A/N: Before this chapter even starts, I want to give the author Mercedes Lackey credit for the concept of the life bond and it's implications. I first heard of it in her wonderful series, The Last Herald-Mage.
Now I Know What Love Is, Ch. 9-Bond and Letter
Screams punctured the silence of the night, pain and horror piercing the stillness. Bright flashes of light, sometimes white, sometimes green, shot through the darkness surrounding the tiny cottage. Vile laughter could be heard, proudly emitted from evil throats.
Lord Voldemort, in all his insane glory, paced the exterior of the house, followed by a small, weak, ratty looking wizard. He looked more pleased with each cry of pain heard within.
"It is beautiful, is it not?" he remarked to Wormtail.
"Yes, my Lord," Wormtail replied shakily.
"But it is not good enough," Voldemort continued. "Weak, puny Muggles, so easily killed. The challenge is before us, Wormtail, and we will embrace it with open arms. The true, the grand, the undeniable return of Lord Voldemort."
"No one will be able to deny your power, my Lord," said Wormtail.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Well, that was abrupt," said Harry, watching the door close behind Dumbledore's back.
"True," drawled Draco. "Wonder what the old git's up to?"
"Draco!" said Harry, exasperated. He looked at Draco, only to find Draco giving him an extremely sexy, if unconvincing, pouty look. Harry laughed.
"Think you're cute, do you?" he said.
"No, I think you're cute," Draco smirked at him. He was lying comfortably sprawled on Dumbledore's couch, one leg propped up against the back, hands behind his head.
"C'mere," he said, holding out his hand to Harry.
"There isn't enough room," Harry said. "I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't," Draco promised.
Almost before he knew what he was doing, Harry found himself stretched out on top of Draco, trying to settle himself down gingerly so as not to hurt him. Draco gasped softly and closed his eyes momentarily.
"Am I too heavy?" said Harry anxiously. Draco hooked one calf behind Harry's knee.
"You're going to have to learn the difference between the sound of pain and one of pleasure," Draco said.
"Oh?" said Harry. "And which was that?"
"I think you know," answered Draco. "Take this bloody thing off." He tugged at Harry's tie.
"Don't I even get a kiss first?" Harry teased. "I feel used."
Draco smirked at him again before brushing his lips across Harry's, light as a feather. He had barely pulled away before Harry dove in for another kiss, parting Draco's lips with his tongue. Draco allowed this soft penetration, trying to entice Harry further, mouth open and tongue sliding gently against Harry's.
A sound from the corner of the room brought Harry to a sitting position, blushing to the roots of his hair and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Ah, boys, there you are," said Professor Figg. "Professor Dumbledore asked me to come up and show you around, and also to apologize for having to leave you so quickly. His business was rather urgent."
Harry could have killed Draco, who didn't look the least bit ashamed of himself for being caught in such a compromising position. Indeed, he lay there looking extremely smug and self-satisfied, occasionally licking his lips as though he were trying to taste Harry's kisses again.
"Mr. Malfoy," said Professor Figg. "I think it best you go straight to bed and get some rest. Madame Pomphrey tells me you are still quite ill. Harry can give you a tour in the morning."
Harry and Professor Figg helped Draco up. Harry then supported Draco as they moved slowly down a short hallway and through the door at the end, into a small, rather plain bedroom. The bed hangings and two chairs in front of the marble fireplace were done in a muted, silvery grey colour. Several tall candelabra scattered about the room gave the only light, saving that of the greenish flames crackling gently in the fireplace. The only decoration appeared to be a painting over the fireplace, a perfectly ordinary study of the inside of a drawing room, odd only in the fact that there were no human subjects pictured.
Draco lay on the bed, grateful for its soft warmth. He still grew dizzy if he remained on his feet for too long. He closed his eyes.
"Come, Harry," said Professor Figg. "Draco, we'll leave you to your rest now."
Figg led Harry from the room, closing the door behind her. "Harry," she began, "I have something to talk to you about, but you mustn't let Draco know about it."
"I'm sorry, but you can't ask me to keep secrets from him," Harry replied.
Professor Figg sighed. "Well, you are nothing if not honest, I see. Can I ask you to wait until he is stronger?" Harry nodded. He wouldn't have Draco hurt again for the world.
"Voldemort has been sighted again," she said. "That is why Professor Dumbledore had to leave. No, no, don't worry. You couldn't be in a safer place, and you have the added protection of my being your secret keeper."
"What about Ron and Hermione?" he said. "Where have they been sent?"
"To Ron's home," she said. "His parents have been informed of the situation, and his brothers Bill and Charlie have come home for the time being. Even Voldemort would think twice before trying anything at the home of three powerful wizards. He preys on the weak, remember. Don't worry about your friends."
"Draco, however, doesn't have the protection the three of you possess. That is why we allowed you two to stay here together, alone, so that the both of you could be guarded. The less people who know where you are, the better. There are spies in this school who would notice that he has disappeared, along with you. The Dark Lord and his followers, including Lucius Malfoy, may be looking for him. Yes, I know about Draco's father," she said in response to Harry's look of surprise.
"What can I do to help protect Draco?" Harry said fervently. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt him."
"I know you won't," she replied, laying one hand on his shoulder. "I am willing to become his secret-keeper also, but I need the consent of one of three people to do so. One, obviously, is Draco himself, but Albus and I don't think it wise to tell him of Voldemort's reemergence just yet. He may try to contact his father out of fear for him, and that communication could inadvertently fall into the wrong hands. Two, Draco's legal guardian. That's out of the question, of course. The third person I can ask for permission is you."
"Me?" said Harry.
"Yes," said Professor Figg firmly. "You and Draco are not just in love, Harry. You have formed an attachment that runs deeper than any other, deeper than love, deeper than marriage, even. You cannot be parted except by death, and that makes you responsible for each other." She smiled at Harry. "You're very lucky. Most people go their whole lives without feeling love like this."
Harry gaped. It was a while before he found his voice again. "I don't suppose I can tell him about that, either?"
"He knows," she answered. "He's wearing the ring, remember? Besides, he has been witness to a bond like this all his life. His parents have it."
Harry thought about how different Draco had been since he'd been wearing the ring. Draco's affection had become so obvious. He didn't care who saw the two of them together, and he wasn't interested in hiding anything. Yes, Draco knew.
"Do whatever you need to do to protect him," he finally told Professor Figg. She nodded in agreement.
"Now, practical things. The bathroom is at the end of the hall, down the stairs to your right. The kitchen is through the parlour. The house elves will send your meals up there at the usual times, but if you need anything special, pull the bell rope by the window. DO NOT attempt to go through this door," she said, pointing to a door on his left. "It is accessible only by Professor Dumbledore, and I have it on good authority that anyone else passing through it will be turned into a pair of nice, fluffy bunny slippers." She appeared to be serious, so Harry didn't laugh, though he was sorely tempted.
"Is there any point me showing you where the other bedrooms are?" she asked, fixing him with a trenchant stare.
"No, not really," Harry mumbled.
"Good night then," she said, surprising him with a warm hug.
"Good night, Professor," he replied. She swept off toward the front door of Dumbledore's quarters, and Harry returned to the bedroom. Judging by Draco's recent behavior, he had almost expected him to be lounging seductively in bed, waiting. Instead, Draco was asleep on top of the covers, still dressed, one hand thrown over his eyes to shield them from the light. Harry took off Draco's shoes and then undressed himself, putting on his pajamas. He rummaged in a nearby wardrobe until he found an extra blanket to cover Draco with. He then went around the room, blowing candles out, before settling himself under the covers beside Draco. Draco turned over in his sleep and snuggled himself against Harry, burrowing his face into Harry's neck. Harry held him, staring into the dying embers of the fire, wishing he could stay there forever.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Harry woke up early the next morning, starving. He savored the feeling of Draco in his arms for a few moments before hunger drove him out of bed. He gently disentangled himself and wandered out to the kitchen.
He found a tiny room with a wooden floor, in contrast to the stone floors found in the rest of the apartment. A mahogany and wrought iron table and chairs, old and scarred but beautifully polished, sat in the middle of the floor. Sunlight gleamed in through arched Gothic windows, recessed into the stone walls.
Harry hurriedly downed several bacon sandwiches and meandered back to the bedroom, still munching on a piece of bacon, to check on Draco. He was still sleeping, so Harry decided to find the bathroom. He dug a pair of jeans and a sweater out of his trunk and went down the stairs at the other end of the hall.
Harry was expecting something akin to the Prefect's bathroom he had taken his Triwizard egg to last year. Instead he found a long narrow room with high ceilings, tiled with cool ceramic squares. Atrium doors lined the room on one side, letting in a view of a spectacular greenhouse garden. Red roses pressed themselves against the glass behind the tub, which was mostly shielded from view by a painted wooden screen. The roses made a startling contrast against the white porcelain.
Harry filled the claw-footed tub with water and climbed in, the water rising almost to his chin when he sat down. He lay back relaxing in the hot water and thinking about the things that Professor Figg told him last night, especially his life bond with Draco. He felt overwhelming love for Draco and fear at the same time. It was quite odd to have made a lifetime commitment without even knowing it, and he knew he'd have to talk to Draco about it and find out how he was feeling. Draco seemed to be dealing with it rather well, considering, but then he'd been used to the concept of a life bond, if not the actual fact of having one with Harry.
It was also painful for Harry to not tell Draco about Voldemort and the fact that Professor Figg was his secret keeper. He knew he wouldn't be able to hide his gnawing anxiety for long. Draco could practically read his mind as it was.
Footsteps overhead soon told Harry that Draco was up and about. He dried off and dressed quickly, running upstairs to find Draco sitting at the kitchen table enjoying his bacon and eggs.
"What are you doing out of bed?" Harry said.
"Good morning, sweetheart, I love you too," Draco answered, grinning sunnily at him.
"Seriously, love, how do you feel?" Harry answered, coming to sit beside him at the table.
"I feel lots better, actually," Draco said. "I was really hungry when I woke up this morning, for a change. Where have you been?"
"Downstairs, taking a bath," Harry said.
"Without me?" Draco replied, raising his eyebrows. "Damn. You were naked and I missed it."
"Afraid so," said Harry, trying his best to conceal his embarrassment. Draco could say things like that with a straight face and then go right back to his breakfast, eating unconcernedly as though he'd said "Pass the salt". It was unnerving. That was nothing to Draco's next remark, however.
"I need a bath myself. Feel up to helping me?" Harry almost dropped the fork he had been playing with.
"Huh?" he said.
"I said, love, do you feel like helping me with a bath? I don't know if I can manage those stairs by myself. Unless you want me to go about unbathed and unbrushed. That'd be sexy, it would."
"Uh, sure," said Harry. Draco smiled wickedly at him.
"You're cute when you're embarrassed," he said. "Don't worry. I won't corrupt your innocence further, at least not in the daylight."
Draco finished his breakfast while Harry went to sort through his trunk for some clothes. It had been strange packing his things for him, and it was stranger still picking something for him to wear. He found an old pair of jeans, soft and comfortable looking, and a loose knitted black sweater, but he was at a loss when it came to picking underwear. Finally he just grabbed the first pair he came to and returned to find Draco leaning against the doorway for support, waiting on him.
He helped Draco down the stairs, bringing him to sit on the edge of the tub while he turned the taps on. Draco started unclasping the wrinkled robes he had slept in last night.
Harry watched Draco remove his robes and the open necked white shirt and dark pants he wore underneath. He stood cautiously, now clad only in rather hedonistic green silk underwear.
Harry's mouth went dry. Draco was beautiful. Light gleamed off his pale skin, and his lean seeker's body was lithe with smooth muscle. Harry noticed a large bruise below Draco's right shoulder blade, and he smoothed his fingertips gently over it. Draco winced slightly.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," said Harry softly.
"It's alright, Harry, I'll be fine," Draco said.
"No, I mean it," Harry said. "You're hurt, and sick, and it's all my fault. I should kill Ron. He's going to apologize to you if I have to beat it from him."
Draco looked at him with shining eyes. "Weasley could apologize a million times, but you stayed here with me, and that means everything to me. What other people say or think doesn't matter." He looked at the steaming water. "Turn your back. I still have a shred of modesty where you're concerned."
Harry turned his back, listening to Draco slide into the water.
"Alright, turn around," Draco said.
Harry returned to Draco's side, clearing off a small stool by the tub to sit on. Draco was laying back in the water with eyes closed, the heat making him feel weak again. Harry picked up a washcloth and soaped it, running it gently over Draco's shoulders and chest. Draco submitted to his attention, enjoying Harry's soothing touch. Neither said anything for a long time, feeling their bond in the silence around them.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"You will please refrain from sickening displays of affection in my presence," Professor Snape said icily. Harry's hand strayed from its subtle progress toward Draco's. Draco only looked at Snape insolently and refused to remove himself from Harry's lap. Harry was sitting up on Dumbledore's couch and Draco was lying across him, head propped on the cushy arm of the sofa.
The two boys were having the first of their daily audiences with Professors Snape and McGonagall. Snape was thoroughly displeased to be there and obviously had managed to blame Harry for the situation. He swept out, robes flying behind him, as soon as he had delivered their homework. Professor McGonagall was extremely uncomfortable, and only stayed a little longer. She did try her best to reassure the two boys that they were safe, and that Professor Dumbledore would return soon.
She finally rose to leave, pulling a small handful of folded paper from her pocket and handing it to Harry. "Oh, Potter, here, these came for you today. From your friends, I imagine. When you write back, remember not to mention your, er, situation or your whereabouts."
"Yes, Professor," Harry said absently, barely noticing when she left. He shuffled the envelopes. The first was from Hermione. He recognized her tiny, cramped handwriting. The second was from Ron, and Harry's heart leapt when he saw it.
Draco rose up, leaning over to kiss Harry on the cheek. "I'm going to go lie down again. You come wake me up when you're ready to talk."
Harry nodded, grateful for Draco's empathy. Draco walked slowly out of the room, leaving Harry alone with his letters.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------