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Honour Bound	By : Draeconin Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 42041 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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-Chapter 1
- 2-Ch. 2
- 3-Ch. 3
- 4-Ch. 4
- 5-Ch. 5
- 6-Ch. 6
- 7-Ch. 7
- 8-Ch. 8
- 9-Ch. 9
- 10-Ch. 10
- 11-Ch. 11
- 12-Ch. 12
- 13-Ch. 13
- 14-Ch. 14
- 15-Ch. 15
- 16-Ch. 16
- 17-Ch. 17
- 18-Ch. 18
- 19-Ch. 19
- 20-Ch. 20
- 5
- 6
- 7
Honour Bound
by Draeconin

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details.

Chapter Six

Harry was getting more and more frustrated with his House. With very few exceptions, they were showing themselves to be narrow-minded, and in their own way, as bigoted as most pure-bloods were painted as being. Race or birth origin meant nothing to them, but Slytherins seemed to all be painted with the blackest of brushes, and for no other reason than that they were Slytherins. The fact that the headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, seemed to subtly encourage this viewpoint made it all the worse. Harry thought of going to Professor McGonagall, but while she didn't seem to participate in this nefarious attitude, neither did she seem to oppose it; all of which left Harry without a support system.
Even his best friends were affected. Well, Ron had always been that way, if Harry were to be honest with himself, but he'd expected more of Hermione. But while she seemed, on the surface, to be open minded, there were all these subtle overtones and undertones that he never seemed to notice until he ran their conversations over in his head later, as he lay in bed. There was always that subtle resistance that seemed to pop up; always questioning, always making him doubt himself.
But this past summer's experiences had given him a great deal of self-confidence. Instead of doubting himself now, he was questioning the motives of Hermione, and others who tried to stand in his way. Not that he was getting paranoid; sometimes he found the questions held merit. Still, he was getting very tired of having his every move questioned.
And now here he was, cooling his heels in the headmaster's office, after having been summoned for unknown reasons. The timing was rather suspicious, though. He'd just decided to do the bond transformation yesterday, and then the summons. He had a feeling that Hermione had decided to pass the responsibility. And this 'cooling off period' was designed to make him nervous, he was sure. All it made him, was bored. After talking with a few of the portraits of former headmasters for awhile, he noticed that the Sorting Hat's cupboard was standing open. Actually, he wouldn't have been aware it was the Sorting Hat's cupboard, if it hadn't been standing open, and he'd spotted the headgear. On a whim, he took it out and put it on, just to have 'someone' else to talk to.
"Well! Harry Potter, as I live and breathe! Or not, as the case may be," the Hat said, in an attempt at humour.
"Hello, Hat. It's been a long time," Harry replied, cheerfully.
"Ah, I see I was right, after all."
"What?"
"It was borderline back then, but you definitely should be a Slytherin, you know," the hat explained.
Harry shrugged. "A bit late, now, but I was wanting to talk-"
"So you admit it, then?" the Hat said, interrupting.
"You can see what's in my head, so you know I do. But it would cause too many problems, to switch houses," Harry replied, accepting the topic.
"You're Slytherin material, my boy," the hat replied. "You're being damaged, by being in the wrong House."
Harry shrugged again. "Like I sai-"
"I won't have it!"
That sudden, explosive exclamation from a well-known and hated voice had Harry tearing the Sorting Hat off his head, as he spun to face its source. "Professor Snape?" he exclaimed.
"I will not have you poisoning the minds of my Slytherins!" The potion master's face was flushed, his voice low, and almost threatening.
"Severus!" Professor Dumbledore remonstrated, one arm full of scrolls, from a small door, opposite. "I'm sure Harry would do no such thing."
"I won't have him in Slytherin House!" Snape insisted, his face slowly fading back to its usual sallow colouring.
"He's a Gryffindor; why should he be in the Slytherin living areas?"
Evidently the headmaster had missed all that had gone before the potion master's last outburst. Snape spluttered, almost speechless. "The bloody Hat just re-Sorted him!" he finally spat out.
"Nonsense! I'm sure you're mistaken, Severus. We don't re-Sort students." Focusing his attention on Harry for the first time, Dumbledore saw the battered, old, formerly conical hat in Harry's hands. "What are you doing with the Hat, Mr. Potter?"
"Just talking," Harry replied, trying to be very nonchalant as he turned to replace the hat in its cupboard.
"You see, Severus? Perfectly harmless," the headmaster said, cheerfully.
"Ask the bleeding Hat!"
The headmaster frowned at the directive, and the language, but put to him like that, he had no reasonable recourse but to accede to the demand. "Hat? Did Harry put you on?"
"Yes, and we had a lovely little chat, Headmaster," the hat replied.
"And Professor Snape's claim?"
Harry was muttering "Please don't," over and over again.
The Sorting Hat ignored him, this time. "Definitely Slytherin material, Headmaster. Could have gone either way, the first time; so then, I put him in the next best place for him, when he refused his rightful House."
"Next-best place, it says," Harry muttered, his head in his hands.
Snape, vindicated, was smirking at the dismayed headmaster, until he remembered what this would mean, and scowled. "I can't have him in the Slytherin dorms, Albus," he protested. "Someone could get severely hurt, or killed."
"It's unprecedented," the headmaster said absently, still in shock. "No one has ever been re-Sorted." Suddenly, he came back to the present. "No," he said decisively, "you're quite right, Severus. He's in the books as a Gryffindor, and a Gryffindor he shall... Oh, my. The book!" In a flurry of activity, he dumped the scrolls on his desk, then went over to a nearby bookcase and pulled out a heavy tome. Placing it, also, on his desk, he turned the pages quickly to the entries for this year, then to 'P', and then ran his fingers down the list of names until he reached Harry's. His shoulders sagged as he stared at the page, then raised his eyes to the potion master's. "It's been recorded. We have no recourse," he said, voice low.
"How could it be recorded?" Harry asked, dubiously. "It's only just now said anything!" he objected, referring to the Sorting Hat.
"This is the book from which we get the names of potential students. They just appear, if they're eligible. If they enlist, then when they're Sorted, the book updates itself. Other books keep track of scores, points, detentions, etc."
"And just because the Hat says so, the books all say I'm a Slytherin, now?" Harry had a feeling of hopeless outrage building. Once again, his life was being turned upside down.
"I'm afraid so, my boy," Dumbledore said, sadly. Snape had slipped gracefully into a chair. The fact that he was silent, spoke volumes.
"You do know that most of that House hates me?" Harry said, presenting arguments to prevent this event.
"And whose fault is that, Potter?" Snape sneered.
"I admit I mightn't have helped the situation, but both you and Draco must accept some responsibility, as well," Harry declared, glaring at the greasy-haired professor. "At any rate," he continued quickly, to prevent Snape's rejoinder, "moving into the Slytherin dorms would hardly be conducive to either my or Draco's health and well-being."
"No, you're quite right, Harry," Dumbledore replied. "However, you can no longer stay in Gryffindor Tower, either." He seemed lost in thought, his voice seeming vague and wandering, as he spoke.
"Severus," Dumbledore eventually said, slowly, "do you think that suite of rooms might be available?" His eyes were twinkling madly, now, as he looked at the greasy-haired man.
"What suite...?" Snape's eyes widened in comprehension. "No!" he denied. "You can't be thinking of... He's just a student!"
"He's a Marquis, Severus." Albus was smiling widely, now.
"You know as well as I that rank and title mean nothing while attending the school!" Snape retorted.
"True, but that rule was for the sons and daughters of the rulers; not the rulers themselves," Dumbledore argued, mildly.
"You're trying to wriggle around the rules, old man, and I won't have it! And Potter is no ruler!"
"Technically, he holds sway over most of the wizarding world, Severus."
"I'm still in the room, you know!" Harry interjected, forcefully. "If you're going to discuss me, you might let me know what you're going on about!"
"Your new accommodations, Harry," Albus replied.
"What's this about ruling most of the wizarding world?" Harry asked.
"Not a thing, Potter; the peerage no longer holds that kind of power," Snape sneered.
"Perhaps they should," Harry replied, just to poke at the obnoxious man, "at least as a system of checks and balances."
Snape opened his mouth to give a biting reply, then a thoughtful looks came over his face, and he closed it again. Then he shook his head, and said "No. It would never work."
"You took me seriously?" Harry asked, amazed.
Snape looked at Harry thoughtfully, and for once, with a minimum of disdain, then turned to the headmaster. "We can see if the rooms will accept him, anyway," he said.
"Accept me? What are you talking about?" Harry said, frustration plain in his voice. He was ignored.
"'Rightful House'," Snape muttered.

o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o
Harry was pacing rapidly back and forth, swearing up a storm; literally, although he wasn't aware of it at the time. Clouds were piling up, outdoors. Draco was just sitting on his bed, watching, an inscrutable expression on his face. When Harry finally wound down, and sat down, Draco looked at him. "And what, pray tell, was that all about?"
"The fucking bloody Sorting Hat decided my life wasn't screwed up enough, and re-Sorted me!" Harry swore, disgustedly. "Your effing Head of House heard it, and that idiot, Dumbledore, is going to make me do it!"
"Would it be presumptuous of me to remind you that language like that is not appropriate to your station?" Draco ventured.
Harry looked at him, an expression of disgust on his face. "No, but it is piss-poor timing," he replied.
Draco didn't acknowledge that, asking instead "Could you start at the beginning? Like how you came to put the hat on in the first place?"
When Harry was through recounting the tale, Draco had yet another observation. "And Dumbledore never got around to talking about what he summoned you there for in the first place?"
Harry's head snapped up, eyes blazing. "No; he didn't," he said, his voice full of repressed violence. "And if he hadn't left me cooling my heels in the first place, none of this would have happened. I'm in bloody Slytherin!" He glanced over at the blonde. "And what are you smirking about?"
Draco's smirk grew wider. "Rather ironic, isn't it?"
Harry grinned, suddenly, surprising the blonde. "It is, really," he admitted. "Escaping that House by the skin of my teeth, fighting with it - you, really - for years, only to wind up in it, anyway."
Draco was frowning, confused. "What do you mean, you 'escaped' Slytherin?"
Harry's cheeks coloured. "Um... The Hat wanted to put me there, first year," he admitted, sheepishly. "Evidently I was a borderline case between it and Gryffindor, so when I asked it not to put me there..."
For once, Draco's expression was unguarded, as he observed 'The Boy Who Lived' with pure disbelief. "You just - asked - to be put in another House," he said evenly, "and the bloody Sorting Hat listened to you."
"Well... Yes."
"Do you do anything normally, Potter?"
Harry's facial colour deepened, then he gave a cheeky grin. "Not many," he replied. "I'm even 'marrying' a boy."
"It's not a love match, Potter," Draco replied coolly, but his reddened cheeks were saying something else. Actually, his emotions were quite confused. He knew Harry was interested in him sexually, but he wasn't sure what the Gryffindor's feelings were for him. Was it just lust? He knew his own feelings had been just lust, but now, while he wasn't ready to say that he was even fond of Harry Potter, he was definitely interested in exploring the possibilities of a more in-depth relationship. The fact that they had been thrown together, and the nature of that relationship, were complicating factors, however, even if one were to disregard their past history; which he couldn't. At least... Well, maybe. He kept forgetting that the Harry Potter he used to know, had changed, and this new one was a better match. If he were to consider making a match, that is, which he wasn't. Was he? His body seemed to think so, at any rate. He adjusted himself.
Draco changed the subject, to get his mind off that particular line of thought. "Well, at least you're not a goofy, goody-goody Gryffindor any longer, Potter."
"Nice alliteration," Harry commented, dully. That particular fact, that he was no longer a Gryffindor, was going to become a major complication in his life. He was sure of it.
A thought hit Draco. "Um... Harry... He's not going to allow you - us - to continue living here. Is he?" It was more a statement of dread, than anything, which was confirmed when Harry shook his head negatively. "He can't be thinking of moving us to the Slytherin dorms?" His relief was palpable when Harry again shook his head. "So where...?"
Harry frowned. "They wouldn't tell me. We're being collected after supper."
Draco's developing frown matched Harry's. "Why the mystery?"
Harry shrugged. "They made mention of the rooms needing to accept me first," he said.
Draco's eyes widened perceptibly, but Harry wasn't watching, and didn't see. So when the blonde said "Those rooms?" the snap of his head as he turned to look at Draco, was almost audible.
"You know? Which rooms, then?" Harry asked, intently.
Draco shook his head. "There may be other suites - it would be unlikely that there wouldn't be - but..." He looked at Harry. "It would have to be either one of the suites belonging to one of the founders, or the one set aside for visiting royalty. Those are the only ones I can think of that might have that sort of security."
Harry stared at his bond slave. "You know where they are?"
Draco shook his head. "I've only ever heard stories of them."
"You don't even know, then, whether they truly exist or not?"
"Not really," Draco admitted grudgingly, "but I've never heard even rumours of anything else in the castle that might have security like that."
Harry pulled his own hair fiercely, in frustration, then slumped. "Let's go to dinner. We still have classes, and then we'll need to pack."
"Have the house elves do it," Draco suggested, with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
Harry nodded. "Good idea."
Despite himself, Draco felt a surge of pride, that Harry had complimented him, then was disgusted with himself for taking pleasure for so insignificant an accomplishment.
"Parflak!" Harry called. Although he'd have preferred Dobby or Winky, Parflak was the house elf that was taking care of the boys dorm rooms this week, in Gryffindor Tower. Except for the kitchen elves, all the Hogwarts elves rotated duties, so none were stuck dealing with people or jobs that were too onerous, for too long. The kitchen elves didn't do so because their duties required more than physical labour; they required a knowledge of human cuisine, and how to prepare it.
"Mr. Potter, sir?"
Harry jumped, not having heard the elf pop in. In fact, since he'd been listening for it, that fact puzzled him. "I didn't hear you arrive, Parflak?"
The elf's green skin darkened. Was it blushing? "Sorry, Mr. Potter, sir," it replied, not offering an explanation.
Draco, also, was eyeing the elf with suspicion. "You don't actually need to make that 'popping' sound when you pop in and out, do you?" the blonde accused.
"Parflak new to serving humans, Mr. Malfoy, sir. Parflak sorry not to announce his arrival, sir," the elf said, groveling.
'Announcing their arrival and departure?' Harry thought. 'That makes sense.' "No, that's alright, Parflak," Harry said aloud. "But I do have a task for you. It seems... Oh, do get off the floor; it wasn't that bad!" When the elf had pulled himself together, Harry continued. "It seems that I'm to be moved from Gryffindor Tower. Draco will be coming with me. We need you to pack our belongings, carefully, and then leave them until we know where in the castle we'll be. Can you do that for us?"
"Oh, yes, gracious master! Thank you for not punishing Parflak, Mr. Potter, sir!" and he kept going on in that vein, for far too long.
The elf's effusiveness was rapidly becoming annoying. Draco's patience ended before Harry's.
"Oh, pull yourself together, before I punish you!" the blonde snapped. Harry didn't say anything, but he did raise an eyebrow at him. Draco looked him straight in the eye, not backing down an inch. Technically, he was within his rights, unless Harry decided to take it away.
"I'd prefer you didn't, Draco," Harry replied to that look.
It wasn't an order, but it almost felt like one, to Draco. But testing his will, he found that his slave bond hadn't interpreted it as an order, so he relaxed.
Dinner was beef sandwiches on freshly baked, whole-wheat bread, and a thick potato soup flavoured with onions, and American-style bacon.
Lessons went fairly well, save for the occasional taunt or insult - most aimed at Draco - and these came from people from all four Houses.
After classes were over for the day, he caught up Hermione, Draco in tow.
"So, Hermione; are you going to do that bond conversion for us?" Harry asked, to Hermione's evident surprise.
"Didn't you talk to the headmaster?" she asked, confused.
Harry looked at her, acting as though he had no idea what she was going on about. "He saw me this morning, yes; but what has that to do with my question?"
"He didn't say anything about it?"
Harry frowned, continuing the charade. "Why should he? How would he... Did you talk to him about it?" He was having a grand time, leading her on.
Hermione gathered herself, putting on a bold front. "As a matter of fact, I did. I don't think it's such a good idea, Harry."
He shrugged, and almost lost his composure when he saw Draco wink at him over the bushy-haired girl's shoulder. He controlled his laughter, however. "Well, he mustn't have thought it important, at all. We talked of other things."
"What could be...!" Hermione stopped her outburst. "He didn't mention it at all?" she continued, more calmly.
Harry shrugged again. "Not a word! But you know, if you're so against it, I'm not sure I could trust you to do it correctly, Hermione," he said in a hurt tone. "And I'm not sure..." He stopped, and looked at Draco. He hadn't discussed this with him, but he hoped the blonde would play along. "Blaise is still your friend, isn't he, Draco? Do you think he'd do the bond conversion for us?"
He could see Draco's familiar blank mask fall into place. "I'm sure he would," he said, firmly. "He's not as good as Granger, but I'm sure he could manage."
"Don't you think for one minute I don't know what you're doing, Harry Potter!" Hermione said, flouncing a bit. "But if you're that dead set on this... Alright. I'll do it. I wouldn't trust anyone else not to foul it up, and put you two in the same body!"
Harry looked at her, wide-eyed. "That could happen?"
Hermione smirked. "No, but who knows what could happen if it were fouled up?" she purred, sweet, but deadly poison in her tone.
"Is there anything special you need, or can you do it now?" Harry asked. He wanted it done before anyone found out that he'd been Sorted out of Gryffindor, or where he had been placed - especially Hermione. He had no idea how she'd react to that news, and didn't want to take the chance that she'd refuse to help a pair of Slytherins.
Hermione gave him a suspicious frown. "Why the rush?"
Harry thought quickly. "The less time Draco's under this slave bond, the less chance of his will being eaten away," he replied, reasonably. Draco gave him a slight nod, showing his approval.
The young woman continued to look at him for a few more moments, then nodded. "Dried rose petals, rosemary, willow leaf, and a stone bowl," she said. "The Room of Requirement should provide everything needed, though."
Just to be on the safe side, Harry decided to activate the room himself, concentrating on needing all the supplies for a bond transformation, as well as a suitable environment. Although he believed he could still trust Hermione not to do anything that would harm him, or even Draco, he wasn't so sure that she mightn't ask for an environment to try to dissuade him. And while he had no idea what that might be, he knew that the wrong frame of mind might distort the magic.
The view, when they entered, surprised all of them.
"Harry?" Draco queried. "Is this what you had in mind?"
Harry shook his head. "I just asked for a suitable environment," he said, his voice sounding somewhat awed.
It was a lush forest glade, the breeze scented with the perfume of many sorts of wildflowers. At one end was a deep, clear pool, with a swiftly moving stream leading up to it, which ended in a three-foot waterfall that poured into it. At the other end of the pool was a wide, flat rock. A rather deep depression in it made a natural bowl, and shallow scoops in other areas had caught leaves, flower petals, and other detritus. Upon closer inspection, that 'detritus' turned out to be the material needed for the short ceremony that would transform the bond between the two boys. There, each caught in its own depression, were the rose petals, rosemary, and willow leaves. But there were two other depressions as well, one containing mugwort, and the other, three feathers, each distinct from the other. Harry recognized one of them as being a phoenix feather, having been around Fawkes often enough to make the identification. The other two were unfamiliar, but obviously from different sorts of birds. A light breeze was blowing, and small frogs could be heard chirping.
Hermione took charge. "Harry, you take the right, or dexter position, and Draco, you take the left, or sinister, position."
"Was that supposed to funny, Granger?" Draco asked threateningly, with a scowl.
The girl sighed exasperatedly. "No, Malfoy, it's-"
"I don't have a surname any longer, Granger. It's just 'Draco'," Draco interrupted, annoyed with not only being reminded of the fact, but that Granger knew that, had been reminded of it before, and still managed to call him by his former surname on a regular basis.
"Fine! Draco! And no, it wasn't a poke at you. Harry has the strong position - the dexter position - because he's your master. There's only one other position, isn't there?"
"You don't want to antagonize her now, Draco," Harry put in.
Draco scowled again, but moved to take the indicated spot. "Why the other two ingredients?" he asked, suspiciously.
It was Hermione's turn to scowl. "I don't know," she said, hating to admit ignorance. "But we only need the three, so that's what we'll use." She took up small portions each of the rose petals, rosemary, and willow leaves, and put them in the larger, deeper depression, then reached into a pocket in her school robes, and withdrew a parchment, which she unfolded. "When I've finished the incantation, take each other's hands over the bowl - depression - whatever. The leaves should ignite. Don't let go; it won't burn. If you do let go... Well, I'm not sure what will happen if the magic's interrupted, but all that energy has to go somewhere, so it probably won't be good. Do you understand?"
Both young men were looking very nervous, now, although both were also trying to hide it, but they nodded their heads. Hermione nodded her head too, once, sharply, determination obvious in her demeanour. Then she closed her eyes. Harry and Draco looked at the vegetation in the bowl-like depression. When Hermione opened her eyes, the irises had changed colours to a silvery green; but neither boy, lost in his own thoughts, noticed.
Hermione's voice started incanting a spell in a language neither knew. After a few moments, they looked each other in the eyes, and just stared at each other, each wondering how this would change their relationship. The breeze picked up, little eddies and miniature whirlwinds making their appearance - and unnoticed by them, emptying all of the herbs and petals, as well as the mugwort and the feathers, from the small depressions, and into the natural bowl.
Finally Hermione stopped speaking. It was time for their part, although all they had to do was hold hands while a cold, magical fire burned. They reached out, and firmly took hold of each other's hands. The material in the bowl glowed, then a column of blue flame shot up. But instead of just burning around their wrists and hands, it clung to them, and rapidly spread up their arms. Although painless, this behaviour was totally unexpected, and instinctively, both young men leapt back from the stone. At least they tried to. They had been warned to not let go of each other. They hadn't been told they wouldn't be able to. The flame kept spreading rapidly, reaching their shoulders in just a couple of seconds.
"Hermione!" Harry shouted, triggering Draco's own efforts to get the girl's attention. Despite their clamouring, Hermione didn't move, standing there as still as a statue. Now the flame had reached their faces, so they closed their eyes and mouths, hoping by that action that they wouldn't be damaged, but soon had to breathe. To their surprise, they were able to breathe without interference or complications from the magical flames, and there was no pain. Soon both young men stood there, completely covered with blue flames. The bowl in the stone kept spewing them forth for another five minutes before they died down, at which time the flames on the boys also died out, leaving them and their clothing unharmed.
During this ordeal, both had felt a strong tingling of energy moving over, around, through, and between their bodies. Shortly after that sensation halted, Harry opened one eye a slit. Finding the flames gone, he tried again to let go of Draco's hands - and this time, he was successful. Draco opened his eyes when he felt his hands dropped.
"What the hell was that, Hermione?" Harry raged at his friend.
Hermione opened her eyes, looked at the both of them, gave a slight smile, and collapsed.

o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o

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Honour Bound