Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Marriage of True Minds	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 55083 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 41
- 42
- 43
Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Forty-Two--Forwards Into the Circles of the World

            "Thank you for coming."

            Harry sounded sincere, as far as Draco could tell. He couldn't bring himself to be sincere if he spoke, so he nodded coolly, once, to Shelborn and then turned and stared at the entrance to the restaurant. He still hated being out here like this, out from behind the wards, with Harry vulnerable.

            So perhaps he would hate me for thinking that, he had to admit, glancing at Harry and seeing the calm, determined expression on his face, the way his hand hovered an inch from his wand, how his eyes measured the confines of the room and looked as if they would figure out an escape in seconds if that was needed. He's perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and he would hate to think that his confession to me about his relatives damaged him in my eyes.

            But it wasn't exactly damage. Draco wondered if he could explain that. He didn't think Harry was weak, he simply...

            Harry had had to deal with more than enough in his life, and was having to deal with more, given the scars and the decay wizards and this new permutation of the bond. If Draco could have spared him something, it would seem stupid and uncaring not to.

            Accordingly, he had suggested that he could meet Shelborn and explain the situation to him. The bloke was a pure-blood. Harry had chosen him for that reason. Surely he would understand.

            He had proposed that, and Harry had stared at him. Then he'd turned back to the mirror and finished making ready, dashing his hair into a new position and adjusting the collar of his robes.

            "You look like you're primping for him," Draco had hissed, stepping up behind Harry and putting one hand on the back of his neck. It had become one of his favorite places to touch Harry, particularly because his hand wasn't resting on the scars if he did that.

            "I'm making sure that I cover up the marks of our time together, yes, so he won't feel that I'm throwing it in his face," Harry retorted, fixing Draco with a single freezing glance that Draco didn't feel he'd merited. "He deserves better than that."

            As far as Draco was concerned, Shelborn deserved nothing but a brutal invitation to fuck off. Of course, Harry wouldn't see it that way. And Harry had asked, moments before they Flooed to this restaurant to meet Shelborn, wouldn't Draco want the courtesy of a face-to-face meeting if he was in Shelborn's position and "Ian" was in his?

            Draco had waited a moment until Harry had to look at him instead of the Floo powder he held in one hand, then bent close and murmured, lips right at the edge of Harry's ear, "I wouldn't accept it. I would find some way to get you back, to make you acknowledge me."

            "Just as well for all of us that Ian's not like that, isn't it?" Harry retorted, and stepped into the fire. Draco followed, disgruntled.

            He had to admit that he did feel less possessive of Harry than he had the last time they were at the Ministry--the effects of the iron band were finally fading, or at any rate getting themselves under control--but that hardly mattered. The sight of Shelborn's face, his earnest eyes (so painfully earnest; Draco would never look that way if someone he wanted was being taken away from him), the way his hands toyed with his fork, made Draco want to touch Harry's hand and caress his arm and kiss his neck just to fuck with Shelborn.

            "I reckon it didn't work out exactly the way you thought it would," Shelborn said quietly, his eyes resting on their wedding rings for an instant and then darting away. Draco smirked and moved his hand forwards so that their iron bands locked. Harry shot him a look of intense irritation, but he didn't actually ask Draco to let him go, so Draco left his hand in place and just raised one eyebrow. If Harry wanted Draco to release him, he would have to ask himself.

            "No, not at all." Harry reached out and clasped Shelborn's hand with his own.

            Draco closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Harry was talking and so was Shelborn, a hum of voices and trading words, but Draco didn't want to listen. He listened to the sounds of the restaurant instead, the whispers and the clinks and the louder conversations and the occasional whoosh of the Floo as someone arrived the way he and Harry had, and told himself that he was listening for something that would potentially signal the arrival of the decay wizards.

            It was irritating, that was what it was.

            Harry was too good for his own good. He was compassionate, and he cared about hurting people, and he was less exclusive and less jealous than Draco was. Draco reckoned he should think of that as a good thing, and it was, especially in the abstract. After all, that meant Harry wouldn't get as upset about things like Draco talking to Laura when he decided what to do about that.

            But he wanted Harry to be jealous for extended periods of time, over him, far more than he wanted single moments when Harry was understanding and generous.

            Then Draco thought of something, and his mouth curved in a hard smile. Well. I haven't been close to Laura except once, when we met up in the room where Grayson attacked Harry, since we came to a better understanding. Harry hasn't had his chance to be affected by the iron band yet.

            He could feel someone staring at him in concern, and opened his eyes to see Harry watching him. He smiled and shook his head, then leaned back in his chair, more relaxed than he had been yet, though he made sure to keep his iron band linked with Harry's.

            Things were changing, and they were improving, which wasn't always the same thing.

*

            "I'm sorry," Harry said to Ian, rolling his eyes sideways at Draco. It was perfectly obvious that Draco wasn't listening, so Harry felt free to make gestures like that. Draco had either smirked at their rings or looked elsewhere, presumably to keep from glaring at Ian, the entire time they were in the restaurant. "He's like this."

            "I can see why."

            Harry felt his face practically burst into flames as Ian let his eyes ran over him. He still wasn't good at taking compliments, and for all he knew, he never would be. He ran his hand over his forehead and sighed. "Sorry. But no, I never planned for this to happen. I thought our marriage was on the verge of shattering just because we didn't trust each other when I spoke to you."

            Ian sighed back and shrugged. They'd already done all the talking they could, maybe, Harry saw. At least he didn't see deep pain on Ian's face, although what he saw there was bad enough; Ian could probably get over this without permanent heartbreak. "What we think is going to happen and what does aren't the same," Ian said. "I'll not deny, though, that I was looking forward to getting to know you better."

            Harry squeezed Ian's hand again. Draco also wasn't watching that, and if he had, then Harry would have defied him to his face over his right to get angry about it. "And I, you," he said quietly. "You're a different person than Draco. It would have been--nice."

            "Yes, that and more," Ian said, and shot a sideways glance at Draco, his eyes sparking. Harry didn't know what he meant to do until Ian lifted Harry's free hand to his mouth and kissed it.

            Draco turned his head and gave them both a blank stare. His muscles had tensed, and Harry could feel the motion of Draco's arm against his that meant he was sliding his wand out.

            "Not here," Harry hissed, clamping his hand down on Draco's arm and refusing to let him move.

            "He did that," Draco breathed, eyes very dark, "even after he knew that he couldn't date you anymore--"

            "Yes, I did," Ian said, and rose to his feet, smiling at Draco with a sweetness Harry had to admire, if only because it didn't look overly fake. "Call it wanting one more taste."

            He turned his back and made his way out of the restaurant. Draco stared after him, and his hand twitched towards his wand again. Harry rolled his eyes and forcibly restrained Draco. "Do I have to sit on you?" he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

            "That was stupid," Draco said, and released his wand. Harry had no idea who he meant, or what action he meant, but was just as glad that Ian wouldn't receive a curse in the back as he walked away. Perhaps he should owl him and warn him about the possibility of it happening it years from now in the middle of a dark night as he walked down Diagon Alley--

            Then he shut down that thought very firmly, because Draco would kill both of them if he owled Ian again, and stood up with a shake of his head. "Anyway. We have what we came for."

            "Perhaps you do." Draco stood, but his eyes hadn't moved from the door. "I could use a bit more reassurance."

            Harry rolled his eyes again. "When we get home, then I'll give you all the reassurance you like."

            Draco turned towards him, and his smile and his eyes had both become like polished steel. "Will you? That would be very...nice." His hands were busy under Harry's cloak, in places that would be less than obvious to most of the people watching them in the restaurant, but which still made Harry flush.

            Somehow, they managed to get through the Floo without leaving any pieces of themselves behind in London. And somehow, they even made it to the bed before Draco was on him, biting his shoulder and pushing hard at his shirt, as if it existed mainly to make his access to Harry harder.

            Harry had to start laughing when he realized how hard he was, though. Bloody iron band. But I like it.

*

            "If you come to the Ministry with Malfoy following you around like you've got him on a leash, then someone's going to notice, mate."

            Harry sighed and swatted at Draco's hand, which was making its way up his thigh, out of sight of Ron's face hovering in the flames. "I know. But I don't know what else to do right now. Do you need me there to complete the investigation into the decay wizards? Or to ask questions or--provide evidence?" The Head Auror had hinted during their interrogation of Abernathy that they might need to examine the scars and perhaps even coax the beast to rise out of Harry. That made him want to vomit just thinking about it, but he would do it if he had to.

            Ron's face softened, probably because he could see some of that same disgust in Harry's expression. "Not right now, mate. Everyone thinks it's natural that you'd want to take some time off after the way you almost died and the confrontations and attacks you had before that."

            Harry nodded. He was glad. Narcissa hadn't come out of the Malfoy library yet, so they didn't know which conclusions she had reached, and venturing out to speak to Ian, although he hadn't mentioned it to Draco, had been harder than he realized. The bond seemed to leash them both tighter when they were in a public setting, as if it was the living creature Harry had compared it to and was panicking at the thought of their moving away from each other. "Thanks, Ron. Then I'll see you in a few days, when we've figured out what to do."

            Ron nodded to him, mouth a thin line. "That's probably as long as we'll need to round up to the conspirators, anyway."

            Harry smiled back at him, said good-bye, and let the fire go out. Then he turned to Draco and gripped his hair, shaking his head lightly back and forth. Draco, already kneeling on the floor in front of him, grinned up at him and reached out to brush his fingers over Harry's cock.

            "You're insatiable," Harry said.

            "Why shouldn't I be? You made me wait long enough." Draco breathed out, and although Harry was still dressed, the sensation was enough to make him close his eyes and shiver. "And we never did get a chance to be newlyweds, devouring each other, learning each other..." Draco's voice was soft, hypnotic, as he reached out and let his fingers hover above Harry's erection.

            "Draco," Harry whispered.

            Then the door to the sitting room they were using opened, and Narcissa stepped through.

            Despite the way his own face immediately flushed and he brought his legs down to let one hand cover his groin, Harry couldn't help but grin. Draco had practically jackknifed to his feet and was now standing close to the fire, as if that would help explain the way sweat gleamed on his cheeks and blood underneath them. He cleared his throat loudly, too, and turned his body at an obviously unnatural angle. Harry resisted the temptation to turn him back again and focused on Narcissa. If she had finally sought them out after hours of research, it must be important.

            "I'm afraid I found nothing that gives us a solid answer," Narcissa said at once, and if she was aware of what they had been doing, she gave off an air of sublime unconcern. "But what I do have is interesting. May I sit?"

            Harry blinked when he realized she was looking at him, not Draco. She had never done that before, especially since this was her house.

            But as he watched her sit and arrange her robes primly around her, it occurred to him that she might have done it because she wanted him to feel at home here. It wouldn't be the first time she'd made a gesture like that, and this time, he could actually notice and appreciate them.

            Draco eventually came back from the fire and settled down on the couch at Harry's side, although he conscientiously didn't touch him. Harry couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw a gleam of amusement in Narcissa's eyes before she turned to the precisely inked sheaf of notes she held.

            "Nothing precisely like this has happened before, no," she said, her voice soft. "But there have been rituals interrupted in the middle, rites of marriage itself, rather than a forced marriage bond. And I have been able to find a story of a couple with a steel band who found themselves still capable of affecting each other's lives when the forced marriage was ended."

            "But the steel band didn't stay on their fingers?" Draco's voice was calm now, full of authority. Harry looked at him with admiration. He wouldn't have been able to do that. He was hard put to keep from squirming, in fact.

            "No." Narcissa folded her hands on her lap and studied them both, eyes lingering on their wedding rings. "That is the difference between you and all the other mentions of this I can find, and I assume it must have happened because of the number of the bands. Perhaps their formation in a short time helped as well. Most couples remain forcibly married for years before acquiring the bands of extra metal, if they ever do."

            "We always did have to be intense," Harry muttered, and had to resist the temptation to meet Draco's eyes. It would go nowhere good, right now. Perhaps the hardest thing to come to terms with now was the ability Draco had to affect him, how much he responded to him, even though Harry didn't think he always showed it. "What were the consequences of interrupting a wedding rite?"

            "Various." Narcissa consulted her notes again, though from the crisp way she spoke Harry thought she might be doing it for appearance's sake; she had probably memorized what she was going to say already. "In a few cases, the couple still felt connected to each other. In one case where the rite had advanced as far as the final vows before a witch who had been formerly betrothed to the wizard attacked, they were unable to touch others without pain until they were reunited and the vows completed."

            "Is there anyone else who can't venture far away from each other?" Draco shifted his weight and leaned forwards. "That is the consequence I find most troubling, and which I think our enemies could use against us most easily."

            Harry nodded, wincing as he thought of what would happen should the Ministry miss someone as they mopped up the decay wizards. They would probably try to capture Harry if not kill him, or perhaps capture Draco and use him as a means to force Harry to release the beast. Harry didn't know how the bond, coiled around them tighter than ever now that Narcissa was in the room and they were paying attention to someone besides each other, would react, but he flinched from the pain even in his imagination.

            "There was one set." Narcissa frowned, and her fingers stilled. Harry winced. He had learned to read her well, well enough to guess what the kinds of words that would follow before she said them. "A couple interrupted in the middle of their rites due to familial disapproval, who died when their bond was stretched by well-meaning parents who thought they would be willing to marry others when separated."

            "How--how far?" Draco's voice was thick. Harry reached out and let his fingers stroke Draco's wrist, feeling the pulse beat there.

            Narcissa's eyes were dark with compassion. "One mile."



            Draco closed his eyes. Harry squeezed his wrist hard and turned back to Narcissa. "Were you able to find anything about how to heal the consequences of a broken bond?"

            "Death is the major consequence," Narcissa said. "I believe that what you need is a way to guarantee the continuation of life."

            Surprisingly--since Harry thought Draco was the one less bothered than he was by confinement behind the wards--Draco was the one who shook his head and murmured, "But we can't stay behind the wards for the rest of our lives, or even for very long. What can we do to guard ourselves?"

            "The couples who were interrupted in their wedding rituals, if they did not die, repaired the situations by completing the rite." Narcissa nodded at their rings. "I think you should marry again. That would renew the bands on the rings and give the bond a place to--settle, I believe is the right word. A place to live. It could then be assured that you had something more than your own wills tying you together, and so it would not see the need to compress the distance between you."

            Harry reacted without thinking about it. Draco had given him so much in the past few days, including his tolerance of Ian and the way he had talked his way through Harry's confession about the Dursleys. He turned around, clasped Draco's hand and raised it to his lips, and waited until Draco locked eyes with him, frowning. Then he whispered, "Draco, will you marry me?"

            Draco stared at him, lips parting slightly. Harry hoped it was in astonishment and not in disbelief; that would be a little disheartening, to be disbelieved when he was trying so hard to give Draco this gift. He held Draco's eyes and waited.

            Then Draco said, "Of course. But only as long as you marry me." His hands were holding Harry's tight enough that Harry could feel the bond between them again, humming in confusion. They weren't supposed to get closer than they needed to, after all.

            Harry laughed softly. "You didn't want me to propose without being able to do the same, hmmm?" He leaned in to nip softly at the side of Draco's mouth, and then Narcissa cleared her throat and he remembered they had company. He pulled away, coughing, only to see Narcissa shake her head at them with a slight smile.

            "You need not stop on my account," she said. "But while I am cheered that you will have a proper wedding, it must be the right kind. I have not yet encountered a book that would tell me how to repair a broken forced marriage bond where it was snapped in this half-state. There have been a few times that the head of the family withdrew his or her blessing from the marriage, with what result you know. But in those cases, the bond was gone completely. There was no remnant of it to be soothed."

            "Wouldn't the snootiest possible pure-blood tradition satisfy it?" Harry asked. Then he realized the way Draco was glaring at him, probably less from what he had said than from the fact that he had said it to Narcissa, and winced. "Er. Sorry."

            "There are, in fact, several equally refined pure-blood marriage rituals," Draco said, with a hauteur in his voice that Harry couldn't blame him for. "We will explore them, and will decide on the right one."

            Harry glanced at Narcissa, to see if that would work, only to meet a smile that lit her eyes like a fire. He blushed for a different reason this time, and she stood to cross the room to them, taking his wrist and lightly kissing it.

            "Welcome to the family, Harry," she murmured. "Hopefully you feel much more welcome now than you did. I swear to stand beside you, in protection and defense, in acceptance and compassion."

            Sparks swirled into being around her fingers, bright golden reflections of what Harry assumed to be firelight at first. Then they swarmed down into his skin, and he yelped as he felt tiny burning pricks where they landed. "Narcissa, what--?"

            "At least you no longer instinctively reach for my married name in times of danger," Narcissa murmured, eyes deep with amusement as she inclined her head. "It is a sign of my commitment to you as a son-in-law, one of the blessings that my family could bestow when someone married a daughter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. That is all."

            "I'm a daughter," Draco said.

            Narcissa smiled at him and moved away, saying as she left, "There are worse things to be." Harry caught a glimpse of the shadow on her face and suspected she was thinking of Lucius.

            As the door fell shut behind her, Harry shook his head and turned to Draco. "You know," he said, "that I didn't propose just because I want to get rid of the broken bond. I also want to see us married. I want to see what ridiculous robes you'll pick out and try to make me wear. I want to see the way your eyes shine when I hand you a healed ring." He broke off and coughed when he realized Draco was staring at him. "You know that, right?" he finished weakly.

*

            I know that now.

            Draco hadn't realized that he was carrying a small frozen ball of worry in his stomach, but it dissolved now. He leaned forwards and kissed Harry's chin, then his cheeks, then his mouth.

            "Thank you," he murmured. "I love you."

            Harry's eyes shut, as if he couldn't bear the light shining from Draco's, and he whispered, as if helplessly, "I love you, too." His hands were tight in Draco's hair as he found it and hung on.

            Draco closed his eyes, turned his head, and kissed Harry's palm. Then his throat. Then his shoulder.

            And then they resumed what they'd been about to do before his mother interrupted them, which Draco thought entirely fair.

*

            unneeded: I think Chapter 41 had psychological action, not so much physical action.

            Shulan33: Thank you! In the initial scene, Harry was so into Draco as not to worry about the scars, but yes, later, he'll probably have to be propped up.

            Night the Storyteller: Yes, the Malfoys should talk to Harry. He'll be very disappointed if it turns out that they just went ahead and attacked the Dursleys without telling them, since he doesn't really want them hurt.
- 41
- 42
- 43
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

The Marriage of True Minds