How could he do this? How could he tell the world before Harry, his own husband? It was Harry's life, too! Did Draco just expect him to follow blindly like a dog? Harry stomped through the main hall and down a corridor.
Of course he did! Draco thought that Harry would do and say anything Draco told him. It was Draco's career that was first, Draco's decisions that were followed. Harry was just along for the ride and was expected to like it! Well, Monsieur Supero was going to be sadly mistaken if he thought this sub was going to uproot to the wilds of Canada!
As Harry passed the gallery, he was overcome with the sense that he needed to be calm and stop being angry. He came to a standstill. Following his nose, he pushed open the slightly ajar door. The room was lined with portraits of past Malfoys, all of them with haughty arrogant expressions, looking down their noses at the lone occupant of the room. In the dim light, Harry saw russet-coloured hair on top of wide shoulders on a tall figure. The man's back was to him, but as soon as he took several steps into the room, the figure turned. Deep brown eyes smiled at him. The face was broad and open. Very tan, with a wide nose to match the large eyes. The mouth was also wide with thin lips. He looked to be in his early thirties. All in all, a handsome man, in a very rugged way. Harry only glanced at those eyes before he dropped them and waited.
"Ah, I thought I sensed you." The voice was very deep and accented with a slow drawl. "I'm surprised you're here alone. But I'm glad for the opportunity to meet you."
The man stepped closer until he was able to reach out a hand and press it against Harry's cheek. The hands were rough with calluses, but gentle as they petted Harry's face.
"My name is Daniel Muroch, and I am very happy to meet you, Harry." The hand moved down to his throat.
"Strange, I've only smelled one other and she was so old it wasn't much of anything. Strange."
Harry was confused. He knew he should be pleasing this man, yet he wasn't one of Harry's Superos. He smelled different. His young may be in danger.
"Now see here, young man, you will not besmirch the Malfoy name by allowing yourself to be pawed at by a savage!" A Malfoy from the sixteenth century sneered down at Harry, but was ignored by both men.
"Don't be afraid, Harry. I have no intention of hurting you." The man smiled again and ran his fingers through Harry's dark locks.
The gesture was comforting and the brunet instinctively moved into the caress. The man smiled wider. "I've traveled a long way to see you, you know." The hand moved down until it rested about his throat again, the thumb running over Harry's Adam's apple. "And now you are breeding. Who filled your belly? The guy you married or the teacher?"
"Draco is the father, Mr. Muroch."
"Ah," Muroch said, nodding his head in thought. His head tilted up and he looked over Harry's head towards the open door. "Our kin are here."
The door was forcefully opened wider, causing it to slam into the wall, but Harry stayed where he was, leaning into the other man's caresses.
"Harry, get over here," Draco called. Harry heard the anger in the blond's voice, but wasn't sure what to do.
"We were only talking, Mr. Malfoy. I wouldn't be so rude as to accost your husband at your anniversary party," Muroch said with a laugh. He took his hand away from Harry's throat with an apologetic shrug. "I haven't met a subicio young enough to create that scent. I may have been a bit forward but not completely improper."
"Then I suggest you back away from him or you will be challenging another Supero for breeding rights." That was Snape's voice, smooth and dark. "You are not part of us."
