Bonded (a drarry story)

Chapter 13

The next few weeks, things started to worsen.

The peace draught wore off fairly quickly, and the uncomfortableness came back ferociously. Harry and Draco would be walking side by side, far enough apart that they weren't touching, and they ached almost as bad as when they were extremely far apart. They were becoming so exhausted and drained, they started only going to classes a couple days a week, and just staying in their beds the other days. Again, they were starting to lose all hope. There had been absolutely no word from Dumbledore about a cure or counter-curse. In fact, no one had even seen him in weeks. No other teachers seemed all that interested in curing them either, apparently, as they hadn't heard anything from them either, but as least they were letting them skip class.

It was a Thursday, and Draco and Harry had decided to not go to class. They had gone Monday and Wednesday and that had been enough. Harry had woken up dizzy and nauseous, and Draco had awoken with a severe headache. No matter how many spells they cast or how much medicine they took, nothing helped with the pain. They had even asked Slughorn to make them another peace draught, but even that seemed to do nothing.

Their schedule had become wake up, feel faint and sickly, be in pain all day, sleep a restless sleep, and repeat. Every day. And it was becoming unbearable.

That Thursday morning, the boys were sprawled on the couch, their breakfast lying cold and untouched on the table in front of them. They had gotten up a few hours prior, but decided to skip class, and both were unable to fall back asleep, so they lay wordlessly on the couch.

They were laying close to each other, but they were a couple inches apart, not actually touching. However, after a few hours of laying silently on the couches, Draco spoke up.

"Potter?" Draco asked, lying on his back, with his feet propped up on the table, staring up at the ceiling.

"Yeah?" Harry replied, turning to look at him. He saw Draco close his eyes, but Draco didn't respond to him. "Draco?"

After a moments pause, "don't get mad at me, okay?"

"Draco, what are you talking about? You're starting to scare m-" Harry didn't get to finish his sentence because at that moment, he felt Draco's hand slide down his leg and come to rest on his right thigh.

Harry let out a shaky breath. "D-Draco?" What are you d-doing?"

Harry felt Draco inch closer to him, and the grip on his leg tighten. Draco, eyes still closed and head facing towards the ceiling, hesitantly said, "look, Potter, we can't keep doing this to ourselves."

"W-what?"

"This!" Draco said, sitting up gesturing aimlessly, and getting angry. "What we've been doing! We've been making ourselves sick."

"I don't understand," Harry said cautiously, looking at Draco with concern and a little bit of disappointment. In his sitting up, Draco had removed his hand from Harry's leg, and as weird as it was, Harry was disappointed it was gone.

"Ugh," Draco groaned. "Look, we've been trying to stay as far apart from each other as possible. When we walk in the hallways, we're a couple feet apart. When we sit on the couch, we sit on opposite ends, like we were just a minute ago. When we're in class, we scoot to the ends of the desk. We're really trying not to touch each other, which I get, cause obviously I've been doing it too. I despise having to be close to you. It's disgusting and repulsive and just outright wrong. But I have to do it. Potter, we have to do it, don't you get it?!" Draco was now standing up and pacing back and forth in front of the couch, wringing his hands through his hair. "Being apart is killing us. Literally. Those sparks we felt when we touched each other, after we first got cursed? We need them! And I know we never talked about them, but I know you felt them, Potter. And they were good, because they helped us not feel sick. But I haven't felt them in weeks, and I know you haven't either. Because we both feel like shit! I knew this curse would be hard, but Potter we're only making it harder on ourselves. I fucking hate admitting this, and touching you is absolutely disgusting, but we have to do it, Potter. If not... we're going to die! Extremely soon and..."