Author's Note 29-10-15: My friend Dori asked me to write a Drarry based on this prompt from Tumblr:

"If a clock could count down to the moment you meet your soul mate, would you want to know?"

Seeing as I'd just reached 1,300 followers, I thought it would be a great way to celebrate!

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Timer

"It's alright for you guys," Harry grumbled, picking at his food as they sat at one of the tables in the great hall. The house banners still hung overhead, but one of the nicer aspects of returning to school for their so-called 'Eighth Year' was that people seemed to care less about the boundaries that had once separated them. So it was therefore not unusual that they were having their dinner at what used to be considered the Ravenclaw table, mingled in with friends from not only Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, but Hufflepuff and even the odd Slytherin too.

Harry's mind however was not on the school houses as he poked at his wrist, the numbers dormant now for over seven years. His best friends sat opposite him sympathetically, but holding hands nonetheless. "Mate," said Ron. "I know it's tough, but, well…"

"What kind of idiot doesn't pay attention to when their timer runs out?" Harry supplied, and Ron looked sheepish.

"I think what Ron's trying to say," Hermione pitched in determinedly. "Is that are you sure you don't remember even a little bit more detail of when you noticed?"

It was alright for them, Harry thought to himself, unable to be bitter at his friends' luck, but at the same time they didn't understand. They knew from the moment Hermione had run into Ron and Harry's compartment on their first trip to Hogwarts that they were destined to be together. Even if it had taken them a few years to actually accept the idea.

By that point though, Harry's clock had already run down. "I'd just found out I was a wizard," he said with a sigh, explaining to them for the hundredth time how it had possibly slipped his mind. "Hagrid took me to Diagon Alley, and it was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen." He poked his mash potato around his plate before giving up and dropping his fork. "All my clothes were so big," he carried on, rolling up his sleeve to look at his timer properly. "I was used to it being covered. By the time I thought to check in the evening it was already at zero, and I'd spent the day with about a thousand people. It could have been any of them."

Hermione drummed her fingers on the table, and he knew what she was going to say before she even said it. "But you must have interacted with someone – someone who was paying attention and realised it was you they were destined to meet."

"Then why didn't they say anything?" Harry countered, and Ron shrugged, looking around the bustling hall full of chattering students.

"Eleven is pretty young to meet your soul mate," he said sympathetically.

Harry leaned his head on his hand. "It worked out alright for you guys," he said, trying not to by grumpy.

They shared a knowing look. "Yeah," said Ron carefully. "After several years of ignoring it and fighting like cat and dog."

That managed to get a smile out of Harry at least. "Okay," he agreed. "But you two were always insufferable like that."

"No argument here," came a new cheerful voice, and Harry looked round to see Draco Malfoy swing his long leg over to sit next to him, pulling a plate over to get himself some dinner.

"Ha ha Malfoy," said Ron with relative good humour. Perhaps the most surprising turn of events since they had all returned to school was Draco's complete and unequivocal about turn in his attitude towards, well, almost everything. He had sought Harry out on the very first night to apologise for his appalling behaviour over the years, and once Harry had accepted (in a state of shock) he'd done the same with Ron and Hermione. Sometimes Harry still wondered if he was genuine, but the months had gone by and without the constant animosity to stop them, he and Draco had, against all odds, become actual friends.

Harry still felt something strange when Draco was around though, and he put it down to the fact that they had been enemies for so long; there was still a small instinctual part of him that was hyper-aware of his every move. Sometimes it felt like there was electricity between them, there was no other way to describe it.

"So what are we talking about?" Draco asked unabashedly. He was always good at just cutting to the point.

"Harry's soul mate," Ron said with glum resignation. "He managed to miss meeting her."

Only because he was always so aware of the way Draco moved did Harry catch the slight way his body flinched. "Really?" he said, eyes on Ron.

Hermione shook her head. "It could have been anyone he met on his first trip to Diagon Alley."

Draco nodded, eyes on the gravy he was pouring over his sausage and mash, but he'd become prickly, and Harry wasn't sure why.

Ron was helping himself to seconds. "It is strange the other person didn't say anything though," he mused.

"Maybe they did," said Draco, laying his unused fork down. "And you didn't notice?" He only glanced at Harry as he spoke, a small smile at the corner of his mouth. He looked almost vulnerable, and Harry felt a sudden urge to squeeze his shoulder or something. He resisted though; Draco may have changed but that kind of touch would be crossing a line.

"Ron's right though, eleven is young," Hermione said. "They might have been older and just said hello, not wanting to scare you off? Can you remember who you met that day?"

Harry laughed. "Blimey Hermione, I spoke to pretty much every shop assistant on the street and Hagrid introduced me to dozens and dozens of people, I hardly registered who they were at the time." He sighed and scrubbed his face.

Maybe he would never meet the person the universe had decided should be his soul mate. He'd tried taking matters into his own hands before with Cho and Ginny, but with their clocks still ticking both relationships had been nothing more than a dalliance.

"How long have you got on you clock Malfoy?" Ron asked when the silence stared getting uncomfortable, but if anything Draco's face paled even further.

"I," he said, eyes flicking between Ron and Hermione in front of him, and then finally Harry beside him. "It uh…already ran out."

Harry's eyebrows shot up in shock, and something cold and indefinable sparked through him. "Really," he said, his voice a little tight for some reason. He coughed to try and shake it. "When, who's your soul mate?"

Draco almost seemed to have taken ill, and he pushed his untouched food away. He took a breath, and lifted his wide, silver eyes to meet Harry's just for a moment. "I have to go," he whispered, and was on his feet before anyone could stop him.

Harry blinked, watching him go in utter bewilderment, before turning back to Ron and Hermione. Ron wore an expression that was probably a match for Harry's, but Hermione had gone slack with shock. "What?" Harry asked.

Her mouth opened and closed as she glanced between Draco's retreating form, and Harry.

"What Hermione?" Harry demanded again with a little more insistence. "Use your words," he added with a laugh, but she was perfectly serious. That was until she seemed to snap back to reality, and a delighted twinkle appeared in her eye.

"Harry," she said grinning. "Who else did you meet that day?"

Harry gave an exasperated grunt. "I told you," he began, but she shook her head, cutting him off.

"Think!" she urged, practically bouncing in her seat. "You meet another student, you spoke to them, you told us!"

Ron was frowning at her like she'd lost the plot, but suddenly, like a lightning bolt, Harry was struck down with what she was trying to tell him. "Madam Malkin's," he said numbly. Maybe they did, Draco had said. And you didn't notice? "Bloody hell."

"What," said Ron his head jerking between the two of them. "What!"

Hermione though was shooing Harry away from the table. "What are you waiting for?" she demanded. "Go get him!"

Harry jumped to his feet and took off at a run, not caring how many people were watching, he just knew he had to get to Draco. He didn't want to waste a single minute more.

The entrance hallway was empty, but Harry's instinct told him to carry on running out into the fresh spring evening, and sure enough, there heading towards the lake was a familiar lithe figure, hands in his pockets, head downcast as he scuffed his feet along the grass.

Draco. Harry's heart contracted. All those fights they'd had, the way they'd always been drawn to each other. And now, their friendship, the friction Harry always felt when they were near each other.

He'd been such a fool.

He set off at a run again, sprinting across the grounds with a lightness in his heart he'd never felt before. Draco didn't even see him coming until he seized him around his shoulders, spinning him around to face him. "You knew," he breathed with a mixture of happiness and disbelief. "This whole time – you knew it was me."

Draco stood still, his eyes wide and shining. "And you had no idea?" he said, his voice small.

Harry calmed, searching Draco's face, seeing him with fresh eyes. "You thought I did, you thought I knew when my timer had stopped?"

Draco looked down at their shoes, sagging a little under Harry's grip. "I thought you didn't want me," he said, his voice cracking.

Harry closed his eyes, the past seven years flitting past his mind's eye. "That's why you were so mean to me," he said with certainty. "All those times you provoked me, you thought I'd rejected you."

Draco shook his head, a single tear tracing down his cheek and his eyes still on the grass. "I didn't know what else to do."

Without squandering any more time, Harry pulled him into a hug, wanting to make up for so much lost time between them. Warm relief swept over him as Draco reciprocated immediately, squeezing Harry as close as he could against his body. "I'm so sorry," Harry said into his neck, his body tingling as the scent that was so distinctly Draco engulfed him, their skin almost burning where they now finally touched. One of Draco's hands was tangled in Harry's hair, the other stroked possessively up and down his back. Harry just clung on tight, his fingers digging into Draco's clothes.

"No," said Draco. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I should have just asked you, instead I just assumed you didn't want me, and all I could think to deal with that was to be cruel. I don't know, can you ever-"

"I forgive you," Harry hastily interrupted. He pulled back to look at Draco's eyes, mere inches from his own. It was the most natural thing in the world to bring his hand around and cup his face, to rub his thumb along that sharp cheekbone. "I don't what to think about what we could have done, how things could have been. That's gone, it's over. But now – now we have our whole lives together."

Finally, and much to Harry's pleasure, Draco face split into a wide and unabashed grin that within seconds became a laugh despite the tears tumbling from his eyes. He took Harry's face between both his hands, his manner urgent but his touch soft. "I've wanted this for so long," he said, the huge burden that had been lifted from him clear even in the dim twilight.

Harry wanted to tell him he was sorry again, that things would be okay now, that they could both stop wondering, stop searching. But words didn't seem enough. So Harry leaned forward instead, his heart hammering in his chest, and gently pressed his lips against Draco's.

This. This was what he had been missing before. He knew it hadn't been right with Ginny or with Cho, but this was everything he never knew he'd been wanting, yearning for.

Impossibly, their bodies came even closer, entwining in a tight knot of limbs as the kiss deepened. Happiness and contentment like Harry had never known poured through his veins until he felt like he was swimming in it.

He broke the kiss off, wanting to assure himself that this was really happening, staring at Draco with unworthy disbelief. "I found you," he whispered.

Draco nodded. "And now I'm never letting you go."

End