Chapter Text
Draco Malfoy was arrogant, rude, snarky, and as spoiled as they came, he was the Heir to the massive Malfoy fortune and name, which made him one of the most envied people in Magical Europe since birth. He was mean for no reason, terribly impolite to almost everyone Harry cared about. 'The Slytherin Prince', More like the universal arsehole, if you ask him. At least this was all information Harry gathered in his three years of being at Hogwarts.
Now this, all this, was going over his head. Part Veela? Soulmate? Harry had enough on his mind with this new information about 'Sirius Black- his Godfather ' already, and now he was in the Headmaster's office, holding hands with Draco Malfoy of all people, waiting for the said boy's parents to arrive. Was hoping for one moderately normal year at Hogwarts too much to ask for?
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Harry Potter.
Harry bloody Potter of all people in the world.
Draco knew that one day he'd meet his soulmate, it was his favourite thing to think about instead of following his mother's unreasonable demands and sleeping on time when he was a child. He had so many different meetings planned out.
They'd meet on the Malfoy private gardens in Paris when they're open for the public once a year and make flower crowns as promises to each other.
They'd be in the middle of an important mission to save the world when their magic would bond and with that commitment in mind, they'd defeat the awful Mudblood trying to steal wizarding children and be applauded together.
These were the particularly wild fantasies that kept him giggling in bed. As he grew up, this changed too, he wanted to meet them at King's Cross, at Hogwarts, in the Diagon Alley, in their estate in Germany, at the marriage of one of his relatives.
Father had told him he'd only realised mother was his soulmate when he was eighteen and she was nineteen, an intern at the ministry's Wizarding Tradition's department. He said he just knew when he saw her, and so had mother, despite not being part Veela. Their bond required them to stay in proximity for around three months, before establishing completely and becoming stable.
It was a factor of pride for both the Malfoy and Black families, most Veela's recognize their Soulmates only after the age of twenty to twenty-five. The establishment of a mating bond only depends on the magic of the two people involved. So the stronger their core, the easier it is for the magic to reach out and connect. Once it's completely in sync, it causes many changes, it is supposed to complete them both.
Someone who'd stay with you for life, understand you and complete you in every way, love you unconditionally, that was what soulmates were. It was a fantasy to most people, but to some families like the Malfoy's, it was the gift magic gave them.
There's no way Harry Potter was a gift , surely.
He was supposed to have around a decade more before finding his soulmate, it wasn't supposed to be like this.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
He'd be lying if he said he didn't expect this.
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There were rumours going around on the first day of school itself, 'Harry Potter had supposedly fainted after seeing some dementors. What a poor excuse of a wizard!
"You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted!" he laughed when he saw the other boy sitting on the Gryffindor table with the Weasel and the Mudblood. He would've stopped there, going back to joking with friends and discussing their summers and the courses they picked for the Third Year. But there was a tug in his stomach, wanting to know more, it was probably the urge to humiliate him further.
He dismissed it and continued enjoying the feast, as inadequate as it was.
.
Around three months into the school year, he started getting frequent stomach aches, Madam Pomfrey said it was probably the stress of additional classes.
.
Five months in, his magic started behaving wildly, he recieved more glares from Uncle Sev than he'd like, for blowing up a potion every week or two.
He became more irritable, ruder than usual, skipped more meals than was acceptable, handed in papers that the usual him would cry over. Weirdly enough, his magic only seemed to calm down when he was in classes Slytherin shared with the Gryffindors.
.
It was only in the last quarter he realised all the signs, when one day his magic reached out to touch Harry Potter's. It happened unconsciously, and when he realised what he was doing, horrified, he reigned it back in. Looking up at the said boy, he only saw a confused expression and almost banged his head on the table.
Of course, the stupid scarhead wouldn't even realise how improper, how intimate the gesture was. For him to do it unconsciously, to see no threat, no danger, it all pointed to just one thing. He could only swallow and rush out as soon as they were dismissed for the day.
.
Then comes a day when he's just sitting and enjoying his favourite dessert after a particularly bad evening, when his magic went all haywire, everything feels so, so wrong. Following his instincts, he barged into the Hospital wing, finding Weasely on the bed and Potter standing there with a solemn look.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" the Mudblood sneered and he gulped, he didn't exactly have a reason for running all the way here, he just knew his bond was asking him to comfort, to make it better, for the wrongness to go away. Ah, today was that beasts execution date, he remembered, the one Potter is weirdly attached to. Judging the time, it must've been put down already. He didn't ask for this, but it was inevitable, with his father personally overseeing the incident, there was no chance for the Hippogriff to make it. And it was a dangerous creature to bring near children, but Draco didn't want it to die.
"I... " he started, only for the words to stop. Malfoys never apologise, it' was something taught to him since he could walk. But father apologises to mother all the time, he thought. For arriving home late, for skipping meals, for ordering the wrong flowers for a party, for forgetting to send his aunt a gift on his mother's behalf. And, if Potter is who he thinks he is, then him doing so is probably alright too. Even if he hates the other, the explanation does it easier.
Yes.
He just wants this weird sadness to go away.
"Well?"
"I didn't mean for the beast to be executed. My father was the one handling the case, and the decision was made by the board members. Still, I- I apologize," he said with a straight face, keeping perfect composure to hide his unease. It might sound insincere, but it was something.
"....."
He remembered Mudblood opening her mouth to say something, but the pressure in his chest became too much and like a puppet without strings to hold it up, he collapses. Ah, so it's time for the bond to settle.
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When he woke up, it was still dark, but he believed it was time for the sunrise any minute. He finds himself lying in the infirmary bed, which had become a regular enough occurrence through the year that he didn't immediately question it. It was only when he noticed someone sitting by his bed holding his hand did he almost stop breathing.
Potter.
Right. Last night. Pain. The beast. Mudblood and Weasely. He fainted.
For the first time in months, he was feeling no discomfort, excess irritation or weird tightness in his chest. It was calm. His magic was settled. This was the only reason he stayed put in bed for a few minutes before withdrawing his hand from the sleeping boys grasp. He wasn't some maiden whose husband needed to sit by her hospital bed after an accident. The thought alone made him flush.
"Malfoy...?" Potter rubbed his sleep lidden eyes as he slowly woke, hair messier than ever. "MALFOY!" he yelled the next second, seemingly fully awake. Draco could only groan at the loud volume.
The next minute both Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore enter the wing.
Her face is pinched when she said, "I should have put it together, your soulbond is causing both of you distress." Madam Pomfrey tutted as she started casting what seemed like a million diagnostic spells.
"It's certainly not your fault, Poppy," Dumbledore replied, expression serene and calm, "Bonds rarely ever form before the age of eighteen."
"Sir, what bonds are we talking about here? Did someone hex Malfoy?"
Before any of the two adults got around to answering him, Snape and McGonagall barge into the room. "The Malfoys have been notified, they'll be arriving soon," his godfather announced before coming to stand beside his bed directly. Draco could see the worry in his eyes as he silently checked him over, he swallowed uselessly and closed his eyes, before sitting up. He refused to lie in bed for when his parents arrive.
Assumingly sensing his thoughts, McGonagall transfigured a bed into a sofa, where he and Potter were asked to sit down.
While they wait, hundreds of thoughts ran through his mind. He wasn't a snot-nosed child anymore. Now that he has gotten around to acknowledging that all this was- real, he was also able to think of the problems that would come with it.
First of all, the Public cannot know, as is the rule in their families, until the bond is established, it can't be announced for protection purposes. It works most of the time, but they're in school. In different houses, they can't always stay close. Not that he'd want to be close to Saint Potter, but it's the only thing keeping the pain way. It was perhaps a blessing that it was the end of the year, after finishing the exams they'd have some time out.
Next, Harry Potter might be the boy who lived, but he wasn't a Pureblood. He didn't know if this will cause complications, but keeping the family line pure had always been stressed to him as something important. Maybe his reputation and father's side of the family will make up for the bad blood, they were a part of the sacred families after all.
Third, the most important thing. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy don't like each other, they've been enemies since the first day of school. They hate each other's friends, houses, personalities. How can they be expected to ever work out? Not all soulmates are romantic, but all of them are close . Be it a relationship, friendship, brotherhood, parental feelings. He can't imagine getting along with Potter. Ever.
In his silent monologue, he didn't even notice when his hand reached out to hold the other boys, he only snapped out of his thoughts when he heard very familiar footsteps entering the room. His parents were here. It was a little easier to breathe. He could feel Potter tensing up next to him, he recalled his father didn't have the best relationship with him, with the cursed diary and house-elf back in the second year, but he supposed that would work out if it's supposed to as well.