knows, and no one’s going to know any time soon, but the idea worries him. There’s no way for anyone to find out, really. Blaise would never tell anyone, and Draco’s family hasn’t said anything — not out of shame, mind, but for his privacy. He’d like to think that none of Hadrian’s friends — because the devil twins know, of course — would out him either.
Submissives are generally looked down upon by wizarding society. Purebloods respect inheritances and mateships, of course, but that doesn’t mean that they think submissives are equal . Even though submissives are blessed by Lady Magic in receiving an inheritance the same as any dominant or anyone with a magical inheritance, it’s seen as a blessing for their family and their dominant, not for the submissive themself. Submissives are seen as little more than child-bearers and still widely considered their dominant’s “property.” It’s all very old-fashioned. Honestly, Draco thought less of submissives too, before he inherited. He didn’t think they were subhuman, like some people treat them, but he grew up in a world that looks down upon them. Now he is a submissive, and he knows that while he is different than he was before his inheritance, with new instincts and the like, he isn’t any less of his own person than he was before.
All that is to say, he feels nervous that someone will figure out his status, somehow, and his standing within his house will plummet. He’s always felt like he belonged in Slytherin before. It felt like the perfect place for him, where he fit in and knew he would do well. Now, though, he feels like his place here is precarious. For all that Slytherin is the snake house, his housemates are more like sharks sometimes. They can smell blood a mile away — he learned that one from Hadrian — and are likely to pounce on it, especially if they think it gives them an advantage.
Draco keeps his head high and slips the same mask onto his face he used before. He’s not that different. All he has to do is act like he normally does and no one will know the difference. It can’t be too hard. Besides, Blaise will always have his back if he needs it.
As soon as he reasonably can, Draco retreats to the room he shares with Blaise and Theo. Because they were born during the war, they have a pretty small class. There are only forty people in their year total, while his dad’s year had more than double that. Still, the Slytherin dorms are arranged with two shared bedrooms with a connecting bathroom, and no one ever wants to share a bathroom with younger students, so each set of rooms is assigned to one year, even when there are only five boys to two rooms. Draco’s dad said that when he was at Hogwarts, each year usually had two sets of rooms with about ten students per set. He’s glad to be part of a smaller year, sometimes, because it means more privacy and less queueing up for the showers.
The train was on a Friday this year, so Draco has the weekend to relax and catch up with his housemates before classess start. He does get to see Hadrian, but only in passing, which is disappointing.
Monday morning, Draco receives a note with his schedule asking him to stop by the hospital wing when he has a chance. It doesn’t say why Madam Pomphrey wants to see him, and it doesn’t seem urgent. Honestly, he’s a bit confused, but he makes his way up to check during his first free period.
There are two other students in the hospital wing when he steps inside. Well, he assumes there are two. There’s one student sitting calmly on the end of one bed — a Ravenclaw — and another bed with the curtains pulled around it. “Madam Pomphrey will be out in a minute. If it’s not urgent, you can probably take a seat,” the boy says.
Draco doesn’t say anything, just nods once. He also does not sit, because the only place to sit would be on one of the beds. He could pull out one of the guest chairs, he supposes, but he doesn’t want to move anything around and he doesn’t even know if he’ll be waiting long enough to be worth the effort. He’s been standing there for just over two minutes when the bed curtains open. Madam Pomphrey steps out and Draco sees that Prichard, one of the second-year Slytherins, is in the bed. He feels like he should check on the kid as a prefect, but it would likely be an invasion of privacy to ask why he’s in the hospital wing. And also, it doesn’t match his outside-of-Slytherin persona at all. He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels a need to check on the kid, but he can do it later, when they don’t have an audience.
“Oh, Mr Malfoy,” Madam Pomphrey says. “You’re here. Good. Mr Carmichael, would you be alright with waiting while I speak with Mr Malfoy?”
HCarmichaele shrugs. “Sure. I’m not in a rush.”
Draco follows Madam Pomphrey into her office at her beckoning and sits in the chair in front of her desk. They sit there in uncomfortable silence for a moment — at least, it’s uncomfortable for Draco — before Madam Pomphrey speaks.
“Now, dear, your parents informed me that you came into a creature inheritance this summer,” she says, and Draco just blinks at her. The thought of ‘ why would they do that? ’ must be clear on his face because she soon continues. “They are required to. It’s school policy. Your inheritence is private information, of course, but as the school healer I need to know about anything that might affect your health. And of course, since I am bound by patient confidentiality, it also makes the most sense for me to be the one member of staff who is aware of all of the mateships and creature statuses of Hogwarts students.” She gives him a few seconds to let that sink in and waits for him to nod his understanding before she continues. “Now, your mother’s letter did mention that you are a submissive, but it did not mention your mateship status. Have you already found your mate?”
“Yes,” Draco says, and he can feel his cheeks heat up from talking about this. He’s sure Madam Pomphrey can see his blush, considering how easily he turns pink, but she doesn’t react to it.
“Good. And who would your mate be?”
Draco looks down at his hands in his lap. “Hadrian Potter,” he says, glancing up through his eyelashes to see her reaction.
Now it’s Pomphrey’s turn to blink silently at him. Then she seemingly shakes off her surprise and moves on, making a note on the parchment in front of her. “How is that going? Any issues?”
Draco shakes his head. “Hadrian is good to me. We’re courting.”
“And what stage of mateship are you currently in?”
“Gallanting,” he says. There isn’t an official transition between sparking and gallanting like there is for all the stages afterward, but that’s where he considers them to be. It’s certainly how Hadrian acts: giving him the bracelet, getting to know Blaise, and taking him to the museum because he likes art.
The healer nods and writes something down. “You’re not feeling the pull to submit yet?”
Draco can feel his cheeks burning hotter and mentally curses his pale skin, along with the way talking about Hadrian always cuts right through his defences. In normal circumstances, he has a pretty good pureblood mask. “No,” he denies, though he knows that’s not completely true. It is starting, not that he realised it before his talk with Remus, but it’s not very strong yet. “You don’t have to give me the ‘submission is important and natural’ talk. I already got it from Remus… Professor Lupin.” Draco really needs to get used to calling his mate’s family by last names and titles again, since they are keeping their mateship quiet for now.
Pomphrey smiles at that. “I’m sure you have the information you need, then, but I still think it’s important to reiterate a few things. Firstly, make sure you talk to your dom before anything happens; you will likely both feel better about it that way. And second, remember that you can’t deny the need for submission. If you try to deny it for too long, you could end up in a state where you are highly suggestable, or where you are flooded with negative emotions.”
Draco nods to show his understanding.
“Good. Now, I know you aren’t there yet, but once you are further along in your mateship, fully mated or nearly there, you will be able to move into one of our mateship and marriage suites. I will also add Mr Potter to the list of students I need to talk to. I also want to assure you that, excluding emergency situations, patient confidentiality does include your dom, and I will not share any of your information with him without your express permission.”
“Okay. Thank you.” He’s surprised by that, but less surprised than he would have been a month ago. Remus offered him the same assurance, though it wasn’t backed by something official like patient confidentiality. He’s pretty sure that, legally, patient confidentiality doesn’t apply to a submissive’s dom but he appreciates it all the more for that. Even if he still has trouble trusting it.
“Of course, Mr Malfoy. That’s all I need from you, so you are free to go.”