For Camp Potter (Archery - write about a first; this one is about a first - and only - true love); the If You Dare Challenge (771. Stolen Glance); the Pairing Set Bootcamp (29. dracoharry); the OTP Bootcamp (30. Quiver) and the Fantastic Beasts challenge (Occamy)

Hermione was the one who first told him about the legend of the red string of fate.

At the time, the very idea seemed ludicrous. After all, the thought of red string connecting soulmates was farfetched, even for the wizarding world and its myriad of surprises. All it was to him was a story, and he soon put it out of his mind, preferring to concentrate on other things.

Later, he would wish he had paid more attention.

It was on an Auror raid that it happened.

"Typical, isn't it?" Ron grumbled as Dean and Hestia worked on taking down the wards that covered the manor and its grounds. "We spend most of our time at Hogwarts trying to get Malfoy into trouble, and the moment we get out, we're supposed to go save him! I mean, is some time away from him too much to ask for?"

Harry threw his best friend an amused glance as he waited impatiently for the wards to be disabled. Nine years of friendship taught you things about a person, and the one thing Harry had learned was when Ron was on a roll, it was best for everyone concerned if he wasn't interrupted.

Unfortunately, they still had a job to do, and just as Ron was getting to the part where he started cursing, Hestia called out sharply, "Oi! You two! Get here, we've got to go and rescue Malfoy Junior from whoever's holding him hostage right now. Your gossip can wait!"

Knowing better than to let the tough Auror and Order veteran waiting, the two boys nearly ran towards the rest of their team.

The actual rescue was easy. The only reason Malfoy actually needed rescuing was that he hadn't had his wand on him when his kidnappers had broken into the Manor, and once he was facing their wand, he hadn't exactly had a chance to go and get it.

No, the surprise of the night came as Ron and Dean were taking the perpetrators – the children of ex-Death Eaters who thought that the betrayal of the Malfoy family had prevented them from rising to glory under Voldemort – into custody.

"I told you, I'm fine!" Draco grumbled, trying to dodge Hestia as she performed standard diagnostic charms on him. "I don't need those charms, and I certainly don't need to go to St Mungo's!"

"Mr Malfoy, you must understand, it's pro-"

In his desire to evade the charms, Draco's foot caught on one of the upturned chairs lying around in the wreckage of the Manor's sitting room. As he tripped forward, Harry reached out blindly to catch him.

The next thing that Harry heard was Hestia, Ron and Dean's voices, calling out for him in a panic. In the moment he had touched Draco, the world around them had suddenly turned to a blinding white flash of light.

Clutching Draco to him to make sure he was safe, Harry called out, "We're okay guys! We just can't see at the moment, but we're otherwise fine!"

Harry could hear the sighs of relief at his news.

Turning his attention to the man in his arms, he was surprised to see Malfoy staring at him in both shock and horror.

"Malfoy?" he asked, concerned. "Are you okay?"

When the boy didn't reply, he gave him a little shake. Thankfully, it seemed to propel him out of his stupor.

"We need to get to St Mungo's. As soon as the light disappears – it's extremely urgent!" was the only thing he would say. No matter how many times Harry questioned him while they waited for the light to dissipate, that was the only thing he would say.

"Would you care to repeat that?" Harry asked the woman in front of him, shell-shocked. Once Hermione had given him the news, he could suddenly understand why Malfoy had looked like all the assumptions his world worked on had crumpled within moments.

"Harry, you heard me just fine the first five time," Hermione scolded him crossly. "Now you're just being childish. No matter how many times I tell you this, the fact of the matter is that you and Malfoy have a red-string connecting the two of you, and there's nothing we can do about it."

"Hermione-"

"No!" Hermione exclaimed, interrupting him. "This is something the two of you have to work out for yourself."

Knowing better than to push Hermione when she was in such a mood, Harry merely grunted his agreement. "Can you at least tell me why I'm still stuck at St Mungo's a week after this happened? I didn't get injured in the raid, and I most certainly didn't conjure up that white light – so why on earth do I feel so weak that even I know getting up from here is a bad idea?"

"That's just your stubbornness," Hermione murmured as she got up from the corner of Harry's hospital bed, where she had been sitting, and started to move towards the door. "But I wouldn't worry too much," she added as she saw Harry's irritated expression, "I'm sure your visitor will clear all of that up for you."

"Visitor?" Harry tried to ask, but by the time he had gotten the last syllable out, Hermione was already gone.

But before Harry could start to wonder what Hermione's last words had meant, there was a sharp knock on the door to his room.

He sighed, fiddling with the sheets on his bed. As usual, Hermione wasted no time in getting him to do what she wanted. And there was no way to get out of meeting whoever she had arranged to visit to him easily.

"Come in," he finally called.

The person that walked in was the last person he was expecting to see. He was still in bed even though he had done nothing that exerted himself before his world had exploded – Malfoy had been kidnapped. He had never imagined that he would out of Mungo's before him.

"What are you doing here?" he blurted out at the sight of the blonde.

Malfoy grinned wryly. "Now, now, Harry, is that the way to talk to your bonded?" he asked in a tone that would have come across as patronising had Harry not easily recognised the note of fear – the same fear that he was feeling – in his voice.

"What do you want Malfoy?" Harry asked, sighing in defeat once he recognised that they were going to be having the talk, whether he liked it or not.

Malfoy walked up to Harry's bed and took a seat next to him. "Whether you like it or not, we're bonded now Harry," he said, suddenly serious. "There's no way that even you can get slip of this. We have to make this work in some way, so you need to start calling me by my name. There's no way we'll be able to work through this if you insist on being so distant."

This was the thing that Harry hated most about growing up. Had Malfoy said his piece while they were at Hogwarts, Harry would have ignored him completely. But a year in the Aurors, working under a woman who knew a thing or two about how grudges held during the years of peace between the wars could destroy entire worlds, had given him a newfound sense of maturity, and he found difficulty in finding a way to refute Malfoy's words.

"Fine," he said, though it wasn't without a slight tinge of bitterness. Not even a year's worth of maturity could overcome nearly a decade of rivalry in his mind. "What do you want to talk about Draco?"

Ignoring the frostiness in Harry's voice, Draco asked, "What do you know about red thread bonds, Harry?"

As much as he hated to admit it, Harry said, "Nothing."

"I thought as much," Draco mused. It didn't sound snarky like it would have a few years ago. No, Draco sounded almost fond, something Harry was utterly stunned to realise.

"The idea of the red thread bond is that there's only one person – one soulmate, if you will – for each person in the world. Legend says that once upon a time, every person could see their threads from the moment they were born. But something happened – no one knows what – and humanity lost that ability. Instead, it was only possible to see the threads if you truly wanted to protect your intended. Not in the way in which you saved me in during the war – that had nothing to do with me, you would have done that for anyone. But the moment in which you reached out to steady me from falling, the only thing that would have being going through your head was a desire to make sure that I in particular didn't fall."

"Draco, what does that-"

"Have anything to do with this?" Draco asked, interrupting Harry. "I'll explain in a moment, just bear with me. The reasoning behind the bond only appearing when one of the partners' protective instincts were raised was that it means that there's no doubt that they'd be a good match for each other. And once the bond is formed, there's absolutely nothing that can break it. You're bonded for life, whether you like it or not. There's absolutely no one else for two people who have formed a red thread bond – the bond will force you to reject the possibility of any other romantic attachment."

"Wait, so you and I-" Harry started to ask, finally understanding, at least faintly, what the bond meant.

"Are, for all intents and purposes, married," Draco confirmed.

Harry's head was spinning at the revelation. It wasn't the fact that Draco was male that was confusing him – he had never been one to put stock in the idea of a concrete sexuality anyways – but the fact that it was, well, Draco.

Here was boy who he had truly believed he hated. Who he would still believe he hated had he not crossed paths with Voldemort and learned what true hatred was. This was the man who had tried his best to make Harry's years at Hogwarts miserable.

And now he was supposed to wrap his head around the fact that the two of them were apparently meant for each other.

At least he's easy on the eyes, a traitorous part of his mind whispered. That much, at least, was very true. There was no way anyone could deny that Draco Malfoy was bloody gorgeous, and a part of him couldn't help but think that if he had to be stuck with one of his enemies for the rest of his life, at least he didn't have to be stuck with one that looked like Goyle.

But then, he very much doubted that physical attraction would pose a problem in any relationship the two of them had. It was already obvious from his thoughts that Harry thought that Draco was gorgeous, and going by the way Draco was raking his eyes appreciatively over him, even though he was in hospital clothes and probably looked horrible, the feeling was mutual.

No, it would be emotional compatibility that would cause the problems between them.

But there was something more pressing on Harry's mind at the moment.

"Draco," he asked slowly, looking up at the blond man, "Why exactly am I still stuck in a Mungo's bed while you're free to walk around? You had already undergone a good amount of stress before the bond formed, I hadn't. Shouldn't our position be exchanged at the moment?"

To Harry's surprise, Draco smiled wryly. "That would be your inherent stubbornness," he said.

Harry scowled. "Hermione said the same thing," he said, sounding irritated. "Do you mind explaining yourself?"

"Sorry," Draco said. Harry had the distinct feeling that he was holding back laughter. "You haven't accepted our bond," he explained, sobering suddenly. His ability to change his mood so quickly was already sending Harry's head spinning, and they hadn't even been talking for an hour yet. "Your body needs the bond, and your mind was fighting it. Doing that taxes all your strength, which leaves you in this state," he concluded, motioning to Harry's prone body.

Harry sighed. "So what you're telling me is that the reason I'm like this is because I refused to listen to Hermione?"

"Well…" Draco said, biting his lip.

"She's never going to let me forget this," Harry groaned. "Never."

Once again, Harry had the suspicion that Draco was holding back and forcibly preventing himself from breaking into laughter at Harry's expression. For some reason, he couldn't help but wish he wouldn't. He would have loved to hear Draco's laugh.

But – if what both Draco and Hermione had told him was true – he would have the rest of his life to get a chance to hear it. For some reason, when Harry thought of it that way, spending the rest of his life with Draco sounded less frightening and shocking than it had just a moment before.

Harry looked up at Draco. "So, what are we supposed to do now, all-knowing one?" he asked, allowing a faintly teasing note to creep into his voice.

Looking stunned – but happily, as though it was a pleasant surprise – at Harry's attempt to try and overcome their past, Draco smiled involuntarily.

"Well, I suppose we should go on an actual date first," he answered in a voice that suggested he was thinking aloud. "To be honest," he continued, "I'm just as clueless as you are. I never expected this to happen between us either – no matter how comfortable I seem, it's an adjustment for me too, you know. Hell, the only reason I seem comfortable in the first place is because I know all about the theory of the bond. If I wasn't a pureblood who had been taught this since birth, I'd be just as lost as you are right now."

Draco's words surprised Harry a bit. The way Draco was handling it all, Harry had forgotten that he was just as new to the bond between them as he was. And the fact that he was willing to be so open about his feelings was another thing that Harry hadn't expected, but he guessed it had something to do with the bond.

There was so much he still had to learn, both about the bond and the boy sitting next to him.

He smiled, and reached out grasp Draco's hand. "I think that's a wonderful idea," he murmured appreciatively. Draco flushed a light red at the compliment, and Harry continued, "As soon as I'm out of here, we'll meet up for lunch or something. There are a lot you and I need to discuss, Draco Malfoy."

At Harry's words, Draco smiled back at him, a wide, open, honest smile. And in that moment, Harry knew that the bond may not have been something he had chosen or was prepared for, but he couldn't find it in himself to resent its formation.

After all, it had given him a shot at finding true love. It had given him a chance with Draco Malfoy, something he would never have had without it, and he couldn't find it within himself to be upset about that.

I hope you guys liked it! As always, please don't forget to drop a review on your way out :3