Harry Potter One Shots (Vol. I)

Childhood Consequences (Draco Malfoy)

I'm impatient as hell, so I've posted this early 

First of all, I actually cannot believe that this book is complete now ... how have I managed to write 200 of these stories??

Granted it happened over the course of however many years, but still - 200 stories is insane ~

This story is about Draco, because it only made sense to end this book the same way we started, with a story about Draco ~

As usual, this is unedited, but I hope you like it

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BEFORE (1987)

The children had disappeared. It wasn't strange that once the young master Malfoy and the young mistress Neal were forced together, they shot off into the depths of whichever aristocratic family home they were at, to escape the probing eyes of their parents. They weren't friends, this their parents were all too aware of - with the young mistress Neal always fervently protesting at having to put up with the arrogant Malfoy heir - but more like companions that circumstance had brought together. The two seven-year-olds would never choose to spend time together, which their parents were all too aware of. And yet, today it was different.

Today, after having arrived at the Malfoy family home, the young mistress Neal had found herself harassed by the young master Malfoy and reluctantly allowed herself to be led away from her parents, shooting an exasperated look from over her shoulder on her way out. On a normal day, as per the unofficial routine that all of these get-togethers had created, she should have returned to her mother's side within the hour, asking how much longer she needed to put up with the scion of the Malfoy family. Her mother would, without pausing in her conversation with the mistress Malfoy, send her daughter away with an insistent pat on the shoulder. Without shooting her daughter a single sparing glance, the mistress Neal would dismiss her daughter who reluctantly returned to join the youngest Malfoy. It was unsurprising when the mistress Neal had not noticed that her daughter hadn't sought her out.

On a usual day, not long after the young mistress Neal had attempted to escape, it would be the young master Malfoy who arrived, rubbing his arm, or his shin or wherever the young mistress Neal had hit him. He would skulk and make his way to his father, asking the master Malfoy to dismiss the Neal family or to, at the very least, offer his only son some reprieve. It would be master Neal who laughed goodnaturedly at the words, claiming that his daughter was a spitfire before master Malfoy would address his son, reminding him that the Neals were esteemed guests and would need to be treated as such. As always, young master Malfoy would frown deeply, grumbling under his breath about not wanting to hold the young mistress Neal in any form of esteem, but would disappear also. Neither of the men had realised that there had been no disturbance to their conversation.

In fact, neither of the four adults had realised that their children were nowhere to be seen, not until the air had grown chilly and the sky had begun to darken. When the children had not attended dinner in the dining room, mistress Malfoy had asked the elves to send dinner for the children to young master Malfoy's chambers where they were, no doubt, in the midst of a heated debate; when they were in that state, it was better to leave them be. But dinner time had come and gone and when the children did not emerge for cups of tea with their favourite biscuits, the parents had verbalised their surprise but did not look a gift hippogriff in the mouth. Even then, time had passed and with no sign of their children, not even the distance echoing sounds of their voices as they screamed at each other until they were red in the face, the parents finally stood.

The adults separated, taking off in different directions with mistress Malfoy ordering the house elves to spread out and search for the heirs of both families. Neither child responded to their parent's shouts or their pleas to come out. Their mothers, running in a manner they hadn't run since they were school girls, forced their anxious hearts to ease, and their brains to keep the worst thoughts from springing to their minds. The fathers losing all the decorum that had been bred into them from the womb tore through the grounds of Malfoy Manor; they were the ones to stumble across the children.

The young master Malfoy and the young mistress Neal were found, slumped together on the grounds of the manor, lying on their sides on the grass, eyes closed and breathing soundly. Master Neal prepared to approach his daughter, ready to clutch her in his arms and look her over for any sign of injury. A hand, firm and strong, gripped his arm, keeping him at bay.

"Malfoy," Master Neal started to demand, turning to his long-time friend. The expression on Malfoy's face was enough to have the question dying on his lips. He faced forward once more, looking at the slumbering children and allowed his eyes to truly take in the scene. The children, looking at peace and surprisingly clasping each other's hand, were lying in the middle of a circle burned into the grass around them. Runes, ancient but recognisable nonetheless surrounded the perimeter. The air was sucked from his lungs. He struggled for an answer, trying to make sense of everything. "How-"

Master Malfoy didn't need to hear the rest of the question; he didn't have the answer regardless. Instead, he ordered that their wives be summoned and the mothers arrived in a heartbeat. The women, realising what had happened but unable to truly process it, rushed towards their children, bursting through the rune barrier and held them close. Cradled against their mother's chests, the children looked younger than their age. The horror of it all truly set in, weighing heavily on the chest of all four adults; they were only children, how had they managed to do this at such a young age?

Master Malfoy shook off any thought of consequences and settled his mind onto what needed to be done now. He gave his oldest friend a probing look, "We need to head to the Ministry."

"You're right." Master Neal let out a long breath, unable to tear his eyes away from his daughter. She was so young. "The last thing we need is for the ministry to arrive, investigating the underage magic. Lead the way, Malfoy."

No more words were exchanged between either man, and neither shared a glance at their wives who sat, uncaring of the dewy grass under them, with their children gathered in their arms. Neither woman relaised they were rocking their children as if they were still infants.

Over the top of her daughter's head, Mistress Neal sought out Mistress Malfoy's waiting eyes. The woman made a simple proclamation, one Mistress Malfoy agreed to without a second's hesitation, "We don't tell them until they are old enough to understand."

**********

1997

It was never surprising how easy it was to acclimatise back to Hogwarts at the beginning of every school year. It was almost like coming back home after being away for the holidays. The moment I crossed through the entrance hall at the beginning of every year, any worries about the upcoming school year, about upcoming exams faded and I was filled with the giddiness of upcoming nights spent away talking to my friends. Mother had always said that my school years would fly by and I was worried she'd been right. Rowena, how was I already in my sixth year?

Morag, sitting at my side, as we watched the newest students who were steadily sorted one by one into their houses, cast a pointed glance at her wristwatch. She frowned before casting a glance at the still large crowd of first years to be sorted; it was always the same. Morag struggled to sit through the tiresomely long spectacle of the sorting ceremony. Not that I blamed her for her impatience; it did take a while, especially if the sorting hat struggled to isolate a single house for the student.

"Honestly," Padma hissed under her breath when Morag cast another pointed glance at her watch. From across the table, Padma leaned towards us, speaking from behind tight lips, "Looking at the watch won't make time pass any quicker so just be patient and graciously welcome every student that joins us at the table."

Unimpressed, but chastised, Morag shot Padma a narrow-eyed glance. "Yes, mum."

"Don't take that tone with me," Padma started warningly.

Sensing the danger in the air and not wanting a repeat of the debacle last year - where the pair had almost shot off spells at each other in the middle of the sorting ceremony and Professor Flitwick had seen fit to take points from all three of us - I piped up quickly. "If you two make us lose points, I swear to Rowena herself, I will glue you both to your beds."

"You wouldn't dare," they said in unison. For two witches who struggled to get along, they did that a lot.

"Try me."

After sharing a dorm with me for years, they knew that I carried through all of my threats; Rowena, after growing up alongside an arrogant toerag of a boy I'd learned that there was nothing beneficial about empty threats. It was only if you carried through with every threat that people paid attention to your words. My eyes, the way they did whenever thoughts of Draco sprung unbidden to my mind, darted across the hall, searching him out as he sat.

Draco, even from a distance, was easy to find. He sat, stony-faced and silent, watching the sorting with little interest. My eyes, greedy in their search, catalogued his features, searching the changes that had taken place in them throughout the summer holiday as if I hadn't seen him just a few weeks ago at his family Manor. Still, my gaze skirted along the sharp slope of his cheekbones, the magnificent grey-silver of his eyes and -

An elbow at my side brought me from my musings, reminding me of where I was and just what I'd been doing. Horror coloured my features as I ducked my head a little, using my hair to shield my reddening cheeks, as I joined the applause that welcomed the newest Ravenclaw to the flock. The sorting ceremony continued slowly and I forced my eyes to remain rooted to the front of the hall, pointedly avoiding even casting a glance at the seated Slytherin. I had the vaguest probing feeling that his eyes had sought me out as well.

Finally, once the ceremony came to an end and it was time to eat, I filled my plate with food and settled in to listen to Padma and Morag as they told me everything they'd got up to over the summer. I would've been a lot more talkative, contributing more to the conversation, if I still wasn't insistent on keeping a tight rein on myself; it was all far too horrifying, how easy it had become to lose myself in thoughts of Draco. It was absolutely ... disgusting, to be frank, this was the boy who had terrorised my childhood, the childhood I had been forced to make because of my parent's connection to the Malfoys. And yet, thoughts of him had started intruding into my day-to-day life with more frequency.

"You've been quiet," Padma said as we got up from the table, and started our journey back to the common room.

"I haven't," I denied, knowing it was a lie. Standing from the table, I adjusted my robes and started towards the doors.

"You have," Morag piped up, from behind me. She nudged me teasingly with her shoulder, "Lost in thoughts at Stephen, huh?"

Mouth dropping open in surprise, I cast a glance back at the table where thankfully our housemate was sitting, talking to Terry about something. "Would you keep it down! What if he heard you?"

"Oh please." Padma waved her hand dismissively as we made it to the end of the table. She finally reached outside, "The boy is the most oblivious member of our house."

"And that's saying something when you remember Kevin is in our year." Morgan shot a glance back at the table, I just knew she was searching out her 'mortal enemy'.

"Leave Kevin alone," I said with an exasperated sigh as we headed out of the great hall, only to stumble in my steps when our paths crossed three green and silver-robed students.

Before I could even hope to stop myself, my eyes sought out Draco as he stood, flanked by Zabini and Nott on either side. The three students, standing tall and proud, had also stopped in their steps, surprised at having met us on their way out. Whatever they'd been talking about had fallen away, with the three Slytherin falling silent. Not that I paid all three of them much heed. Instead, I tried not to fidget with my hands as Draco held my eyes. It was troubling but lately, I'd been unable to take my eyes away from him, my eyes would only be freed when he decided that I was no longer worth looking at.

I distantly realised that Zabini had pointedly nudged Draco whose eyes left me just briefly, to greet my friends. All too soon, his eyes were back on mine, "Neal."

"Malfoy," I echoed back quietly. Belatedly, I acknowledged his friends, "Zabini, Nott."

Nothing else was said for a moment before he, at last, looked away and I had to shamefully remind myself to get a grip. Once I was back in the safety of the common room I could let myself feel the embarrassment fully. But for now, I just had to hope neither Padma nor Morag had noticed anything.

"Ladies first," Zabini said finally, when it became obvious that we were all crowding the entrance. He outstretched his hand to emphasise his point.

Although I knew better, I still glanced at Draco. I chastised myself silently, even when I met his waiting eyes.

"Go ahead," Draco said with a slight nod of his head and I didn't need to be told again.

Hurrying out of the room before the awkward encounter could be prolonged any further, I tried to tune back into the conversation as Morag and Padma questioned me about whether or not Stephen and I had been able to go on the date we'd been planning. I gave a murmured answer that we'd met up over the summer, but my heart wasn't in retelling the story. Rather, I was still struggling to shake off the wonder of silver eyes. Rowena, I was fucked up.

**********

Morag was dreading N.E.W.T level potions. The subject had filled her with so much anxiety that I couldn't wonder why she'd decided to take the subject in the first place. And yet, here she was, chattering nervously at my side as we walked towards the Potions dungeon. Even though Professor Snape was no longer teaching Potions - and Righteous Rowena, everyone knew of the sheer terror Snape instilled in Morag - she worried that Professor Slughorn would be the same. She talked to fill the nervous silence.

"You'll be alright, Morag, I'll be right here to help you" I assured her as we walked into the classroom.

We paused on the room's threshold, looking around with a frown; everyone was seated in a strange arrangement. Students, who I was certain had never shared a word, were seated side by side.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Morag grumbled, as we approached the desks. As we drew closer to the tables, I realised that there were place cards in front of each seat. Seating arrangements were the worst thing a teacher could do at the beginning of the year.

Shooting me yet another nervous smile, Morag searched out her seat and took her space next to an exasperated Granger who was in the middle of an animated argument with Weasley. I offered her a smile that I hoped was reassuring. I wasn't sure that it worked, but when I found my seat, at the table right next to hers, I swore I saw some of the tension leave her shoulders.

"Trust me, Morag," I said loud enough to cross the short distance between our tables, "You'll be fine. The Gryffindors won't eat you alive."

"No, but they'll do something that'll have me covered in an exploded potion," she grumbled under her breath, putting her bag on the table. I couldn't contest her words, not when she had a point.

I watched a little longer as she started passive-aggressively looking through her bag, shooting the Gryffindors around her a veiled threat that if they pulled her into any of their shenanigans, she'd give them hell. Stifling a short laugh, I settled down in my designated seat for the next year, and pulled my ink well and quill out from my bag.

"Is this seat taken?" the question had me pausing in my search for my textbook. The voice, familiar enough to have me smiling softly, took me for pause.

Lifting my head, I met the gentle waiting eyes. The Ravenclaw stood in front of me, hands tucked into the pockets of his robes as he rocked a little on his feet. His smile was wide as he watched me, open and freely given. In the back of my mind, I recalled another smile - one more guarded and rarely given, making it all the more precious. I dismissed the thought as quickly as it came.

"Stephen," I greeted, crossing my arms and propping them on the desk. "If the place card doesn't have your name on it, then unfortunately not."

He cast an absent glance at the place card and shrugged. "Unfortunately not."

Still, he lingered and I tried to stifle a knowing smile. "Shouldn't you be getting a move on then?"

"In a little bit." From behind him, Terry called out that he'd found their seats and Stephen acknowledged his words with a nod. But his eyes didn't leave me. "So, how have you been then, Neal?"

"I've been good, Cornfoot."

His smile grew wider. "Did you miss me?"

"Should I have missed you?"

"Of course, you should've," he teased back. "You should've been eagerly waiting my owl."

Eyebrows rising and wanting to knock his baby ego down a peg, I scoffed. I'd grown up alongside the infamous Malfoy ego; this was nothing. "You definitely think a lot of yourself, don't you?"

Stephen rolled his eyes and still, his smile didn't dim. He started to say something, only to be cut off when a voice called out from behind him, "You need to get a move on, Cornfoot, you're in my way."

That voice, one far more familiar, had me straightening up in my seat. I forced msyelf not to fidget, to try and straighten out my appearance as my eyes drifted past Stephen to find Draco as he stood. Stephen stepped aside, allowing Draco to walk towards my desk, and I silently stored away the knowledge that Draco stood almost a head taller than Stephen. I tried not to make it obvious that Draco now held all my attention, watching him from the corner of my eye as he picked up the place card at my side, read the name written on it, before putting his bag down onto the table. For the first time since finding my own seat, I glanced at the place card at my side. Sure enough it read; Draco Malfoy.

Draco drew the stool out from under the table, the scrape of it against the floor shattering my focus. My attention went back to Stephen who was still standing in front of me. I offered him a smile.

"I think the lesson is about to begin," I said quietly.

"I'll walk you back after the lesson?" Stephen offered, already turning to find his seat.

"I'd like that."

I watched Stephen for a little longer before turning back to my bag. Pulling out my textbook, I put it on the table and found some clean parchment. Setting my bag on the floor, I crossed my feet at my ankle and settled in the silence with my desk mate. In all my years at school with Draco, I hadn't shared a desk with him, and it was far more awkward than I would've thought it would be.

"You've got a crush on Cornfoot then?" Draco pierced the silence. When I shot him a horrified glance, I realised he was sitting with his chin propped on his hand, and his face tilted towards me. He searched my features. "Surely he's a bit too ... golden boy for you?"

"What would you know about my type?" I shot back. He didn't rise to my question, continuing to just watch me. "Besides, what makes you think anything about Cornfoot?"

"Oh please." He straightened up in his chair. "Do you honestly think I don't know what you look like when you have a crush on someone?"

Affronted, and irritated beyond belief that he thought he knew me, I insisted, "You don't."

He scoffed, rolling those glorious eyes. "For once, just be honest, Neal. I know exactly what you look like when you have a crush on someone. You used to look at me that way."

"Excuse me! I never-"

"As I said, be honest," he cut in. "I saw the way you were looking at me during the Yule Ball."

"And how would you know that," I shot back.

"Obviously because I was looking at you throughout the Yule Ball," Draco said in such a straightforward manner as if he expected me to accept it at face value. Except, how could I? I knew what was going unsaid. It was an unsaid; I was looking at you like that too. How did I move past that? Especially when those eyes were searching mine.

My response came out uncertain, hesitant and nothing more than a murmur, "Stop it, Draco."

"I haven't done anything." And it was true, he hadn't. Yet it felt like he had.

Left with nothing to say, I turned my focus back to the front of the classroom, waiting for Professor Slughorn to arrive. Hidden out of sight, I drew my hands together in my lap, clutching them and hoping to stop them from buzzing with nerves. I'd spent my entire childhood growing up beside this man and yet, he still made me nervous.

**********

Sixth year Alchemy was such a small class, that there was often little to discuss. The students in the class had elected to take the subject because we all had an interest in it and were busy soaking up all the knowledge that it was by far, the most silent class. The only real sound that could be heard beyond the chatter of our Professor was that of quills furiously scribbling down notes. Every week, without fail, the lesson ended far too quickly and I was left scrambling to finish off my sentence, to jot it down before it all fled from my mind.

Pressing my last full stop into the parchment, I put my quill down with a sigh. Straightening my back to ease the ache from leaning down to write for almost the entire period, I absentmindedly stretched my right hand, trying to ease the strained muscle. Digging my left thumb into the palm of my right hand, I massaged out the pressure before standing. Gathering my things, I slung my bag over my shoulder and started to make my way back to the common room for my free period.

Before I left the classroom, I thanked my Professor for the lesson and then stepped out into the corridor. Not that I made it far. My eyes settled on the Ravenclaw standing a short distance away from the door; he had no business being in this part of the castle. It wasn't hard to work out why he was here. I made a direct beeline for Stephen who upon spying me, straightened up.

"What are you doing here, Cornfoot?" I asked, coming to stop in front of him. "You don't take Alchemy."

"I'm here to walk you back to the common room," he said as if it was obvious, and maybe it was. I tried not to think about the fact that Draco had walked me back to the common room last week - even if he had grumbled the entire way. Forcing thoughts of Draco away, I listened as Stephen reminded me with that wide smile of his, "My parents raised me to be a gentleman."

"Oh please." I rolled my eyes as we started on our way back to the common room. "Let's not pretend; the only child of pureblood parents tends to be raised to be a spoiled brat."

"You're an only child of pureblood parents."

Shooting him a look, I didn't contain my pleased smile, "Exactly."

He chuckled shortly, shaking his head. He didn't let the silence linger for long, filling it as he told me about something he and his dormmates had gotten up to. I tried to pay attention, as he recounted something that either had happened to Terry or something that Terry had done - but I couldn't pay him much mind. Not when my eyes had clocked onto Draco as he walked past both of us, adjusting the bag on his shoulder as he went. Gaze locked on his retreating figure, I studied him until he turned the corner and disappeared from sight. I'd wanted to find Draco at the end of the lesson, to ask if I could borrow his notes because he somehow had the knack of being able to keep up with the lesson. I'd have to wait a little longer for that now.

As soon as my eyes could no longer trail after Draco, my ears tuned back into Stephen who was still midway through his story. I tried not to fidget with the sleeves of my robes, to not make it obvious that I hadn't been paying attention to what he'd said. Because I hadn't been paying him attention and I really shouldn't have been doing this. Yes, even as recently as a few months ago, in the last term of my fifth year, Stephen had easily made me feel butterflies and had been solely responsible for the jitters of a crush. And months of flirting had culminated in a date over the summer holidays. But - but even then, on the date, I'd been thinking of white-blond hair and silver-grey eyes. Somehow, the few days, I'd spent in Draco's company over the summer holiday had been enough to wipe Stephen's imprint away. Except, I didn't think that was the complete truth either.

If I was being truly honest with myself, I'd admit that I'd forced myself to be drawn to Stephen who was openly interested in me and was so different to Draco. But I wasn't truly honest with myself, I couldn't be yet. Still, I needed to be honest with Stephen, to be nice to him and admit that this was going nowhere.

My quiet contemplations came to an end as we reached the entrance to the common room. The eagle-shaped knocker announced its riddle and before I could answer it, Stephen called my name.

I turned to face him, glancing apprehensively at his features; it was painfully obvious what he wanted to do. He spoke before I could try to intercede. "Before we go in-"

And then he was leaning down, bringing his face towards mine. My hands curled at my side as I stopped myself from pushing him away; a verbal rejection would be enough, I didn't need to embarrass him even further by shoving him away from me.

"Stephen-"

His lips soft and barely there graced the corner of my mouth and I cried out in pain, rearing back in shock. I stumbled back, a shaking hand raised to my mouth; it felt like I'd been electrocuted. Drawing in deep breaths, I stared back at Stephen with wide eyes, my mind struggling to make sense of anything.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned hands outstretched to grab me as if worrying that I would topple over.

"I'm fine, I'm fine" I assured him distractedly. Unprompted, my mind recalled my mother's warning; she'd always said to stay away from men, that they would likely bring me pain. I was certain she hadn't meant physical pain.

Before he could say anything, and before he could even get through his apology, I made a mumbled excuse and announced the answer to the riddle. Darting into the common room, I left Stephen far behind and rushed towards my dorm. Padma gave a concerned call of my name, but I waved her off; I wouldn't even know what to say to her. Right now, I had a letter to write. Somehow, I was certain mother would have the answers I needed.

**********

One heartfelt apology to Stephen (and one experiment) later, I'd come to the conclusion that any form of physical contact with him caused me physical pain. It was something I needed to investigate and that was why I spend the days prior to the first Hogsmeade trip of the year counting them down. My dormmates had even teased me that I had some sort of hot date lined up. And well, if that date was with knowledge, then yes, I did.

I woke early on the day of the Hogsmeade trip, getting ready and catching the first carriage down to the town. Adjusting the scarf around my neck, I tucked my chin into it, shielding myself from the cold winds on my trek to the tea shop. Making my way through the crowds of students, I quickened my paces as the shop came into sight.

Pushing the door to Madam Puddifoot's open, I lingered a little in the doorway and searched the tables, looking for mother. I found her already seated, perusing the menu in front of her. She hadn't seen me yet, but I approached her regardless.

"Mother," I greeted when I got into her earshot.

She looked up at the sound of my voice, a smile gracing her features, bringing them to light. Setting the menu aside, she stood up and embraced me quickly. I returned her hug, holding her close; it was nice to have physical contact with someone that didn't result in physical pain. I was so wary about being hurt again that I'd made sure to keep my hands to myself.

Settling into the seat across from Mother, I removed my scarf and shrugged out of my coat. Propping my chin up on my clasped hands, I scanned the menu. Mother was quick to take my order, approaching the counter and placing our order. When she returned to the table, Mother took her seat, watching me warily from over the table. She studied me with that downward turn to her mouth, the one that told me she was struggling to understand a dilemma.

"Is everything alright, darling?" Mother asked at last. Her eyes flickered to my hands that rested on the tabletop; I was absentmindedly fidgeting with them. I stopped at once. "You never ask to see me doing the school year."

I cast a glance around the tea shop, knowing that no one would bother paying enough attention to us to overhear what we were talking about. But the last thing I needed was for a student to happen to pick up bits of the conversation. It would make me sound absolutely insane and if word got back to the teachers, well - then I'd have a trip to St Mungo's in my future.

When I was satisfied that the coast was clear, I sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over my face. "Honestly, I feel like I'm going crazy. There's just no other explanation."

"I won't know what you're talking about unless you actually tell me," Mother pointed out, falling silent for a moment when our order was carried over.

Accepting the teapots and cups with a smile, I thanked the older witch. Pouring the tea into our cups, I accepted the slice of cake Mother handed off to me. Sitting patiently across from me, Mother continued to watch me, waiting for me to say something but I didn't. Instead, I picked up my fork and broke off a piece of my cake; I just needed to formulate how I was going to say what I wanted to say.

"Well?" Mother prompted.

"Okay." I breathed out a sigh through my nose. Taking a bite of my cake, I savoured the sugar and used it to fortify my nerves. "This is going to sound absolutely crazy, I know it, but you have to believe me, okay?"

She watched me apprehensively, "Darling?"

"Okay?" I insisted. When Mother nodded, I spoke hurriedly. "Do you remember Stephen Cornfoot? The boy in my year that I met up with over the summer?"

Mother gave a wary call of my name, but I shook my head, making her fall silent. Knowing she had a million questions and that she had already jumped to countless conclusions, I spoke quickly.

"Well, he kissed me and I felt actual pain like I'd been shot or something. And then when I tried to hold his hand - to see if it would happen again - it did! I don't know what's going on but I'm absolutely terrified about touching anyone. How am I supposed to-"

My rambling ended abruptly when Mother put her hand on mine. I stared silently at her hand; there was no pain. Absolutely none. Confused beyond measure, but relieved nonetheless, my eyes flickered questioningly towards Mother. It was all there in the way she was looking at me; she had the answer to everything, and she knew exactly what was going on.

"I told you to stay away from boys," Mother said around a sigh. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, I stopped myself from verbalising any of the questions I had. Instead, I waited and sure enough, Mother sighed reluctantly and spoke. But not before she drew her wand out from her robes and cast a silencing charm around us. "When you were younger - about 7 years old, you had a burst of very powerful underage magic. Extremely powerful underage magic, it was impressive, really."

"Mother."

"Right." Her other hand reached for mine, holding both of them steady. She spoke slowly as if to emphasise how important what she was saying was. "We had been invited to Malfoy Manor for the evening. Both you and Draco had disappeared and didn't come back for hours. When we went looking for you, we found you both slumped on the grounds, sleeping."

"And?" I prompted her when she trailed off. Righteous Rowena, just that way Mother's hands had tightened their hold on mine had my stomach turning anxiously. "That can't be it."

"You've seen the rune perimeter burnt into the ground since then. That was you - you and Draco." Mother's voice was steady as if what she was telling me was normal, that it wasn't something that had sent my mind reeling. "Your underage bursts of magic bound the pair of you together and when you shared the ... gesture of physical affection with another boy, you were violating that bond. Hence, the pain."

"Wait!" I ripped my hands away from Mother's, watching her in horror. She held my gaze steadily.

This wasn't - it made no sense! There was no way that I could have bound myself to Draco fucking Malfoy of all people! Especially at such a young age. And yet, I knew it was the truth; the pain was there, but I'd seen the lingering imprint of the binding that still marred the grounds of Malfoy Manor.

Furious that something this important about my own life had been hidden from me, I accused, "You knew about this! And you said nothing to me. Nothing!"

Likely expecting my fury, Mother kept her calm. That was all the more aggravating. Still, she explained, "Your father and I, together with the Malfoys decided not to say anything until you were both older. The pair of you would have naturally gravitated towards one another and then we would explain."

"That doesn't make it any better!"

"Would you rather we have condemned you to the knowledge that you were already bound to someone, even before you knew yourself as a person?"

Dropping my head into my hands, I grumbled, "This is so fucked up."

Mother, for once, let the language slide. Not that I would have appreciated her taking the chance to scold me after she'd kept something this fucking massive from me. Massaging my temples to try and ease the pounding headache that had manifested, I tried to make sense of everything. Not that it made any sense, at all.

Merlin, I needed to speak to Draco.

**********

When Mother left, I struggled to return her hug, still harbouring resentment for all that she'd hidden from me. Both her and father. If they had expected me to overcome something so significant so easily then they had another thing coming. For now, I needed to search out my ... partner in this binding.

After reaching the castle, I clambered off of the carriage with quick steps and paid no heed to the students who were just now making their way down to Hogsmeade. I didn't doubt that there were very few students in the castle, most would have taken the opportunity to leave the school grounds, but I just hoped that Draco hadn't been one of them. As I walked through the castle I forced myself to measure my paces, keeping an even tempo, even though I wanted to take off into a brisk run. But just the thought of the rumours that could potentially swirl around the castle about my haste to get to the Slytherin common room stopped me. The last thing I needed was for Morag and Padma to corner me about a secret Slytherin lover when there was so much on my mind. Perhaps a secret Slytherin bond mate - if that was a thing - was a better description of everything?

Dismissing the thought, I finally reached the entrance to the common room. I stared at the bare stretch of the stone wall, not knowing what to do now. I'd been banking on coincidentally being able to make my way in by following a Slytherin into the common room or asking one of them to check for Draco. But there was none in sight.

I paced in front of the wall, contemplating how many guesses it would take for me to guess the password. Could it truly be that difficult to guess? Of course, it would be difficult; there was any number of things the password could potentially be. I was saved from the embarrassment of randomly calling out different ideas for the password when a student rounded the corner.

The boy - looking small enough to be a first year, slowed his paces down when he saw me standing outside of his common room. His approach was hesitant as if hoping for some explanation for what I - a Ravenclaw, and definitely not a Slytherin - was doing standing outside of his common room. Growing exasperated at how long it was taking to cross the space between us, I gestured for the kid to hurry up. He didn't take the hint, not that I really expected him to; Slytherins were stubborn beasts.

"Stop looking at me like I'm going to hex you," I said with a sigh once the young Slytherin stopped at my side. When I gestured expectantly towards the entrance to the common room, he eyed me dubiously from the corner of his eye. "Relax, I'm not going to barge in and they're not going to hang you for it. Just get me Malfoy."

"I don't know-"

"If he's in there, get me Draco," I insisted, firmer this time in a tone that left no room for argument.

With an irritated sigh, the younger boy announced the password - pureblood of all things - and made his way into the common room, after explicitly warning me not to follow after him. Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms over my chest and waited. If Draco wasn't in the common room, the kid better have the sense to tell me that.

I wasn't kept waiting long. Shortly after the kid had disappeared, the wall moved once more, revealing a passage. I peered into the darkened passage, thankful to see the wizard who was making his way towards me. Draco, after shooting me a curious glance, stepped out into the corridor and watched me expectantly.

"I never thought the day would come when you sought me out," he said with an arched eyebrow. "I won't lie, you've got me intrigued, Neal."

"Did you know?" I questioned without any preamble. His eyebrows drew together as he studied me, not saying anything. With an irritated sigh, I shot him a glare, "I hope you're aware that this is all your fault."

The words were enough to pierce through his silence. Scoffing, Draco shot back, "Don't try and pin this on me. Binding magic needs two people to perform it."

He realised as soon as he'd finished speaking; he'd admitted the very thing he had been reluctant to say. Cursing under his breath, Draco watches me apprehensively. Well, it was certainly too late for that. Drawing my hands into fists at my side, I breathed out forcefully through my nose, stopping the urge to punch him. If we were bound then I had no way of knowing how punching him would make me feel.

"You knew?" I demanded in a voice that was on the wrong side of shrill but I couldn't bring myself to care. Just let the twat decide to call me a shrill woman and I'd hex him into the next decade, regardless of what that meant for me. "You knew and you didn't tell me?"

"How was I supposed to tell you?" he shot back just s heatedly. He cast a glance around the corridor as if remembering we were in public. Draco took a step towards me, closing the distance between us and when he spoke next it was in a hissed whisper, "It's not an easy thing to tell someone, Neal. Salazar's soul, how was I supposed to tell you of all people that you're condemned to be with him."

With him standing this close to me, I had to lift my head a little to hold his eyes, but I did it. Holding his gaze and struggling not to be drawn in by them, I shook my head firmly. "We don't have time for your melodrama, Malfoy. We need to find a way to undo this."

"Trust me, Neal, I've been looking for a way to undo this from the moment I found out." I kept my response measured; he didn't need to know that it stung to think that he'd been trying so desperately to be unbound from me. "I haven't found anything."

"No offence," I started, taking a much-needed space away from him. It helped to clear my brain. "But you're no Ravenclaw."

"I could've been," he retorted, starting a frequent disagreement we'd had over the years. "If I hadn't asked the hat to put me in Slytherin."

Rolling my eyes and refusing to engage in a conversation we'd had far too many times, I asked instead, "When did you find out?"

For a long moment, I thought he wouldn't answer me. He certainly was in no rush to respond to my question. But he did eventually answer me. "Fourth year, over the winter break."

**********

From the moment I'd found out the truth of what had happened in my childhood, my thoughts were occupied with contemplations about my future, about undoing the binding. It had been an act created by an accidental burst of magic from my childhood when I had no idea what I was doing, it was hardly moral or ethical that I'd be forced to live with the consequences of something so life-changing. And yet, in all my late-night research sessions, I was coming across countless dead ends.

Pushing the broccoli around my plate, I tried to draw myself out of my thoughts. Lately, my brain had started to entertain the idea that being bound to Draco wouldn't be so bad. I dismissed the thought as soon as it had arrived. Or rather, I tried to. I wanted, more than anything, to be able to stop thinking about the binding and yet, I couldn't. I wanted to join the conversations that my friends were having around me, to at least maintain a facade that nothing had changed. I was doing a piss poor job of it all.

"Earth to Neal," Morag said, snapping her fingers in front of my face. It worked, bringing me from my contemplation.

"Don't be so rude," Padma sighed, pushing Morag's hand aside. She offered me a hesitant smile, "Is everything alright, Neal?"

"Everything's fine." I offered them a smile, and when they shared an unconvinced look, I speared a piece of broccoli and popped it into my mouth as if to prove a point. Chewing it thoroughly and swallowing my mouthful, I insisted, "My brain's just stuck trying to make sense of the last Alchemy lecture. It's all very confusing."

"I told you not to take Alchemy." Morag shook her head, turning her attention back to her dinner plate.

Padma, however, continued watching me with disapproving eyes. She studied me for a moment, in a way that had me convinced she could read my mind. But before she could say anything else, my eyes drifted past her shoulder, settling on Draco who stood and headed out of the Great Hall. We'd agreed to meet this evening and I needed to hurry.

"I'm off to the library," I said abruptly, standing from my chair. When Padma went to protest, I waved away her words and gathered my bag. "I'm off to find a textbook we were recommended for Alchemy class. I'll see you later?"

Before either of them could protest, I was hurrying out of the Great Hall. Distantly, I could hear the pair share concerned grumbles. Briefly, I felt a pang of regret at having to hide this from them, but it was needed. The last thing I needed was to burden them with something so heavy, especially given how likely Morag was to accidentally blurt it all out in a room with other people around.

Finally making it to the library, I made my way through the long room, searching out the Slytherin. I found him without much struggle, as he sat towards the corner of the library, sitting alone at the table with various tomes splayed out around him. Silently, I lingered behind him for a few seconds, taking the opportunity to study him without him noticing. Sometimes, he really did make my heart miss a beat. Had mother been right? Would I have always been drawn to him? Or was this all to do with the binding? Rowena, it was all so confusing.

I forced my feet forward, towards the table. Without a word, I settled into the chair across from Draco who, apart from casting a curious glance upwards, said nothing. He continued to read the passage in front of him until he reached the end of it. Then, Draco straightened up in his seat, leaning back and studying me with a tilted head. I held his gaze steadily.

Uncertain of where to even begin, but knowing I had to say something, I asked, "Do you at least have any idea what type of binding we accidentally conducted?"

Draco raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. "Come on now, Neal. I'm willing to bet my wand hand that you've already looked that up and figured out the answer."

"I have," I admitted, "but I guess I was hoping that I'd gotten it now."

"I'm afraid you haven't Mrs Malfoy." Draco tipped his head back and let out a scoff, "How fucked is it that children - actual children - can be married in an old-fashioned binding?"

"So so fucked." We shared a depreciating smile. "Especially being bound in such an archaic way. I've looked through countless records, Draco, but there are so few records of it being undone. But there are cases of the binding being undone."

"And most of those cases are when one of the people involved has died," he stated knowingly. Draco drummed his fingers gently against the open tome in front of him. "And I don't know about you, but I'm not up for dying."

"Most. Not all." Shooting him a look, I waited for him to protest my words, to come up with some reason that I'd overlooked. But he didn't.

Instead, Draco grasped his satchel. Reaching into it, he pulled out a thick book and held it out to me. Catching sight of the family crest engraved on the front cover of the book, I hesitated to take it. But Draco was insistent. Eventually, I grasped the book with two hands and accepted it; it wasn't often people were offered the chance to read a book from Malfoy Manor's extensive library.

I turned the cover, listening as Draco said, "I've been researching this since fourth year, and found next to nothing. I've already read that book, but you should have a look, and see if there's something I missed."

There was likely no chance that he missed anything, but I didn't say that. He didn't need any more air to be added to his already over-inflated ego. Instead, I settled more comfortably in my chair and started what I knew would be a long read.

I barely made it partway through the first page when Draco spoke again, his voice quiet, "Do I make you nervous, Neal?"

Barely containing a scoff, I glanced up at him from under my lashes. Draco was watching me, arms crossed over his chest. "What the hell are you on about?"

He gestured to my hands, as I fidgeted with my fingers. I was quick to stop it. "Your nervous habit."

"Are you telling me this situation doesn't make you nervous? We're bound, Draco."

"Is it the situation or is it me?" The question was borderline too knowing and smug.

My leg darted out, kicking him on the knee. "Shut up and keep reading. We have work to do."

**********

With the winter holidays finally, here, I needed to visit Malfoy Manor, and I dragged my parents with me. Draco and I had concluded that if anyone would have information on how to undo the mess we'd found ourselves in, it would be our parents who had access to far more resources than we did. Our parents had a wider reach and no doubt at some point during our childhood, they would have figured this mess out. I didn't even want to contemplate why, if our parents did know, they were hoarding the knowledge for themselves. Not that I needed to give it much thought. It was obvious; mine and Draco's match was an advantageous one, one that both our parents would have approved of. But if either of us had our way, it was a match that would be promptly ended.

Even now, as I sat in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor, directly across from Draco with my parents seated on either side of me, I had an inkling of just how reluctant our parents were to end this. I tried to convince myself that it was because they didn't know how my body would react to the bond being ended after almost a decade. Still, as our parents spoke as if we weren't even in the room, my eyes met Draco's waiting ones. His eyes had lingered on me from the moment we'd arrived. There was so much unsaid, right there in those eyes for me to read if I wanted to, but I didn't want to. I was worried about what I'd find.

Eventually, growing tired of listening as our future was discussed without us evening being consulted, Draco pointedly cleared his throat. The adults fell silent, eyes drifting towards Draco who straightened up in his seat. At last, his eyes left mine.

"This entire debate is pointless," Draco said steadily, barrelling on when his father went to protest. "We were children when we forged the match and had no idea what we were doing. How could we possibly have consented to something that we didn't even understand? Am I wrong, Neal?"

"No, you're not wrong," I agreed steadily, casting a glance at all four of the waiting adults before they could think that I was the weak link here, the one they could convince to back down. "How can we be expected to uphold something like this for the rest of our lives?"

A contemplative silence settled in the room and I watched, becoming irritated, as Mr Malfoy and my father shared a look. If they even thought about hiding the solution to all of this from me, then I'd petition the Minister. Rowena's wrath, I wasn't above exposing the dirty laundry of a childhood binding to get my way.

My father met my waiting eyes, reading the stubbornness etched into my features and gave a resigned sigh. I tried not to appear overly satisfied, not yet anyway. "It's not impossible to break a binding," he said at last.

I did my best not to let the knowledge that we'd been right, that our parents really did have the answer to everything, show. Right now, it wasn't important to be right. It was important to listen patiently and get to the bottom of everything. So I cast one more look at Draco, hoping we could share a single moment of joint relief, but he wasn't looking at me. Instead, his eyes were focused on his father as he started to talk.

"In order to break the binding, we need to sever the bond," Mr Malfoy said with a heavy sigh as if the words pained him. "We have to literally cut the bond open, and rip you two away from one another."

"Rip?" Draco repeated the word like it left a foul taste in his mouth. "What do you mean rip?"

"After the ceremony, the pair of you will need to be separated so you can both heal," Mr Malfoy continued steadily.

My eyes darted for Draco again, seeking out whatever reassurance he could give me. But again, his eyes were solely fixated on his father, as if hoping to know what he planned to say before he'd even said it. It was my turn to interject uncertainly. "Heal?"

"The bond will try to reform," Mother explained at my side. She reached for me, squeezing my knee reassuringly as if she wasn't saying something that left my mind racing. "It will try to become whole again, so you'll need to be kept away from one another."

Kept away? I struggled to wrap my mind around the concept of being kept away from Draco. He had, for as long as I could remember, been someone whose side I had been forcefully glued to, someone who had coloured the fondest memories of my childhood. I couldn't even contemplate what being kept away from him would look like.

Draco, clearly not having the same reservations as I did, spoke plainly, as if discussing the weather, "For how long?"

"Up to 8 weeks," came his mother's response. Mrs Malfoy frowned at her son, clearly displeased with whatever she read in his carefully managed expression. "Considering your bond has had almost a decade to strengthen itself, it may take up to 8 weeks of separation to ensure it remains severed."

"Well, we'll have to do it over the summer holidays then, I won't be able to keep from her in the castle." Draco's response was resolute and final. He stood suddenly, towering over us as we remained seated. His eyes scanned the room, pointedly skipping over me as he said, "It's a relief to have this all sorted."

Draco, as if it was so easy for him to have come to that decision all by himself, took his leave without a single glance back. I watched his retreating back for a few moments before I stood, paying no heed to my parents, or to the Malfoys, and followed after Draco. His paces, outrageously large because of his long legs, had me rushing to try and close the space between us.

"Draco!" I called out exasperatedly when the space between us just wasn't closing up.

He stopped abruptly at my voice. Turning expectantly towards me, Draco waited until I came to a stop at his side. When I got there, I hesitated, unsure of what to say, of what I'd wanted to say in the first place. Standing under his waiting eyes, I was lost for words. Some silly part of me wanted to stare into those eyes, to catalogue them as frequently as I could, before I was forced to keep away from him for 8 weeks.

Holding my gaze, Draco's eyes softened. He reached for me then, with hands far more gentle than I'd known them and tucked my hair behind my ear. His touch lingered for a moment too long. "Don't worry about it Neal, I'll make sure you get your freedom."

He left before I could contest his words. Because I wanted to contest them, even if I couldn't be sure if I wanted that freedom to begin with. Merlin, my head was fucked.

**********

Hogwarts felt .. strange. It felt off to be walking through the school grounds as if everything was normal as if each day I hadn't grown even closer to a life-shifting moment. I refused to believe that it didn't feel as homely as it usually did because of the anticipation of this life shift, of what it would mean for my relationship with Draco, whatever relationship we currently had. As far as the Ministry was concerned, we were married by the bonds of old magic and had been since we were children and yet, I didn't think of him like that. I wasn't quite sure what he was to me or what I thought of him as. The only thing I could truly be certain of was that I was drawn to Draco as if there was a string that tightened when I got too far from him, that tugged me insistently back to his side. I could allow myself to admit that now.

I had to admit it because why else would I have retreated to the library where I knew I'd find Draco? My feet, without needing any prompting, made their way towards the table I knew he liked to sit at. Sure enough, Draco sat with his back towards me, his quill moving against the parchment as he worked on something. I lingered for a second, wanting to study him from afar, for just a little longer. Especially when I wasn't sure how he would respond to my approaching him. I hadn't seen him since that fateful meeting at the Manor. From that evening onwards, he avoided me. It was almost like he couldn't wait to be rid of me.

Realising that I was beginning to attract attention, I adjusted the bag on my shoulder and closed the rest of the space between us. Coming to a still beside the table, I cleared my throat. Draco, surprised at being interrupted, glanced up curiously, gaze lingering when he realised it was me. He straightened up in his seat, setting his quill down without a word.

Gesturing towards the empty seat across from him, I asked, "Can I sit down?"

Draco nodded, moving some of the books he had strewn across the table. Clearing the space, Draco settled back into his seat and watched cautiously as I settled down into the free chair. I fidgeted with my bag for a second before remembering that he knew me well enough to pick up on my most minute gestures.

The silence between us lingered for a long moment, with Draco showing no desire to pierce it. He didn't return to his work either. Draco sat, arms crossed and propped onto the table top as he watched me, studying me closely. I couldn't help but think that his eyes were drinking me in as if parched.

"You've been a hard man to find," I said, at last, needing the uncomfortable silence to disappear.

"I've been in the same castle as you," he contested my words. When I arched a silent eyebrow at him, he finally sighed. His arms fell back into his lap as Draco admitted, "I was practising keeping my distance from you. It's been ridiculously hard, but I wanted to have it perfect by the time summer arrives. I don't want anything to mess it up."

"You're that desperate to get rid of me then?" Did the words sound as hurt-laden to his ears as they did to mine?

"I'm not going to let anything I do fuck this up for you, Neal." He glanced away from me as if unable to hold my eyes. "I told you, I'd get you your freedom, didn't I?"

When Draco looked back at me then, his eyes sought mine out, holding them steady. They were expectant, watching me and waiting for a response, but I wasn't sure what response I could give him. Not when my brain was still struggling to understand everything. Not when the deepest part of me, the most hidden part of me, wanted me to be selfish. Because it would be truly, abhorrently selfish to keep Draco bound to me against his wishes. Was that even what I really wanted? Or was that the binding creeping into my thoughts?

Realising that he was still watching me expectantly, I asked, "What are you doing alone? Where are your friends?"

"Where are yours?" he shot back just as easily. Draco picked up the quill, fidgeting with it as he spoke. "Usually one of them is tagging along with you."

It felt like a moment where honesty was needed, and if I couldn't be honest with someone whose magic was bound with mine, then who could I be honest with? "They're probably in the common room. I - for some reason, I wanted to see you."

His hand stopped moving, the quill clattering to the tabletop as he regarded me steadily. "You're very honest, Neal."

"I am."

Draco smiled at my response. I wanted to smile back, to return it, but I couldn't. Not yet. Not when I was too busy cataloguing his smile into my mind; it was rare now to see Draco smiling so freely. Each one needed cherishing.

"Draco, is this part of the bond?" I asked the question that had been on my mind from the very beginning. "The fact that I'm being drawn towards you."

He regarded me with careful silence, his smile dimming as he truly processed what I'd said. Softly, Draco murmured, "I don't know."

"Is it the same? For you?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation. "I'm drawn to you in the same way."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" I asked, searching his features, wanting more than anything to be able to reach into his mind and pluck out the words that he wasn't going to bring to life.

"I wasn't going to force myself onto you, into your life." He shifted in his seat, shattering the moment and clearing his throat. When he looked back at me again, his shoulders were straightened, and all traces of vulnerability were wiped from his features. Draco picked up his quill once more, ready to begin working once more. "Besides, I'm a Malfoy. I don't need to do that."

**********

The school year had flown by, far far quicker than I'd ever wanted it to. And yet, in what felt like the blink of an eye, the summer term had flown by and it was now the final Hogsmeade trip of the year. Rowena, if there was a spell to turn time back, I would have cast it in a heartbeat. And yet, I had to face reality head-on; time was ticking and the ceremony was creeping ever closer. I spent hours on end trying to rationalise it in my mind, to force myself to get used to the idea of keeping my distance from Draco, but it was near impossible. Especially when I struggled to understand what it would mean for the ... emotions I harboured for Draco. These emotions had been my companions for as long as I could remember, just as he had been. How was I supposed to react once he was ripped from my being? What would happen to my emotions?

"Neal," Morag said with an exasperated sigh. She looped her arm through mine, practically dragging me through the entrance of Honeydukes. "Where are you lost now? Normally you're the first one running into here!"

"You know me," I said with a forced smile. I linked my arm through Morag's, keeping her close before she read further into my silence. "My brain's stuck on the exams."

"Boo! Don't be boring." I could practically hear her roll her eyes. "Live a little Neal, it won't kill you."

Without another word, she bounded off into the shop, abandoning me as she took the opportunity to stock up on all of her favourites. I watched her disappear behind a display shelf, my eyes following her until my eyes found Draco, who was walking in the other direction, a basket clutched absentmindedly in his hands. I studied him uncertainly; what was he doing in here? He didn't have any sort of sweet tooth.

Forcing my eyes away from Draco, I walked into the shop and headed straight for the salt water taffy; they were my go-to and my stash was rapidly dwindling. All of these deep contemplations had me eating through the taffy far quicker than I usually did. But, when I reached the display and found it empty, I tried not to roll my eyes; it was just typical. Of course, my favourite sweets would've been sold out. It was just the last thing I needed not to go my way.

Resigning myself to my fate, I sought out Morag, meeting her at the till. Once she'd paid for her shopping - having bought far too many sweets - we made our way to the Three Broomsticks where the rest of our dormmates would be waiting. I made a mental note to warn our friends about the sheer amount of sugar Morag was planning to consume; Morag on a sugar high was not something we could handle without some planning.

Morag, finding the table our dormmates were sitting at, grabbed my hand and drew me after her. We were gestured over hurriedly, with our friends shifting over so we could slide into the booth. It took a little while for my brain to catch up, to make sense of the sheer number of conversations that were going on. Lisa was halfway through complaining about Professor Snape, Mandy was threatening to bring the wrath of Rowena herself down on Kevin, Su was telling us the latest of her sister's escapades and -

"Do you fancy telling me why you've been so silent lately?" Padma, seated at my side, lowered her voice to ask.

Startled at the sudden question, I turned to my friend with surprised eyes. "What?"

"You've been withdrawn, Neal," Padma's words weren't an accusation, they were a matter of fact. "There's clearly something on your mind and you can tell us about it, you know."

"There's nothing going on," I insisted, forcing a smile that I knew she'd see right through. Padma, the self-elected mother of our dorm, always saw right through me. Before she could ask me another question, I cleared my throat pointedly and glanced around the table, "Next round's on me, what's everyone getting."

Orders piled in and I made a mental note of them all. Padma watched me with disapproval but knew better than to push. Instead, she requested a simple "butter beer" and I accepted her response. Standing, I navigated my way to the edge of the booth and headed for the bar. The bartender, busy serving a customer on the other side, nodded to acknowledge that he'd seen me and would be on his way. Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned against the bar, drumming my fingertips against the wooden bar as I waited.

"Neal."

Startled at the sudden call of my surname, had me straightening up. I turned towards the voice, finding Draco standing tall at my side, his head tilted down as he watched me. From this close to him, I could peer up into those incredible eyes for perhaps, one of the last times.

"Malfoy," I returned the greeting, feeling far too proud of myself when his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile.

"Have you heard from your parents?" he asked, facing forward now.

With one hand, he gestured for the bartender who finally approached. I tried not to let myself be irritated that the bartender approached so easily once Draco arrived. Silently, Draco gestured for me to put in my order first and then he did the same.

Once we were left alone, as the barman started to make the multiple drinks, Draco spoke again. "They've set a date for the unbinding."

"I know," I said quietly, wishing it hadn't been true. From the moment the date had been set, my mind had started a mental countdown and each day, as the countdown got closer to 0, I hated the way my stomach twisted. "Mother wrote to me."

He turned to me again, staring intently at the side of my face. But I couldn't bring myself to look at him, to meet his waiting eyes. I was scared that if I did, he'd be able to read the truth in everything I hadn't said; I didn't want to undo it. I didn't want to tear open the bond I had with Draco. But I had to do it regardless, I couldn't be selfish enough to keep me stuck by my side. When it became obvious that I wouldn't match his gaze, Draco sighed and peered forward once more.

My hands sought each other out, picking at my fingers as I asked, "Do you feel ready for it."

"No, not at all." Draco shook his head, sighing again. But, he insisted, "It'll be the right thing for you."

"How presumptuous," I murmured for his ears only, as the barman returned to us, levitating the drinks glasses with him, "to think that you know what's right for me."

Draco didn't say another word. Not when he beat me to pay for the drinks, not when he levitated them to follow after me to the table, and not when he turned to join Zabini and Nott at their own table. My eyes trailed after him for a second longer before I forced myself to follow the drinks.

Making it back to the booth, I slid back in and tried to sound carefree. "The drinks are courtesy of Malfoy."

The chatter around me picked up again, and I tried my best to join one of the conversations but found I couldn't. I was even quieter than I had been when I left the table, a fact I knew Padma picked up on. But she didn't comment on it. Instead, her hand sought mine out under the table, grasping it and squeezing it reassuringly, as if she understood. I wasn't sure what she believed she knew, but it was welcome nonetheless.

Eventually, when we returned to the castle, I made a beeline for our dorm room. I wanted, more than anything, to go to sleep and try and nap all of the problems away, but I couldn't. So I'd have to settle for napping just to give my brain a rest from running so harshly all the time. That had been the plan, but the moment I spied a package of salt water taffy waiting on my bed, I was thrown. Even without a note, I knew who they were from.

**********

Some part of me, despite how long I'd spent contemplating this very situation, refused to believe that it was almost time. I would never admit it, but I'd secretly hoped that out of the blue, there would be some reason that cropped up that meant the ceremony couldn't go ahead because then, I wouldn't have played a part in stopping it. If for some reason outside of my control, the unbinding couldn't go ahead, then that wouldn't be me admitting that I didn't want to do this, it wouldn't be me asking Draco to remain by my side. But nothing cropped up, there was no unforeseen circumstance that would stop the unbinding, and I certainly wouldn't do the selfish thing and ask that he consider undoing it.

In a few short hours, my life would be changed and I'd be ripped away from Draco's side. Before I knew the truth, I'd never considered that part of me was conjoined with someone else, I'd always felt whole. Did that mean that after all of this was over I'd feel like I'd been cleaved open and left in half? I didn't dare think about it.

Unable to sleep, I spent the night tossing and turning in a guest bedroom at Malfoy Manor. Not even the camomile tea I'd requested from the house elves had helped. When the early hours of the morning arrived - so early that everyone was probably still asleep, but late enough that the early summer sun had started to lighten the sky - I left the bed. Putting my feet into my slippers, I made my way down the stairs. I kept my feet light, not wanting to wake a house elf who'd feel the need to serve me.

The Manor, the stillest and silent I'd ever known it, had my steps slowing as I approached the nearest drawing room. I wasn't sure what I intended to do, or what I could even do to keep my mind occupied so it didn't spiral, but I just wanted to do something. Absolutely anything to fight against the urge to run away.

Pushing the door open, I faltered in the doorway at the sight that greeted me. Draco, sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace, had his head bowed as he read through the book that was open in his lap. Was he struggling to sleep too? If he was having even some of the same thoughts as I was, then it made sense.

Not wanting to intrude, but also wanting to spend as much time with him until I no longer could, I wrapped my knuckles gently against the door. Draco's head lifted at the sound, searching out the source. Finding me standing in the doorway, with my hand still hesitantly raised, Draco prepared to stand.

"No, don't," I said quietly as I made my way in. Shutting the door behind me, I insisted, "Please don't stand."

Despite looking like he wanted to protest, he remained where he was. Draco watched as I crossed the space between us with guarded eyes. When I settled a short distance from him, tucking my knees under me, Draco set aside the book he'd been reading. Wordlessly, my eyes sought his out, finding them readily waiting. I'd never wanted so desperately for someone to be able to read my mind as I did at that moment. Except, that wasn't true. I didn't want Draco to know the innermost workings of my mind, not when I was uncertain of how he'd respond to it all.

Clearing my throat and needing to break the silence, I admitted, "I couldn't sleep."

"Neither could I," Draco said, although I didn't need him to put it in words. The heavy set darkened circles under his eyes were proof enough that he'd been struggling to sleep long before tonight.

We settled into another silence. I wondered whether Draco was searching for something to say like I was. Did he also want to fill the space between us, even if just to keep us from discussing what was about to happen? Still, neither of us spoke.

Needing to do something, to make some use of the limited time I had left with him, I forced myself to act. My hand, hesitant but determined, reached out for his. Draco's hand, resting so near me on the floor, was cool to the touch. But, when I put my hand on top of his, he didn't protest. Rather, he stilled, eyes flickering over my features before he moved, turning his hand under mine until he could link his fingers through mine.

He was still watching me, eyes intent. Unable to match his gaze, I looked at our joined hands, trying not to focus on how wonderful my hand looked held so securely by his. If he ever hugged me, would I feel that secure in his arms? I tried and failed to dismiss the thoughts.

"Master Malfoy?" the voice of a house elf shattered the silence, making me draw my hand away abruptly, trying not to think of how cold it felt now. When I turned to face the elf who had averted his eyes from us, I knew Draco's eyes had refused to leave my face, "The ministry official will be here soon."

"Thank you," I said when Draco still said nothing.

The house elf accepted the dismissal and hurried away. Left alone with Draco and the ever-looming end of it all, I stood quickly. Draco remained seated, but he lifted his head, his gaze following me as I stood.

"I should - we should get ready," I managed, turning away from Draco before he could unknowingly tempt me to stay back for longer.

He didn't say a word, not when I hurried out of the room. Even when I'd dressed for the day and made my way to the garden where Draco was waiting, he still said nothing. I stood, at Draco's side, watching as our fathers spoke with the ministry official who frowned and nodded solemnly at whatever he was being told. I looked away from the men, staring instead at the ground that still appeared singed all these years later. The runes were permanently etched into the ground.

A hand on my arm drew me from my thoughts. I turned, not expecting to find my father waiting at my side. He gestured to the singed circle where Draco stood, waiting. Swallowing thickly, I urged my feet forward, approaching the runes. I hesitated on the perimeter, unable to take the final step. It would all be over so soon.

Draco, patient and still silent, held his hand out to me. Slipping my hand into his, I allowed Draco to help me into the circle. I expected him to let go, but he didn't. He held me steady when the runes suddenly burnt bright, locking us into the space and keeping our parents out. Distantly, I heard the ministry official begin reciting a spell.

My eyes, panicked and fearful, lifted towards Draco. He was waiting, offering me a reassuring smile that didn't falter. Not when pain burst through my body as my magic started to react to the unbinding. Clenching my teeth against the whimper that wanted to escape, I forced myself to hold steady through the worst pain I'd ever experienced. It was difficult, borderline impossible to do when my knees threatened to buckle under the strain.

Wordlessly, and with his own gritted teeth, Draco tugged on our joined hand, drawing me against his chest and letting me cling to him. Wrapping my arms tight around him, I used his presence to root me, to keep my mind steady as the pain worsened. It grew more intense with each passing second, building in my chest. Closing my eyes against the pain, I felt tears leak out of the corner of my eyes. It didn't matter, now when the agony bloomed culminating in a final burst of energy that erupted from between the pair of us, sending us sprawling far.

Landing heavily on my knees outside of the rune-marked perimeter, I struggled to catch my breath. My chest shook with exertion with every breath, my heart struggling to beat properly. It felt out of sync like something was missing. A lot was missing now. I was only alone for a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity.

My parents crowded my side, drawing me between them and whispering reassurances. I could hear father's voice insisting that we call for a healer as mother begged me to match my breathing with hers. She sounded terrified like she thought any breath would be my last, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Not when my eyes were fixated on Draco who was kneeling on the floor, just as I was. He collapsed on the other side of the perimeter, but he might as well have been an ocean away. I wanted, nothing more than to go to him. But I couldn't.

Draco drew in greedy lungfuls of air, like he was struggling to breathe, even as our eyes met. He nodded, only once in a silent question and before I could nod back, his eyes rolled shut and he slumped forward into the waiting arms of his mother. My hands, weakened and trembling, hit the floor as I contemplated crawling towards him but it was too late. Everything had disappeared.

**********

My eyes, heavy and unwilling, refused to open when I commanded them to. It felt like it would take too much effort to do it. But, I forced myself to push through the haze that clouded my mind, and my eyes opened. I closed them almost instantly, wincing against the light that assaulted my sense. Blinking slowly, I waited until my eyes acclimatised and turned my head, searching my surroundings. I was home, lying in my bed.

Attempting to dismiss the disappointment that I wasn't still at Malfoy Manor, I pushed myself to sit up. It took more effort than I would've liked to brace my arms against the mattress to aid the motion. But I managed it, nonetheless.

"Oh!" The exclamation made me glance sharply to my left, surprised to find a house elf sitting on a stool as if sitting guarding my bed. Before I could open my parched mouth, the elf hopped off of the stool and reassured me, "Young mistress must wait here. Teeky will call the Master and Mistress."

My throat, neglected after however many days I had been sleeping, was tight and unwilling to form my words without aching. So I didn't try to speak. Instead, I just nodded and offered what I hoped was a thankful smile. I watched Teeky hurry out of my bedroom, closing the door behind her. Left alone, I wondered how long I'd been asleep if I had been asleep because I certainly didn't feel rested. Propping my pillows behind my back, I knew better than to try to get out of bed. My body felt weak, weaker than it had in a long time and I didn't want to push it too far just in case I found myself on enforced bed rest under the healer's orders.

Letting out a long sigh, I tried to keep my mind busy, to stop it from wandering to eyes I already missed, to a faint smile that I'd always tried my best to prompt to -

Forcing myself to stop my train of thought, I absentmindedly raised a hand to my chest, resting over my heart. Rowena help me, I swore it ached. If I couldn't feel it thudding steadily under my palm, if I didn't know better, I would've thought it had been removed, that an aching cavity had been left in its place. But that wasn't the case. I felt like I was missing it, but I was still alive, still breathing.

How long would the insufferable ache last? I rubbed my chest in slow circles, hoping it would do something, anything to ease it. Of course, it didn't. I wasn't sure what would make it better. Would there be anything that helped?

Dropping my hand from my chest, I shifted to my side, reaching for my bedside table where I normally kept my wand. I felt around blindly, waiting for my fingers to curl around the cool wooden handle, but reached smooth paper instead. Frowning mildly, I glanced at the stack of envelopes piled up, waiting for to me read. Grasping them in one hand, I lifted them and set them in my lap. The handwriting, all too familiar, and extraordinarily welcome, was enough to have me pausing. I flicked between each of the envelopes, studying the handwriting that greeted me from each one. If these many letters were waiting for me, all written in Draco's handwriting, how long had he been awake?

A call of my name drew me from my thoughts. I glanced guiltily away from the letter towards the door that my parents pushed open. Their eyes were instantly on me, and then they were rushing so quickly to embrace me, that it took me by surprise. Hesitant in the face of their affection, I tried to wrap my arms around the pair of them as they talked at once, speaking over one another. Mother's hand was patting my hair before they both straightened up. Released from their embrace, I settled back against the pillow and closed my hands over the letters in my lap as if that would keep them hidden. It made no sense; my parents clearly already knew that letters were waiting for me, but I hide them nonetheless as if I wanted to keep them all to myself.

My father, sitting beside me, reached out to put a hand on top of mine. He squeezed it just once, "How are you feeling? Any pain?"

I shook my head, clearing my throat and forcing myself to speak through a throat that felt full of glass, "I'm fine."

I tried not to wince; it was painful to speak. Mother reacted quickly, summoning a glass of water and handing it to me. Emptying it in greedy lungfuls, I cleared my throat again; it was much better.

"I'm fine," I said again, offering my parents what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "No pain."

They accepted my words easily because after all, what reason did they have to not believe me? I had no reason to lie to them about something like this. And it certainly wasn't because I wanted to keep this, this ache to myself. If my parents knew, they might try to get rid of it. But it was proof, proof I needed that at some point, I'd shared something so important with Draco. Father lingered a little longer, hovering around me and not quite knowing what to do before he gathered himself and then he was leaving the room with the declaration that he'd arrange for some food to be put on because I needed my strength. Now left alone with my mother, my eyes fell to my hands, she had always been far more perceptive than my father.

"How long was I unconscious?" I asked, at last.

"A week," Mother answered, frowning slightly when I raised my hand to my chest again, rubbing the same place once more. "Are you sure you're not in pain?"

"Absolutely sure." I offered her another smile, needing her to believe me. From her face alone, I could tell that mother accepted my words with reluctance, not wanting to push me.

I didn't say anything else. Instead, I let myself process the fact that I'd been lost to the world for an entire week. It had taken a week for my body to recover from something so monumental. My eyes flickered to my letters once more, counting them. There were 5 of them, so how long had Draco been -

"He slept for a day," Mother answered my unanswered question, reading me so well I wondered if there was any point in me thinking I could hide anything from her. Still, I didn't look at Mother, unable to hold her gaze. If I did, she'd see the truth there, the shameful truth that somehow, my heart had attached itself to the Malfoy heir and I'd chosen to tear it away from his. "He's stronger than his frame would suggest; it took only a day for his body to overcome the physical effects of the unbinding."

I tried to inject some levity, "I guess that means I'm weak then."

Mother didn't respond to my words. Instead, she suggested, "You should write to him, he's worried about you."

Finally lifting my head, I insisted, "There's nothing to worry about."

Giving me a look that spoke a thousand words, Mother sighed and reached for my hands. Her touch stopped my unconscious fidgeting. "You know that if he could, he would visit you in a heartbeat."

And the strange this was ... I did know that. I knew that if he could have been here, waiting by my bedside for me to wake up, Draco would've been there. But he couldn't be. The bond had been severed and he couldn't come near me.

A gentle tapping on the window had Mother looking away from me with another sigh. I followed her eyes, finding Draco's owl waiting by the window. Mother was quick to let the bird in, accepting the letter and offering the owl a treat, before it disappeared. Carrying the letter with her, Mother added it to the top of the pile. There were 6 in total now; he'd been writing a letter every day.

**********

When Mother told me that we had a guest, I'd hoped despite knowing better - despite knowing that it absolutely could not be - that it was Draco who'd found his way into our drawing room. I knew better than to think it was him, that he wouldn't risk our splintered bond reaching out for each other and joining together once more. But that didn't stop me from hoping that when I made it down to the drawing room, he would be sitting across from my mother, waiting for me. Hope was a dangerous this, it made you all sorts of stupid and illogical things. No, it was more than that, it made you see these nonsensical things, raising your spirits and then bringing you tumbling back to the ground again when you proved wrong. That was exactly what it felt like when I saw Mrs Malfoy being entertained by my mother like I'd been sent crashing right into the ground.

Still, I forced my feet forward, plastering a smile on my face and entered the drawing room. Settling down beside mother, I offered the older witch a greeting which she returned earnestly. Her eyes probing and searching, glanced over me as if trying to find a physical representation of the torn bond. I knew she wouldn't find any; I'd already wasted countless hours looking for a similar sign. But, as I listened to her talk, I held back my words, wanting to ask after her son, to see if he was alright. Draco had responded to my initial letter with record speed, but that had done little to settle my frazzled nerves. I was certain that I'd feel the tense apprehension until I set my eyes on him. Was that the bond at work? Wanting me to rush back to his side so it could stick itself back together again? Or was it something else that made me care for the Slytherin and wanted to make sure that he was alright?

Even still, despite how desperately I wanted to do it, I didn't ask. I kept the question to myself. Not that I needed to.

Mother, as if our minds were connected, asked, "How is Draco recovering, Narcissa?"

Although it had been my mother who asked the question, Mrs Malfoy directed her answer at me, gazing in my direction. "He's doing well."

"I'm glad," I said, at last, the words faint. They were the truth, I was glad that he was doing well. Even if it settled uncomfortably that he might have been doing better than I was, it was so easy for everything to roll off his shoulders. After all, it had taken him a single day to sleep it off.

"He'll be pleased to know you're well too," Mrs Malfoy continued. Her gaze lingered on me meaningfully, as if expecting me to read between her words. I wasn't certain that I could read between them; my body was still too busy recovering that my brain had decided to work at part of its usual capacity.

"I'm sure he's aware that I'm well, I've written to him recently." My hands found each other, clinging to one another. I forced myself not to fidget; it took a lot of mental effort to resist the urge.

"He's a worrier," Mrs Malfoy said with a soft laugh, shaking her head. "He always has been. Draco won't be relieved until he actually sees you."

The words cut through my thoughts. On their own, they were enough to eradicate the urge to fidget. But their meaning was not lost on me. It was the same for him. This immovable unquenchable urge to see him was the same for him. It wasn't just me suffering each day with this ever-present ache. Even if Draco had woken up after one day, it was the same for him.

I held my tongue. I wanted, more than anything, to ask Mrs Malfoy every question that was running hurriedly through my mind. They all focused on her son, on how he was doing, on whether he missed me, on whether -

Still, I said nothing. I couldn't. Instead, I faded to the background, listening as my mother and Mrs Malfoy spoke about something that I didn't care to enquire about. I let it all wash over me; now that I knew it was the same for him, how was I supposed to keep away from him? How was I supposed to force my feet to remain planted firm? But - just because he felt the same urge, it didn't mean that everything else was the same for him. It was a truth I had to accept wholeheartedly.

Mrs Malfoy remained a little longer, before preparing to take her leave. Before she left, Mrs Malfoy reached into her bag and withdrew a cloth-bound book. She held it out for me to take. When I hesitated to accept it, she pressed it insistently into my hands.

"Consider it an early birthday present," Mrs Malfoy said, her words a murmured remark. She offered me another smile before addressing my mother in a louder voice.

I waited until I saw Mrs Malfoy off and then headed straight for my bedroom. Shutting the door behind me, I headed straight for my vanity where a letter was waiting. It bore the Ministry seal and it had arrived mere moments before Mrs Malfoy had. I hadn't had the chance to open it but now, I struggled to bring myself to pierce the seal. But I did.

With shaking hands, I removed the letter and read over it with quick eyes. I read it twice to make sure I hadn't missed anything. It was over. The ministry could confirm that the bond had been successfully broken, but I was cautioned not to seek Draco out, lest the bond reform. I still had weeks left to go. Until then, I had to live in the words he wrote by hand, and accept my regret. That was all I could do.

Putting the letter aside, I turned my attention back to Mrs Malfoy's book. A place marker already stuck out from the top. Opening the book at the separation, I skimmed over the first passage. It snagged my attention in a heartbeat; it was about the bond. It was longwinded in the way it communicated its message, but it was there, nonetheless.

The bond couldn't create fondness, or anything more. It could only cement what was already there.

**********

Whenever I thought about the first day of my seventh year, I'd always anticipated some excitement at the beginning of my final year at school. I'd always expected that anticipation to be mingled with a strange sense of sadness that I was so close to saying goodbye to Hogwarts. But, in all the times I'd thought about today, I hadn't thought that Hogwarts would be the last thing on my mind. I'd expected to spend the entire train journey giddy and excited to go home, to see my friends again, but there was only one thing on my mind. Or rather, one person.

Even as I stood on the crowded platform, listening to my parents as they said their goodbyes to me, I was searching the platform, trying to find that white-blond hair that stuck out from over a mile away. It was nowhere to be seen. The longer I went without seeing Draco, the more anxiety bloomed in the pit of my stomach.

All of the waiting had finally come to an end. I'd gone through the weeks of avoiding Draco, of not giving into the cloying urge to take a quick floo trip to see him. It had been the hardest thing I'd ever done, but I'd silently counted down each day to today, to the day I could see him again. Only to find no sign of him. I couldn't let another day go by without Draco, not after this long. I refused.

Drawn into a tight embrace, I forced the thoughts to the back of my mind and focused on my parents. In the last few weeks I could have easily gone insane, but they kept me steady. Hugging my mother tight, and then hugging my father as well, I promised to write to them at every opportunity. The whistle blew behind me and they followed me onto the train. Father extended a hand to me, helping me up and then I turned, waving at them both. I lingered a little longer, searing their image into my brain for when I missed them, I turned and headed into the train.

I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that my friends would have congregated in a single carriage, hogging it for us and were probably waiting for my appearance. Not that I could blame them, there was always so much to catch up on. As I walked through the train, I peered into each carriage, searching them. I didn't bother to tell myself that I was searching for my dormmates, that I was listening out for Morag's excitable chatter, I was too far gone for that. The honest truth was that I searched each carriage for Draco and his friends, and listened out eagerly for his voice. Each moment without setting my eyes on him was torture. I wasn't sure how much longer I could go without seeing him before I gave up and behaved in an incredibly Gryffindor manner and created a scene; shouting his name and demanding he come and find me.

Disappointed that I had yet to find Draco, I continued to the next carriage. My fist raised, ready to knock on the door to announce my presence when the action became futile. My eyes, greedy and parched and wondering all at once, locked onto Draco who emerged from a carriage. I drank in his image, the sight of him a much-needed balm to the ravenous ache inside me, as he headed to the next carriage. Silently, I watched as he knocked on the door, peered in, frowned and then moved on to the next. I wanted to take my fill of him before I approached him, just in case this didn't go how I wanted it to. But I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I would probably never get my fix.

It didn't matter, it was too late. He'd spied me.

The moment those glorious eyes locked onto me, pure unadulterated relief flowed through my veins, reaching every muscle, and relieving them of weeks worth of aches. The tight coil of tension that had taken up permanent residence in my stomach eased for the first time since I'd woken up all those weeks ago. Draco stood stock still, his features open for whoever wanted to pay attention. And I was, wholeheartedly paying attention as relief filtered through every feature, the tension easing from his shoulders. He let out a long breath. Still, he didn't approach me.

I contemplated crossing the space between us and I would have done it without a second thought if a pointed throat hadn't been cleared behind me, shattering that atmosphere me. Embarrassed, and yet unable to bring myself to care, I stepped to the side and let whoever was standing behind me pass. I waited for the second year to move around me before I turned back to face Draco. In those few short moments he'd easily crossed the space between us, now standing so close I could touch him. Righteous Rowena, I wanted to touch him. I wanted, desperately, so so desperately, to reach out and grab his hand in mine and take triumph in that contact. It was the reward for weeks worth of patience.

The opportunity was right there, and yet I couldn't take it. Draco didn't share my hesitation. To my immense surprise, he reached out, grasping me gently by the shoulders and tugging me into his chest. The last time he'd held me like this, I'd used him to grapple against the pain from the unbinding ceremony, but now, with no pain in sight, I could tuck myself securely under his chin and embrace him. My wraps wrapped around him, clasping at his back and I breathed in deeply. At last, the ache in my chest abated. I was whole again.

Before he could draw away and before I could talk myself out of it, I admitted, "I missed you Draco."

"I missed you too," he returned without pause, "I don't ever want to be away from you again."

He stopped still as if realising what he'd said. I felt Draco's arms draw away from me as he held me hesitantly at arm's length. I hoped he didn't go further, I didn't want him to go any further. Thankfully he didn't. He appeared content to remain a short distance from me, his hands still grasping my arms softly.

I held his earnest gaze, letting myself read everything he'd stopped himself from saying. Forcing myself to be brave, I murmured, "Draco, please."

Draco needed nothing more. His hands slide up my arms, and my neck, threading through my hair and holding me steady as he lowered his head towards mine. I rose to my toes, meeting him partway. His lips slanted easily over mine, and I swore he breathed out a sigh of relief against my lips. I returned his kiss easily, reaching for him, holding him to me by the robes. He drew back from me briefly, his eyes flickering to mine. Draco flashed me a smile, a heartstopping, warmth-inducing smile, and then he was leaning down towards me again.

We were putting on a very Gryffindor-esque scene, I was aware of that, but I didn't care. It didn't matter, not after the torture of being kept away from him. Regardless of the consequences, I'd suffer them all, as long as I got to keep him right here, with me.

**********

5 YEARS LATER

I wasn't sure I'd ever seen this many people on the grounds of the Manor. And yet, as I stood a short distance from the guests, I could hear them chattering amongst themselves. I was sure that somewhere, Draco was amongst them, probably thanking everyone for taking their time to attend. Letting out a deep breath, I tried to steady the quiet nerves that had made their home in my belly last night. I wasn't sure why I was nervous, this was hardly something new. Except it sort of was. This time I understood it all, I knew what I was going into doing, and what it all entailed and I was still choosing to do it. I was choosing him.

"Would you stop doing that?" Padma's exasperated question cut through my thoughts. She grasped both of my hands and pushed them steadily to my side, "Don't you remember how long it took to do those nails? Why are you picking at them?"

"Shove off, Patil," Morag shot back, rolling her eyes. She fidgeted with my dress robes, aligning the hem in just the right way before she was satisfied. "She's allowed to be nervous. Rowena knows I would be nervous if I was being forced into an old-fashioned magic binding. What's wrong with a normal wedding?"

"I'm not being forced into anything," I said steadily, for what must've been the hundredth time since Morag had found out what sort of ceremony Draco and I had decided to go for.

"Of course you are," Morag said, impetuous as always. "Old blood like the Malfoys must have pressured you into it. Just give me the sign and I'll have you whisked out of here, Neal. We'll throw Padma at the goons he calls his groomsmen and I'm sure Su, Lisa and Mandy will help keep them at bay."

"A binding just felt like the right choice."

Any time for future elaboration disappeared as my father appeared before us, telling us that it was time. All at once, my bridesmaids snapped to action, checking me over for the final time. Padma stepped close enough to drape the veil over my head. Finally satisfied, she reached for my hand and squeezed it tight, just once, before taking her spot at Morag's side. I took in a deep steadying breath, glancing at my father who offered me his arm. Linking mine through his, I clung to him for support. As if able to sense my hidden nerves, he put his free hand briefly over the hand I used to cling to his arm.

Padma and Morag set off before us, walking slowly through the grounds. I watched, eyes locked onto their retreating back as they made their way through the makeshift aisle and towards the rune-marked circle. On either side of the aisle, the guests sat; righteous Rowena, there were a lot of them.

"Are you ready?" father asked just before it was our turn to follow.

Not trusting my voice, I just nodded. Together, we made our way towards the altar where Draco was waiting for me, already standing in the middle of the circle. He was handsome, had always been handsome and yet, the sight of him still took my breath away. In a short time, he would be my husband. (Again.) And I wanted nothing more than to rush to his side. But I forced my feet to walk slowly toward him if only so I wasn't teased by his groomsmen, Blaise and Theo, who stood outside of the circle, parallel to where my bridesmaids stood. I kept my eyes locked on Draco, knowing I was smiling deliriously under my veil, but I didn't care. I didn't care that there were so many eyes on me, or that our guests were likely watching me the entire time, I just wanted to reach his side.

Thankfully it didn't take too long. When we reached the end of the aisle, Draco appeared before me, his hand extended towards me. He exchanged words with father, words I didn't quite process, not when my eyes were so focused on him. Our mothers had insisted we not see each other the week before the wedding and had kept us under close watch to ensure we followed through. Now that he was so close, my greedy eyes drank him in. Finally, I took his hand, letting him help me over the perimeter and into the circle. Just as they had all those years ago, they burned bright once we were securely inside. Draco released my hand briefly, lifting the veil from my face and now, without any partition in place, I smiled up at the face that had occupied my dreams.

Eyes softening, Draco smiled faintly and reached for both of my hands and held them steady in his. The ministry official standing outside the border started to conduct the ceremony. Draco had wanted us both to conduct the ceremony ourselves, just like we had the first time, but our fathers were quick to insist that we did things properly this time around. Perhaps they'd been right, having the ministry official here made sure everything was up to scratch, but more importantly, it let us focus on the moment, on each other.

When asked if we consented to the binding, Draco spoke first and I followed his lead. Satisfied, the official started his recitation and Draco lifted my hands to his mouth, kissing my knuckles briefly. The guests murmured approvingly, but I was certain the ministry official had sighed exasperatedly. Not that I could blame him. He was the official that had unbound us and now here he was, binding us together once more.

It didn't matter how we'd got here, all that mattered was that this was right. Our dormant bond was awakened and forged together once more. Our magic fused and it felt right. It felt right and I felt strong. Squeezing his hands softly, I hoped Draco felt it too. From his gaze alone I was certain he could.

With the binding finally completed, Draco didn't hesitate. He released my hands, with his finding purchase at the back of my neck as he ducked his head down to kiss me. Tilting my head up towards his, I returned it all too willingly. We were whole again.

____________________

Well, let me know what you thought

As mentioned in the last chapter, I'm going to post the first update of volume 2 shortly (like within the, so be sure to keep an eye out for it ~