Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Light of Heaven	By : Draeconin Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 28741 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Light of Heaven
by Draeconin

See chapter one for ratings, summary and other details.

Disclaimer: If you don't recognize it, it's mine. Everything else belongs to the copyright holders.

Chapter 2
"I suppose I should have guessed something like this could happen, but I don't see how," Dumbledore mourned quietly. He had long ago bought into his own legend of being all-knowing, and all-wise.
The boys were still unconscious, but putting them in separate beds had been an impossibility, much to Poppy Pomfrey's dismay. They had thrashed about when separated, and had a tendency to fall out of bed in their attempts to get to each other. She had even tried just pushing the beds together, but that had only made it easier for them to find each other, and entangle their arms and legs together in a most - unsettling - manner.

Harry was the first to regain consciousness. It was like waking from a wonderful dream; soft, warm, happy... No hurry, no fuss; just drift up to meet the day. He became aware that he wasn't alone. Not only not alone, but very intimately entangled with someone. Curious, but not in the least alarmed (he'd question that, later), he opened his eyes. Smooth, creamy-white skin, cheeks slightly pink, lips full, and warm, and quite kissable, white-blond hair falling over delicate, closed eyelids. And those long lashes were just so... ' Wait a minute! White-blond hair? Malfoy?!'
Shocked wide awake, and in a panic that someone might see and come to the correct conclusions - about him, anyway - Harry frantically disentangled himself from the other boy and scooted away, a myriad tangled emotions and thoughts running through his head all at the same time; confusion, fear, wondering how and why this situation had occurred, why he had accepted it so easily, and other emotions that he'd rather not even recognise existed, let alone deal with at the moment. Chaos ruled supreme in his mind. In the next second he felt an overwhelming sense of loss and emptiness that almost seemed to cross the border into pain, and found himself scrambling back towards the blond, frantically reaching for Draco who was, while still seemingly asleep, looking agitated, and doing some reaching of his own. Harry wanted desperately to wrap himself around the blond, but forced himself to settle for grabbing Draco's slender, graceful hand, and with that contact, the sensations of loss faded. Draco calmed down, but his own confusion intensified ten-fold. He tried gently letting go, but Draco's hand pursued his, and he as didn't feel comfortable without that contact himself, he just sat there holding the Slytherin's hand, staring, and trying to think, remember, and sort his conflicting emotions.
Okay - first was that weird dream, then the scene in the hall with Hermione, then Potions class... Potions class. Okay, that made a kind of sense. He wasn't all that good with potions, although he'd become much better than he'd been before, so maybe he'd made a mistake that Professor Snape hadn't caught? As much as Harry didn't like Snape, though, that didn't make sense. Professor Snape was one of the best potions masters in the wizarding world, if not the best. A bastard, but that didn't diminish his skill. But it was the only thing that made any sense at all. At the same time, he was positive he'd followed directions exactly.
But why was Malfoy here? Maybe he'd got caught in the fallout? He vaguely remembered a flash of light, so that made sense. And this strange dependence on contact with Malfoy was just a result of the miscast potions spell. That had to be it. 'You don't really believe that,' his mind said.
'Oh, shut up!' he told it.
Having successfully ignored his more sensible side, and rationalised his way into an acceptable reason for this situation, he had faith that it would soon be straightened out. Harry's attention turned back to the other boy - the other victim of his 'mis-brewed' potions spell - and noticed that Malfoy, too, seemed to be waking up. His concern, and feelings of guilt, turned to amusement as he watched the other boy go through practically an identical version of what he'd experienced upon waking; up to, and including, the need to reestablish physical contact. He'd felt the panic a second time when Malfoy pulled away, but recovered more quickly upon regaining contact.
"Potter!" Malfoy barked, glowering. "What in the Nine Hells is going on? What's so funny? And why am I having to, I shudder to say it, touch you? What did you do to me?!"
Annoyed, Harry smirked evilly "Well, Malfoy, maybe you finally realised just how much I mean to you!"
"I greatly resent your implication, Potter. Except for feeling your windpipe crush under my hands, I haven't the faintest interest in touching you!" Draco responded, choosing to ignore Harry's smirk; an expression he'd never seen on his rival before. It was a bit unsettling.
"Which is why you're holding my hand, right?" Harry gibed. "But to be serious, I'm afraid that this time I actually may be at fault. I must have flubbed my potion. All I remember is an explosion of light, and then waking up here. I can't seem to not touch you, either." he added, scowling, and blushing at the same time.
Draco yanked his hand away again upon hearing that, leapt out of bed, and stood there trembling violently for a couple of seconds with the bare emotions of anger, embarrassment, confusion, and - longing? - chasing each other over his face, before giving in to his need for physical contact and scrambling back over to Harry, who had exerted all his considerable willpower not to go chasing after the blond for the needed contact. "They had best be able to fix this, Potter. I am not going to walk down the halls holding hands with you!"
"Don't think it's a picnic for me, either, Malfoy!" Harry spat out, while feeling a guilty pleasure at the contact.
A few minutes later, Madame Pomfrey walked in, and noticed the boys sitting in their hospital pyjamas, glowering at each other. Ignoring their obvious emotional state, as well as the fact that they were still holding hands, she said "I see you're both awake. Good. How are you feeling?"
"How long is it going to take to get this spell broken, so I can get back to my life?" Draco demanded angrily, ignoring her question.
"No need to be rude, Mr. Malfoy. Your questions will be answered after breakfast, if you're up to it." Poppy was the picture of professional equinimity.
"Breakfast?" Harry asked, interrupting what would obviously have been another rude remark from Malfoy. "How long have we been unconscious?"
"As I said, all of your questions will be answered later," Madame Pomfrey repeated. "You both know where the toilet is, as often as you've been in here for Quidditch injuries. Clean up, then you may eat, and then someone should be here to answer your questions."
Frustrated and irritated, but knowing that further protests would get them nowhere with the formidable mediwitch, and finally noticing how full their bladders were, they quickly made their way to the loo, where they faced another problem. They couldn't let go long enough to 'take care of business'. "Maybe if we have our feet touching, we can let go our hands?" Harry suggested. That worked; for long enough, anyway, although it was terribly embarrassing for both boys, especially when they found they also had to empty their bowels. Fortunately, a freshening charm was kept on the room, so smells weren't a problem.
After washing hands and faces, they returned to the ward, and finding full English breakfast on a side-table, filled plates and started eating, both finding that they were very hungry. When they were mostly done, Dumbledore arrived with Professors McGonagall and Snape. Draco mostly ignored them, and kept eating, but Harry wiped his mouth clean and addressed the headmaster. "Professor Dumbledore?"
That worthy raised one hand, forestalling Harry's question, and said "Do go on ahead and finish your breakfast, Mr. Potter. We'll wait. Can't have growing boys have growling stomachs after all, can we?" he asked, eyes twinkling.
'Patronizing twit', thought Draco.
Harry blushed slightly, nodded, then started eating as quickly as he could. He wanted answers. Meanwhile, Professor Dumbledore conferred with Madam Pomfrey, then conjured chairs for himself and the teachers, and sat down. Both boys finished eating at approximately the same time, a few bites later.
"Right, then. Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, I assume you have a few questions?" Dumbledore asked.
"You're a master of understatement, sir," Draco replied, almost respectfully. "So what's Potter done, and how long is it going to take to undo it?"
"Mr. Potter hasn't 'done' anything, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore replied.
"Nonsense! He said himself that he'd done the potion wrong," Draco interrupted arrogantly.
"Mr. Potter?" the headmaster inquired, turning to Harry.
"I don't know that I made a mistake, sir, but Potions isn't one of my best classes," at which point Professor Snape snorted in agreement. Ignoring it, Harry continued. "so I figure I must have done, mustn't I?"
Snape interrupted. "As much as I hate to admit it, Mr. Potter, there was nothing wrong with your potion, or Mr. Malfoy's. I checked again after the incident, to be sure."
"Then what happened?" both boys asked at once, although with differing tones of voice; Harry's confused, Draco's demanding.
At Dumbledore's insistence, Professor Snape related what he had seen, in as few words as possible, and looking as though he'd
bitten into a particularly nasty 'Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans^�'.
"All we're totally certain of at this point, is that the Power Partner spell triggered it, and that you seem to have bonded," the headmaster added. "However, we're still researching."
"What do you mean, 'bonded'? And when are you going to reverse it?" Draco demanded.
"I mean that you are bonded - not only on a magical level, but on the emotional level, as well. And I'm afraid that it's not reversible, because it wasn't caused by magic; only triggered by it," Dumbledore replied.
"But that's impossible!" Draco roared. "I have no feelings for Potter other than despising him, and I absolutely refuse to put up with this!" Harry looked at him with a somewhat shocked expression, feeling a bit hurt, but also with a certain amount of agreement. He was also looking a little weak and strained, Draco noticed. Though he didn't want to feel concerned, he did. He ignored it, though. As a Slytherin, he refused to be seen feeling concern for a Gryffindor.
"Firstly, Mr. Malfoy, while it certainly is extremely rare, the last occurrence being approximately 750 years ago, it is certainly not impossible. Secondly, the passion you two have shown towards each other over the last four years, although couched in antipathy, argues for much deeper feelings than you, or I'm sure Mr. Potter here, are willing to admit, and..." here he had to hold his hand up again to forestall the immediately heated response both boys were obviously about to make, "...and, thirdly, if you're positive that I'm mistaken, all you need do is stand up and walk away."
Draco, although feeling decidedly drained, stood up and tried to do just that, but only got one step away before finding that, all unbeknownst to him or Harry, they were still holding hands. Stunned, he stared at their joined hands, then at Harry, and finally looked up at Dumbledore. To his credit, the headmaster didn't even crack a smile; just looked gravely at the young Mr. Malfoy. Draco sat down heavily on the bed, still holding Harry's hand, then looked once again at Harry's face. Harry, for his part, looked just as gobsmacked as Draco felt; which, oddly enough, gave them both comfort.
"So... We bonded. And it's rare. What does that mean for us, exactly?" Harry asked.
Draco was still in shock as he looked at Harry. He was still simmering a bit, still wanting to fight the inevitable, but was feeling a growing sense of wonder, and just a hint of admiration, that this young man beside him could deal with all of this, and ask practical questions.
"We have little more to go on than legend and myth for a bonding like yours," Dumbledore replied. "And even then, your situation is different. The last such bonding, which is called a 'Light of Heaven' bonding for obvious reasons,..." He was interrupted.
"Sir? The reasons might be obvious to you, but I don't know what they are," Harry complained.
"You are not aware of what happened at the time, then?" McGonagall asked.
Harry shook his head. "No, Professor, nor how long I - we - were unconscious."
"A large nimbus of bright golden light envelopes each of the two involved in the bonding during the pre-bonding stage, which merge as the parties touch, and, for lack of a better word at the moment, 'explodes' violently when the bonding is complete," she explained. "As for how long you were unconscious..." She surreptitiously looked to Dumbledore for approval, and at a slight nod of his head, continued. "It's been four days."
If Harry and Draco had been standing, they would have sat - heavily. To say they were gobsmacked would be to severely understate the case. But before they could question further, Dumbledore took over.
"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore remarked. "Now! As I was saying, the last such bonding occurred when the partners were already fully adult, and had already developed their own magical capabilities to the full. Even so, their bonding expanded their abilities exponentially. The two of you are still growing and developing. To have developed this bond now... Well, we just cannot predict the results."
Professor McGonagall chimed in. "But do rest assured that we shall do our best to help you, and protect you, while you are exploring your new relationship, and any difficulties that might come up in your bonding. Right now, though the bonding is permanent, it is still developing, and can only grow stronger and deeper over time, even if you should try to fight it. Oh, dear. I do hope you won't try to fight it, as experience has shown with lesser bondings that severe damage results to both partners."
"So we don't have to like each other?" asked Draco.
"Ah... How can I put this delicately, Mr. Malfoy?" she replied, a hint of colour coming to her cheeks. "Those other bondings? Well, they were only Power Partners with a bit of emotional bonding. Your, and Mr. Potter's, bonding is very deep. Any antipathy you're feeling at this point is from self-deception and habit, and only fighting the inevitable."
Both boys blushed furiously at the realization that their most deeply hidden secrets and desires, not even fully acknowledged to themselves, were known to others.
"So what do we do now? We can't even let go of each other," Harry said, sounding defeated.
"That will change, Mr. Potter, over time. It should begin in a matter of a few days or weeks, if events develop as other bondings have done. However, it may be a year or more before you can stand to be further apart than, say, a hundred yards or so, for more than a few hours. As I said before, however, most of this is conjecture. Your situation is somewhat unique," Professor Dumbledore replied. "In the meantime, you cannot stay here, as, really, there is nothing wrong with you. Nor, I'm sure you realise, can you go back to your respective houses; so we have prepared rooms for you." He was relieved that both boys had regained some colour to their faces, and seemed to be stronger than a few moments before.
"We can't see our friends?" Harry cried out.
"I didn't say that, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore replied. "In fact, you will not only be allowed to see your friends, but be required to attend classes, eat in the Great Hall, and attend other functions as they come up - eventually. For now, I think you will find that your situation is not the only thing causing you distress. I think you will find that the presence of others is grating. Until that passes, you must attend to your bonding and get to know each other better."
"In the meantime, I believe that there are a few people out in the hall who are quite worried about the both of you. Or rather," Dumbledore amended, "there are people who are worried about each of you, individually. Once they have seen that you have come to no harm, you will be allowed no other visitors for that period of two weeks that I mentioned. If you have managed not to kill each other in that time, you should be bonded enough to allow the presence of others. Do you wish to see your visitors?"
"Who are they?" Harry asked.
"I believe it's Mr. Ronald Weasley, Miss Hermione Granger, Mr. Blaise Zabini, and Miss Pansy Parkinson," Dumbledore replied. "There were others who wished to attend, but we decided to limit this visit to these."
"Yes, please," Harry said. Draco just sat there, but nodded, dazedly.
Draco knew what Dumbledore was not saying; that of all the Slytherins, Blaise and Pansy were the only ones who wanted to see him. He would have thought that Crabbe and Goyle - but then, the old coot had said that their visitors were restricted, for some odd reason. He rather wished that Dumbledore had chosen one of his 'bodyguards' rather tha Pansy, however. For Pansy, he was sure, it was all a matter of form; putting on a show of proper concern for her 'boyfriend'. The term, in regards to Pansy Parkinson, made him nauseous.
"For now, I think it might be best to let them believe it was a potions accident," the headmaster warned. "Your bonding affects much more than yourselves, and the situation could not only get very complicated, but dangerous. I don't think I'd let on about the depth of the bond."
Draco slowly nodded, seeing where the older man's thoughts were going. Draco wasn't under any illusions about his parents' familial feelings for him. There weren't any - only duty. Although he wasn't exactly sure what his father would do upon hearing this news, Draco was pretty sure he wouldn't walk away from it in one piece. And in a world of magic users, most secrets didn't stay secret for long. So the question was, should he try to continue as always, and hope that this new-found secret didn't get found out, or take steps to remove himself from Lucius' guardianship. Yes, the man was his father, but there wasn't a gram of love or respect for his son in him. In fact, Lucius regularly beat him for anything and everything Draco did that didn't live up to his, Lucius', standards.

Draco's body had, at the beginning of the school year, shown a variety of bruises in various stages of healing from his knees, to his shoulders, to his elbows. The fact that Lucius was so meticulous in his savage abuse as to not damage anything that might be easily seen, only made it worse. That the bruises were not allowed to be quickly spell-healed spoke almost of pride in his handiwork. Not that Lucius stopped with physical and emotional abuse. Draco had experienced far too many Dark curses as well, including Cruciatus. He had only stayed this long because he hadn't anywhere else to go. Now, with this development, even that reason wasn't enough. Now his survival was at stake; but who to ask for help?
At just short of sixteen years old, Draco was only five foot, five inches tall, and weighed 125 pounds. Both his father and mother were much taller, and while it was possible that he'd grow more, most boys not completely physically mature until about twenty-one years of age, it wasn't likely. His body had put too much energy, and magic, into healing his body to have enough left over to prepare it for growth. Although Draco didn't know it, if he grew another two inches, he'd be lucky.
"Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape - it was good of you to spare your time. Thank you. Madam Pomfrey? If you'd be so kind as to oversee the visit? I'll have the house elves take care of the chairs afterward." Dumbledore's words brought Draco back from his musings. "I'll be back later to take you to your new quarters, boys." At that, he turned and left. He wondered if he should have told the boys everything. Probably not. It hadn't shown to be necessary, yet.
The teachers, hearing the dismissal in his words, said their farewells, and took their leave. Madam Pomfrey went to admit the visitors, giving them warning. "Keep your voices low, and try not to get too excited. Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy had a violent reaction to the Power Potion spell. If I see that they are tiring, you will have to leave. And you only have a few minutes, anyway."
Ron and Hermione tried to protest, while Pansy sneered at them in disdain, but the mediwitch was adamant. Giving in, they entered the ward.
Harry watched as their visitors almost tiptoed into the room, making him smirk in amusement. He felt Draco's similar reaction. Ron, Hermione, and Pansy Parkinson. Harry wasn't sure that the combination was a good one. He was especially worried that Ron's reaction to the bonding might be less than supportive, but hopefully the short visit wouldn't allow things to get too out of hand. Blaise, on the other hand, had always seemed to be level-headed, so although he didn't trust the boy, he also wasn't too worried about him.
"Harry!" Ron yelled, enthusiastically, as soon as he caught sight of them. Then, after Hermione elbowed him in the ribs to remind him to be quiet, he'd winced, favoured her with an apologetic glare, then stage-whispered "Harry! Hey, mate! How're ya feeling?"
Pansy rushed to Draco's side, and started gushing. She was being particularly sweet - nauseatingly so, from the look on Draco's face. "Draco, you naughty boy! Don't you know you're supposed to duck when stupid Gryffindors blow up their potions? Heard it was Potter this time, instead of Longbottom," she said, as she snuggled up to Draco, and glared at Harry.
Draco wasn't sure if he should be sick from Pansy's 'affections' or gleeful of Harry's discomfort. The resulting facial expression was - interesting.
As Harry started to reply to Ron's question, he saw his friends staring at something. He followed their eyes, and found it was his and Draco's clasped hands. "Harry," Hermione said slowly, "is there something you'd like to tell us?"
This exchange had not gone unnoticed by Pansy, who quickly found the cause of such interest. "Potter! Just what do you think you're doing! Let go of my boyfriend this instant, you pervert!"
"Harry's not a pervert, Parkinson; it's that slimy git you call a boyfriend! How even he can stand to look at your mug is beyond me," Ron retorted.
"I'll thank you, Weasel, to stay out of my affairs," Draco remarked sharply. Turning to the blond Slytherin girl that was clinging to him, he all but drawled "As it happens, however, I've been meaning to say this for some time. Pansy, dear - first of all, I'm not your boyfriend. Never have been, never will be. Yes, we had a bit of fun a couple of times, but that's all it was. Get over yourself. Secondly, and most unfortunately, Potter's potion mishap makes our having to be in physical contact a necessity for now; a situation which I fervently hope to be short-lived." 'Alright, so I lied a little. All in a good cause,' he added silently, to himself.
Pansy was mortified to have been so humiliated in front of witnesses - and Gryffindors, no less! Her face went white, then blood red before she stood quickly, glaring at Draco, and departed. "Well, that's one down," Draco remarked, smirking. "How about it, Weasel, Mudblood? You pushing off, yet?"
Blaise snickered at Pansy's plight, and Draco's insults. "Very good, Draco. Pansy's pretensions have annoyed some of us for ages! But the question still remains, my friend; why are you holding hands with the Golden Boy?"
He didn't get an answer, for the simple reason that Draco's attentions were focused elsewhere.
Seeing the hurt and anger on his friends' faces from Draco's careless insults, Harry found himself absolutely furious. Red-faced with anger, he grabbed the front of the other boy's pyjama tops, pulled him up to within inches of his face, and in a quiet, dangerous voice full of the threat of violence, stated "If you ever call them that again, Malfoy, you'll wish you were facing dementors instead of me."
Both immediately found themselves feeling faint. Eyes wide, feeling deep inside of himself the cold rage of Potter's emotions as well as the promise of his words, he managed "Hey, Potter, nothing meant by it. Don't get your pants in a twist!"
Still glaring, but feeling Draco's trepidation, Harry weakly said "We'll talk about this later."
"No need to do that, mate," Ron interjected, glowering at Draco "I'd be happy to shut his mug. Permanently."
"Oh? You, and just whose army, Weasley?" Draco replied tiredly.
"Shut your gobs, both of you," Harry interruped, sounding just as tired as Malfoy. "Ron, I didn't ask you to rescue me, and I don't need you to try. Malfoy, let's not make this any harder than we have to, hm?"
Draco looked about ready to drop, but nodded his head. Ron's chin appeared to be trying to hit the floor. Harry had never spoken to him like that!
Hermione had seen what happened. "Harry? Are you all right?" She didn't really care about Malfoy. He had never given her reason to.
Harry nodded his head, eyes closed, and, even seated, swaying a bit. But he knew Hermione wouldn't accept just that. "It's just a part of this damned potion thing, 'Mione. We feel each other's emotions too strongly." 'Only a little fib,' he reasoned.
"You're feeling each other's emotions?" she queried.
'Damn,' Harry thought, 'have to watch my words more closely.'
"Just until the spell is reversed," Harry lied.
"Um... So, Harry... Um... Why was, um, is, Malfoy holding your hand?" Ron asked, managing to sound both embarrassed and
murderous at the same time. "What's he up to?"
"Oh. Ron. Sorry I snapped at you, mate. But Draco's not up to anything. I have to have contact, too. Has something to do with that potion spell that went wrong." Harry mumbled, again telling a partial lie. 'Shite, this is getting to be a habit.' "It's painful... Well, not real pain, but if we're not touching in some way..."
"I don't like it," Ron declared. "He's done something to you, Harry! And you just called him 'Draco'!"
"Ron, calm down," Hermione cautioned.
"It's just the potion, Ron," Harry lied again, trying to soothe the redhead.
"As if I'd be caught dead anywhere near Scarhead otherwise!" Draco snidely remarked. Well, he tried. He still sounded like he was half dead.
"Listen, Ferret-face..." Ron threatened.
The sobriquet angered Draco enough to say threateningly "Yeah, Weasel?" before turning rather pasty-faced, as did Harry, as both became very dizzy and weak.
Madame Pomfrey, who'd been discreetly listening, had heard the tension thickening, but had been in the middle of brewing a simple, but delicate, potion, so hadn't been able to get to the area before the flare-up. "Visiting time is over. Now! I told you not to get excited or loud. Out!" she instructed imperiously, as she stormed into the room.
"But Malfoy started it!" Ron complained.
"Regardless, I'm ending it. Out!"
"Can we see Harry tomorrow, Madame Pomfrey?" asked Hermione.
"I'm afraid not, Miss Granger. As I said, they will be in isolation for a while."
"But - " Ron and Hermione started to protest.
"There is nothing that can be done about it, and it's not entirely my decision. Your friends will be fine. Now go!"
Out in the hall, Hermione turned to Ron. "If you could just keep that stupid temper down! I wanted to ask more questions! Something about all this doesn't add up."
"That evil, malicious, malevolent, malignant, git, Malfoy,..."
"Is in the same boat as Harry," Hermione interrupted, "and because you couldn't keep your mouth shut... Well, I'll just have to do the best I can with what I have."
"What are you on about, 'Mione?" Ron demanded.
"Finding out what's really happened, that's what. I'll be in the library." And with that, she strode off determinedly, leaving Ron, once again, with his mouth hanging open. Then, remembering who, in his mind, was the cause of Harry's plight, he allowed his resentful hate to start simmering again. With his and Draco's history, not to mention their families histories together, it didn't have to be logical - it just felt right.
Back in the infirmary, Poppy had just finished checking the boys to make sure no damage had been done.
"What... What happened to us, Madame Pomfrey?" asked Harry.
"What did it feel like?" she asked.
"Well, I got angry when Draco insulted my friends..."
"Scraping the bottom of the barrel to find those, Potter," Draco muttered, but there was no energy or real emotion behind it. It was more of a reflex, so Harry ignored it as best he could.
"As I said, I got angry and told Malfoy off for it, then I felt him get scared..."
"Scared of you, Potter? Don't make me laugh," Draco interjected.
Harry's patience was about at an end. "Look, Malfoy, I felt it! And don't tell me you didn't know what I was feeling, because that's what happened next!"
"What's that, Mr. Potter?" the mediwitch asked.
"Well, it was rather like our feelings started bouncing back and forth, and kept building up until we were overloaded," Harry replied.
"That's likely exactly what happened, Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy. And until you can build up some defences against that, I suggest you try to get along. This was a very mild reaction. It could have been much worse."
"Worse?" Draco almost squeaked in disbelief.
Madam Pomfrey nodded. "There have been cases of mutual insanity when bondmates couldn't find a way to work together." She then turned, and left.
"Potter?" breathed Draco weakly.
"Yes, Malfoy?" came the dazed reply.
"We are so screwed, Potter."
"Uh-huh."
Due to the incident, it was decided not to move them until the next day.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Light of Heaven