Chapter Text
Harry Potter was absolutely, one hundred percent sure that Draco Malfoy had done this on purpose.
There was no proof. No witnesses. No logical explanation.
But Harry knew.
He was standing in the middle of a disused classroom on the fourth floor, wrist glowing faintly gold, heart pounding, and Draco Malfoy was standing six feet away with the exact same glow wrapped around his own wrist.
“Don’t look at me like that, Potter,” Draco snapped. “I didn’t plan to be magically handcuffed to you for the foreseeable future.”
Harry raised his arm. A thin ribbon of shimmering light connected his wrist to Draco’s, stretching between them like a tether.
“Then why were you the one messing with the spell?” Harry demanded.
Draco scoffed. “Because, unlike you, I actually read the instructions.”
Hermione’s voice echoed in Harry’s head: Do not attempt advanced magical theory without supervision.
They probably should have listened.
It had been Hermione’s idea to study in the abandoned classroom.
“Fewer people,” she’d said. “Less noise. Less chance of Ron setting something on fire.”
Harry had just been relieved not to be in the library.
Draco had been there too, to everyone’s mutual annoyance.
“Malfoy, what are you doing here?” Ron had demanded.
Draco had sniffed. “Trying to graduate. You should consider it sometime.”
They’d ignored each other for an entire hour.
Which, in hindsight, was suspicious.
Then Hermione had found the book.
Magical Bonds and Their Practical Applications.
Harry should have known that was a bad title.
Draco had leaned over from the other side of the table. “That’s not for amateurs, Granger.”
Hermione bristled. “I’m not an amateur.”
“You exploded a teacup last week.”
“It was an accident.”
Draco smirked. “Sure it was.”
Harry had rolled his eyes. “Can you two not flirt over dangerous magic?”
They both glared at him.
And then, somehow, all three of them had been standing around the book while Hermione muttered the incantation and Draco corrected her pronunciation and Harry said, “This feels like a terrible idea.”
The room had flashed gold.
Hermione and Ron had been thrown backward.
Harry and Draco had been thrown together.
Now here they were.
Madam Pomfrey did not look impressed.
“A magical tether,” she said briskly, waving her wand over the glowing connection. “Advanced. Very advanced.”
“Can you fix it?” Harry asked.
She pursed her lips. “Eventually.”
Draco stiffened. “Eventually?”
“These things take time,” she said. “The spell formed a bond based on proximity, emotional charge, and magical compatibility.”
Harry stared at her. “It did what?”
Draco looked horrified. “I am not magically compatible with him.”
Madam Pomfrey gave them both a sharp look. “Magic doesn’t lie, Mr. Malfoy.”
Harry snorted.
Draco scowled.
“Until we can safely undo it,” she continued, “you’ll need to stay within a certain distance of each other. If you move too far apart, the tether will pull you back.”
“Pull?” Harry repeated.
Draco took a cautious step backward.
Harry didn’t even have time to warn him before the glowing ribbon snapped tight and yanked Draco forward.
Draco crashed straight into Harry.
They both hit the floor.
There was a stunned silence.
Ron choked on a laugh.
Hermione slapped a hand over her mouth.
Draco shoved himself up, face red. “I am going to hex you.”
“You walked away from me,” Harry shot back.
Madam Pomfrey clapped her hands. “Enough. You’re dismissed. Together.”
Walking through Hogwarts tethered to your former enemy was not something Harry had ever imagined adding to his list of life experiences.
Students stared.
Whispers followed them.
Pansy Parkinson openly laughed.
“Careful, Draco,” she called. “Wouldn’t want Potter to trip you.”
Harry muttered, “I will trip you.”
Draco muttered back, “Touch me and I swear—”
They turned a corner too sharply and smacked into each other again.
This time, someone clapped.
Harry wanted to vanish.
They ended up in an empty alcove near the Grand Staircase, both breathing a little too hard.
“This is temporary,” Draco said sharply. “We are not becoming friends.”
“Good,” Harry replied. “I don’t want to be friends with you.”
“Perfect.”
They stood there, tether glowing softly between them.
Draco crossed his arms. “We need rules.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “You’re already bossy.”
“Rule one: Don’t touch me unless absolutely necessary.”
Harry snorted. “Trust me, Malfoy, that goes both ways.”
“Rule two: We don’t talk about this to anyone unless we have to.”
Harry glanced at the glowing magic between them. “Bit late for that.”
“Rule three,” Draco continued, “this doesn’t mean anything.”
Harry’s stomach did something stupid.
“Of course it doesn’t,” he said.
They both looked away at the same time.
The real problem came at bedtime.
McGonagall took one look at them and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“There are not enough years left in my career for this,” she muttered.
They were given a small, unused dormitory near the hospital wing. Two beds. One glowing tether.
Harry sat on one bed.
Draco sat on the other.
The magic stretched between them, humming softly.
“This is a nightmare,” Draco said.
Harry stared at the ceiling. “You’re telling me.”
The lights dimmed.
Neither of them slept.
At some point in the night, Harry shifted.
Draco shifted too.
Their hands brushed.
They both froze.
The tether glowed brighter, warmer, like it approved.
Harry swallowed.
Draco pulled his hand back like he’d been burned.
“This is not happening,” Draco muttered.
Harry stared into the dark. “Good. Because I don’t think I’m ready for whatever this is.”
Silence settled between them.
But the magic didn’t fade.