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“Potter! What the hell?” Draco spat as the Prat Who Lived dragged him by his robes into an empty classroom after their impromptu scuffle in the hallway.
Flicking his wand at the door, Harry locked and warded it for privacy. Draco spared a thought to grudgingly admit he was impressed that the wonder boy knew such advanced layering spells in their third year before rounding on him. Expecting the retaliating shove before it happened, Harry followed the momentum until his back hit a wall. Draco closed the distance with a snarl but stopped short of touching him again.
“Explain why I shouldn’t hex you within an inch of your bloody life, Potter,” Draco seethed.
Harry fixed him with a glare as he hiked up the hem of his baggy t-shirt. A jolt of savage satisfaction coursed through him when Draco’s jaw fell slack. His eyes avidly coursed along his thin frame before widening when they reached the dragon soulmark over his heart. Draco was hard-pressed to deny its beauty with scales of mossy green and silver eyes brimming with haughty superiority. There was no pretending he didn’t know who it represented.
“Goddamn it,” Draco grumbled.
The proof of their bond was both exhilarating and terrifying. Exhilarating, in that he’d hoped for a tie to Harry, but terrifying in that he doubted the Gryffindor would be best pleased with their situation. Recognizing the need for reciprocity, he roughly untucked and unbuttoned his shirt, yanking the fabric aside and revealing his secret to the boy he could no longer claim to hate.
Harry’s trembling fingers hovered over the golden phoenix with fierce emerald eyes soaring over his rival’s heart and blinked back unexpected tears. He’d always wondered what shape his soulmark would take; how the Wild Magic that bestowed them viewed him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the Ancients’ choice, but he couldn’t deny the obvious symbolism.
In an unconscious need for reassurance, Harry patted the dragon on his chest, noting Draco’s subtle shiver with interest. Chancing a peek at the boy standing stiff in front of him and avoiding his gaze, Harry’s stomach filled with butterflies at the rosy tint suffusing his cheeks.
Could they bury the hatchet and have a genuine connection?
Since entering the world of magic and learning about the soulmark that began appearing when he turned eleven, he dreamed of the special person who would love him for him; not his fame or his Galleons. Someone who would understand him and accept him—even on bad days when he didn’t want to leave his bed after nightmares of the Dursleys or encounters with Voldemort.
Though, when the dragon became visible, he’d researched the symbolism behind the creature, as well as names from other cultures, hoping against hope that it didn’t represent the boy who despised him. But the accidental brush of skin during their fight in the hall awakened their bond and confirmed his worst fears.
Harry spent a few quiet moments cursing the ancient magic that believed he could have a civil conversation with the Slytherin Prince; much less accept him as his soulmate.
Yet, the more he thought about it, the less crazy it seemed. Draco despised the Boy Who Lived persona as much as he did (if not more, truthfully) and he sure as hell didn’t need Harry’s money.
But love? That’s where Harry remained uncertain.
“So…” Harry said, his voice quieter than Draco had ever heard it. “What now?”
Leaving his shirt undone, Draco shrugged nonchalantly to disguise his nerves and pretended he didn’t notice Harry’s eyes lingering on his torso while he fought the urge to preen.
“We tell my parents, first of all.” Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Draco held up an imperious hand. “No, listen to me, for once. Soulmates are not taken lightly. Our magic called to each other and marked us before we were born. That is not insignificant, Potter. They will accept it and cut all ties with any who wish you harm.”
He allowed his meaning to sink in, smirking at Harry’s curt nod.
“My family will also guarantee you protection, should you ever need it.”
Harry’s expression turned shrewd and Draco arched a curious brow at the Slytherin-esque transformation. “Protection, huh? Even from Muggles?”
Draco frowned as the bond between them flooded with a rush of anxiety and a hefty dose of fear. Since the acknowledgement of their connection was new, the influx of each other's emotions was more keenly felt, and Draco didn’t like the boulder taking up residence in his intestines that mirrored the weight in Harry’s.
“Why would you need it?” he asked carefully.
Shifting his gaze, Harry bit his lip and rolled a dismissive shoulder. “No reason, just curious.”
“Bullshit,” Draco snapped, daring to step closer. His heart rate increased in time with Harry’s, but while his sudden proximity startled the usually bold boy, he wasn’t frightened of him. Pushing his luck, Draco moved further into his space.
“Tell me, Harry,” Draco said, smirking when Harry shivered with the use of his given name. “Why do you need protection from Muggles?”
The taunts on the tip of his tongue that Draco would normally let fly without remorse withered in the face of Harry’s terror. It no longer felt right to harass the boy—his soulmate—about something that made Gryffindor’s bravest lion quiver with fright.
“If I tell you, do you promise to help instead of mocking me?” Harry whispered.
Guilt hit Draco like a thousand searing knives and judging by Harry’s wide eyes and the hand clutching his shirt as he gawped at him, he felt it, too.
Swallowing his pride, Draco nodded solemnly. “I promise, Harry. For what it’s worth…I am sorry for everything.”
Rubbing his chest with a considering frown, Harry muttered, “Yeah. I can tell.”
Clenching his fists, Harry breathed deeply as he prepared to explain. “My relatives aren’t...kind to me. They hate magic, which means they hate me. I cook and clean for them, but they rarely let me eat more than once a day. If I’m lucky, I can sneak scraps while they’re not looking, but that’s rare.”
Draco hissed angrily as so many of the boy’s peculiarities suddenly made sense and took Harry’s hand in an instinctive need to console him as silent tears trickled across his face.
“My cousin and his friends chase me around the neighbourhood, beating me up because I’m so small. And even though they don’t make me sleep in the cupboard anymore, they put bars on my window and lock me in my room from the outside. I can’t go back. I can’t stand the trapped feeling that sits on my chest and makes it hard to breathe. Please, Draco, don’t make me go back.” Harry gasped through his tears, clinging desperately to his sleeves, unintentionally overflowing their connection with a cloying fear that squeezed all the air from Draco’s lungs.
Claustrophobic, Draco’s brain supplied through the swirl of horrifying information. How had the wizarding world’s hero grown up abused without anyone noticing?
His heart ached for Harry. He’d sorely misjudged him and ruthlessly tormented him when he clearly had a plethora of personal demons to battle. Merlin, he’d been such a prick. Without thinking, Draco pulled him into his arms for a tight hug and ran a hand through his thick hair to calm him.
“Shh, Harry. I’ll speak to my parents. They’ll fix this. I know you don’t care for my father, and I can’t blame you, but he has sway in the Ministry. He can get things sorted with your relatives, alright?” Shoving aside his anger at Harry’s mistreatment, Draco poured care and compassion into him with each heartbeat. But a fresh wave of icy terror flowed through the bond and Draco shuddered.
“Harry, what aren’t you telling me? I can’t help you if I don’t have all the facts.” Shaking his head fervently against his shoulder, Harry continued to sob bitterly.
Deciding it was time for a little honesty of his own, Draco said, “I know it’s hard to believe, but I never wanted to be your enemy. I didn’t even know who you were in Madam Malkins, after all.”
Sighing regretfully, he continued, “This may surprise you, but I don’t exactly have...experience making friends, so I went about it all wrong.”
Harry’s cries quieted as he listened and Draco forced himself to press on, though his tongue felt weighted with lead by his uncharacteristic vulnerability.
“All of my friends are from prominent families,” Draco said. “Our parents decided when we were young to set us up on play dates, but we weren’t actually allowed to play. Instead, we took etiquette and dance lessons with tutors who rapped our knuckles anytime we giggled.
“So, when I was face-to-face with a cute boy without my father around, I fell into old habits because I didn’t know how else to behave. I stupidly thought my name would be enough to convince you I was worth knowing because it worked with my other friends. Every time I’ve goaded you into a fight was a desperate plea for your attention. Even your animosity was better than nothing. I just wanted you to see me,” Draco whispered forlornly.
A hollow ache settled in the pit of his gut and he knew what Harry would say before the words left his mouth.
“Draco, I’m sorry.” Hiccoughing slightly, Harry spoke into his shoulder. “We both botched our first attempt to get to know each other, but I want to start over.”
Hope sang through the bond and Draco flushed at his transparency until he realized it wasn’t one-sided. Tightening his hold on the smaller boy, he whispered, “Me, too.”
Snickering softly, Harry mumbled, “You think I’m cute, huh?”
Groaning as his cheeks flamed, Draco buried his face in Harry’s neck. “Shut up,” he groused. “I’m gay and you’re my soulmate. Obviously, I think you’re cute.”
Hiding his pleased smile, Harry replayed their previous interactions over the years and realized most could be seen as a strange form of flirtation. He was even more startled to discover it wasn’t simply on Draco’s end, either.
Harry swallowed reflexively to wet his parched throat, twisting Draco’s robes in his fists. “How did you know you were gay? Weren’t your parents angry?”
Leaning out of their embrace, Draco frowned. “Why would they be angry?”
The question took Harry by surprise. “Because it’s not normal for boys to like boys? Is it?”
Draco wrinkled his nose distastefully. “Is this another Muggle idea?” Harry shrugged helplessly, and Draco scoffed. “Well, let’s get one thing straight—in a manner of speaking,” he joked, causing them to snort at the terrible pun. “We have magic, which means men and women in same-sex partnerships have multiple options for having biological children, so heirs for my line aren’t a concern. Other than that, what reason would my parents have to be upset over who I prefer to kiss?”
“I don’t know,” Harry muttered self-consciously. “I think Muggles make a big deal about it because of religion, but I’m atheist, so I can’t say for certain.”
Draco’s brows furrowed in confusion. The Old Ways promoted the balance of magic by ritually communing with the gods throughout the year. Love was love, no matter who you bedded. That Muggles would find men sleeping with men or women with women objectionable seemed ludicrous.
Rubbing his arms to rid the chill from his bones, Harry said, “My uncle says all sorts of hateful things about the gay couple down the street, but —” He paled suddenly and swayed on his feet, though Draco kept him from collapsing.
“But?” Draco coaxed gently, his stomach tying itself in knots over the crushing fear flooding the soul bond. Terrified green eyes welled with fresh tears, and Draco’s heart clenched painfully in response.
“Sometimes...sometimes he looks at me and I’m not so stupid to realize it’s not the way a grown man should look at a boy, especially a boy he’s related to. I’m scared of what will happen when I go back.”
White-hot rage exploded out of Draco before he could contain it. Harry watched his untamed magic whip around the room in fascination, his heart tripping with delight and something else he hesitated to name.
Reining in his fury with deep, measured breaths, Draco squeezed Harry’s biceps in reassurance.
“I won’t let him touch you, I swear on my magic,” he stated emphatically. “I’ll send a letter to Father and request he take me home for a weekend so I can explain the situation. Would you allow me to share the memory of this conversation with him so he can’t refute our bond or your need for protection?”
Harry nibbled his lip nervously, but Draco tilted his chin. “It keeps you from having to repeat everything to him, Harry. I swear I’m not trying to trick you. I’m genuinely trying to make things easier for you.”
Leaning into the gentle touch, Harry’s eyelids fluttered as affection washed over him. He could feel the protectiveness in Draco’s actions and he knew, despite rumours to the contrary, that the Slytherin’s heart wasn’t cold.
Nodding slowly, he said, “Yes, you can show him. Thank you, Draco.”
“Of course,” he whispered hoarsely. Draco only noticed how close they were when he could make out the gold flecks scattered in Harry’s irises and the faint freckles along the bridge of his nose.
Harry likewise studied his former rival (who suddenly knew more about him than his best friends), drinking in the long lashes framing quicksilver and soft, plush lips. He was rather suddenly aware of how attractive Draco was beneath his sneer and his stomach flipped with the realization.
Gathering his courage, Harry said, “You never told me how you knew you were gay.”
Blinking out of his daze, Draco shrugged. “I developed a crush on a boy, of course. Then I spent an absurd amount of time agonizing over it in my room, and wondering why every time I thought of replacing him with Pansy, I felt nauseous. When I finally broached the topic with my mother over tea, she told me she and father already knew and didn’t care.”
“It’s not a problem, is it?” Draco asked, lowering his gaze anxiously, causing Harry to tilt his head in confusion. “I mean, a lot of soulmates are strictly platonic. I’m not going to force a bond you don’t want.”
“No! Gods, no,” Harry exclaimed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just wondered,” he cleared his throat, “how someone discovers they aren’t one hundred percent straight?” he asked timidly.
Stamping out the urge to crow with excitement, Draco’s cunning reared its head, and he smiled. “Well, we have to seal the bond between us,” he said.
“How do we do that?” Harry asked.
Keeping his voice neutral, Draco stated simply. “With a kiss, of course. Our magic will see it as our acceptance of the bond and seal it, granting you protection from my family for life. Plus, it has the added benefit of helping you discover if you aren’t ‘one hundred percent straight,’ as you put it.”
Draco wasn’t about to tell him there were binding statements that would suffice, not when an opportunity for a physical sealing with his long-time crush was literally staring him in the face.
Biting his lip with a blush, Harry murmured, “But your dad —”
“He won’t see this,” Draco interrupted. “I can control how much of the memory I show him and I promise, this will stay between us. It’s a very personal, private thing between soulmates and I won’t share it with anyone. You have my word,” he vowed.
He meant what he said, though he purposefully avoided mentioning the jealous streak that wouldn’t allow him to share, in any sense. He had years to convince him they should be together if Harry wasn’t initially keen on the idea. While Draco may not have much patience, he was a Slytherin, which meant he had cunning and ambition in spades. If his “seal it with a kiss” idea didn’t pan out, he’d simply devise a long-term plan to make Harry his. Some things were worth waiting for.
“Okay,” Harry agreed, eyes shining with something indefinable.
Tilting his head up to compensate for the inch or two Draco had on him, Harry forgot to breathe for a moment as grey eyes turned dark when he dipped to meet him. His eyelids fell shut when sinewy arms wrapped around his back, and blood pounded in his ears when a puff of hot air fanned across his lips a split second before they touched.
The reaction was instant.
Harry gasped when the dragon on his chest beat its wings and roared, and Draco responded in kind as the phoenix trilled through the pulse of their bond. Taking the opportunity afforded him, Harry slipped his tongue into Draco’s open mouth. His knees almost buckled when they slid and curled together as though meant to, which he supposed as soulmates, they were.
The explosion of their magic throughout the room didn’t shock either of them, but they moaned in unison when their individual signatures tangled and combined into something new. Something uniquely them. They could feel the similarities and the differences of their auras melding into something more powerful with every shared breath.
Walking Harry backward as he peppered reverent kisses along his neck, Draco hoisted him easily and perched him on a desk, slotting himself between his legs and resealing their lips.
“Do you want me to stop?” Draco asked between desperate kisses.
“No. I’m definitely not straight and right now I can’t think of anyone but you,” Harry panted, reeling him in by the nape of his neck.
“Good,” Draco growled, relishing the way Harry arched into him, seeking, craving everything he gave him. Gripping him lightly by the hips, Draco shuffled him closer, swallowing his soulmate’s needy whimpers with pride. When Harry unconsciously rocked against his thigh, revealing his excitement however, Draco leapt back as though burned.
Harry gaped at the suddenness of his departure. He watched Draco suck in deep breaths through red, glossy lips, his blond hair hopelessly tousled, and eyes wild with panic.
“Draco?” he hesitantly asked.
Shaking his head violently, Draco doubled over and focused on choking down the bile scorching his esophagus. Scrambling off the desk with a gasp, Harry dashed to his side, hands hovering to offer help in case he became sick.
“What happened? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?”
Huffing a weak laugh, Draco cautiously straightened as the wave of nausea passed. “No. I just…” Closing his mouth with a snap, he spun on his heel and presented his back to regain his composure. “I won’t be like him,” Draco gritted out.
“Like who?” Harry asked softly.
The click of his throat as Draco swallowed echoed in the silence before he hissed through clenched teeth. “Like your uncle. I won’t...I won’t force myself on you. I have no expectations of this becoming romantic. I’m sorry I got carried away. I was out of line.”
Harry’s heart slammed against his ribs as Draco’s words settled over him like a comforting blanket, shattering any lingering doubt of their suitability. Touched by his chivalry, Harry pressed his chest against his back and wrapped his arms around him, smiling when Draco melted into the embrace and relief hummed through their connection.
Yes, Harry could easily love Draco. The real Draco. The one who kept his true self hidden to prevent his enemies from exploiting his vulnerabilities. The one with a fiercely protective streak and a wealth of compassion and gentleness secreted beneath his aristocratic veneer.
To be honest, Harry liked the idea of being the only person to see the private side of Draco. It made their bond more special to know they bared their souls for no one but each other.
“You’re nothing like him, Draco,” Harry soothed. “Your concern about coming across that way proves it. You’re a better person than you give yourself credit for and you absolutely did not force me into anything. You asked, I agreed, and you even checked in again to be sure I was still okay.” Pressing a kiss to his shoulder, he asked, “So, why’d you bolt?”
Shame filled Draco and trickled through the bond, prompting Harry to squeeze tighter. Merlin, Draco didn’t deserve this boy. Harry was far too good for him and he was certain when he came clean, he’d lose any chance at a romantic soul bond, but after all they shared he couldn’t lie to Harry now.
“Because I tricked you,” he whispered. “We didn’t have to kiss. There are traditional words of binding we could have used, but physical sealings are supposedly stronger and...why are you laughing?” Draco demanded, whirling around to glare at him.
“You think I don’t know that?” Harry said, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Have you forgotten who my best friend is? She read everything about soulmates in the library during our first year and insisted we memorize them. We may not have grown up in the wizarding world, but Hermione is nothing if not prepared.”
Mouth agape and cheeks flaming, Draco shuffled his feet, expecting a reprimand, but Harry linked their hands with a shy smile. “If I didn’t want to kiss you, Draco, I would’ve said no.”
“Why didn’t you?” he asked, gaze dipping to the floor as nerves wreaked havoc on his stomach.
“Because I could see how much you wanted to kiss me.” Draco’s head jerked up in astonishment and his blush trailed to his exposed chest. Rolling a shoulder in a casual shrug, Harry tore his gaze away from the intoxicating sight of Draco’s torso, and said, “And I wanted to know.”
Closing the gap between them, Draco traced Harry’s bottom lip with his thumb. “What did you want to know, Harry?”
Harry glanced at him under dark lashes and steeled his courage. “If we could be more than enemies.”
“And? Can we?” Draco wondered, breathless with hope, yet taut with uncertainty.
Winding his arms around his neck, Harry smiled. “If you think I’ll be able to kiss anyone else after that, you’re not as clever as I thought, Draco Malfoy. I love your damn mouth, whether you’re throwing around creative insults to catch my attention or snogging the life out of me.”
“Thank Merlin,” Draco sighed before their lips met in a tender kiss. It said far more than either of them were willing to admit. Later, perhaps, but not yet. They parted after a few moments but didn’t go far, resting their foreheads together as their combined magic thrummed with contentment.
“Draco,” Harry whispered into the corner of his mouth, “who was the boy you had a crush on? The one who helped you figure it out?”
A wide grin lit up his face as he snorted in amusement. “Oh, just some scrawny git who stumbled into the robe shop, clueless and lost, but when he looked at me he flipped my world upside down in an instant.”
“Me?” Harry squeaked.
“Who else?” Draco huffed wryly as he thumbed gentle circles along his spine. “It’s always been you, Harry.”
He was right, of course. Magic tied them together in the womb, recognizing they were two halves of a whole. When he thought about it, Harry realized he’d only ever had eyes for the blond boy. No matter how he lied to himself to justify his reasons for watching Draco so intently, the truth could no longer be denied. He flushed when he realized he’d been crushing on his soulmate for quite a while, but because of the biases he grew up with, he hadn’t connected the dots.
And though he had a massive amount of explaining to do among his friends and future discussions with Draco about his feelings on blood status, Harry had no regrets. With Draco by his side and their new magic buzzing in their veins, he knew they could handle whatever life threw at them.
Harry didn’t repeat the sentiment aloud, though he knew by Draco’s warm gaze he didn’t need to. They knew where they stood with each other now.
With a surge of affection for his soulmate, Harry dragged Draco in for a heated kiss. One that promised a new beginning between two souls forever entwined.