To Be Only Me
Disclaimer: I am only borrowing Harry Potter and the associated Wizarding world from J.K. Rowling.
Dedication: To Roguemessenger for the wonderful stories she shared and her hope for happy endings.
For: My birthday and Harry's half birthday
Caution: a relationship between two men is contained in this story. If this is unpalatable for you, I recommend reading another work.
A big thank you to Short stuff, my first ever review. You really made my day!
i want to feel and then some
i have five senses
i need thousands more at least
the world can wait
the world can wait
i want drink the water from your well
i want to tell you things i'll never tell
The World Can Wait-Over the Rhine
As he slowly swam toward consciousness, Harry was aware of warmth. It was more than physical sensation however, reaching to his insides and filling a hole in his center long ignored but ever present. Luxuriating in this effusive radiance, Harry remained in limbo, soaking up all he could, thirsty in a way he never named. Semi-conscious, his ears did catch the murmur of voices and was surprised in a vague way at the vibration under his ear. Awareness slowly creeping in, Harry guessed he was pressed against another, the rumbling of someone who had spoken, his ear pressed tightly against a body. He did not know the words being spoken, but could sense the concern and tenderness surrounding him, the sounds differing by three.
The next sense that awoke was touch, his scalp sensitive to the stroking of his hair. If the warmth around him was not enough, Harry certainly did not want to disturb the gentle carding sensation on his head. Still, it was a more kindly wake-up call than he was used to whether it be a vision of blood and violence from Voldemort or Seamus rousing Harry by rudely removing blankets to ensure he was in time for breakfast before class.
The dark haired Gryffindor was now able to distinguish the physical warmth emanated along the length of his front side. His back was not cold per se, but he basked in the body heat soaking into him. He could not move his limbs almost as though neural communication from the brain was shut down, but Harry was not worried. Tingling pinpricks were making themselves aware as more sultry heat was absorbed through his skin.
A soft sigh of contentment escaped his lips halting the almost familiar voices saying things he still could not quite discern.
"Harry?" a masculine voice asked close to his ear exposed to the air.
He could almost feel the smile trying to form on his lips, still basking in the affection that the voice wrapped around him. A voice he was certain came from the body he rested against even without the rumbling under his ear pressed against another's chest and an answering resonance in that formerly hollow center in his own breast.
"Harry? Can you hear me?" the voice repeated its gentle inquiry, fingers moving from his scalp to caress the cheek not pressed against a pleasantly scented body.
Harry noticed there was an artificial fragrance that seemed blend well with the natural masculine aroma of the body he was pressed against, but underlying that was the sweetness of vanilla and a spice that he could not name, sharp and aromatic but not overwhelming, reminiscent of cranberries.
As content and relaxed as he felt despite reluctant nerve endings reminding him of their slow awakening, Harry could hear the concern laced in the voices around him. Slowly, the midnight haired young man cracked his eyes, only able to see a silver and green striped tie neatly resting against a white shirt despite his presence. Harry's over sensitized skin was able to tell him that there was not only a body next to him, but an arm around his back and the white shirt under his cheek was not the rough cotton oxford as he wore, instead a much smoother fabric. Still, the pleasant, comforting essence was all Harry's nose could detect even as other odors tried to make themselves known, but the Gryffindor was stubborn in all things even situational olfactory clues.
"He is waking," a young female voice expressed relief.
Harry did not want to open his eyes further as light pressed painfully against his retinas. As his lashes fluttered against his face, he felt the fingertips that rested against his face disappear. Releasing a whimper of displeasure, the Gryffindor felt the body he rested against shift in response to a movement he could only feel. A softly muttered spell and soon the fingers returned to his tangled hair.
"The shades have been closed," the tenor voice spoke, rumbling against his ear.
With a few seconds hesitation, Harry managed to open his eyes again. He was relieved no unrelenting light was drilling into his head. A soft glow filled the immediate space as charmed torches glowed steadily around the surface he rested on. Harry could recognize the spacious Infirmary with its astringent odor and a bit too hard bed that he spent more time than one person should need getting to know in his years at Hogwarts.
While his eyes no longer protested the level of light, Harry's attempt to tilt his head and see above the school shirt and tie to learn who he was resting against met with a shooting headache that advised him to remain immobile. The abrupt cessation of his movements clued in the others Harry could only hear not see.
"Get him to swallow this," a brisk female voice different from the earlier one commanded.
Again, the warm fingers left him and returned with a cool vial pressed against his lips. Obediently, Harry swallowed, cringing at the sharp flavor of garlic and sardines. However, the throbbing aftermath of his attempted movements began to fade and the Gryffindor breathed in relief. His hand twitched, trapped between himself and the one he rested against.
"What..." he finally managed to speak.
"What happened?" the first woman who spoke finished his sentence as Harry finally recognized Hermione.
She continued on even before he croaked his affirmation, "You foolishly tried to capture the last of the Deatheaters by laying a trap in the Shrieking Shack. Luckily, your bonded guess you might do something like this and asked Ron and me to back you up before he informed Remus. One would think that taking care of Voldemort and coming out alive would be good enough for you. But no, you had to take down three of the most dangerous Deatheaters by using yourself as bait!"
"Bonded?" Harry queried, even as his mind processed images brought forth by Hermione's words.
"He did take quite a blow to the head so some memory loss could be a result," an older female voice Harry identified as Nurse Pomfrey explained.
"It would take more than a knock to the hard skull of this Gryffindor to shake loose the few thoughts he has," the amused masculine voice chuckled, rumbling pleasantly into Harry.
The dark haired young man did not quite have a name for the person who spoke but a sense of safety and fondness filled him.
"What shall we do with you, Harry?" the warm tenor asked, a ghosting of lips brushed against his forehead. "Luckily I am not offended when my Beloved abandons me to extinguish the remaining evil in the Wizarding World."
The word "Beloved" flitted through Harry's still confused mind coming up with a proud yet tender smirk and intense blue-gray eyes. His recovering body was twitching involuntarily as the hand left his hair and pulled him more tightly against the firm body. Trying yet again, Harry looked up to see a somewhat fuzzy face without the corrective lenses he usually wore, but the cues were enough to recognize it: a pointed chin with a strong aristocratic nose and broad forehead. White-blond hair framed the handsome face as dark lashes surrounded steely eyes. Harry could not look away from the eyes, the blue becoming more prominent as a smile crept onto thin pink lips, revealing perfect white teeth. A mouth Harry recalled had called him names both foul and fair and eyes that revealed something more than cool disdain only when looking at Harry.
"Draco," he breathed, images of a ceremony officiated by Dumbledore tumbling through his mind's eye.
"He does recall," the Malfoy scion acknowledged, the regard in those eyes warming the center of Harry. "You are still a reckless Gryffindor for all that you have embraced me and your Slytherin side."
"I just wanted..." Harry began.
"To end the last bit of Voldemort's power," Draco finished, shaking his head ruefully at the Gryffindor's impulsive if genuine actions. "As you no doubt understand, the Deatheaters are directionless without the Dark Lord, but they can still cause pain and suffering. I laud your heart and determination, Beloved, but it is time to rest and focus your attention on more worthy cause."
Harry frowned in bewilderment.
"Me of course," the Slytherin laughed, tweaking his Beloved's nose. "You did not think that because your power levels were increased by our bonding so you could defeat Voldemort meant that was the end. I expect to be paid back for all I have endured. You are committed to me and I expect the honoring and cherishing to come soon. We have not even had a decent honeymoon."
Harry could only splutter helplessly as Hermione giggled behind him.
"Soulmates with a Gryffindor indeed. The only redeeming factor is you are a half decent wizard and part Slytherin," Draco stated pompously, the light in his eyes belying his teasing.
Recovering his wits, Harry demanded, "I promise to take you where you want but not without a kiss."
The blue-gray eyes gazing at him were all the Gryffindor could see even while his vision remained slightly out of focus without his glasses.
Draco smirked, glancing at the warm rose lips of his Beloved before the last inches between their faces disappeared. Harry opened his mouth, welcoming all that Draco had to offer him. Previously unresponsive limbs moved to better positions: hands sinking into silky blonde locks and resting against a strong, secure chest while legs continued to entwine.
Heat and love and all-encompassing joy suffused Harry as he yielded to his Bonded, the man he never knew he needed until the missing parts of him were filled.
"Never leave me to worry about you like that again. I cannot lose you," Draco whispered fiercely against kiss-swollen lips before reclaiming them.
Harry could only respond with his entire body, heart and soul. His life, which had never seemed in his control before, was now his to live or leave in another's hands. He could not ask for more than the man who had proposed the bonding, his former school rival and present soulmate. Harry could only hope their lifetime journey continued to hold as much joy and depth of love as he now felt welling in his heart and expressed in their embrace.