Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Freedom Bound in Chains	By : TaintedSensibly Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 58477 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Harry Potter characters. I did not make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 78
- 79
- 80
The Secrets of the Stone
Draco watched Harry as they slowly ate their breakfast trays. Pomfrey would release them after they finished eating as again she could find no residue of magic or anything physically wrong with him. Honestly, Draco was more concerned about his boy.
- Confusion worry - filled their bond with static. Harry’s shoulders were slumped forward. Exhaustion hung around his too skinny frame. Any glimpse of Harry’s eyes, behind a shield of wavy bangs and glasses, revealed a dull green ringed in dark circles. Draco couldn’t really remember the attacks, but Harry wasn’t so lucky.
Draco tried imagining their roles being switched - of finding Harry banging his head against the wall hard enough to splatter the tile with blood - and his gut curled with helpless fury. In fact, as bad as his boy looked, Draco was actually surprised Harry wasn’t worse. He wasn’t clinging to Draco or panicking. Something else was going on…
“Harry,” he said, low and demanding.
Harry looked up attentively before looking around the infirmary. They were alone, but Harry still frowned and shook his head. Draco mirrored his frown. Whatever Harry had to say couldn’t be said where they might be overheard.
“Draco! Harry!” Hermione appeared at the doorway and hurried over, a thick book clutched to her chest. She’d been free of her cane for a few days and liked to rush wherever she went now that she was able to. Neville trailed behind her, red in the face and panting. “I’ve found it! I know I’ve found it.”
Draco reached eagerly for the book. “Let me see.”
She shook her head, stepping back. “I want to confirm it with Hagrid first. Let’s go during lunch.”
Draco frowned. He didn’t want Harry missing lunch. Healing him in the bathroom had taken a lot of energy without Draco’s magic bolstering him, but this was equally important. Draco was convinced everything would get better once they destroyed whatever it was that Dumbledore was protecting.
“Fine,” he said, giving in. Maybe Hagrid would have something for Harry to eat. Hopefully something besides rock cakes.
…
Harry tried to focus. He really did, but their first class was their DADA practical with the Slytherins. As usual, his scar burned as soon as he stepped inside the classroom. A low throbbing headache beat behind his eyes. The overwhelming smell of garlic didn’t help. Professor Quirrell had them line up, one House facing the other, in the center with about five feet separating them. All the tables and benches had been stacked precariously in the corner of a room with magic.
Harry squinted past his headache and saw that he was opposite Vince. He gave a small, aborted wave as he met the other boy’s blank expression. Next to him, Draco faced Pansy. She didn’t look coldly detached like Vince; she looked venomous. A quick glance at Draco’s faced revealed the blond was calm and unbothered. Harry wondered if that meant Pansy wasn’t really mad or if it meant Draco didn’t care about her anymore.
At the professor’s signal, they began firing the Kickback Jinx at each other. It was the one spell that doxies were vulnerable to, a common Wizarding pest. Harry felt Vince’s spell as a gentle shove against his shoulders and he took one step backward. Returning to position, he fired the same jinx back. Vince barely moved.
Vince’s next jinx had him failing his arms a bit to keep his footing. Harry couldn’t protect Draco like this. He was useless trash, a burden. Tears burning his eyes, he took a firm step forward, remembered his determination to be of use to Draco, and fired off the jinx.
Vince was shoved right off his feet. He slid backward, coming up against the opposite wall with a soft thud. The room instantly became quiet, all eyes turning to Harry. He tucked his chin, heart pounding. He wanted to duck his head, to cower and grovel… I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you! … but his Mask was firmly in place.
They were in class, in public. Draco’s rules closed around him, a guiding light in the chaotic darkness. They held him upright even as his heart pounded. Harry stared across at his friend, watching with paralyzed fear as the bigger boy pushed up into a sitting position. Vince’s blue eyes were wide as they stared back at him.
Harry looked desperately into Draco’s warm, grey eyes. He felt the anxiety clawing up his throat slowly subside as Draco held his gaze, unwavering. Harry was peripherally aware of Quirrell walking toward him.
“P-P-Potter. Try a-a-and m-modul-late your p-power.”
Harry instinctively gripped his robes over his side. The pounding behind his eyes suddenly felt like something stabbing him straight through his brain. The professor walked past him without further comment, telling the class to continue. Harry’s shoulders relaxed.
Draco tilted his head toward the other side of the room. Harry obediently turned his attention back to his partner to see Vince standing at the ready, back in position. He looked none the worse for wear.
“Ready, Potter?”
The words and tone of voice were cool and detached, but Vince’s eyes were full of concern. Harry’s lips twitched up into a shaky smile before he lifted his chin, holding onto his Mask with all his might… I will be useful to Draco! … Sweat dampened his forehead and the back of his neck, but he managed to answer with a mostly even, “Ready.”
…
Draco took Harry by the hand as the bell signaled the end of class. Slipping into a shadowed corridor, Draco looked both ways before pulling Harry into a secret passage. Weeks of unrelenting attacks in the halls had made them both adept at fading into the background. They knew all the unused hallways and secret passages by heart. Harry’s headache slowly disappeared, smoothed away by each sweep of Draco’s thumb across the back of his hand.
“Don’t worry, Harry. They’re just playing their part,” Draco said softly as they walked. The passage grew narrow and they both had to turn sideways for several meters to slip through.
Harry said nothing. Ever since the troll attack Draco seemed incapable of understanding that it was Quirrell and not the class or the smell of garlic that gave him the headaches. He stared down at their clasped hands and held Draco’s a little tighter. More than ever Harry was certain that Quirrell had done something to Draco. Harry was determined to make sure Quirrell never touched Draco again.
They came out onto the first floor, which was mind boggling as they didn’t go down any stairs and the Defense classroom was on the third floor. A nearby door let them out of the castle in a courtyard. Overhead, the sky was a cloudy grey; sunlight falling weakly down on them. The breath of winter bit at their skin.
“What couldn’t you tell me in the infirmary?” Draco asked, attention sharp on Harry as they reached into their bags and pulled out black mittens before tugging them on.
Harry instinctively looked around, but they were alone. They stood in the shadow of the castle still a good bit away from where they met for Xylomancy. He reached out and pulled Draco by the hand even closer to the castle wall before undoing his robe. His soft gloves slid against his skin as he untucked his shirt and pushed it and his sweater up to reveal his side. Harry shivered as the cold air touched his warm stomach.
Draco’s eyes narrowed. The silver dragon embedded under Harry’s skin looked… dangerous. It’s head was lowered, sharp teeth glistening and bared. Green eyes slitted, a look of deadly fury was etched on its face. Its scales seemed more spiky than normal; it’s claws flexed. Its muscles were etched and taunt. The tip of its outstretched tail flicked in agitation. As Draco watched, it arched its head back before snapping it forward with terrifying speed. Instinctively, Draco cupped his hand over the mark he'd placed on Harry’s skin and flicked his eyes up to meet Harry’s.
“Whatever is happening to you,” Harry said softly, - faith love - filling the bond with sparkling light, “your magic’s fighting it. You’re fighting it.” He looked into Draco’s surprised eyes and gave a fierce smile of his own. “That means you’re going to beat it.”
Suddenly breathless, throat tight with too much emotion, Draco pressed Harry against the stone wall and kissed him deeply. His mittened hands sank into Harry’s hair. His tongue lapped forward, penetrating Harry’s mouth with slow, deep strokes.
Harry opened to him easily - lovelovelove. Draco may be kissing Harry breathless, but it was Draco who was overwhelmed. No one had ever believed in him or loved him the way Harry did. That absolute faith in Draco’s ability and choices healed unseen fractures in Draco’s broken soul, made him want to clutch Harry to him and melt them into one.
Wet, slick lips parted, connected by a string of saliva. Draco panted against his boy’s mouth. He wanted to mark and bend and consume, but class would start soon and he didn’t want another detention for being tardy. Instead he grinned, fierce and strong, as he took in Harry’s flushed cheeks and slightly askew glasses.
With gentle fingers, he set the black frames right and ruffled Harry’s hair. “We’ll finish this later,” he promised, voice low.
Harry shivered, dazed, and obediently answered, “Yes, Draco.”
…
By the time class finished and they made their way to Hagrid’s hut, the sky was an even darker grey as clouds beginning to gather. It wasn’t quite cold enough to snow, but it was cold enough that if it rained it would feel like ice. December was only a week away. They wore their warmest robes, thickest socks, pants, shirts, and sweaters. Knitted red hats sat on Hermione and Neville’s heads, Hermione’s hair puffing out around her neck as the hat forced it downward, while Draco carefully wrapped a red and gold scarf around Harry’s neck.
“Hagrid!” Draco called, his breath a cloud on the air. He could see the light of a bright fire through the window.
Loud, excited barking startled them into stepping back as Fang went nuts on the other side of the door. They waited several long seconds, but the door didn’t look to be opening any time soon. They couldn’t hear anything over Fang. The four of them exchanged curious looks.
“Maybe he’s working?” Neville suggested.
“Without Fang?” Draco countered, eyebrows lowered ominously. He wanted to know what Hermione had found out. His patience was wearing thin.
“With such a big fire going?” Hermione frowned at the offending door. “Magic or no, you shouldn’t leave such a thing unattended.”
“Hagrid!” Harry called and waved his hand above his head. He was looking in the direction of the forest and the others turned to see the huge man stepping from the trees.
“Arry! Draco!” their friend boomed as soon as he was close enough. He was smiling happily through his beard. “What are you doin’ ‘ere?”
Draco gave a charming smile and elbowed Hermione before she could launch right into her suspicions. “We came for a visit. It’s kind of cold. Mind if we come in?”
Hagrid actually hesitated, which made Draco grin triumphantly. He knew something was up! He shifted his feet, subtly bumping Harry’s shoulder. On cue, Harry shivered dramatically and blew on his mittened hands, eyes wide and innocent as he looked up at the big man. Hagrid instantly caved and they were ushered inside the blazingly hot cabin.
Hermione and Neville were introduced to the gentle giant of a man and were directed to the rickety table. There weren’t enough seats, so Neville sat on a crate while Hermione got a stool. Harry shared Draco’s chair, half in the blond’s lap. Almost immediately they shed their gloves, hats, and robes. By the time Hagrid got them tea and cake (thankfully from Hogwarts’ kitchen and not made by Hagrid), they had shed their sweaters, too.
Hagrid wasn’t known for being subtle. He had a simple, earnest mind, so he was painfully obvious as he tried to hide something he had placed dangerously close to the roaring flame in the fireplace. Predictably Hermione warned Hagrid about fire-safety and asked what the lump was. It turned out to be a dragon egg wrapped in flame repellant rags so it could be as close to the fire as possible without actually burning.
“Hagrid!” Hermione cried, scandalized. “Dragons are triple-X marked creatures. It’s illegal to bred or hatch them!”
“The Ministry just don’ understand, is all,” Hagrid argued, posture sheepish. “Dragons are seriously misunderstood creatures. Sweet things, they are.”
Hermione took a visibly deep breath and tried to apply some reason to the situation. “Where will it grow up? It needs to be with its kind, Hagrid. You don’t want it to be unhappy and alone, do you?”
Hagrid fussed with his egg, expression stubborn.
“We actually came because Hermione had something to ask you,” Draco intervened. He knew the man wouldn’t budge on the dragon issue. At least, not yet.
Hermione gave Draco an unimpressed look. She flipped her bushy hair over her shoulder. “What can you tell me about the Sorcerer’s Stone?”
Hagrid’s head whipped around, his eyes wide. “How’d ya hear about tha’?”
Draco gave a slow, predatory smile that surprisingly didn’t look out of place on his young face. “It’s just an innocent question. We’re learning about all sorts of things at school.”
Hagrid shifted nervously as he stood, the forbidden egg forgotten momentarily. “That’s between Nicolas Flamel and Headmaster Dumbledore. You shouldn’ go lookin’ into things above your keen.”
Hermione opened her book and pointed to a place on the page. “It says that it grants immortality as well as turning any metal to pure gold.”
Draco looked at the girl intently before shifting his laser gaze to Hagrid. Immortality? His heart thundered in his chest and he instinctively held Harry tighter. The Dark Lord was after something that could grant him immorality?
“Things get exaggerated,” Hagrid said with a reassuring smile. “Don’t go believin’ everythin’ ya read.”
“How so?” Hermione demanded as if personally offended on her book’s behalf. “Flamel is nearing seven hundred years old! He’s still alive, so it must be true!”
Hagrid shook his head. “There’s no such thing as immortal life, ‘Ermione. Headmaster Dumbledore explained it t’me. Said Flamel’s just slowin’ things down, drawin’ things out.”
“Still…” Hermione’s expression was a picture of doubt.
“Now, don’ worry about anythin’. Headmaster Dumbledore’s a great wizard. He’ll keep the stone safe. Even gave him Fluffy to help guard it. No one’s gettin’ by my Fluffy.”
“Fluffy?” Draco vividly remembered terrifying barks filling the closed off third-floor corridor. “What is Fluffy exactly?”
Hagrid blinked at him. “I shouldn’a said that.”
“Come on, Hagrid,” Harry wheedled. He leaned forward and offered the big man a sweet smile, his green eyes bright behind his glasses. “If we know something strong is protecting the stone, we won’t worry about it as much.”
Hagrid considered that and eventually tipped his head in a nod. “Fluffy is a cerberus. Raised ‘em myself, I did. He’s a good, loyal pup. He’ll take a piece outta anyone tryin’ to break in. So you don’ gotta worry about nothin’.”
Neville and Harry stared wide-eyed at this while Hermione and Draco shared a shocked look behind their backs. A cerberus?! In the school? It sounded crazy, but Draco had to admit it was a good protection. Well, at first glance anyway.
“Is a cerberus resistant against magic? What’s to stop someone from just killing it?” Draco asked with a frown.
Hagrid sat straighter from his kneeling position next to the egg and fire. “The kind’a magic it takes to kill Fluffy would send up all sorts of alarms.”
“And there’s no way around Fluffy without killing him?” Draco persisted.
“Well…” Hagrid twirled a lock of his beard almost nervously. “I might’a put ‘em to sleep as a pup with a lullaby, so now whenever he ‘ears some music, he goes right to sleep. But no one could possibly know that!” Seeing the troubled looks on the kids’ faces, Hagrid hurried to continue. “An’ even if they figured it out, Fluffy’s not the only protection! Headmaster Dumbledore asked each Head of House to come up with a defense, plus Headmaster Dumbledore put some kind’a protection up himself! So I don’ want ya thinkin’ on this one more minute! The stone’s safe. No one’s gonna use it for bad purposes. Not on our watch.”
Of course this just opened up a hundred more questions, but the big bell in the tower rang a low note, signaling the end of lunch. If they were going to make it to Transfiguration, they were going to have to hurry.
Hagrid seemed relieved to see them go, to be honest, as they donned their winter clothes and said hasty goodbyes. As they jogged across the grounds, Draco’s mind raced, trying to guess the protections Sprout, Flitwick, and McGonagall would have created. It made him feel deeply sick to think Snape had created a barrier. Did that mean Snape knew about the other protections already?
Before Draco could panic, he had to remind himself that if Snape could get to the stone that easily, he would have already. Fluffy had seemed to have stopped Snape cold on Halloween night. That meant that while Dumbledore had asked each Head of House plus Hagrid for a defense, he likely hadn’t shared what those defenses were. In any case, Flitwick was a crafty genius and there was no love lost between Snape and McGonagall; Draco would just have to hope that at least those two would be able to at least slow Snape down.
Distracted by his thoughts, Draco hadn’t been paying as close attention to the hallway. They were just turning onto the Transfiguration corridor and passed a group of six Gryffindor students. Draco flinched, seeing the pointing wand from the corner of his eye. Harry moved as if to shield him with his body, but Draco’s hand clamped down, keeping Harry out of the line of fire.
His skin burst into a deep, pervading ache, growing tight. Draco staggered as he felt something wet slide down his cheek, forehead, and chin. The group of kids weren’t much older than them and they burst into laughter. Draco glared, flushing in angry embarrassment.
“Flipendo!”
The call of the Knockback Jinx was said with such fury, it shoved four of the center kids hard enough for their heads to whip forward and then slam back when their bodies collided with the wall. The laughter disappeared to be replaced by cries of shock and pain. Draco stared at Harry, who stood with his wand out and extended, expression fierce, and felt a wave of smug satisfaction.
“What is going on here?”
They all turned to see that McGonagall had arrived. Her pinched features, tight bun, and silver glasses seemed more severe than normal as she stood tall, arms crossed over her small chest.
“Potter attacked us!” one of the boys cried, pointing a shaking finger at Harry.
McGonagall’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “It is quite clear, Mr. McLaggen, that you were dueling in this hallway and Mr. Potter got the best of you. Do not imply you were attacked without reason in a cowardly attempt to escape punishment. You are a Gryffindor. I expect some show of bravery… Even if it must be faked.”
The boy looked close to tears; McGonagall’s voice and words cut sharply.
“You may have forgotten, but dueling in the corridors is forbidden, Mr. McLaggan. You and your friends will serve a week of detentions for forgetting this simple rule. Now get out of my sight immediately.”
The four boys who hit the wall got shakily to their feet, likely suffering massive headaches. Their two friends helped them and soon they were gone and the corridor was empty. The bell in the tower rang, but McGonagall didn’t seem to be concerned by being tardy.
“I’m afraid that jinx can’t be removed by a spell, Mr. Malfoy,” she said in a matter-of-fact way, the anger lifting from her voice. “You will have to go to Madam Pomfrey for a potion.”
Draco tentatively touched his face and felt extremely sore bumps covering the surface of his skin. Just touching them made more liquid seep out. It had a gritty, oily feeling. It was disgusting and his whole face hurt, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. “I’ll go after class,” he decided. They had Flying next and it wasn’t like he needed to learn about that. He got enough instruction when he attended Quidditch practice.
McGonagall inclined her head and turned on her heel.
“Looks like they used the Pimple Jinx,” Hermione informed him, wincing at the red, swollen, and weeping sores all over Draco’s face. One had made his eye swell half-shut.
Draco didn’t much care what spell they had used, only that in a few hours the effects would be gone. They took their seats in class, Draco earning whispers and a few snickers at his disfigured face, which he ignored.
“You did good, Harry,” he whispered as they took out their textbooks and notebooks.
- guilt protective - “I should have been faster,” he confessed, staring into Draco’s eyes sadly.
Draco gave him a smile, making more things on his face pop and ooze painfully. “This is nothing,” he assured the boy. “It looks worse than it is. You did great, Harry. They won’t mess with me again for a while.”
Harry nodded, but Draco could tell he still wasn’t happy with the way it had played out. “I think I found a ward that is simple enough that I can cast it and it will still protect you. I found it yesterday before…” Harry trailed off. Finding Draco in the bathroom still haunted him.
Draco felt cold, knowing exactly what Harry couldn’t say. He couldn’t remember what happened in that bathroom, so he had no idea who had cursed him. It hadn’t been a simple Pimple Jinx, that was for sure. “Show me later tonight,” he whispered and turned his attention to McGonagall as she started class.
…
Harry went with Draco to see Madam Pomfrey. Hermione offered to join them, but Draco insisted she go to Flying class. The girl hated to fly, but it was a basic skill that could come in handy later. Harry fretted over the stains the boils and pimples had made on Draco’s clothes. He really hoped the elves could get it out. That sweater was Draco’s favorite!
The potion Madam Pomfrey gave Draco worked. Within twenty minutes the swelling went down, the ooze dried up, and Draco was looking normal. They had the dorms to themselves and a few hours before dinner, so Harry started right away on warding Draco’s clothes as Draco went to take a shower.
Harry decided to start on Draco’s school robes first since he wore those most often. Laying the black robes out on the floor, Harry sat cross-legged and pointed his wand sharply down. Latin and Greek spilled from his lips. The book he had found described the spell phonically, so he was pretty confident he would get it right. Especially with the tutoring he had been provided by Narcissa.
His fingers grew warm, as if he dipped them in warm honey. As he chanted, golden threads appeared in the shape of the warding: squiggles and loops, blocks and runes. Protect Draco… Some corner of Harry’s mind remembered images of Draco falling, skin scrapped and bleeding, feet jerking and kicking, hitting his head against the floor or door frames, bruises blooming on soft pale skin, food turned rotten in his mouth, exploding toilets and Draco covered in filth, mean laughter, rejection…
His goal burned bright at the center of his mind… Protect Draco… and slowly the burning sensation rose higher, covering his hand, then wrist, then forearm. The golden threads covered the inside of the robe from shoulders to mid-back. The hot honey sensation reached his biceps when Draco touched him on the top of his head.
Harry gasped, his arm falling slack. His hair hung heavy and damp. Sweat soaked his face and shirt. He looked up at Draco, a plea on his lips… Let me finish! … but Draco shook his head firmly.
“It’s time for dinner. You need a break, Harry,” he said and there was no room for argument in that tone.
Harry looked down at his work. The golden threads seemed to shimmer with magic. It looked the way the book described, so he must be doing it right. Sighing regretfully, he stood. The room dipped and swayed, and he would have fallen accept for Draco grabbing his arm.
“You will eat everything I put on your plate,” Draco told him.
Harry nodded obediently and followed Draco down to the kitchen, resigned to feeling overstuffed. They still couldn’t eat in the Great Hall without their food being cursed to taste disgusting. His mind was far away, still back on the warding. Draco had three school robes, plus half-a-dozen sweaters, double that in t-shirts and button-downs, three slacks, and five jeans. And that wasn’t even counting his dress clothes. It would take Harry weeks to ward them all, but he was determined.
Draco eyed his boy carefully. He noticed the color back in Harry’s face, the brightness of his eyes. The food had done wonders, but he knew Harry and could see how close he was to exhaustion. He also knew Harry wouldn’t rest unless he felt he had accomplished something. “You may finish the robe, but you won’t ward anything else tonight,” he ordered as they returned to the dorms.
Harry nodded - determined love protective. He understood Draco was just taking care of him, but one day he’d be strong enough that he wouldn’t have to stop after one robe.
Hermione and Neville had beat them back to the dorm room. Fortunately girls were able to come up to the boys’ side without problems, but only until curfew. After that, Hermione would get itchy and it would only get worse until she left.
“Harry, this is amazing!” Hermione praised. She was standing over the half-warded robe admiring the golden ward.
Harry blushed and ducked his head. He didn’t deserve it. It had taken him hours to do so little, but he knew what he was supposed to say. “Thank you.”
“What do you think about the defenses around the stone? Any ideas on how we can discover what they are?” Draco asked, purposefully drawing Hermione’s attention away from Harry. He knew the boy would be itching to start warding right away.
Draco sat at the desk they had brought up to their room with schoolwork laid out around him. He’d already finished their Transfiguration essay before dinner while Harry had worked on warding the robe. His boy was already cross-legged, his head bowed as he lifted his wand over the robe. His other hand raised over the material as if he were a conductor of a symphony.
“A few,” Hermione answered, pushing her bushy hair out of her face. She came to sit on the unused middle bed and faced Draco at the desk. Neville joined her. “They can’t be too deadly. They all have to have an out because the Headmaster will need to be able to check on the stone sometimes and such. He’ll need to be able to get to it to remove it when Mr. Flamel aggress to it it being destroyed.”
Draco grinned, fierce. “So we’ll be able to get around the protections, too.”
“If we can, so can Snape,” Hermione cautioned.
Draco scowled. He glanced at Harry, checking on him. It’d only been a few minutes, but already his skin glistened with sweat. “True,” he muttered darkly.
“So there’s a way around the defenses, but only if you know the weakness, like Fluffy’s reaction to music,” Hermione continued. “Otherwise they will seem impossible to beat.”
“We’ll need the weaknesses,” Neville concluded. “But how are we going to get them?”
“We’ll split up,” Draco decided. “Neville, you’ll need to somehow get info from Sprout. Make sure she doesn’t suspect you or anything.”
Neville looked horrified to be given such a big job.
“Hermione, do you want to tackle trying to McGonagall or Flitwick?”
“Flitwick,” Hermione answered confidently. “Sometimes being a girl can help get information from males.”
Draco nodded. “Harry and I will try to get something out of McGonagall and Snape, then.”
Plans in place, Hermione insisted they get homework done. They had essays and research and quizzes to study for. Not to mention in less than a month they’d have their first semester exams.
Harry sweated and chanted for over an hour, his arm slowly going warm again, this time to the shoulder, before he gasped, the ward completing with a snap of magic. Hermione and Neville crowded around him, touching the robe he held up with curious fingers.
“You can’t feel it,” Neville said in surprise.
“You can feel a bit of a tingle,” Hermione corrected. It didn’t feel like raised thread against her fingers, but there was a small spark of energy at her fingertips. She gave Harry a smile. “Good job, Harry.”
Draco wrapped an arm around Harry’s waist and gave him a hug. “Let me try it.”
Harry watched, holding his breath, as Draco slid the robe on and asked Hermione to cast a simple curse at him. The Jelly-Leg Jinx bounced off harmlessly. Neville cheered while Draco caught Harry up in a proper hug, kissing his cheek.
- proud happy love -
Chapter end.
A/N: Sorry for the long gaps between updates. I’m still struggling with pacing as well as just getting it written. I’m still not happy with it and the chapter is shorter than usual, but I have to keep pushing on. I don’t want to lose the story completely or drop it.
Thank you SO SO SO much for the helpful feedback and tips. You have no idea how much it helps! I know some of you have felt the lack of the recent chapters as much as I do. Bear with me. I feel like the end of this writer’s block is around the corner. I can feel the inspiration just beneath the surface!
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Freedom Bound in Chains