Chapter Four: Souls Together
Harry would never forget the day Draco was made to leave. The blonde pleaded with Dumbledore, but the old man was adamant. No one could stay in Hogwarts for the summer holidays. Except Harry, of course, but only because his relatives could not be expected to take in an insane person.
Draco had railed against that. He told them over and over that Harry wasn't insane. That he was getting better. That he could help Harry get better. But they refused to listen, and, after a tearless farewell, Draco was sent home on the Hogwarts Express. Harry watched him go with dry eyes, and then, wordlessly, spun on his heel and left without waiting for the professors.
He fell into a kind of stupor after that. He refused to eat, and did not seem to get any sleep. His eyes were always open, wide and vacant. But for all that, he was fine. He lost no weight, and did not seem to suffer any ill-effects.
Harry slept with Draco that night, the blonde holding him close. They whispered to each other, laughing over the foolishness of the professors. Who could separate them? With Harry's powers, and Draco's strength, nothing could keep them apart. They fell asleep with a gentle, chaste kiss, together in Draco's bed.
Harry remained in his motionless stupor until Draco came back. That was sooner than expected. Worried about what could be causing this, the professors sent for Draco. The Slytherin was close to Harry, and everyone knew that.
As soon as Draco laid eyes on Harry, he went over and took the ebon-haired boy's hands. "Go on," he said softly, yet loudly enough for the spectators to hear. The professors and reporters who had sneaked in held their breaths.
Harry stirred, and life came back into his eyes. He looked at Draco and smiled. "I knew," he said simply, before gathering the blonde into a sweet embrace. Cameras flashed simultaneously, but for once, neither young man cared. Arms wrapped around each other, they went out onto the Quidditch Pitch to sit and talk. Harry thought that Draco's house was absolutely beautiful, even if his father didn't believe him until they had proved it. But Harry quite liked Lucius Malfoy now. Harry rested his head on Draco's chest as they lay down, listening to the other boy's steady heartbeat. He pressed his lips to his chest, grazing the shirt lovingly, and the heartbeat quickened slightly. Harry smiled to himself and looked at Draco, an indecipherable look shining in his eyes. Draco saw it and understood.
"I'll drag you down into my madness," Harry told him quietly. "Because I am. I'm insane, and sooner or later I'll act on it. I'll kill someone with my wandless magic. We'll kill someone, soul-mate." Draco knew this. He knew it as surely as he believed that Harry was capable of doing magic without his wand.
"I know. I'll stay," he said softly. Harry considered him for a moment, eyes never wavering. Then, finally, he nodded slowly.
"So be it."
