Everlasting Bond

Chapter 19

TW: Depression, a ton of cursing

From the moment Harry arrived, he could tell something was up with his boyfriend. It wasn't just living in the house - it was something else bothering Draco, and Harry wanted to find out what it was.

Harry was tempted to just demand answers, but Draco never responded well to that. (To be fair, no one really responds well to that.)

Harry was obviously concerned, of course, but he was wrapped up in everything else, too. Reuniting with Hermione and Ron, and obviously Draco. So many things had changed, though. Sirius was dead, Fred and George were living in Diagon Alley, Percy was Merlin-knows-where, and at this point, Harry was too afraid to ask.

Oh, and her. Fleur Delacour. Ron was completely head-over-heels, but Draco also acted super strange around her.

Harry just wished he knew what was going on for once in his life. Was that too much to ask?

***

Draco's summer couldn't be going worse. Bellatrix's message taunted him and followed him around constantly. He could tell Harry was worried, and he had all right to be. Draco had been neglecting him this summer, and he felt guilty, but at the same time, he had other issues to deal with.

Namely, the depression that had hit him in the face with a brick. Oh, and the other part-Veela walking around the house.

Currently, he was sitting in his "room" and staring at the wall, dully. The air around him was cottony and thick, and all he could hear was buzzing. Alessia was trying to talk to him, maybe, but all he could hear was the faint drone of static.

Draco. Draco, please.

He continued staring at the wall. It was a dull gray, with peeling paint. Entire sections of paint had come off and hadn't been repainted; no, instead, someone had taped it back up to make it look even worse than it was.

What could he do to fight Dumbledore? To kill him? It was impossible. Draco knew, somewhere, in the back of his mind, that this wasn't logical. Maybe it was Alessia trying to convince him of that. The logical option would be to go talk to Harry, tell him what Bellatrix had told him to do. Because the truth was, Draco missed home, missed his family. So much it hurt. He was better off dead.

Draco moved his gaze to the dusty floor.

Draco you're not listening to me, you need to listen to me, Alessia was insisting, cutting through the fog in his mind. You can't just sit here all summer, Draco--

Watch me, Draco thought grimly, his eyes tracing the pattern of the floorboards. What's the point of moving? I'm going to die anyway. What do you think about Bellatrix's message? You haven't said a word, you've been too busy obsessing over that fucking girl.

A suspicious silence, then, Draco, Fleur would take you more seriously if you told her you were a Veela, she'd understand, Draco listen to me--

Alessia was frantic at this point. Draco stood up. She was right, to some degree. However, not now. There's something he'd been neglecting for a while now.

Draco stood and opened the door, and it felt like all the static in the air and cotton in his ears was blown out by the fresh(er) air. Instantly he could hear the sounds from all over the house, and he reluctantly let a smile creep over his face.

Descending down at the stairs, he hovered outside of the Golden Trio's room. They all shared a room, and Draco always felt weird intruding on... whatever they had. He was an extra fourth person they didn't need.

But he was-- no, he wasn't a Malfoy, but goddamnit he was a Slytherin and he wasn't going to backtrack now.

He knocked shakily on the door. Harry opened, and Draco was relieved to see that there was nobody behind him. They were alone.

"Hey, Harry," Draco said, stepping into the room and sitting on the closest bed. Harry mirrored him. "So, can I discuss something with you? I've been avoiding you, and I want to catch you up on some of the possible reasons why, though I'm not entirely sure myself."

A deep breath. White lies, small ones. Alessia was quiet.

"First, there are too many people around," Draco said wryly. "I'm not quite used to that. Second, surely you've noticed Fleur by now, you've been here for several days. She's... uh. She's Veela, which I think you've also noticed -- all the men in the house are completely head-over-heels. Look at Ron. I'm not entranced, you're not entranced, but we're already in a relationship."

Draco looked up at Harry and met those eyes, those green eyes that Draco loved so much. He was listening, which was all Draco could ask for.

"However, not-entranced as I may be, Veela naturally flock together. Being a good part bird, actually, it's quite literally 'birds of a feather flock together.' If I were a full Veela, that's all I would look for. But I'm not; I'm half."

"So... you just really want to be her friend?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

Draco flushed. "Well, when you put it that way, it sounds stupid," he muttered. "Nevermind, I can do this by myself."

Harry caught his hand as he stood up. "No no no no, sit back down." He pulled, and Draco took a seat beside him. Draco was wary, far more wary than he had right to be. The talk with Bellatrix had unsettled him, for sure, but now he was looking for betrayal in everyone, an unhealthy mechanism.

"Yes?" Draco said.

Harry forced eye contact with him for several seconds, and then leaned in and kissed him.

Harry's lips were slightly chapped. That was the first thing Draco noticed. The kiss wasn't demanding, wasn't deep or passionate. No, it was a hello kiss, a soft one, a one to comfort him.

Draco pulled back first but offered Harry a smile. "Thank you." He wanted to hug Harry, so bad, but his own instincts held him back.

Luckily, Harry did it for him, reaching out and pulling Draco into a hug. Draco's head fell into that little dip between the shoulders and the neck. It was warm and nice, and Draco found himself trying to push closer.

"You should just talk to her, explain your issue," Harry murmured into his ear. "It won't be that hard, you're a Slytherin and a M-- Black, you're fine."

Draco smiled again. He hadn't smiled in a while. "Yeah, okay."

Softly, in his head, he chanted the same phrase over and over. Was it Alessia saying it? Was it him? It didn't matter, at this point. Maybe they were the same person.

I love you I love you I love you.

NOTES:

Whoop-de-do, obviously I am setting up for some serious shit going down! It has been ages since I updated, so this Author's Note is probably going to be super long.

Okay, so first, please just pretend like everything happened. Sirius died, Luna exists, I didn't fuck up the timelines, Umbridge is the worst, etc. I'm going to be doing my best to stick to a vague outline of the stories now, instead of taking canon and chucking it off a cliff. 

Also, if you want more story content instead of waiting every five months, go check out my AO3, @20ProudSlytherin05. And my Tumblr, @cs68127. 

I will try to update more consistently now, I promise! Every weekend, or at least every other one. But I also have to update separate things on Monday, Friday, and work on my original story on Wednesday. So I'm going to be running my inspiration dry, and here's to nothing.

*blows kisses* I love you all, you're all valid, and here's to many more chapters to come (hopefully).