Chapter 1
Puffs of smoke blew into the twilight air as Harry sat down in his compartment once more, a licorice wand in hand from the trolley. He bit into it contentedly while he flipped through a hand-me-down book of Dudley's. It wasn't very interesting, but to be fair, what about the Dursleys was?
He gave up after the fourth chapter. Something about a girl and a boy and a bridge. How funny that he should find tales of "magic and adventure" so boring and mundane now in comparison to what magic was really like.
"How much longer until we get to the damn station?" Ron asked irritably from Harry's right. Hermione looked up over the top of her copy of the Potions textbook and paused for a moment.
"Well, we left the station about three hours ago, so I would say maybe another hour or two?" She responded absentmindedly.
Ron huffed loudly and slumped lower in his seat.
"Cheer up," Harry said jokingly. "At least when we get there you can stuff your face with chicken again. If I didn't know better, I would call it a tradition."
"Oh, shut up," Ron retorted, but a faint smirk decorated his face. Hermione dove back into her book and was immediately absorbed into its pages. Harry couldn't fathom why she would willingly subject herself to studying before they were even assigned anything to study in the first place.
The sound of knuckles tapping on the glass pane of the door caused the three to turn, Hermione somewhat irritably. Harry suspected she didn't like to be interrupted again.
Neville poked his head inside the compartment. He allowed a small wave to his friends before asking, "Sorry to bother you, but have you seen my spare robes? I can't seem to find them anywhere."
Harry shook his head and tried to hide a faint smile. Though many things had changed after the war, some things never truly went away. Granted, these things may be somewhat inconvenient, but they did offer a sense of normalcy.
Neville frowned slightly in disappointment but nodded and shut the door behind him as he left.
Hermione shook her head after he had walked back down the corridor and returned to her reading.
Ron stretched his arms contentedly as the trio stepped off the train and into the cool air.
"Blimey, it's nice to be back. Don't get me wrong, home is great and all, but it's too quiet without-" Ron trailed off and blinked. He looked at his feet and didn't say any more. Harry noticed Hermione take Ron's hand.
He wasn't quite sure what to say, so he opted to sling his arm around his friend's shoulder and give it a squeeze. Ron looked at his friends gratefully and tried to smile. The three made their way silently to the carriages, Harry and Hermione holding the redhead tightly for support.
When they arrived at the carriages, Ron and Hermione slid into the seat facing the front. Harry sat opposite them and scooted over to make room for Luna, who had clambered into the next to him.
She smiled at her friends and brushed her blonde hair out of her face. Luna wore vibrant green earrings and what looked like a pink flower on a chain around her neck.
"It's a nice night," she said, peering up into the sky. "Not too cold."
Harry nodded his head and took in a deep breath. The smells of wet earth and lilac were fragrant in the air. It was good to be back.
As the carriage slowly began to move away from the throng of people, Harry could have sworn he caught a glimpse of pale blond hair.
Draco slowly sucked in a breath. He steeled his nerves, forcing himself to count to ten in his head and closed his eyes. He wrenched them open after he hit seventeen.
This wasn't going to be easy. Draco slowly pulled up his dark sleeve and stared at the hideous tattoo that would serve as a constant reminder of the hell he had been sucked into. Was he ready to face the backlash of being forced into the wrong side of the war?
Well, he kind of had to be. This year wasn't going to be easy, that was for sure, but he would have to take it.
With a final deep breath, Draco pushed open the doors to the Great Hall.
Harry paused mid-sip and set down his goblet as the Great Hall erupted into jeers. He turned around and his eyes locked onto a lithe figure who had just entered the room. Malfoy held his chin high and leveled his icy gaze as he strode through the Hall and sat down at his table amid catcalls and shouts of "Death Eater!", "You aren't welcome here!", and "Murderous scum!"
Harry sat silently as the yells and ugly cries only grew louder and louder. Malfoy seemed to take no notice of the searing insults and took a long sip of water. He sat perfectly rigid unmoving, seemingly carved out of stone.
Professor McGonagall stood up from her seat as Headmistress, furious. "Silence!" She shouted, and the room hushed as quickly as it had started. She looked around, eyes blazing. "I am incredibly disappointed in all of you. Whether you have an issue with Mr. Malfoy or not, I trust you can keep it to yourself. He is, after all, your classmate, and you will treat him with the same respect as you would anyone else. If I hear any more about any harassment, those guilty will answer to me." McGonagall sat down as she gave the Hall one last sharp look.
Students at all but the Slytherin table gave each other pointed glances across the tables. Nobody said it, but everyone knew people were not going to take kindly to Malfoy being around.
Harry returned his gaze to his empty plate. He had expected Malfoy would have trouble, but not this bad initially. Meanwhile, Harry was being cheerfully clapped on the back and the worst he had to endure was being asked for an autograph by an adoring first year.
"So Malfoy isn't going to win the 'Most Popular Award' this year, I take it," Ron commented, jerking Harry out of his daze. Hermione nodded solemnly and stared at her cutlery.
"I'm not surprised," she agreed. "He's a prat, and he was on Voldemort's side during the war, whether of his own will or not. He was bound to experience something like this eventually, and I don't suppose it'll go away anytime soon."
Harry voiced his agreement with an almost inaudible grunt. He felt no pity for Malfoy- he was a git. He wasn't sure how long his strong and silent act would last under this kind of heat, though.
"Harry! Good to see you again!" Seamus's voice came from his right across the table, where he was sitting next to Dean Thomas. Harry grinned and waved, cheerfully, thoughts diverted from Malfoy.
"The Cannons aren't doing so well this far, hmm?" Seamus asked teasingly and glanced at Ron, who met the challenge with a hard glare.
"They're just warming up is all. You'll see. They'll kick the Wasps' arses this year."
"Is that so? How much you want to bet? The Wasps' seeker could drop-kick the Cannons' chaser across the bloody field if he wanted to. That bloke is roughly the size of my pinky nail," Seamus shot back. Harry tried unsuccessfully to hide a laugh.
"That's funny-last time I checked, your pinky nail was a great deal bigger than that brain of yours, Finnigan." Dean snorted at that, and Seamus gave him a long look.
"Touché," Seamus said after Dean got his smug grin under control.
Harry turned away from the banter to glance over at Hermione, who was happily chatting with Ginny about sone new werewolf novel.
"Wow, 'Mione, never pegged you as the type of girl to go for the sappy romance novels," he interjected jovially.
"I'm not!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly. "Er, I'm not," She repeated quietly after a few people looked over. "Is not a romance novel, it's a biography on the first known werewolf. Did you know that the word 'lycanthrope' is derived from the Roman King Lycaon?"
"No, but I'm glad you shared that extremely crucial bit of information with me," Harry replied jokingly. He kept his eyes locked on Hermione so as to avoid Ginny's stare.
He and Ginny had had a bit of a rocky end after the war, when Harry decided Ginny just wasn't the one for him. Ron and the rest of the Weasleys were unhappy with him at first but came around after a while. It was difficult when Ron didn't talk to him for a week, though. Ginny still seemed to harbor more than a little resentment at him for their unceremonious breakup.
In all truth, Harry just didn't get that rush of excitement when he saw her like he used to. It boiled down to a more sisterly type of love for her, and that wasn't what she had in mind. He had hoped that she might forgive him this school year, but she didn't seem to happy with him so far.
Suddenly, platters of food appeared on the table and Harry busied himself with much more important matters.
Draco laid down on his bed, staring blankly at the dormitory ceiling. He had made it through the first meal of the school year. After McGonagall's little outburst, people were bound to keep out of his way for a few days, but not long.
He wished the old bat hadn't stepped in. Draco could have dealt with it perfectly fine, thank you very much. Now all he managed to do was look like a defenseless prat who had to hide behind the headmistress because he couldn't handle his issues himself. He hated looking weak or defenseless, and McGonagall had ensured he seemed that way in under two minutes.
Of course, the war had ended better for some than others. Stupid Potter was hailed as nothing short of a hero now (as if he wasn't before), and the worst he received was a crowd of infatuated girls following him around. Saint Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World. Curse him and the Weasel and Granger and his nasty girlfriend the Weaslette and his Irish crony and Longbottom and- oh, fuck them all. Those bastards won and were now proclaimed heroes while Draco sat at the lowest of all the low positions and would be subjected to merciless taunting by his peers.
Couldn't anything go right for him and his family? Father was in jail, Mother was nothing less than a hollow shell sitting alone in Malfoy Manor, and he would most likely not make it through the first month-no, week- without being hexed into oblivion. Mother needn't worry about keeping his room nice for when he came home, he would probably shipped home in a crystal box as a smoldering pile of ash.
Things couldn't get much worse. Scratch that- they bloody well could. He could be strapped to the Boy Wonder himself. Good God, he didn't even want to think of that. He resigned himself to reading Quidditch Weekly to try and bring his thoughts to a better, less terrifying place.
A loud thump dragged his attention back to reality. Blaise Zabini had thrown his trunk onto his bed and begun efficiently unpacking his things.
"You want to be a little louder next time? I don't think the whole castle heard the racket you're making; only about two-thirds of it," Draco drawled.
"Well if it isn't Mr. Popularity himself," Blaise retorted, not looking up. Draco sneered.
"Not to be crass, but you're not exactly the pinnacle of loving attention either, Zabini. I don't think many have forgotten who you sided with last year."
Blaise looked up at him calmly. "That's true, but you're a Malfoy. People are bound to hold a grudge against you more than me. Plus, that mouth of yours chases away most attempts at friendliness, if I do say so myself. I can hold my tongue, but I'm not sure you can say the same."
"Up yours, Blaise," Draco muttered. He returned to his magazine and admired the newest Nimbus model, a silvery-gray, sleek broom with a cursive N embellished on the front.
Well, classes started soon, and though they may be boring, they offered relief from Potter and his gang.
Or at least, so he hoped.
Harry said a quick prayer that he wouldn't be late as he flung open the door to Charms. He burst into the room and breathlessly threw himself into the empty chair beside Ron. He looked at the front of the class.
His classmates, Gryffindors and Slytherins, turned to look at him as he sat panting in his seat. He noticed the ever present half-scowl on Malfoy's face as their gazes caught for a split second.
Thank God, no Flitwick. He was safe. It would have been somewhat humiliating to be late to the third Charms class of the year. He had already taunted death by almost being late to Transfigurations yesterday, and it was a terrifying experience seeing McGonagall walk in right after him and give him the trademark stare she was so remarkably good at.
"Well, Harry, you do know how to make an entrance. Never lost that flair for the dramatic," Seamus whispered in his accent.
Harry quickly looked around the room and noticed more than a few pairs of eyes on him. Well, it was to be expected with that sort of an entrance.
The door opened once again and Professor Flitwick shuffled across the room in his usual manner. He stood at the podium and cleared his throat.
"Hello, class," he began.
"Good morning, Professor Flitwick," the class replied in a single monotone voice, none too excitedly.
"So far, our class has been moving ahead of schedule," Flitwick continued. "We will be moving to more advanced spells for this unit. Today, we will be learning about bonding skills and their uses."
Hermione seemed to perk up in interest at that. She had ranted to Harry and Ron about how irritating it was to start off with minor spells and charms and how badly she wanted to move onto more challenging material. It seemed her wish had been granted.
After lots of explaining and diligent note-taking (at least on Harry and Hermione's end), Professor Flitwick decided they were ready to try it out.
"Now, listen very carefully. We are practicing temporary bonding spells. Not long-lasting or any of the sort. If I see any hint of trouble, we will never perform a bonding spell in this class again." He looked around as sternly as he seemed to be able to muster. "Now, I will pair you off and assign someone to perform the spell. Since Headmaster McGonagall encourages inter-house relationships, you will be paired with someone from the other house."
Groans erupted in the classroom. Hermione sighed resignedly and Ron muttered something about snakes under his breath.
"Hmm, let's see. Let's pair Theodore Nott and Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas and Tracy Davis, Hermione Granger and Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson and Ronald Weasley..." Each pair grumbled as they heard their names being assigned. Harry began to daydream about flying after classes ended. "...and Harry Potter," finished Flitwick.
Harry realized he hadn't actually listened to who he would be pairing up with. "Ron, who am I supposed to pair off with?" He whispered out of the side of his mouth.
Ron gestured to his left. Harry peered at who he was being directed to and decided that this class had better be over quickly or he was going to lose every shred of patience left in him. Malfoy was fuming silently in the corner of the class and seemed intent on drilling a hole in Harry's head.
Things were not looking up.
Malfoy didn't seem to excited to be paired up with the person who he hated the most in the classroom either. Harry was glad the feeling was mutual.
"Now, I will assign you someone to actually perform the spell. Theodore and Seamus, you get Miss Patil, Dean and Tracy, you'll get Johnathan Ashbell, Miss Granger and Blaise..." Harry zoned out once again, half listening. This time , he paid enough attention to know that Neville would be performing the spell on him and Malfoy. "Now, get into your groups and practice," Flitwick said in his squeaky voice.
Malfoy stormed over to him and Neville, not saying a word. His eyes said enough, and they were not purveying a very positive message.
"Now, I think you two need to stand next to each other-like that, yes. Now stay still and I'll get it done in a second," Neville said nervously. He didn't seem completely excited to be performing a spell on Malfoy and Harry. Another issue was the fact that his wand wasn't known to be the most reliable of them all.
He moved his wand through the air in the directed pattern slowly and carefully. Very, very slowly.
"Oh, get on with it, Longbottom! I'd like to leave this classroom within the next year, please!" Malfoy burst out, and Neville jumped.
Blue sparks flew out of the end of his wand and sailed straight at the pair of boys.
The last thing Harry remembered thinking before the world faded to black was how he was going to kill Ollivander for giving Neville that damn wand.
"Mister Potter? Mister Malfoy?"
Madame Pomfrey's voice roused Harry from the blackness of sleep.
Harry blinked his eyes slowly, adjusting to the white light of the Hospital Wing. He shook his head a little and winced at the sharp jab of pain in his right temple. Harry noticed that his right side had a distinctive weight on it, particularly his arm.
Harry looked over and saw a glowing yellow band of light encircling his wrist. Unfortunately, his wrist wasn't the only one trapped. A smooth, pale wrist was also held prisoner. Harry's eyes traveled past the wrist and up the other's arm and groaned inwardly when he reached face.
Malfoy sat next to him, scowling. He was faced frontwards and seemed to not have noticed that Harry was up as well.
Harry's Eyes returned to the glowing ring. He glared at it and tapped it with his free hand. Though it looked to be made of light, it was surprisingly solid and cool to the touch.
He turned to see Malfoy wrestling himself into what looked to be a rather uncomfortable sitting position. Harry made a small noise and sat up as well, so to ease his own discomfort. Noticing Harry was awake, Malfoy glanced in his direction and gave him a withering look, but said nothing.
"Good, you're both awake. I assume you've noticed your predicament?" Pomfrey questioned.
"Unfortunately, yes," Malfoy replied, an angry look decorating his pale face.
Madame Pomfrey cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Well, I'm sorry to say this boys, but it seems the two of you are, erm, stuck this way for the time being."
"We're what?" Harry's head snapped forwards again and he winced.
"I refuse to be bloody bonded to this idiot for another minute. What do you mean we're stuck this way?!" Malfoy demanded.
"Well you see, it seems Mister Longbottom's wand was being a bit temperamental. When you shouted at him to hurry, Mister Malfoy-" at this, Pomfrey gave him a hard stare. "-His wand movement was interrupted, therefore miscasting the spell. Since the spell is now deemed faulty, we cannot figure out a way to simply charm it off for the time being."
Harry gaped at her in astonishment.
"Merlin, shut your damned mouth. You manage to look even more like an idiot than normal, Potter," Malfoy spat, noticing Harry's expression.
"At least I don't always look like someone spat in my face twenty four-seven," Harry shot back angrily.
"Oh, that's funny-"
"Boys, calm yourselves down. At the moment, you're stuck with each other, so you better learn to cooperate. If you don't, it will be a very difficult while for the both of you," Pomfrey interrupted.
"But!" Harry began, before she gave him a stern look and cut him off again.
"If the two of you can't learn to behave like adults instead of infants, I swear that I will keep you in this Hospital Wing every day and night until we find the solution to this. So be civil," she finished, putting extra emphasis on the last sentence.
Malfoy scowled in disgust. "That may prove to be more difficult for some of the people in the room."
"This coming from you? Which one of us broke the other's nose before last school year even started?" Harry snapped.
"I don't think you really have much to talk about, given that you almost fucking made me bleed out on the floor of a bathroom of all places!" Malfoy retorted, eyes narrowed.
"Oh, shove it Malfoy!"
"Right back at you, Potter!"
At that moment, an angry voice shouted, "Quiet, both of you!"
Both boys turned to see McGonagall striding over to them, face furious and robes moving swiftly behind her. She approached them, taking a deep breath in and exhaling, still not looking too pleased in the slightest.
"Merlin, the way the two of you are acting I would think you were first years arguing over a broom. I have to say, it's not impressive in the least." McGonagall looked them both over, assessing their current positions.
Harry was sitting straight up was trying to cross his arms, albeit unsuccessfully. Having one arm linked to Malfoy proved a bit of an issue. The latter was attempting to turn his back on Harry, but was having a bit of a hard time with that as well.
"I'm here to discuss your living conditions and accommodations for the time being. I presume neither of you would prefer to stay in the other's house each night?" The boys nodded slowly.
"We will provide a separate living space for the two of you to stay in until we have the situation under control. You shall take turns sitting with the other's house at alternating meals and we will compromise to find a schedule so both of you can attend some of your classes. Does that sound alright?" She asked in an almost sympathetic tone. Once again, the boys nodded quietly.
"Now, onto the technicalities. The two of you will check in here no less than once a week. Every Sunday, you will tell Madame Pomfrey of any changes in the bond and she will record them so as to better find an efficient solution. You will not intentionally harm each other, ever. I trust you understand that bonds are not merely physical, but mental and emotional as well. Not only that, but if any severe damage is inflicted on one, the other will feel at least most of the pain as well. I suggest you try to keep yourselves out of any brawling." McGonagall pursed her lips.
"Hold on, Professor. What do you mean, they're mental and emotional as well?" Harry asked, bewildered.
"Merlin, Potter, you're even more daft than you look. Have you not listened to Flitwick's entire lesson, you idiot?" Malfoy hissed impatiently.
"Mr. Malfoy, thank you for your unwarranted input," McGonagall started. Harry shot Malfoy a smug look but it turned to a grimace as she continued. "As for you, Mr. Potter, he is correct-you should know if you had listened. What I mean is that partners of a bond will be able to feel each other's emotions to a certain extent. If one of you were to feel a very strong emotion, the other would feel at least a small fragment of it as well. If the bond progresses and the two of you grow closer emotionally, you will begin to feel more and more of each other's emotions. Furthermore, if the bond does progress, partners an undergo training to be able to converse mentally."
"You mean Malfoy'll be in my head too? One of him is enough, thank you!" Harry broke in.
"Oh, please, Potter. As if I would want to get in your head-it's all empty space up there, nothing to interest myself with," Malfoy bit back. Harry decided to ignore that jab.
"So, to clarify, Malfoy and I are bonded physically, mentally, and emotionally until further notice," Harry repeated slowly. "And that includes feeling each other's emotions, feeling the other's pain, possibly being in one another's heads, and whatever this-" he held up his wrist and dragged Malfoy's with it, showing the glowing ring, "-is? That's all of it, right?"
"Wow, Potter, I'm astonished that you can actually remember all these things. That's almost three whole sentences. If I didn't know better, I'd call it progress on your part," Malfoy spat, wrenching his and Harry's wrists down forcefully.
"Mr. Malfoy, if you would kindly stop speaking and allow me to continue, I would be happy to provide information that you haven't learned in class." Malfoy sneered and whipped his head away from Harry as McGonagall spoke. "Bonding spells are usually cast with the intent of a romantic relationship. The partners are not physically attached like you are, but experience the other effects that you will. Since it is typically cast with affection as the primary intent, partners of a bond will generally experience..." she cleared her throat uncomfortably. "...some sort of romantic attraction."
"You don't mean I'll be in love with Potter? I have a bit of a hard time believing that, given that we hate each other. I don't think 'romantic attraction' will be much of an issue, Professor," Malfoy argued. "At least on my end," he added, smirking at the dismayed look on Harry's face.
"Excuse me, but as much as you would like to believe, you aren't irresistible. I don't think me falling for you is exactly a concern of mine," Harry shot back.
McGonagall narrowed her eyes at the two of them. "You may think that now, but that may change. I'm just warning you so you aren't taken by surprise if it does occur. Now, I have matters to attend to outside of your petty fights. I expect I'll be seeing you soon." She whisked her robes around as she turned and walked away.
Malfoy turned to Harry with an expression of disgust on his face. "Brilliant, I simply can't wait to be stuck with you every minute of every day."
"It's not my fault we're stuck like this! If you hadn't yelled at Neville, maybe we wouldn't be in this situation right now!" Harry said hotly.
"Oh it's my fault now, is it? Maybe if Longbottom had a half decent wand, I wouldn't be sitting next to the Boy Wonder himself in the Hospital Wing with a bloody ring around our wrists!"
"Tosser," Harry muttered under his breath in response.
"Whatever. I'm going to try and sleep. Hopefully I'll go into a coma so I don't have to experience you every bloody day," Malfoy retorted, turning on his side, arm behind him so as not to pull Harry with him. Harry rolled his eyes and turned the other way, mirroring Malfoy's position.
This was going to be very, very hard.
A/N: Hi guys! This is the start of my first Drarry fic. I'll try to update as often as possible, and keep the writing at least pretty decent. Any feedback or support is really appreciated, and feel free to let me know what you think of this first bit in the comments! Thank you for reading!
-B.