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Bonded Consort	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 33021 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 28
- 29
Thank you again for all the reviews! This is the final chapter of Bonded Consort. Thank you for reading along.
Chapter Twenty-Nine—The Bonding
“Thank you for inviting us,” Lilac said, at her most adult, so that Harry felt his lips twitch in spite of himself. She smoothed down the dress robe she wore, which was made of glittering purple cloth that matched her name. She had a small, shimmering golden leash made of transparent magic around her left wrist. It connected to Eric’s wrist.
Eric grinned at Harry. “Thanks,” he said, and then turned around to poke at the white peacock that had strutted up to him. It jumped back and clacked its beak in offense.
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you could come.” Harry paused, but pretending the issue wasn’t there wouldn’t make it go away. “I’m glad that Lily and James let you come.”
Lilac sighed and rolled her eyes. “They finally found a Mind-Healer who seems to be helping Dahlia. They’re preoccupied with that right now.” She paused, frowning a little. “I don’t think much of the Healer’s methods, personally. But if Dahlia isn’t crying all the time, then she won’t be as tiresome.”
“That’s true,” Harry said, and hid his amusement at the way that Lilac had criticized the Mind-Healer by showing his amusement at something else. He tilted his head at the golden leash around her wrist. “What’s this?”
“I told Mum that she needed to cast that spell, or I could never keep Eric with me or keep him from disrupting the ceremony.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Harry asked Eric in disbelief. Eric only grinned at him and reached back to pluck the leash. It made a noise like a harpstring. Then he plucked it again, and it made a noise like a dog barking. Then came an elephant trumpeting, a hunting horn, and a snake hissing.
“I promise that we’ll be near the back,” Lilac told him, and rolled her eyes again, and started to haul Eric away. But she paused suddenly, and, before Harry could figure out what she was doing, leaned sideways and hugged him, hard, around the waist. Harry froze and blinked.
“I’m glad that you’re getting bonded to someone who loves you,” Lilac said, her face mostly buried in his robes. “I used to wonder about you all the time. I’m glad that you’re in England and safe.”
Harry gently touched her hair. “Thank you, Lilac.” After another minute, he managed to hug her back. Lilac stood up, brushed a few tears off her cheeks, and marched Eric towards the bonding grove at the back of the Malfoy Manor grounds. Harry just shook his head in wonder.
Harry watched the leash for a second, then shrugged. If it worked, who was he to question it?
“They’re good kids,” Sirius said from behind him, and Harry turned around and smiled at his—father. It was sometimes hard to get used to thinking of him that way, but Sirius had chosen to be his dad, and Harry was sure that he would get more used to it in the future.
“They are. I’m happy they’re here.” Harry noticed that Sirius was holding his hands behind his back, and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What are you hiding?”
“Hiding? Nothing.” Sirius grinned at him and waved his left hand around in the air, while keeping the right one clasped in place. “See? Nothing there.” He started using his left hand to turn his pockets inside-out. “Nothing in the pockets, nothing here, nothing there…”
“Sirius. Narcissa is going to be angry if you do something during the ceremony.” Threatening Sirius with Narcissa’s wrath worked better than Draco’s or Lucius’s, Harry had found. He simply didn’t care about their anger at all.
It didn’t work this time, though. Sirius widened his eyes and pretended to sway in place, his left hand over his heart. “Oh, no, not Narcissa. She’ll probably get tangled up in a banner if she tries to run at me, anyway.” He nodded at the banners that were flapping from trees, bushes, the sides of the gate, the poles of the fence, large rocks in the flowerbeds, and sometimes midair. Harry knew exactly half had the Black family crest on them and exactly half the Malfoy crest.
“Don’t ruin my bonding ceremony, please.”
Sirius was solemn in an instant, ruffling his hair and shaking his head. “I wouldn’t do that, Harry. Son,” he added, with a grin that made it clear he was still thinking about how he’d stolen a march on James. “It’s something for after the ceremony. Just to make it a little more lively.”
Pressing him would be useless, so Harry only rolled his eyes with a slight groan and said, “Just tell me that it’s not going to injure anyone.”
“Not if they don’t get in the way.”
“Sirius.”
“Yes, your bonding day is a very serious event,” his adoptive father agreed without a blink, and then skipped away to mingle with the crowds before Harry could catch him. He cursed softly.
“Pre-bonding nerves?” Draco asked softly, curling an arm around his waist. Harry hadn’t even seen where he came from.
“No, just hoping that no one disrupts it,” Harry said, and leaned back on his promised bondmate for a minute before he pulled away and stood upright with a smile. “And it’s in only a few minutes, so at least they have a limited amount of time.”
“That they do.” Draco extended his arm, and waited patiently until Harry laid his fingers on top of the crook of his elbow in exactly the prescribed position. “You can already hear the music starting.”
Harry listened, then snorted. It wasn’t like he’d cared greatly about the music, but he still thought Narcissa’s chosen arrangement of harps and flutes and bells was absurdly delicate for what was going to happen. “Does this get played every time a Malfoy bonds?” he asked, as Draco gently maneuvered him towards the outer edge of the bonding grove. They had to walk over to it together, even though they’d enter separately. Harry hadn’t even tried to understand the explanation behind that one.
“Yes,” Draco said, and smiled down at him. “God, you look gorgeous.”
“So do you.” Harry wouldn’t have wanted to wear Draco’s bonding robes, which had exactly the kind of high collar and lace cuffs that he thought would itch, but he could admit that he liked the way the cloth flowed around Draco’s legs and accented the width of his shoulders and the roll of his muscles. “I like the look of you better with them off, though.”
Draco’s eyes widened, and then he said, “Harry, please. Waiting is going to be painful enough without a hard-on.”
“Should have chosen less itchy robes,” Harry retorted, and reveled in the sound of Draco’s laughter.
He was about to bond with someone who loved him and could take a joke and looked handsome as fuck even in formal bonding robes. Harry honestly didn’t see how his life could get much better.
*
Draco did have to perform a quick spell that would subdue an erection before he split from Harry to enter the grove on the far side, near the fallen tree trunk that would serve as altar. Harry’s remark had something to do with it, but so did the mere sight of him walking in those blue bonding robes, the cloak with the Black crest glittering across his shoulders, his smile faint but very present as he tilted his head back to look at Draco one more time.
The last thing Draco saw before he disappeared into the cool green avenue of the arched tree branches was the bonding bracelet glittering on Harry’s wrist. He smiled. This was the last day that Harry would wear it.
Or that was, the last day he would wear it alone.
Pacing through the trees, Draco heard the music drop away. Spells cast on the grove kept this part of it still. Tradition dictated that Draco would walk in in silence and remain there until he saw Harry coming in. Then the music that was traditional for a Black heir getting bonded to someone else would play.
Draco was sure that Harry didn’t remember what music that was, or possibly hadn’t ever asked.
It didn’t matter.
The people standing among the aisles of trees, in the immense clearing that surrounded the fallen trunk, looked back at Draco. Most of them were his parents’ friends and associates, with some important Ministry people and members of the Wizengamot. Blaise and Pansy stood in the front row; both smiled when Draco caught their eye. There were also a few other Slytherins—Gregory, Vincent, Theo, Daphne—who Draco had been friendly with, although not as close as he was to Blaise and Pansy.
Harry’s siblings were near the back, with Black and the werewolf who had written those articles about the Potters. Standing with them were two women and a man Draco had to blink at before he recognized them. His aunt Andromeda, uncle-by-marriage Ted Tonks, and cousin Nymphadora.
He wondered for a moment if Mother had known they were coming, or if they were there on Black’s invitation.
But that didn’t matter, either.
What mattered was Harry advancing up the second aisle between the trees, the one at right angles to the one Draco had walked, and people falling silent at the sight of him.
His robes glinted in the sunlight. Around his neck, the golden torque that Black had given him because it was apparently tradition for Black heirs to be bonded in it almost glowed. Harry’s bonding bracelet gave back sparks as the light caught it, too.
And around his other arm, wound back and forth and creating an obvious lump under his robe, was M.H. Draco stared. More than one person followed his stare and swayed gently out of the path of Harry’s steps.
Where did he come from? Did Harry let him crawl around the gardens eating mice until it was time for the ceremony? Draco did have to admit the house-elves would welcome the help in getting mice out of the way and away from the banquet his parents had planned.
As long as he doesn’t eat a house-elf.
Harry stopped in front of Draco, facing the tree trunk that would serve as altar, while Draco stood in profile to it. Around them echoed the music of banging drums and high, distant horns. Draco approved. It was the traditional music, but it fit Harry’s personality and his hunt for his heritage, too.
Harry reached out a hand—his right hand, the one with the bonding bracelet on his wrist, as he’d been instructed. The music stopped, and Draco turned to face him, leaving his back to the altar. Standing off to the side, his mother would be waving her wand, and he knew the right flowers and leaves would be settling there.
Draco carried the second bonding bracelet in a pocket. He didn’t take it out right away. He looked into Harry’s eyes and drank in the moment, down to the creases at the corners of Harry’s smile and the soft flicker of M.H.’s tongue as he stuck it out to smell the air.
“Are you ready?” Draco whispered.
Harry nodded, and pulled out the bracelet that he would give to Draco.
“You were born Harry Potter,” Draco began, the words soft and sonorous. He knew his mother had threatened to cast a spell that would make his voice more musical. It sounded like she’d probably gone ahead and done it. “You stand before me Harry Black. Are you ready to take another name, and be bound and move forwards as Harry Malfoy?”
Harry beamed at him. “I am,” he said, and held out his hand again. This time, Draco held up the bracelet and turned it around so everyone could see it. It was made of glimmering opal, with a chunk of glittering emerald at the center in the shape of the Malfoy crest.
He ignored the sound of an elephant’s trumpet coming from the back rows. Let Harry’s siblings have their fun.
He had Harry. He knew who was getting the superior bargain.
*
Harry watched in awed silence as Draco slid the bracelet around Harry’s wrist. At once it slid up his arm, propelled by its own magic, which felt like a warm ripple of Draco’s or what Harry experienced every time he crossed the wards of the Manor, and settled into place next to the bracelet Harry already wore.
Harry looked up at Draco, and for an instant, he couldn’t remember the traditional words. All his world was filled with Draco’s smile.
Then they came back to him, and he displayed the bonding bracelet he held by turning in a slow circle. It was identical to the new one he wore, except the Malfoy crest on this one was made of a single huge diamond.
“You were born Draco Malfoy,” he told Draco. “You will wear that name, in common with me, until the day you die.” Draco lifted his head as if he was listening to the magical horns that had blown when Harry was walking through the grove. “Are you accepting of your fate, to wear it in common with me, to be secure in our bonding, and bound to me?”
“I am,” Draco breathed, so softly that Harry didn’t know if even Narcissa, standing off to the side on Draco’s right, could hear him.
But they couldn’t mistake the way he thrust his hand forwards, or how Harry slid the bracelet on. This one also snuggled and settled against his bonding bracelet, the way the one Harry wore had.
Draco leaned forwards and kissed him.
That caught Harry utterly by surprise, because it wasn’t the right place in the ceremony. He blinked several times, and Draco chuckled and pulled back, saying in a soft voice, “I couldn’t wait. I’m sure they’ll forgive us.”
Harry, catching a glimpse of Narcissa’s frozen face from the corner of his eye, wasn’t sure of that.
But Draco didn’t pay any attention to her, instead turning Harry around by his hands and seating him among the drifts of white flowers and green leaves on the altar. Harry took a deep breath and looked up at Draco. Lucius was standing behind him, further back, and Narcissa had moved slightly to the side so that she could see the moment when Draco would cover the Black crest on Harry’s back with the Malfoy one. The others would only see it when Draco stood Harry up and turned him around to face the crowd.
“Nervous?” Draco asked him.
“Only sad that the bonding ceremony says blood parents are the only ones who can be up here,” Harry said quietly.
Draco’s face softened for a moment, but he said, “You have your siblings, and Black, and my parents. And me.” His smile was sharp this time as he pulled the Malfoy cloak, a small square of folded cloth, from inside his robe. “Always me.”
Harry didn’t even try to answer that, because any words he would have tried would be utterly inadequate. He did give a soft gasp as he watched the white cloth of the Malfoy cloak unfold. It shimmered as if it was made of snow woven with sun.
“It’s beautiful,” Draco said, bending over him. The words that flowed from him them were nothing ceremonial, but that didn’t matter to Harry. They were as beautiful as the cloak. “Like your magic. Like the children we’ll create by combining our power. Like you. God, Harry…”
For an instant, his hand lingered on Harry’s chest. Then, maybe because he’d caught his mother’s eye, he raised the cloak and settled it delicately over the Black mantle on Harry’s back, overlapping it partially. He lightly pulled both hoods up around Harry’s head, and bent down to give him another kiss on the lips. This one was chaste in accordance with tradition.
“You’re so magnificent,” he murmured, and then he helped Harry stand up and turned him around so that everyone in the audience could see his back.
Harry could feel himself flushing and ducking his head without even meaning to. The cheers and applause were louder than the music had been, louder than his heartbeat in his bones, and they seemed sincere.
Draco pulled Harry towards him and kissed him again. Harry raised his hand and latched it deeply into Draco’s hair, keeping him in place as he pressed his lips hard enough into Draco’s to make his lips bleed.
Why do you do that all the time? M.H. asked, and reared up from on Harry’s arm so that he could wave his head back and forth in the air. There was more than one gasp from the audience, who must not all have seen him before. If you were passing a mouse back and forth between your mouths, it must be dead by now.
“Not everything is about food,” Harry answered, using his Parseltongue openly, which made some people sway and others clap harder and a few people look wistful. Harry chose to pretend that they were upset they hadn’t married a Parselmouth into their families, even though that probably wasn’t true.
Feed me a pig.
“Later, M.H.” Harry told him, and held out his hand to Draco so that he could lead him down the aisle Harry had walked up, together now. He could see Lilac waving frantically, with the leash adjusted so that Eric could sit on her shoulders. Remus was applauding, grinning. Sirius…
“Shit!” Harry muttered, and Draco just had the time to turn his head and look at Harry before Sirius’s firework went off.
It swept through the grove, whistling so loudly that most of the guests ducked and put their hands over their ears. Harry might have done the same, but Draco was rather insistent on claiming his hand. As it was, they were among the first to see the gold and red stars of magic drifting down along the colored comet’s path of the fire.
Everything the red and gold stars touched changed. The trees became enormous signs, waving back and forth in the wind, that all said CONGRATULATIONS! in letters so scarlet they looked bloody. The grass changed into tiny illusory fairies that jumped up and down and waved their arms in unison, like Lilac’s. The white flowers on the altar exploded into more fireworks that zoomed and whistled and shrieked, and the guests immediately acquired glamours of roaring lion heads.
Harry could hear Sirius’s laughter, loud and boisterous and unashamed, from the back of the audience. It stayed in the same place until Narcissa started moving towards it, and then abruptly cut off.
“What—the hell—” Harry, blinking as tiny fireworks wove a pattern of words in the air in front of him. Have a great bonding night!
“He’s in partnership with the Weasley twins,” Draco was muttering. “I’d forgotten.”
“The who?”
“Twins from a family who’s traditionally in Gryffindor,” Draco said grimly. His eyes were scanning the crowd, probably looking for Sirius himself. “They run a prank shop in Diagon Alley.” He rolled his eyes. “He was one of their first business partners. I wouldn’t be surprised if they designed that firework specifically for him.”
“Probably.” Harry honestly couldn’t bring himself to care. Sirius had made their bonding the perfect mix of him and Draco, he thought: traditional and untraditional, deep love and the joy Harry had at coming back to the wizarding world and finding someone who loved him.
He glanced around. Narcissa and Lucius were both grimly searching the crowd. Most of the guests were trying to cast spells to get rid of their lion heads or talk to each other, but since the glamours kept turning their words into roars, they weren’t having a lot of success.
“Race you to the sweets?” he asked Draco.
Draco gave him a startled look. “We’re supposed to eat last,” he muttered.
“And right now, no one’s going to care about that,” Harry said, and seized Draco’s hand. “Let’s go. We’ll take the edge off our hunger, and then we can go back to being traditional by the time your mother’s sorted all this out.”
Draco hesitated just one moment, and then his smile flashed out. “You have the best ideas,” he said, and kissed Harry before they started running across the gardens towards the tables that held the feast.
Running like this, Harry thought—hand-in-hand with his bonded—was almost better than flying.
*
Draco’s thoughts wheeled around him like fireworks of his own as he watched Harry dash out from the grove, pausing only briefly to ruffle Eric’s hair and hug Lilac with one arm. They had lion heads like everyone else, but they seemed to be enjoying it.
I have him.
I love him.
He’s mine.
And, as Harry, finally his consort, turned back to flash a smile at him, his face lit up from the side by the chaos of Black’s prank:
I couldn’t have chosen better.
The End.
*
SP777: Thank you!
SickPuppy: That's the feeling of both Harry and Draco now, although Harry wouldn't be adverse to meeting her again if her magic was actually under control.
Phoenix-Rob: Dahlia really is sort of like a child who stopped developing naturally when she used her magic. But that makes it all the more imperative for her to get good treatment now.
No pureblood book in time for the wedding. Then again, Sirius would probably have screwed with it.
Asuka_Bloodberry: Thanks! Harry would be far more willing to forgive Dahlia if she was eitehr already trained in restraining her magic or if he was still part of the family.
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Bonded Consort