QL: Holyhead Harpies, Captain, R7: Soulbond/Soulmate!au

Word Count: 2997

every shade of the rainbow

Exhausted from the rollercoaster they'd been on from the moment they got caught by the Snatchers, but still filled with the remnants of the adrenaline from escaping, Harry startled when Hermione tugged on his sleeve, pulling him from the room where Ollivander was already drifting off to sleep.

Harry closed the door behind them with a soft snick.

"What is it?"

"Harry… your wings."

Harry blinked at her. "What about them?" He turned his head to see if he could see anything wrong with them, but the fluffy down feathers looked exactly the same as they always did. Blinding white, and still unmarred.

"You've got a coloured feather."

"What? How? Where?"

"Near the bottom. It's iridescent green, Harry. It's a beautiful colour."

"But…" Harry frowned. Feathers only turned from white to coloured after a significant interaction with one's soulmate. He didn't know who his was, and this was the first feather that had turned since he'd gotten his wings. "Who?"

He tried to think about who he'd been into contact with, but there was nobody… or at least, nobody good. Bill and Fleur were a soulmate pair. Ron and Hermione were a pair—not that that had been a shock to anyone.

Everyone had been disappointed when Harry hadn't gained any colours around Ginny. Platitudes of Ginny not having her wings yet had been thrown around, but Harry knew deep within him that it was not to be.

"It has to be Malfoy," Ron pointed out.

Harry shook his head, horrified. "I—He—No."

"It has to be," Hermione agreed. "We all know he recognised you, Harry. He lied for you. That's significant enough for you to gain a colour."

"It's not like there are any better options," Ron said, sighing. "Nothing is ever easy for you, is it, mate?"

…

"You've got colours," Ginny said softly, as she perched on the edge of the rock, sliding into Harry's side.

"Colours? I thought there was just one."

"Three," she corrected, looking at his back. "You didn't know?"

Harry shook his head.

The battle was over. For the last half an hour, Harry had sequestered himself out here, hidden under the cloak of nightfall as he stared pointlessly out into the Black Lake.

He could have been sought out in a heartbeat if he was needed. He didn't expect to be. Now that the battle had been fought and the Light had won, what use did the wizarding world have for him?

Ginny stayed silent for a moment, staring out at the still dark waters of the lake. Finally, she asked, "Do you know who your soulmate is?"

Harry sighed. "Ron and Hermione are convinced it's Malfoy."

Her eyebrows rose. "Draco?"

"Well, I certainly didn't mean Lucius."

Almost like it was involuntary, she snorted through a laugh. "Did he do anything during the battle that could be considered significant?"

Harry closed his eyes.

"I saved his life. Twice."

Ginny glanced at him and bit her lip. "I think that's pretty conclusive, Harry. I'm… sorry you're not happy about it."

Harry smiled sadly, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, avoiding the wings that must've popped up when she turned seventeen, still perfectly white. "I'm sorry it wasn't you."

"I…" Ginny looked away. "Yeah. Me too."

…

"So you believe he should be let off scot-free?" One of the members of the Wizengamot—an old woman wearing a haughty look, face pinched like she was sucking on a lemon—asked, scowling. "Despite the fact that he attempted to murder Albus Dumbledore on multiple occasions?"

Harry rubbed a hand over his eyes. "I believe there should be some punishment," he allowed. "But I don't believe Draco Malfoy deserves to be sent to Azkaban. He was a child, and he was being threatened with the life of his mother. I don't believe that many people would be able to stand up to that kind of threat, never mind the fact that it was Voldemort who was threatening him. Would you have told him no?"

The woman didn't answer. She sat down huffily in her seat and looked away. Kingsley winked at Harry slyly as he stood up. "Are there any further questions for the witness?"

When nobody stood, Harry was allowed to leave the stand and return to the gallery, where Ron and Hermione waited for him. They'd sat beside him for every single one of the Death Eater trials so far, a united picture as they'd always been.

None were as important to Harry as this one, though.

While he may not be pleased that Draco was his soulmate, he also had an inherent need to make sure he was okay. How much of that was the connection and how much was just Harry, he didn't know.

The Wizengamot left for their discussions, and Harry glanced down at the floor to see Draco watching him. He looked scared—understandably so—and Harry tried to offer him a comforting nod, before he turned his attention to Ron and Hermione, who were talking in low voices beside him.

He let them distract him until the members of the Wizengamot filed back into the chamber.

Harry didn't think he sucked in a full breath until Kingsley announced that Draco would be let free; albeit with many hours of community service to do, and restrictions on his movements for five years.

It was better than Harry had expected.

…

"Potter, wait!"

Harry paused in the corridor and turned to see Draco walking towards him. Ron and Hermione each touched Harry's arm in silent support.

"We'll wait in the Atrium for you," Hermione whispered.

Harry nodded to his friends and stayed where he was as they walked away. He noticed the curious looks being thrown his way as people exited the corridor.

"Thank you," Draco said, once he came close enough that he didn't have to shout. "You didn't have to—"

"Of course I did," Harry replied, shaking his head. "And it's… you're welcome. I, uh… I have your wand. If you want it back. I don't know if you—"

"Keep it," Draco replied. "Or burn it. I… I'm going to get a new one."

"Okay."

They fell into a tense silence, and Harry let out a huff of laughter. "This is awkward, isn't it?"

Draco nodded. "I don't know how I'm supposed to talk to you. You… we hated each other. We were on opposite sides of a war. And you're my soulmate. It's…" he shrugged.

"It's weird," Harry said.

"Maybe we could write?" Draco suggested, scuffing his foot on the floor. "Try and… not hate each other?"

"Okay," Harry agreed. He turned and then looked back. "But I don't hate you. Just so you know."

"I don't hate you either. Much as I tried."

Despite himself, Harry smiled slightly as he walked away.

…

Going into Healer training had been Hermione's idea. When all was said and done, Harry had been given time to accept that he had a life that was his own now, and Auror training just hadn't been what he wanted. As much as he liked the idea of being a protector, the thought of spending the rest of his life fighting just exhausted him.

Becoming a Healer gave him the best of both worlds. He'd be able to help people without fighting; or as Hermione put it, he could satisfy his saviour complex without getting killed.

Ron had still gone into Auror training, and Hermione had gone into the Magical Creatures office, though Harry didn't doubt she'd be taking over the Ministry entirely within ten years.

From their letters, which were much more frequent than Harry had anticipated, he knew that Draco had gone into Gringotts to train as a Curse Breaker. Given an opinion, Harry wouldn't have expected that from him, but in an odd way, it suited him. He'd always excelled in Charms, and Hermione said he'd been one of the best in the class with both Runes and Arithmancy.

"Hey."

Harry startled when a hand landed on his back, just above his wing joint, and he turned to see Draco standing there, smiling nervously, with a bag in his hand.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

Draco shrugged. "You said in your letter that you were going to be stuck in the library all week, so I thought I could bring you some snacks to help get you through the day."

He lifted the bag and put it on the table. Harry opened the top of it to see more than a few snacks. There were pastries and cakes, and all of Harry's favourite sweets from Honeydukes.

Harry's heart beat a little faster.

"I, uh. I'm not allowed to eat in the library," he said softly. When Draco's face fell, he added, "but I'm about due a break. Wanna share these pastries out in the square? I could probably use some fresh air."

"I'd… like that."

Neither of them noticed as a flight feather each turned a sunny yellow colour.

…

"Sorry to bother you," Draco said, looking anywhere but at Harry. "I… I didn't know where else to go."

Harry opened the door to his flat wider to let Draco in. "It's fine. Is everything okay?"

Draco shook his head, and he followed Harry through to the kitchen and sat down at the table.

"Tea or coffee?"

"Coffee, please," Draco replied softly.

"You wanna tell me what's going on?" Harry asked as he set about making coffee for them both. It was early evening and probably not the best idea to drink more caffeine, but Draco looked like he could use it.

"I've been disowned."

The words were said quietly, but Harry heard them like they'd been shouted. He frowned. "Why?"

"My parents have been talking about a marriage contract for me with the Greengrasses. I overheard them a few times discussing it, but they hadn't said anything to me about it. They told me today that they've arranged the first meeting for this weekend."

"Oh. I… do they know we're soulmates?"

"Of course they do. And they don't care. It's not even really about you, Harry. A male soulmate won't give me a blood heir, and that's all that really matters."

"I don't understand how any of this gets you disowned." Harry joined him at the table, pushing a coffee mug at him. Draco wrapped both hands around it and looked down at the table.

"I told them I wouldn't be getting married," Draco replied. "I told them that, however slow it's going, even if we never… Even if we don't have a romantic bond, I won't be marrying a witch."

"Ah. I'm sorry?"

Draco looked at him then, and chuckled low in his throat. "You're really not good at this, are you?"

"Really not," Harry agreed sheepishly. "I mean, I can go and get Hermione for you if you want someone who knows what to say about things like this, but…"

Draco shook his head. "I guess… I guess the only person I really wanted to see was you. So here I am."

"You can stay here," Harry offered. "I have a spare room. At least until you can find somewhere?"

"I'm going to stay with Theo and Blaise. They offered me the spare room last month, when I told them that I'd overheard the marriage talks. They… they knew what I was going to do before I did, I guess."

"I'm glad you've got good friends. Uh. Do you want to watch a movie? Since you're here anyway."

Draco frowned. "What's a movie?"

Harry stared, before chuckling. "Oh, I'm going to blow your mind."

…

Harry glanced into the box he'd just carried up the stairs and burst out laughing, pulling one of the DVDs from inside. It was a copy of the first movie they'd watched. "Ron has his own collection now too."

"If you keep laughing that I have something in common with Weasley, I'm going to push you down the stairs," Draco said, throwing a pillow at Harry.

"Not my fault that Purebloods clearly have been missing out on Muggle movies their whole life, is it?"

"Just get another box, and make yourself useful," Draco grumbled, making Harry laugh again.

They were moving Draco into his new flat, though how Harry had found himself roped into doing the hard labour, he wasn't sure. Draco had levitated all of the boxes of clothes—there were so many, Harry hadn't been able to believe they were just for one person—while leaving Harry to carry the boxes of breakable things that couldn't be levitated.

Somehow, it didn't seem like a fair deal.

By the time they were finished—or by the time Draco was satisfied, which was three hours longer than Harry would have liked—Harry was a sweaty mess and he wanted nothing more than a shower.

"You're unfairly attractive when you're this messy," Draco complained, falling into a plush armchair. "It's actually offensive."

Harry blinked. "You find me attractive?"

"Do you not have any mirrors in your flat, Potter? Of course you're attractive, don't be obtuse."

"I… guess I didn't realise that you were… attracted to me. At all."

Draco scoffed. "Oh, yay. My soulmate is an oblivious idiot. I feel like this is punishment for my crimes. Extra punishment. Someone out there hates me."

"You're a jerk."

"I probably am."

…

"You look like shit." Draco vanished the ash from his shoulders as he stepped out of the Floo and sat down on the sofa beside Harry. "What's wrong?"

Harry didn't even bother looking up from the drink he'd been nursing for the last hour.

"It's nothing. Just a bad day at work. I don't think I'll be very entertaining company tonight, though."

"When are you ever?" Draco nudged his shoulder, but when Harry didn't laugh like he was clearly expecting, he sobered. "Harry, what's wrong?"

Harry sighs, and his shoulders slump. "I… I had a patient today. She'd been in an accident, she and her boyfriend. He was in the next room being worked on. She wasn't in as bad shape as him." He stays quiet for a moment, then continues, softer, "She was only seventeen, Draco. Her wings, she had some colours, but not many. She was so sweet."

"Okay. Did she—"

"No, no, she didn't die. Her boyfriend did though," Harry said, running a hand through his hair. "She knew before they came to tell her. Her wings just… faded until they weren't there anymore. It was… I've never seen it happen before. She was…" He shook his head. "I've never seen someone cry like that."

Draco hesitated for a minute and then wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders, pulling him into his side. Harry let himself be pulled, and he pressed his face into Draco's robes as his own tears fell.

Draco rubbed his shoulder, and then put his other hand on Harry's head, stroking his hair until Harry had settled down.

"Sorry," Harry muttered into his chest.

"You don't ever have to be sorry for this," Draco replied softly.

Harry pulled away a little so he could look at Draco, and then, as though pulled by magnets, their lips brushed together for the very first time.

…

"I don't know why I let you convince me to come here," Draco complained, shaking his head. "There's so much red."

Harry laughed, already joyful with the occasion, and spun Draco on the dance floor. Draco yelped, but grinned when Harry pulled him back close.

"You came because you didn't want anyone else touching me in this suit," Harry pointed out, and Draco couldn't actually disagree with that. The best man suit Harry was wearing had been fitted to within an inch of its life, and Draco very much appreciated the view.

"You look edible," he agreed with a smug smirk. "But since you're all mine, nobody else gets to touch."

"You're so possessive," Harry said, rolling his eyes. He smiled fondly at his soulmate. "You know I don't want anyone else, right?"

"I do know that," Draco replied, nodding his head. "But it doesn't hurt to hear it."

When the song they'd been dancing to ended, Harry turned to the blond. "Shall we go and get a drink?

"Sure." Draco captured Harry's hand in his own and they walked over to the makeshift bar. Charlie was behind it, and he grinned at them widely when they approached.

"What are you drinking?"

"How'd you get roped into bar-duty?" Harry asked, leaning on the bar.

"It was either me or George, and Hermione has Muggle relatives here," Charlie said, shaking his head.

"You know what, that's fair," Harry said, nodding his head. Merlin only knew what George would put in the drinks. "I'll just get a butterbeer; I'm on call from midnight."

"I'll have the same," Draco added.

They got their drinks, and walked over to their table.

"Hey, Potter?" Harry looked over his shoulder at Draco, just as he leaned in for a kiss. When they parted, Draco added, "I got you something."

"Oh? For what? It's not my birthday or—"

"Just take it, dumbass."

Harry snorted. "Okay?"

Draco slipped a box from his pocket and handed it over. Harry opened it curiously and then gaped when he saw what was inside. A black rope bracelet sat on a red satin cushion. Hanging from the bracelet was a feather charm.

"It's the same colour as the first coloured feather we got," he murmured, picking up the charm to get a better look. It was a perfect match to the iridescent green that he'd gotten way back at Malfoy Manor, when the thought of Draco being his soulmate was almost unimaginable.

But look at them now. Their wings bursting with colours in every shade of the rainbow, a testament to how far they'd come from the enemies they once were.

"I thought it was fitting." Draco cupped Harry's cheek with one hand. "I love you."

Harry smiled and nuzzled his nose against Draco's. "I love you, too, Draco."