A slightly longish chapter for you lovelies. Thank you for reading!
"I thought I'd killed him," Harry said softly. "For a while, I wasn't sure he was going to make it."
Bill squeezed his shoulder in a show of support. "Harry, if there's one thing I know about you, it's that you would never hurt someone intentionally. It was an accident."
Harry nodded but he couldn't bring himself to agree. No, it hadn't been intentional. It was still not one of his fondest memories though, and he tried not to think about it. He shook his head as if to do away with the memory of that incident altogether.
Bill was still looking at him with a mix of concern and sympathy and Harry rallied to change the subject. "Well, at least some good came out of it. We stopped trying to murder each other."
"Always a good thing," Bill conceded. "So you two worked something out?"
Harry smiled at that. "I think so, yeah."
By mutual unspoken consent, they started to look out for each other. For one thing, the need for physical contact was something neither of them could ignore anymore. For another, nobody wanted to end up back in the hospital and face Hermione's wrath again.
And so it was that reluctantly, grudgingly (not to mention very, very uncomfortably) touching was deemed acceptable. Even if it was not to be spoken of.
Ever.
To be honest, at first Harry wasn't even sure they were doing it
Well, he knew he was keeping a close eye on Draco after the hospital. He was still weak and Harry felt guilty about having pushed him so hard. He made it a point to stay close in case the bond acted up. Draco didn't need the added stress.
A few days had passed since the hospital visit. Harry was slowly getting his head around things. Draco hadn't initiated a discussion over what they were supposed to do yet and Harry hardly wanted to press the subject. It could wait a while.
Not surprisingly, he soon came across Draco sprawled on the couch again. He was asleep this time. Harry halted on his way to the kitchen, wondering if he should wake Malfoy and send him to bed. The sofa couldn't be very comfortable. Then again, he needed the rest. His leg was bent at an awkward angle and his sketchbook was dangling from his fingers. Harry frowned. If Draco had fallen asleep while sketching, he must have been pretty damn tired.
Harry was just about to leave him be when the twitching started. He stopped in his tracks for the second time in five minutes. Draco's brow furrowed and he stirred slightly. As Harry watched, his frown became more pronounced. He mumbled and his hand batted about as if trying to ward something off. When his movements became jerkier and more than a little distressed, Harry approached carefully.
Draco tossed his head and groaned. Harry watched with growing concern. Okay. Pain, he was definitely in pain. That meant the bond was probably acting up again. Now that he thought about it, Harry had a bit of a headache too. Grimacing slightly, he hovered over Draco, debating whether to wake him or not. A whimper escaped the blond and Harry scowled, somewhat irritated on Draco's behalf.
The damn bond...the least it could do was let him get some rest. How was he supposed to recuperate like this?
Draco wasn't calming down. Finally, Harry decided to try something other than standing around uselessly. There wasn't much he could do, but leaving Draco at the mercy of the bond just seemed unnecessarily cruel. The least he could do was try to help…
"It's okay," he attempted awkwardly. "You're okay. Go back to sleep, Mal…"
Draco cut him off with a cry of pain. His back arched and his fists clenched. Harry reacted on instinct. His hand hovered for a second before carding gently through Draco's hair. "Shh," he whispered, keeping up his soothing ministrations. Soft, blond locks sifted through his fingers. Harry's spine tingled. Damn, that felt good. Draco's hair was really soft. If it wasn't the most awkward situation of his life, Harry might have actually liked it.
Apparently, Draco thought so too. Slowly, very slowly, he calmed down. The tension left his body and he relaxed. Finally, his breathing deepened again and he lolled back on the couch with a contented sigh.
"Okay," Harry murmured, keeping up his gentle cajoling. "Good. That's good. You'll feel better soon. Soon, Draco..."
He waited for a minute or so to make sure Draco was comfortable again. Draco remained still and sleeping, his expression peaceful. Harry heaved a sigh of relief.
Crisis averted.
He removed his hand—a tad regretfully— and left as quietly as he could.
He didn't notice a pair of grey eyes flutter open, watching his retreating back intently.
Gratitude didn't come easily to Draco. It wasn't that he didn't understand the concept. However, the...execution eluded him. This wasn't entirely his fault. He'd had a rather sheltered upbringing and if Mother and Father had taught him anything, it was that he was entitled to anything he desired simply because he was their son.
Learning that that wasn't necessarily true had come as a bit of a shock, actually.
Nevertheless, it hadn't struck him as a big deal. Draco was abysmally bad at thank-yous but then, no one did anything for him nowadays, so the issue never arose.
Until Potter had come along and done that...thing and, well what was Draco supposed to do now? Of course he was thankful that Potter had stepped in when he did. The bond had become extremely uncomfortable ever since St Mungo's. Even asleep, he had known he was in pain. It had felt extremely real.
And then through the haze of sleep, he had felt a calming hand on his brow and a strong fingers sifting through his hair while someone murmured soothingly to him. By the time the pain dissipated completely and he was awake, Potter had gone.
But he had definitely been there. He had helped out for no other reason save that Draco had needed his help. The thought made Draco's insides twist uncomfortably. Why? Why had Potter helped him, especially when Draco had done nothing but make him miserable? Why would he care? And more importantly, what was Draco supposed to do now?
The idea of saying thank you still made him cringe. Besides, Potter hadn't exactly broached the subject. He seemed perfectly content to go about his business without acknowledging it. So Draco didn't either.
Still every now and then, he caught himself stealing glances at Potter, watching him carefully and wondering why.
Life, such as it was, went on.
One day, Draco was perched on the kitchen counter, sipping tea and going through a file from work. The office was not an option, seeing that he still experienced a stabbing headache if he was away from Potter for too long. Potter didn't seem too keen to go out on active fieldwork under the circumstances, either.
But things were as good as they could possibly get. The best they could do was try to normalise the situation as much as possible. Hence, it was by mutual agreement that they started working from home.
It wasn't as bad as he had imagined, actually. Potter clearly had his own way of doing things. He didn't really like to sit still. Most of the time, Draco saw him pacing about, frowning over a case file and muttering to himself. Then he would either bolt for the floo and make a call to the office or chuck the file away and find something else to look over. It was ridiculously inefficient but Draco kept his opinions to himself. All he needed was a quill and a quiet place to work for a few hours so it was easy to keep out of Potter's way.
The kitchen was as good a place as any.
Draco made a face at the ten page form he was supposed to fill out...some rot about approving a delegation from Romania. Merlin, he hated his job sometimes. Still, it was better than nothing; even if the words 'soul sucking vacuum of endless tedium' came to mind more often than not...
His inner musings were suddenly interrupted when Potter barrelled into his work place. Draco looked up and frowned as Potter scrambled about the kitchen, glaring daggers and wrenching open cabinets. His hair was a mess and he looked pale and tired and very pissed off. Potter growled and slammed the cabinet shut, whirling around to face Draco.
"Problem?" Draco enquired, somewhat taken aback. He really didn't know why Potter was in such a snit.
"We're out of coffee," Potter bit out. He scrubbed his hair viciously and glared at Draco who bristled slightly at the snappish tone. This was hardly his fault. He didn't even drink Potter's blighted coffee!
"That's too bad," he replied, pointedly ignoring Potter and looking over the file again. He was in no mood for a row. Whatever this tantrum was about, it was uncalled for and Draco wasn't indulging it.
Potter however, was by no means done throwing a fit. He turned on Draco. "Bloody typical," he spat. "Anytime I need something, it's gone! Every damn time! Is a cup of coffee too much to ask for in the sodding morning? Is it?!"
Draco blinked at the sheer ferocity of Potter's tirade. All this over coffee? "Look, Potter…"
"No! You know what? Forget it. Just...just fucking forget it! I'm going back to work!" He stormed out before throwing Draco one last scowl over his shoulder. "And use a damn chair, Malfoy. That's what we have them for!"
Draco glared as Potter stomped off, still snarling about coffee and his apparent lack of it. Bloody tosser, Draco thought bitterly. And after things had been going so well too. Draco felt a hot surge of irrational anger. It wasn't fair. He hadn't done anything! Potter had no right to go off on him like that. What the hell was that about?
He alighted from the counter with every intention of going after Potter and demanding an explanation for that little display. He wasn't in the study or the bedroom. The git was probably sulking on the couch. Draco squared his shoulders and marched over.
He stopped his in tracks as he caught sight of Potter.
Draco frowned. Something was….wrong. Potter was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, a case file on his lap. But he was clutching his head and his hands were shaking. Every now and then he shivered slightly. He looked so pale. Alarm bells went off in Draco's head. Oh Merlin. This was bad. He needed to call someone. Granger? Yes, Granger. She was a Healer, she would know. She'd been helpful when Draco relapsed because of the…
The bond.
That thrice damned bond!
Draco could have kicked himself. The fucking bond! How could he have forgotten? He wasn't the only one affected. Potter had reactions too. Apparently, he was having one now and the git hadn't asked for help. The stupid, reckless idiot!
Potter whimpered in pain and clutched his head again. "Pull it together," he rasped, apparently trying to talk himself out of the pain. "Come on, you can do this. Just get it together, Harry."
Draco stayed still as a statue while Potter composed himself with a few deep breaths.
Good grief. Did this happen often? How long had Potter been in pain? Why hadn't the idiot said anything?!
Unfortunately, he knew the answer to that all too well. Potter didn't ask for help. Not if he could help it. Draco sighed wearily. Apparently, they did have something in common.
But Potter had helped him anyway. And he was in pain now. Draco would be highly remiss not to return the favour. He just had to figure out a way to do it without raising Potter's hackles.
This, right here, would be where all that Slytherin training came in handy.
So Draco approached, practically sauntering over — the picture of nonchalance. Potter scowled at him warily. "What?" he snapped.
"Nothing," Draco replied smoothly, refusing to take the bait. "You're in my spot, that's all."
Potter scowled belligerently. "If you think I'm moving…"
"I didn't ask you to. It's a big enough sofa." With that, he flopped down next to Potter, turning his back against him and leaning against his shoulder. Potter stiffened at the sudden contact but Draco pointedly ignored him. Instead, he summoned his file from the kitchen and went back to work, making sure to lean back against Potter to maximise physical contact. Slowly and gradually, he felt Potter's stiff frame relax. Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He could feel his own body responding to the bond, the tension was easing out. Potter would soon feel better too, thank Merlin.
Crisis averted.
He started as a toned arm wrapped around his waist. Potter tightened his grip and pulled him closer, sighing slightly as Draco rested against his chest. Draco kept his eyes firmly on his file, refusing to acknowledge any of these recent happenings. Not to mention, the sensation of Potter's toned chest against his back. Potter favoured a policy of silence on the matter, and he was fine with that.
"I shouldn't have yelled back there," Potter muttered after a while. "I just...really needed coffee."
Draco nodded his understanding. They didn't need to talk about it. "I'll get some tomorrow," he promised.
When Potter gave him a brief squeeze in a silent gesture of thanks, he smiled.
"Yeah, I see it," Bill agreed, flipping through some more pictures. He paused at one and peered at it with interest. "These are definitely happier times."
Harry smiled at the picture. In it, Draco was leaning against Harry and reading a novel. Picture Harry was obviously following along. His chin rested on Draco's shoulder as he read. Every time Draco tried to turn a page, he would grab hold of his wrist. Eventually Picture Draco lost patience and whacked him on the head with the book.
"It wasn't bad," Harry replied with a grin. "Once we got a system in place, things just...worked out. You know, I don't think anyone even noticed when we became friends."
Bill smirked at that, but kept his mouth shut. From all the talk he had heard, people had definitely noticed. But maybe Harry didn't need to hear that.
More tomorrow :) Thanks again for reading and reviews are always appreciated. Cheers!
