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The first time it happens, Draco’s fifteen and terrified. He’s only had his soulmark - Harry Potter, written along his hipbone in dreadful handwriting - for about a week, but he should’ve known it wouldn’t take long for people to find out. After all, it is Prince Harry Potter who they’re talking about.
The Kidnappers have him tied to a chair and gagged, though thankfully not blindfolded. The back of his head is bleeding from where they hit him with the hilt of a knife, but otherwise he’s unharmed. It takes two hours for the prince to find him.
When he does, he comes in with his sword and - almost single handedly - harms or kills all of the kidnappers. Show-off, Draco thinks while rolling his eyes.
The Prince takes the gag out of his mouth and unties him, and then gives a blinding smile. He opens his mouth, but Draco beats him to it.
“Don’t think I am impressed by this little display.” He says, standing on slightly shaky legs. “I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you.”
And then stomps away without another word, leaving Prince Harry standing in the middle of the room, mouth still open, with a confused frown on his face.
*
The second time it happens, Draco’s less afraid. It has only been a few months since the first time he got kidnapped, and it goes about the same; they hit him in the back of the head and then take him to another location while he’s passed out.
He’s tied to a chair again, and, this time, not gagged, but blindfolded. Draco’s rubbed his wrists raw trying to get out of the ropes by the time the Prince arrives, with more guards this time.
He takes off the blindfold with the same blinding smile as the last time and unties Draco’s wrists. Draco opens his mouth again, but this time, the prince beats him to it.
“I know, I know, you’re not impressed by me saving you,” he has a dimple. “Even if it’s the second time this has happened.”
Draco momentarily forgets how to speak. Heat rushes to his face, and he shakes his head to clear it.
“I wouldn’t need saving if it weren’t for you.” He points out.
“Technically, you wouldn’t need saving if you were more careful about getting yourself kidnapped.” Harry says. Draco glares tightly, and he laughs. “It’s alright, love, I’ll always be here to save you.”
It makes Draco’s cheeks absolutely burn - which drags a lazy, smug grin from the Prince - and Draco struggles for words.
“I - I - you-” He begins, and Harry slips his sword back into his belt.
“Cat got your tongue?” He asks cooly.
Draco glares.
“This is your fault, Potter.” He snaps, and then walks away.
*
It’s - thankfully - more than a few months before he is kidnapped again. It’s enough time that Draco is sixteen now, and, somewhow, thinks himself more prepared for this. This time, however, it doesn’t stop with a knife-hilt to the head. Draco’s lost most of his fear by then, which means he doesn’t have much incentive for keeping his mouth shut. He earns a bloody mouth and a black-eye for his troubles.
When the Prince comes - not to save him, because Draco is not some maden in need - his smile fades when he sees Draco’s face.
“They hurt you?” he says, running careful fingertips along the edges of Draco’s split lip. It sends a shiver through Draco.
“I’m fine,” he says stiffly. He is, really. It’s no worse than he’s gotten because of fights at school. “Would you mind untying me, oh my saviour?”
Evidently, Harry thinks that if Draco can give him cheek he is fine enough, because he grins and straddles Draco’s thighs - he’s lying on his front this time, with his hands tied behind his back - and gets to working on the knots.
“You know, I’m your prince.” Harry points out. “And your soulmate. You should be treating me with more respect.”
He doesn’t sound like he particularly minds it, though, so Draco only shakes his head and bats his eyelashes, even though Harry can’t see him.
“Oh?” He says. “What is it that you would like me to call you? Prince Potter? King? Wait, no. Saint Potter?”
Harry laughs richly and shakes his head.
“Harry’s fine.” he says. Draco ignores the flutter in his stomach at the sound of his soulmate’s laugh. Harry gets off his thighs, and it takes Draco a moment to realize his hands are free. When he does, he sits up and rubs at them weakly. Harry’s worried frown is back again, and he runs a finger along the edges of the bruise around Draco’s eye. “Let me assign you some guards.”
Draco laughs disbelievingly before he realizes Harry’s serious.
“No.” He says. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” Harry frowns.
“Why not?” Draco repeats. “I don’t know how often you get out of the palace, Potter, but us commoners don’t go around with a security detail on our tails.”
“You’re my soulmate,” Harry frowns. “You’re not exactly like everyone else.”
Draco barks out a disbelieving laugh and shakes his head.
“No,” he says, and leaves.”
*
It’s an entire year before he gets kidnapped again. He’s seventeen, entirely too busy for this, and wishing he had said yes to the guards Harry had offered. Instead of hitting him with the hilt of a knife to knock him unconcious, he recieves a stab wound to the side.
He’s so weak from the blood-loss he’s not even tied up.
By the time Harry arrives, Draco’s head is spinning, and his body feels incredibly cold. Harry presses a hand to his forehead and Draco whimpers and curls up, trying to get away from the scorching heat that is Harry’s hand.
Draco can’t hear past the ringing in his ears, and his vision is blurry, but he catches sight of Harry’s face and sees no trace of his handsome grin, only a grim frown between his eyebrows. Draco tries to soothe it away with his thumb, but, before he can reach Harry’s face, Harry grabs his hand between his and kisses his knuckles, before dropping it back to the floor.
There are hands around his back and under his knees, and then he’s being lifted up. His head drops back slightly, and there’s a sharp pang of pain from the bleeding wound at his side. He passes out.
He wakes in the palace, a day later, and is only let go after the physicians in the palace approve it.
Harry doesn’t give him the option to refuse the guards this time.
*
When he’s eighteen, it happens again. Thankfully, it is not nearly as bad as the last time. In fact, nothing happens. He’s tied up again, but he’s not even knocked unconcious. When Harry finds him, the wave of relief is so clear over his face that Draco’s plan to taunt him goes right out the window and he can only smile reassuringly and murmur, “I’m okay,” as Harry unties him.
“This is getting tiring, Malfoy,” Harry teases lightly. He kisses the back of Draco’s neck as he unties the ropes - a liberty he’s been taking lately anytime they see each other, which never fails to make Draco’s stomach flutter pleasantly - and Draco smiles.
“Is it? For you?” he asks, voice dripping with irony. “Because I just love getting kidnapped yearly.”
Harry snorts and finishes untying him. Draco rolls his shoulders but doesn’t immediately stand from the chair. Harry comes back around and stares at him intently. His eyes are entirely too green.
“What?” Draco asks, a little defensively.
“Let me court you.” Harry says.
“What?” Draco asks again, out of surprise this time.
“Let me court you,” Harry repeats. “I want to court you, Draco Malfoy.”
Draco opens his mouth with the full intent to ask ‘are you insane’, but, instead, what comes out is, “Okay.”
Harry grins brighter than Draco’s ever seen him.
*
Over the next year, they go on dates on weekly bases. They kiss, but never spend the night together - it’d be inappropriate according to courting rules, apparently - and, somewhere along the way, Draco finds himself falling madly in love with Harry.
They court for a full year before Harry proposes, and, when he does, Draco doesn’t even think of saying no.
They set the date for may, on a relatively boring spring day. Everything’s perfect. Which is, of course, why Draco has to get kidnapped. Again.
*
“Seriously, love?” Harry complains, when he comes to save him. “On our wedding day? It couldn’t wait?”
“I tried telling them,” Draco says, waiting patiently for Harry to untie him. “However, they were busy next week, so it had to be now.”
Harry shakes his head fondly at Draco’s cheek and kisses along his spine as he unties his wrists. He peppers the irritated skin with small, light kisses that bring a dopy smile to Draco’s face.
“You’re going to cause me to gray early.” He says, frowning as he stands. “Is that what you want? A gray-haired husband?”
Draco laughs and stands, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and pecking the hollow of his throat, the only exposed piece of skin at lip-level.
“I’d love you even if you went grey at twenty two.” He says, tugging on the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck. Harry smiles and indulges him, leaning down so Draco can press a small kiss to his lips.
“Let’s hope I don’t,” Harry says with a mock-scowl. “I wouldn’t appreciate it very much. So I’d appreciate it if you can stop getting kidnapped every two seconds.”
Draco laughs. “You’ll always come for me, anyways.”
Harry’s smile softens. “Of course I will, love.”
Draco smiles and buries his head on Harry’s shoulder.
“My saviour,” he murmurs. It has somehow stopped being entirely sarcastic.
Harry laughs and pulls away. “Come on. Let’s get married.”
He opens the door for Draco, and then smacks his arse as he crosses the doorway, for which Draco sends him an amused glare. Harry gives him a cheeky grin, and Draco can’t quite keep the smile off his face.