Author: kayladie

Title: Like Silken Thread It Holds Us Fast

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Summary: Harry would do just about anything to get out of being Auror partners with Malfoy, but now that he's accidentally bonded himself to the git, it looks as though Harry's stuck with him for good.

Warnings: None

A/N: Written for the 2013 Smoochfest over at LiveJournal. The title comes from the following poem, titled A Special World:

A special world for you and me
A special bond one cannot see
It wraps us up in its cocoon
And holds us fiercely in its womb.

Its fingers spread like fine spun gold
Gently nestling us to the fold
Like silken thread it holds us fast
Bonds like this are meant to last.

And though at times a thread may break
A new one forms in its wake
To bind us closer and keep us strong
In a special world, where we belong.

Sheelagh Lennon

Harry Potter was fuming as the portkey deposited him none too gently into the chamber set aside for Aurors returning from the field. He immediately started towards the door, as he wanted to see Dawlish quickly, before his partner could show up and begin to spin his tales, as that bastard always did. It was a shame that such a gorgeous bloke had to be such an arse.

He passed several people in the hallway on the way to the Head Auror's office, most of whom gave him startled glances before scuttling out of his way. Part of that could have been because Harry Potter storming down a hallway was rather intimidating, but it could also have been due to the odor that accompanied the slimy goo that was currently drenching his entire body.

"Potter! Stop right there!"

Harry ignored the voice and sped up, knowing now that his time was limited to get his side of the story out first. Unfortunately, Malfoy had longer legs and was able to catch up to him in only a few moments. Harry felt a hand grab his shoulder and attempt to turn him around. Harry paused, simply because he couldn't resist the chance to yell at Malfoy again for his idiocy. He couldn't help but grin when he saw Malfoy grimace as he shook goo off his hand.

"This is not my fault and you are not going to go in there and lie to Dawlish and tell him that it is!"

His grin quickly vanished and Harry stared at Malfoy in disbelief. "It most certainly is your fault! And I'm going to use this opportunity to get assigned a new partner. One that will, hopefully, not be trying to get me killed every other second!"

"It is not my fault that you've lost every bit of skill you ever had as a seeker. You should have been able to catch that urn!"

"Not when you give me half a second's notice! And that thing was quite a bit bigger than a snitch, if you didn't notice. Not to mention that it was probably at least a thousand years old. What the hell were you thinking to be tossing around ancient artifacts like they're toys?"

"Oh, I don't know…" Malfoy said, his sarcasm thick enough to cut with a knife. "Just trying to save our lives from Blakely and his band of tomb robbers who were about to curse both of us, while still protecting the artifact? I had the clear shot, but I needed both hands free."

"You didn't do a very good job at either, because the bad guys got away, and as for the artifact, well…" Harry spread his arms wide, enjoying the look of disgust on Malfoy's face at the slime dripping from him. "Good luck to the Department of Mysteries trying to figure anything out from this!"

"Potter! Malfoy! My office, now!"

Head Auror John Dawlish's voice cut through their arguing effectively. Harry and Malfoy settled for one final glare at each other before they turned and headed towards the man's office. However, when they got within sniffing distance, Dawlish wrinkled his nose and held a hand up to stop Harry from coming any closer.

"Whoa, Potter. You need to go get that mess cleaned up before you do anything else."

"Sir, this is what's left of the artifact we went in after. Malfoy decided to play toss with it," Harry said, giving Malfoy a nasty smile.

Malfoy glared all the harder, causing Harry's smile to just get bigger.

"I see. Well, in that case, you'd better go down to the DOM and see if they can salvage anything. Malfoy can fill me in on the details of the case. And what obviously went completely wrong."

Harry's expression fell, as Malfoy's glare turned into a nasty grin of his own.

"But, Sir-"

"That's an order, Potter," Dawlish said, giving him the 'I've had enough of your foolishness' look.

"Sir, this is the remains of the urn itself. I gathered it up after Potter fled the scene," Malfoy said, holding up a cloth bag that clinked with the sounds of broken pottery.

"I did not flee the scene," Harry said through gritted teeth. He desperately wanted to smack that smug look off Malfoy's face, but he knew that wouldn't do much for his standing in Dawlish's eyes. He briefly considered doing it anyway, purely for the satisfaction it would bring.

"Of course not, Potter, I'm sure," Dawlish said, his nose still wrinkling from Harry's stench. He waved a hand vaguely in Harry's direction. "Now take that and off to the DOM with you."

Malfoy pushed the cloth bag up against Harry's chest with a thump and he automatically raised his hands to hold on to it. His jaw dropped in astonishment as Dawlish turned and ushered Malfoy into his office. That prick turned his head and flashed a quick smirk at Harry before the door closed behind the both of them. Utterly humiliated, Harry studiously avoided the pitying glances as he turned to make his way towards the lifts.

He would make certain that Malfoy paid for this. But probably not today. Harry decided that he might skive off for the rest of the day. His stomach wasn't feeling very well anyway. Hopefully, he hadn't accidentally swallowed any of this goo.

Harry replayed the entire scenario in his head as he fruitlessly attempted to get some sleep later that night. The Unspeakable in the DOM hadn't been much help for his ego, as she'd severely chastised Harry for 'tampering with a protected magical artifact'. And then, she'd refused to answer any of his questions about whether it was dangerous that this gunk was all over him, and told him to go to St. Mungo's if he was concerned.

To top it all off, she'd confiscated all his clothes and he'd had to sneak out of the Ministry wearing nothing but a spare robe she'd dug up from somewhere. The thing was musty, dirty, and it stank almost as much as the goo had.

So, yes, Harry had felt completely justified in taking the rest of the day off. He'd sent a memo to Dawlish before he left stating that he'd be back in the morning. Hopefully, he would still be employed at that time. Who knew what kind of story Malfoy had spun. Harry might be out of a job anyway, purely because of that git.

Harry grumbled as he tossed and turned in his bed, thoughts of Malfoy winding him up, as they always did. He blamed Malfoy for everything, including the fact that he could just not seem to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. It certainly didn't help that Harry might have the teeniest, tiniest bit of a crush on the berk. Despite their animosity at work, Harry couldn't help but be just a little attracted to him, although he would die before he admitted it aloud to anyone.

Finally, around five am, Harry gave up and got out of bed. He felt utterly exhausted, having managed to snatch only the barest amount of sleep here and there throughout the night. He figured he may as well get up and go in to the office early. Maybe he could catch Dawlish before anyone else came in and try to undo some of the damage Malfoy had done.

Unfortunately, Harry arrived at the Auror's office so early, that even Dawlish wasn't there yet. Still muttering about Malfoy under his breath, Harry shuffled over to his desk and tried to catch up on some paperwork that he'd fallen behind on. He wished he could blame that on Malfoy as well, but the truth was, Harry simply hated paperwork and he tended to let it slide until the last possible minute.

Over the next hour, he muddled through weeks-old reports, getting them up to date as best he could. Harry grimaced as he shifted in his chair, as unable to get comfortable there as he had been in his bed. His belly just felt strange, almost to the edge of pain, but not quite. He probably should have eaten breakfast this morning, but he just hadn't felt hungry when he left Grimmauld Place.

People began to trickle into the office and Harry straightened, forcing himself to ignore the discomfort, as he was unwilling to show weakness to his fellow Aurors. Especially to…

"In bright and early this morning, I see, Potter! Feel all better after your dreadful illness yesterday? Although, you still look like shit," Malfoy said mockingly as he settled into his desk directly in front of Harry's.

"I'm perfectly fine, Malfoy," Harry said stubbornly. Oddly, he did feel a tiny bit better all of a sudden. It was probably his sense of injustice sparking up at Malfoy's mere presence.

"Potter!"

Harry looked up as Dawlish called his name from the door of his office. "Sir?"

"Good work yesterday. Malfoy filled me in on how you tried to save the artifact. Too bad about Blakely hitting it with that spell. Hopefully, the Unspeakables will still be able to do something with it."

Harry didn't know how he managed to keep his mouth from gaping open stupidly, but it did take him a moment to find his words. "Uh, thank you, sir. I hope they'll be able to get something out of it as well."

Dawlish gave him a nod and then stepped inside his office, closing the door behind him. Harry sat there for a long moment and then turned a suspicious gaze on his partner. Malfoy was pointedly not looking back at him, pretending to be reading a memo.

"Care to explain what that was all about?" he asked. Harry was very interested in the answer, as covering for him was the last thing he'd expected Malfoy to do. It was with a little shame that he realized he certainly hadn't been planning to do the same, had in fact been intending to throw Malfoy under the bus in the hopes of getting a new partner.

Malfoy ignored him for a few minutes, but Harry waited patiently, knowing the git wouldn't be able to resist explaining himself for long.

Eventually, Malfoy sighed and looked Harry in the eye. "Look, I know you want a new partner, and I sympathize, I really do," Malfoy said, his sardonic tone making it clear it was really the complete opposite.

"I imagine you pictured working with Weasley, catching bad guys with your best mate, but I for one, am not sorry that he decided to work with the joke shop instead of being an Auror. Believe it or not, I've always wanted to be an Auror, and I know that the only way I can do that is with you as my partner," he continued, his voice dropping to a low whisper that Harry had to lean forward to hear. "We both know that no one else will want to work with me."

With that, he looked away from Harry and pretended to be straightening the files on his desk. Harry sat in stunned silence, before he said, "Wait, since when have you always wanted to be an Auror? Back in school, I always thought you, ah, shared your father's beliefs. That certainly doesn't fit with wanting to be an Auror."

The heat of Malfoy's glare was almost enough to set Harry's face on fire. He held up his hands as if to ward off a forthcoming curse. "Obviously, I know you feel differently now, but as I said, you've 'always' wanted to be an Auror?" he asked doubtfully.

Malfoy sniffed haughtily. "My mother was quite indulgent with me as a child," he said, ignoring Harry's snort. "And one of the things she gave me for my seventh birthday was a series of paperback novels. The Adventures of Simon Sinclair, Auror Extraordinaire."

Harry couldn't stop the snicker that escaped him.

Malfoy obviously pretended not to hear, as he continued. "Between that and the storybooks about the Boy Who Lived that I read and re-read voraciously, I'm sure that Lucius was close to having a heart attack on a few occasions."

There was no way Harry could contain his laughter at that point. He fell face forward on the desk, and laughed so hard that his sides started to hurt. It was quite a few minutes before Harry was able to control the laughter, and get it down to just a few giggles. Of course, even those ended abruptly when he realized he'd gained the notice of the entire room.

"What!?" he snapped. "Malfoy told a joke. None of you remember what that is?"

Everyone in the room suddenly found something else to take up their attention, and Harry gradually let his glare fade as he turned to look back at Malfoy.

"My hero," Malfoy said wryly.

"So I'm part of the reason that you wanted to become an Auror."

"I very much idolized the Boy Who Lived while I was growing up, yes. It lost a bit of luster when we actually met, mind you, as I quickly realized you were a gigantic prat."

"Hey! You were far more a prat than I ever was!"

"That's a matter of opinion, but neither here nor there at this point. The point is, I've managed to achieve my dream, but much to my chagrin, I am dependent upon you to keep it going."

Harry leaned back in his chair and gave Malfoy an assessing glance. He and the git had been partners now for almost a year, and Harry could admit that he'd been a little rough on Malfoy. He'd constantly asked Dawlish for a new partner, but had been denied, because frankly, he and Malfoy had one of the best solve rates in the entire Auror squad. As much as the two of them squabbled and fought, they actually worked together fairly well. Harry had just not liked the fact that it was Malfoy he was working with.

Now, with this insight into Malfoy's true character, Harry was rethinking things. Malfoy had covered for him! That had been the last thing he would have expected from the normally selfish Slytherin. And damn it, if this didn't make Harry's teeny crush just a little bit bigger. Malfoy was fidgeting nervously under Harry's steady gaze, shuffling those files over and over again, while not looking at Harry directly.

"All right," he said carefully. "How about we declare a truce, then? I'll stop asking Dawlish for a new partner, and you stop being an enormous pain in my arse."

Malfoy's eyes flashed with something just then, and Harry thought he was going to say something, but then he simply nodded, and stuck his hand across the desk towards Harry. Harry didn't hesitate this time and took Malfoy's hand, giving it a couple of firm shakes.

"Should be an easy day today. Nothing but catching up on boring paperwork, eh?" Harry said, as he bent his head back to the forms on his desk.

"Well, it won't be now that you said that, you tosser. Have you never heard of Karma? By the way, you should probably take another day off, because you really do look like shit."

Harry flipped him two fingers without even looking up and said, "Well, that truce didn't last long, did it? I'll be asking Dawlish for a new partner at lunch."

"Good luck with that, Potter. You're quite stuck with me, I'm afraid," Malfoy said.

Harry looked up and the two of them smirked at each other. Harry thought it was nice that they could actually tease one another. It gave him a pang of nostalgia, because he imagined that would have been how he and Ron would have worked together, but maybe being Malfoy's partner didn't have to be the nightmare that he'd always envisioned it to be.

The next couple of weeks were very interesting, in Harry's opinion. Just because they'd declared a truce, didn't mean the two of them didn't still have furious rows. They fought over paperwork, over how to question suspects, over when to hold back and when to charge in on the cases they worked. It seemed they worked together more smoothly, though, and there wasn't the lingering resentment that had once plagued the relationship.

Relationship…now that was an intriguing word. Harry had suddenly found himself noticing even more things about Malfoy personally than he usually did. The way his hair fell over his forehead, the strength of Malfoy's hands as he manipulated his wand, the way his eyes seemed to match the grey of London's afternoon skies, even the way his trousers hugged his arse.

Harry had known for a while that he was attracted to both women and men, and while he'd dated within both genders, he'd never had what one would call a 'relationship' with another man. It was very unsettling to think one could consider his partnership with Malfoy more of a serious relationship than any one he'd ever had romantically.

It was also unsettling that Harry couldn't seem to shake whatever this bug was that he'd picked up. He felt achy and uncomfortable all the time, and a few times, actual throbs of pain pulsed through his belly. Of course, Harry was used to dealing with pain, and it still wasn't quite as bad as scar pain around Voldemort had been. So he ignored it, as best he could. It did seem to be worse at night, as he usually started feeling better once he got to work in the morning.

Perhaps it was some ancient, forgotten curse on Grimmauld Place? Harry resolved to talk to Bill Weasley when he got the chance, to see if the Cursebreaker could find anything wrong with Harry's house.

"So, Potter, just to let you know, I won't be in tomorrow. Don't worry, I've already cleared it with Dawlish."

"Anything wrong?" Harry asked, concerned despite himself.

"No, it's my mother's birthday, and I'm treating her to a day at her favorite spa in France."

"What are you going to do while your mum is at the spa?"

Draco threw him an exasperated glare. "Potter, you plebian, we will be doing the spa day together. How else do you think I keep my skin in such magnificent condition?"

Harry's nose wrinkled in confusion. He wasn't even sure what a 'spa day' entailed, but he knew it didn't sound like any fun to him.

"Well, Malfoy, I suppose I can do without you for one day. Give your mum my best wishes, would you?"

"I certainly will. Do try not to get yourself hurt while I'm gone, Potter."

"Ha ha, you are hilarious," Harry said flatly.

He knew that Malfoy had only been joking about Harry not getting hurt in his absence, but the day without his partner was truly awful. Harry's bug really flared up and he felt absolutely dreadful. There were a few times the pain in his belly was almost enough to send him to his knees, but Harry managed to persevere.

That night was a different story. It was the worst pain he'd had since this ailment – whatever it was – had begun. Harry honestly thought he was going to die; in fact he wondered if his appendix had burst. But the pain seemed to move, which he knew probably wasn't the case for appendicitis, from his belly to his heart, and then back again.

He considered Floo-calling Hermione, but he knew that she and Ron got very little sleep as it was thanks to three-week-old Rose, so he didn't want to take the chance of waking her if she was asleep. Then, he considered whether or not he should take himself to St. Mungo's, but he was repulsed by the very idea. The attention he always encountered at the hospital always made his skin crawl.

Somehow, he managed to make it through the night. He dragged himself out of bed and staggered into the bathroom to take a shower. The hot water helped minutely, but Harry still honestly felt like he was dying. Perhaps he'd stop by the Apothecary on Diagon Alley before he went in to work and see if he could find a potion that would help whatever this was.

By some unknown miracle, Harry made it to Slug & Jiggers Apothecary and shuffled slowly up to the counter. By this time, the pain shooting through his entire body was agonizing, and Harry wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to remain standing.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Potter?"

"I need something for pain," Harry grunted.

The man behind the counter looked at Harry shrewdly and paused for a long moment before he answered. "What sort of pain? Have you been injured?"

"No, no, it's just…I just hurt everywhere. Some bug I picked up, I think, but it doesn't want to go away. Haven't you got something that will fix that?" He knew he was sounding a little desperate, but Harry couldn't bring himself to care.

"Has someone cursed you?" the man asked, the concern on his face growing.

Harry blinked. He'd never considered that, but being who he was, Harry realized he should have. "Umm…"

"Would you like me to cast a few basic revealing spells? Generally, you can't do them on yourself, but someone else usually can."

Harry certainly wasn't wild about the idea of some stranger casting unknown spells at him. "Maybe I should just go to St. Mungo's."

"Your hesitance is understandable, Mr. Potter. Perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Elias Bobbin. My granddaughter Melinda, was a Ravenclaw at Hogwarts in your year."

"I don't remember her, sorry," Harry said. The pain was nearly becoming overwhelming now; Harry thought it might be on scale with the Cruciatus that Voldemort had hit him with back in his fourth year in the graveyard. He wished Mr. Bobbin would get to the point.

"I didn't think you did, she was very shy as a child. Not one to make many friends outside her house. But she was there at school during the Final Battle. My son married a Muggle-born, so I'm aware that she would have been one of the Death Eater's targets if they'd won. You may not have been aware of it, but you saved my granddaughter's life, along with the lives of most of your schoolmates. For that, I will always be indebted to you, as is most of the Wizarding World."

Harry sighed. It seemed the hero-worship would never go away completely. "That's a lovely sentiment, Mr. Bobbin, but what does it have to do with right now?"

"I just meant to show you that I would not attempt to harm you through subterfuge, Mr. Potter. If you'd like to know a little about what's going on with you, I'm not completely unskilled in a few diagnostic spells. Meanwhile," he said, as he turned and picked a potion vial off the shelf behind him. "Here's a numbing potion. It probably won't completely eliminate the pain, but it should help for a short while."

Harry took the small bottle and quickly gulped down the contents. He shuddered at the awful taste, but the pain went from 'stabbing in the gut' to 'annoying toothache'. Harry leaned on the counter heavily, as the sudden relief from pain almost brought him to his knees.

"Oh, that's so much better," Harry said, and if it sounded a little like a whimper, he was sure he could be forgiven for that.

"Do you want me to do the spells, Mr. Potter?"

"You may as well. Certainly can't be any worse than what I was feeling before."

Mr. Bobbin nodded and drew his wand. Pointing it at Harry, he waved it in a complicated pattern that Harry was too exhausted to try and follow. Gold sparks flittered out of his wand and danced around Harry, then faded away.

"Hmm," Mr. Bobbin said, and then started a new spell. This went on for several minutes, Mr. Bobbin making noncommittal noises each time. Finally though, he exclaimed, "Oh, that's very interesting!"

"What?" Harry asked, surprised. He hadn't expected the man to actually find anything.

"It appears that you're suffering from an incomplete bonding spell of some sort."

"An incomplete…what!?" Harry said, stunned.

"I can't tell for certain what sort of bonding spell, you'd need a specialist to determine that, of course. But it seems that you've somehow become bonded to someone, but they haven't entered into the bond, so it's incomplete. That's why you're in pain, because your body needs the bond to be finalized."

"Fuck!" Harry shouted, dropping his head onto the counter. "Why does this kind of thing always happen to me?"

"Sorry, Mr. Potter," Elias said regretfully.

Harry lifted his head and looked at the man. "Nothing for you to be sorry for. Thanks for your help." He started to turn and leave, but then remembered he owed for the potion he'd taken.

Mr. Bobbin waved him off and said it was his pleasure to assist the Boy Who Lived Twice. Harry grimaced, but nodded his head in thanks.

"Uh, can I also count on you not to let anyone else know about this? I kind of need to figure out what's going on before the press and the general public get wind of it."

After getting the man's assurances that he wouldn't tell anyone what had happened, Harry headed towards the Ministry and to work. Things were beginning to make sense in his head, but Harry didn't like the way the story was unfolding. Judging from the time the symptoms had begun and remembering the last time he'd come into contact with foreign magic, Harry had a bad feeling that he needed to drop by the Department of Mysteries.

Talking to the Unspeakable that he'd delivered the remains of the artifact to a couple of weeks earlier was an exercise in frustration. Her name was Tabitha Carlisle and Harry was astonished to have gotten that much out of her, because it was seemingly impossible to keep her on task for more than three minutes at a time.

Her office was really more of a laboratory, as there were several potion cauldrons bubbling, numerous boxes with mysterious sounds coming out of them, strange looking plants that appeared to be sentient, and several things that Harry couldn't even tell what they were except that they looked ancient.

As he was trying to talk to her to find out more about the broken urn and the goo he'd brought to her, she kept interrupting him to go stir a cauldron, or cast a spell into one of the boxes, or to feed something to one of the plants.

It was all highly disturbing and Harry was seriously weirded out. He was on the verge of giving up on her and going to find Hermione immediately.

"Now, Potter, what was your question again?" Tabitha asked as she absently pulled a clinging vine from one of the plants off of her wrist. Harry could swear that it whimpered a bit as she whacked it with her wand.

"I was asking you about the urn that I brought to you a couple of weeks ago," Harry said for the third time. He was trying to remain calm, but it was becoming difficult. Plus, he thought Bobbin's numbing potion was beginning to wear off.

"Oh, that, right! Thought I sent you a memo on that. Did I not?"

"No, you did not," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"Hmm, wonder where that memo got to? I usually put the ones I'm going to send…" she trailed off as she stood in the center of the room and tapped a finger to her mouth as she glanced around. "…Oh!"

Harry jumped at her sudden exclamation and then cursed under his breath as she skipped over to a box – not one of the ones that was making noises, thank Merlin – and began rummaging around in it. Several pieces of parchment flew everywhere, some of them folded into weird animal shapes. Other things that looked like Muggle devices that had somehow been warped and changed flew out as well.

"Oh, here's that ekeltric tooth cleaner I've been looking for everywhere!" She stood up and walked over to her workbench. Putting on a huge pair of goggles, she picked up some kind of tool and began fiddling with the electric toothbrush.

Harry stared at her back in disbelief. With a grunt of annoyance, he went over to the box she'd been rooting around in and began looking through the bits of parchment himself. After struggling to unfold some of the origami ones because she used a hell of a sticking charm to keep them folded, Harry finally saw one that looked roughly like a lightning bolt.

"She must be joking," he muttered, but sure enough, when he eventually got it open, his name was at the top.

"Attn: Harry Potter," it said at the top in a messy scrawl. "Examination of artifact brought to me on 9th April, 2002. Based on pictographs of Aengus, Celtic god of love and youth, and various other symbols indicating marriage, faith, and fidelity, I believe the urn to have been used in ancient bonding rituals." Harry groaned, but gamely kept on reading.

"Liquid previously inside the urn, which was obtained from Mr. Potter's robes and person, is a potion designed to insure fidelity of the partners to each other, based on ingredients used. Mr. Potter should be warned that the magic of the spell used to bind participants in the ritual may have warped due to age of the artifact. He should be careful not to touch anyone, or allow anyone to touch him, until he's been sterilized with intense cleaning spells. Tabitha!" Harry's voice rose as he read the last few words until he was screaming.

He vividly recalled Draco grabbing him by the shoulder while he was still covered in the goo, and as far as he could remember, no one else had touched him between the time he'd gotten to the Ministry and when he'd headed home.

"You're still here?" she said as she turned to glance at him, before turning back to her workbench. "Thought you'd gone," she muttered.

"Did you not think this information might have been important for me to know two weeks ago when I was still covered in that shit?!"

She spun back around and whipped off the goggles to give him an irritated glare. "Well, I didn't know about it then, did I? I did tell you to go to St. Mungo's, if you recall."

"You said to go to St. Mungo's if I was worried. You didn't tell me there was anything to be worried about!"

"You should have known to go to St. Mungo's anyway!"

Harry pulled at his hair in frustration, letting out a yell at having to continue to deal with this person. Then he took a deep breath and tried to calm down. When he could speak again without raising his voice, he said, "All right then. Suppose that someone touched me and an incomplete bond was initiated. What would happen if the bond was never completed?"

"Hmm, well, you'd probably be in a lot of pain. Could get progressively worse the longer the bond remains incomplete."

"Okay," Harry said, his heart sinking at where he was sure this was leading. "What would happen to the other person? Would they experience any ill effects?"

"If you were the only person to enter into the bonding, it should only affect you. Wait, are you saying this is happening to you now?" she asked, and Harry was a little disturbed by the excited gleam in her eye.

"I didn't say that," he said quickly.

"Oh, but that would be absolutely fascinating to study! The effects on your body and your magic…"

"Hold on, it would affect my magic?" Harry asked, horrified.

"Well, it would affect everything, wouldn't it? Your physical and mental health, your magic, even your emotions would start to be out of control."

"Oh, fuck," Harry said weakly. He leaned heavily on the wall behind him.

"Unless you completed the bond. Then everything would be hunky-dory. Heck, even just being around your bondmate would make it possible to delay the ill effects-"

Harry jumped back up, hope flaring in his heart. "If I'm around the person, it will help?"

"Of course. What the bond wants is proximity and contact. Ideally, sexual contact, of course, but even casual contact would be helpful."

A tiny squeak of surprise escaped Harry before he could help himself. The thought of sexual contact with Malfoy wasn't exactly as off-putting as it might have been a few years ago. Harry didn't know if that was the bond talking or not, seeing as he had been somewhat attracted to Malfoy before, but his imagination started to go in interesting directions before he cut it off with a shake of his head.

"So how long would it help if I were to just stay near my, uh, bondmate?"

Tabitha shrugged. "Who knows? It might be enough to stave off the effects forever, for a few years, or a few months."

"Bottom line…if the bond is not completed, am I going to die?" He'd stopped pretending that his situation was hypothetical, but he didn't think Tabitha noticed anymore, so entranced was she with just the possibilities.

"I couldn't give a one hundred per cent guarantee, but my instincts, based on what I figured out about the bond, say the answer is probably no."

"Thanks for your help. I've got to go," Harry said hurriedly, and got out of her office as fast as he could.

As he made his way up to the Auror department, Harry's mind was spinning as he wondered what he should do. He and Draco had just managed to work out a truce between them. How the hell was Harry going to walk up to him now, and say they needed to bond to keep him from falling to his knees in pain every five minutes?

Proximity and casual contact. That was what he needed to try and engineer, without Draco realizing it. By the time he reached the cubicle that he and Malfoy shared, Harry had convinced himself that this would be possible. He'd found and destroyed Horcruxes, faced a Dark Lord half a dozen times, and somehow managed to break up with Ginny Weasley without her brothers wanting to kill him. He could do this.

"Potter, I was just wondering if you were going to deign to join us this morning," Draco said.

Harry dredged up a smile, and clapped Draco on the shoulder as he walked by him. He held back a sigh at the wave of relief that swept through him.

"You know I can't go a day without seeing your pretty face, Malfoy," Harry teased. He was startled by the odd look on Draco's face, before the other man laughed and called him a tosser.

They started their day by sorting through case files, and it was good. Harry just made sure that he touched Draco's elbow to get his attention, or that he brushed his hand as they traded parchment back and forth.

Yeah, he could do this. And he would make sure that he did it without disrupting Draco's life any more than he had to.

For the next month, Harry walked a fine line, battling the pain at night time, and casually touching Draco whenever he could during the day. Weekends were complete and total hell, but Harry got through it with careful doses of the numbing potion that Mr. Bobbin had introduced him to. When he'd gone back to get another vial, the potions master had advised him that too much could be addicting, and he could need more and more for it to work.

So Harry cautiously measured out doses over the weekend, just enough to take the worst edge off the pain. Still, he was always thankful when Monday morning rolled around.

Things might have continued on in that vein for ages, if Harry had ever mastered the art of being subtle. Apparently he had not, as Draco decided to confront Harry over a few things. They were having a cuppa in the break room, and they happened to be alone in doing so when Draco decided to speak up.

"So, Potter, I've been meaning to ask you…is all the touching lately your way of flirting with me?" Draco said, raising one brow as he took a sip of his tea.

Harry nearly choked on his drink, and then almost dropped the cup. "What are you talking about?"

Malfoy's amused expression quickly turned into a frown. "Seriously, Potter, you can't believe I'm that oblivious, and surely you're not that naïve."

"I…I…um…" Harry stammered, his mind going completely blank as to how to handle this.

Draco's frown cleared and he smiled, almost looking tender as he put his cup down and took a step closer to Harry.

"Hey, no need to be so nervous. I'm trying to tell you that I'm not exactly unreceptive, you know. I've…been interested in you for a while," he said softly.

Harry completely panicked. His thoughts began racing a million miles an hour, two things crashing to the forefront of his brain. The first was a mixture of joy and trepidation at Malfoy being so close. The second was a confusing jumble of elation and guilt; elation at seeing what he'd wanted for so long being possible, and guilt because he couldn't start a relationship with Draco now. With the bond, and Draco being unaware of it, Harry felt like they would be starting something under false pretences. And obviously, he couldn't tell Malfoy about the bond, because then he'd feel obligated, something Harry would never want him to feel.

"No! I mean, that's not…I mean…" Harry said, his voice rising with his alarm.

Draco froze and then took several steps back, his face going expressionless. Harry had seen that face before. It was what he called Draco's 'Malfoy Heir' face, probably taught to him the moment he'd begun to toddle on two feet. He'd seen it a lot in the first few months they'd been partnered together, but not at all since their truce. Until now.

"I see. So you've just been taking the piss the last few weeks? Getting one over on the former Death Eater, is that it?"

"No, you don't understand-" Harry said, wondering how to explain this, without having to explain everything.

"Been laughing it up with the Weasel, have you? A big huge joke at Malfoy's expense."

"No! I would never-"

"Well, the joke is on you, Potter! Because this is the final straw. I should have known that you would never take a truce with me seriously. Well, perhaps you'll take this seriously. I will be the one going to see Dawlish to ask for a new partner, since I obviously can't trust you."

Draco's anger was strangely frightening to Harry, sending a chill throughout his body, and a throb of pain through his chest. Unthinkingly, he pressed a hand over his heart as he tried to figure out a way to defuse Draco's fury. If he could only gather his thoughts, and explain, then Draco would understand.

"You disgust me, Potter! To pull such a low-down and dirty trick is beyond reprehensible, something I would have thought beneath a Gryffindor," Draco sneered, and each word was like a knife to Harry's heart.

Harry staggered backwards, his back hitting the counter in the break room, as he suddenly found it difficult to breathe. Draco didn't notice as he continued his rant.

"The sight of you is enough to make me sick. I never want to work with you again. In fact, it would be perfect if I never had to see you again."

The sudden sharp pain in his chest made Harry cry out, as it felt like his heart was exploding. He was only vaguely aware that he'd fallen to his knees. His vision began to darken around the edges, the blackness widening quickly to overtake his sight. He thought he heard someone calling his name as he felt his head hit the floor, but then the darkness swallowed him up and he knew nothing more.

Harry took a deep breath as he awakened, and a part of him was aware enough to be surprised that he was waking up at all. He didn't remember much of what had happened, but he knew that it had hurt like hell. For just a moment, Harry wondered where he was, but then he smelled the antiseptic odor that had always meant the infirmary at Hogwarts. These days, it meant he was in St. Mungo's.

He became aware of two things almost immediately. One, he was completely naked. Two, he was wrapped in the arms of someone else, and that person was also completely naked. At least, he was pretty sure they were, judging by the erection that was nudging his backside.

The body behind him shifted, and Harry realized the other man was awake, too. He pondered whether it might be easier to just go back to sleep, but Harry was still a Gryffindor down to his bones. Cautiously, he turned his head enough to see who was holding him.

His mouth gaped open as he met the stare of Draco Malfoy, who was smirking at him.

"You're an idiot," Malfoy said.

"Huh?"

Draco sighed, and said, "Turn over and lay on your back so you don't have to crane your neck to look at me. This is going to be a long conversation."

"Is it going to explain that?" Harry asked as he wriggled his hips where Draco's cock was poking him. He had no idea where his boldness came from, but he was still interested in the answer to his question.

"Yes," Draco said, and Harry was surprised to see him blushing a little. "And a lot of other things that could have been a lot simpler if you weren't an idiot."

Harry chose to ignore the insult and twisted around until he was lying on his back. Malfoy was still cuddled close to him, his head propped in one hand so he could look at Harry.

"First of all, I want to apologize for my fit of temper. It was mostly undeserved and I didn't mean the majority of it anyway."

"Mostly undeserved?" Harry questioned. It was coming back to him what had happened now, and he recalled Malfoy's words as being unrelentingly cruel.

"Yes, mostly. Because if you had trusted me, then none of that would have happened. It was more hurt than anger, really. You should have told me what was going on."

"So you know then?" Harry said. "About the bond?"

"Yes, I know. Thanks to Granger, of course. Though it did take us almost two days to puzzle it out. Once Hermione talked to that crazy Carlisle woman, it all fell into place."

Harry grimaced. "She is completely bonkers, isn't she? I could barely get a coherent sentence out of her. And she told me I would be okay as long as I stayed near you. Obviously, she's incompetent, too."

Draco snorted. "What she didn't tell you, or you didn't think to ask, was what would happen if the bond thought I was rejecting you. In case you were wondering, it would cause you to die."

"Oh," Harry said in a small voice. That had never even occurred to him.

"Harry," Draco said softly. He reached over and gently brushed Harry's hair off his forehead. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

Harry stared at him wide-eyed. He wasn't sure if he was more surprised by the tender gesture or by the use of his first name. Even with their truce, they'd still mostly called each other by their surnames.

"I don't know," Harry admitted, and honestly, he couldn't think of a good explanation as to why he hadn't just confessed all as soon as he'd figured it out himself. Looking back now, his reasoning seemed kind of ridiculous. Malfoy was his partner. Even if he didn't want to complete the bond, they could have worked on finding a solution together.

"Before you start the mental self-flogging, let me tell you what happened the last week or so."

"Week?" Harry asked, startled. "How long was I out?"

"Ten days. Stop interrupting," Draco said. "After you nearly gave me heart failure by dropping like a stone in the break room, we got you to St. Mungo's as soon as possible. They looked for all kinds of things trying to figure out what was wrong with you; curses, physical ailments, poisoning. All of it came back negative. We were getting rather frantic because you just kept getting worse and worse, and then someone, ahem, Granger, noticed that you seemed to improve whenever I was in the room, and conversely, get worse when I left."

"Heh, good old Hermione," Harry said.

"You'd better not let her hear you call her old. Somehow I doubt she'd appreciate it," Draco said. "Now seriously, stop interrupting. Anyway, that sent her into a frenzy of researching, and once I told her about the artifact incident, that's when she went to the DOM to talk to Carlisle. Then we understood that the bond needed contact and positive reinforcement to make it clear that I wasn't rejecting you. Hence, the lack of clothing, so as to get as much bodily contact as possible," Draco said, his smirk returning.

"Wow," was all Harry could manage to say.

"Even with all that, it still took six days for you to regain consciousness."

"So you've been lying naked in bed with me for almost a week?"

Draco winked at him. "It was a dirty job, but someone had to do it."

"So are we bonded now?"

"Ah, no. No, we're not. That's going to take a bit more than just some cuddling," Draco said.

Harry frowned. "Going to? Does that mean you're willing to do it? Complete the bond?"

"Harry, I would have jumped on you in the first ten minutes if you'd only let me know what was going on. I've already told you I'm a tad obsessed with you. That wasn't just admiration, you know. Quite a bit of lust there, too."

"But it just doesn't seem right. It's like taking away your right to choose," Harry said, and began to worry his bottom lip with his teeth.

Draco put one finger on Harry's mouth, stopping the torture. "Stop that," he murmured. "I am choosing. I'm choosing you."

"Oh," Harry breathed, amazed at the soft expression on Draco's face. He was even more amazed as Draco leaned down and gently pressed his lips to Harry's in the most tender kiss Harry had ever experienced. It felt like his heart was singing with joy.

When Draco pulled away, he was smiling and he was so beautiful, that even if Harry wasn't already half in love with him, he would have started falling then. As it was, Harry was pretty sure he finished the leap at that moment.

"You're incredible," Harry said.

Draco's smile widened. "I know. But then, so are you. Malfoys wouldn't have anyone less than incredible."

Harry laughed, and was pleased when Draco chuckled along with him. After a few minutes, their laughter faded away to a comfortable silence.

"So you know that we have to have sex to complete the bond, right?" Draco said.

Harry felt the heat in his face and knew he was probably Gryffindor red. "What, now?!" he squeaked.

"No, as much as I'm grateful to the staff of St. Mungo's for taking such good care of you, I'm not really of a mind to give them a free show. I just wanted to see you blush."

Harry stuck his tongue out at Draco and pouted a bit at the teasing.

Draco smirked for a moment before his face became serious again. "No, believe me, when we fulfill this bond, Harry, it will be an all night affair. And we'll need a much larger bed," he said, his voice dropping to a seductive growl.

Before Harry could protest, Draco swooped his head down and kissed him again, much more forcefully this time. Harry's breath was taken away, and when Draco finally ended the kiss, he felt dizzy.

Really dizzy all of a sudden, and Draco looked panicked as he said, "Harry!"

After only a moment, Harry got his breath back and the dizziness subsided. He glanced up at Draco and was surprised by the anxious expression on his face.

"Are you all right? You went very pale for a moment."

"I'm okay. Just got a bit dizzy for a second there."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gotten you, er, worked up. The Healers said you'd have to take it easy for a while when you came out of it."

"I'm all right, no need to worry," Harry said. The last of his sentence was interrupted by a huge yawn. "I don't see how I'm tired when I've been doing nothing but sleeping for ten days."

"Your body wasn't getting the proper rest then, and it knows that you need it now. Why don't you go to sleep? The more you rest, the sooner we can leave St. Mungo's and get to other, more interesting things," Draco said, and waggled his eyebrows.

Harry grinned sleepily and sighed as he snuggled into Draco's shoulder and started to drift back into slumber. Just as he was about to drop off, he opened his eyes and looked at Draco.

"You'll be here when I wake up?" Harry asked.

Draco smiled and kissed him on the forehead. "Always," he said softly.

END