Bond

Chapter 8

October 24

Day 26, Saturday

"-told you, it's nothing-" Malfoy said, and Harry turned around, startled, as the privacy curtain swished open. Pomfrey was staring at Harry, an unreadable expression on her face.

"...yes?" he asked, when she'd been staring at him long enough to make him uncomfortable.

"Madam Pomfrey, it's all right," Malfoy said, coming out from behind the partition, holding his shirt in one hand, extremely annoyed. "He didn't hurt me."

"What?" Harry asked, baffled. "Hurt you?"

"She's 'concerned' about the bruises," Malfoy muttered, annoyed.

"What brui - oh. Oh." Harry felt himself turn crimson. It was amazing, he thought, just when it seemed like their situation couldn't possibly get any more embarrassing, it went and did.

"Yes, oh," Pomfrey said neutrally. "Mr. Malfoy insists that nothing serious happened. Nevertheless, I'm going to call Healer Esposito."

"For a few love-bites??" Malfoy was incredulous.

Harry cringed in his chair. In the bright light of the infirmary, Malfoy's neck did look rather... abused.

"Not just a few love-bites. Your back looks like you went a few rounds with an angry Veela."

"What?" Harry was puzzled. "I didn't scratch his back-"

"Not you, Potter, the bloody tree you were pushing me up against yesterday," Malfoy snapped. "She's got her knickers in a twist because-"

"Because we need to monitor you to make sure you don't hurt each other, Mr. Malfoy," Pomfrey said brusquely.

"It just got a little rough, that's all, it was all consensual-"

"And if this were an ordinary relationship that might be nobody's business but your own. But with your history, we're a little cautious about letting you two maul one another-"

"He didn't maul me-"

"I didn't-" Harry began, and Pomfrey gestured to him to come around behind Malfoy. Harry looked at Malfoy's back and gasped.

"Oh my god-" he said. "I'd no idea - Malfoy, why didn't you say-"

"Because I didn't mind, you git. I hardly even felt it. I'm not a girl, Potter, you don't have to treat me like I'm going to break. Believe me, if I don't like what you're doing, I'll tell you."

"But-"

"I am calling Healer Esposito," Pomfrey said firmly. She started to bustle off, then turned around, obviously not sure she should leave them alone together.

"Oh for god's sake," Malfoy snapped, "we won't jump on each other in the time it takes you to contact the Healer. Look, Potter'll keep his troll-man hands to himself on that bed, and I'll sit here on my tuffet eating curds and whey and stay far away from the big scary Gryffindor."

Harry ducked his head, profoundly embarrassed, as Pomfrey gave them another hard stare and went into her office.

"Merlin, this is ridiculous," Malfoy muttered.

Harry chewed on his lip, wondering if it was actually possible to get sunburn from blushing too hard.

"Oh, bloody hell, Potter, you're not actually thinking - yeah, you are." Malfoy threw his shirt back on and started to button up. "You didn't hurt me, you silly git," he said, exasperated.

"But Pomfrey-"

"Pomfrey's probably not snogged anyone in about a million years," Malfoy sneered. "You think Pansy's never left me with a few mementos? Or Helen, or any of the other girls I-"

"But I, I didn't mean to - but I wanted to hurt you, I was angry at you and I pushed you-"

"And I wanted you to."

Harry recoiled a little, repelled. "You mean, you're into - into that kind of, that, um-"

"That kind of... what?" Malfoy stared at him, puzzled. "You mean... like, pain games?" Harry dropped his eyes again and Malfoy laughed. "You're unbelievable, Potter. This," he gestured at his neck and back, "is not pain games. By any stretch of the imagination. This is just... not holding back, that's all. And we both needed that yesterday."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"We were pretty angry at each other, weren't we? And instead of turning that into a full-blown fight and doing real damage, we had a fantastic almost-shag and I ended up with some scratches that are making our elderly spinster of a school nurse a little nervous."

Put like that, it didn't seem that bad. Harry breathed a little easier.

"She's not elderly," he pointed out fairly.

"Potter." Malfoy put his hand on Harry's leg. "You didn't do anything wrong. Esposito'll probably laugh at Pomfrey for contacting her about it."

ooooooo

"I hope she doesn't crash," Harry said as he and Malfoy watched Healer Esposito flying towards them.

Pomfrey had informed them that the Healer would come to see them, but didn't want them to waste the day indoors waiting for her. They'd been told to go about their day as planned. Esposito would know where to meet them from the locating and monitoring charms embedded into the security portkeys they'd been given. And now here she was, a little past lunchtime, flying up to their lookout spot.

Harry closed his textbook, nervous about the Healer's visit and feeling more than a little discomfited by the fact that Pomfrey and Esposito seemed to feel he was a threat to Malfoy. It was a nasty crawling sensation, knowing that somebody thought him dangerous. And wondering if they were right. One of the worst feelings he knew, and one that kept coming up with him, it seemed. Like when he'd wondered if he was the Heir of Slytherin, petrifying Muggle-borns left and right. Or when he'd blown up his aunt. Or when he'd been inside the mind of the snake that almost killed Mr. Weasley. And now, wondering if he was a threat to the person he was bonded to, his tendency to violence now mixed with sex in a rather disturbing way.

It didn't matter much right now that Malfoy, his supposed victim, seemed to see the whole thing as a joke. Considering the kind of behaviour Malfoy and his family saw as acceptable, Harry was starting to find that Malfoy's casual acceptance of Harry's actions didn't mean much to him after all.

"Well," Healer Esposito said as she landed, "that took me back a bit." She climbed off her broom, pink-cheeked. "Every time I fly, I tell myself I need to do it more often. I used to fly every single day when I was a girl. Four years as Seeker, back in my day." She smiled at Malfoy. "And yes, 'back in my day' was a few years after the Dark Ages, Mr. Malfoy," she said good-humouredly. "So this is where you've been spending your days?"

"Yeah, mostly."

"Looks very nice. Good choice, boys." She dropped to the ground, motioning them to sit down as well. "All right. I think it's time we discussed what's going on here," she began seriously.

Malfoy cleared his throat as he sat down. "I told Madam Pomfrey that-"

"No no no," she waved impatiently, "I don't mean the bruises and scratches, though she was quite right to contact me about it. And I would prefer that you don't repeat that kind of thing again any time soon, out of concern for Madam Pomfrey's nerves, if nothing else. But that's not the main reason I came all the way out here."

"Then... what's the reason?" Harry asked, cautiously relieved but still a little nervous.

"Two reasons, actually. It seems that you are getting comfortable with each other, sexually?"

"Er, yeah."

"Excellent. Have you thought about actually having sexual intercourse?"

There was a rather strained silence, during which Harry found himself fascinated by a small ant crawling across his trainer and Malfoy developed a mild obsession with one of his cuticles, before they both shrugged noncommittally.

"I'll take that as an enthusiastic Yes," the Healer said dryly. "Well, that's wonderful and I wish you joy in the discovery of one another and all that, but in light of Madam Pomfrey's reports, I'm going to step in here a bit and do some intrusive interfering. All right?"

They nodded uncertainly.

"The first thing I'm concerned about is this exhaustion you both seem to get right after sexual activity. By your report, it happens every single time, and it's not getting better."

"I... I've had that kind of thing happen before, though-" Malfoy began.

"Every single time?"

"Well, no, but..."

"I'm wondering if there's some sort of energy feedback going on. Because something seems to be... sort of draining both of you."

"What do you mean?"

"You both look much more relaxed than you did a few days ago, but you also look rather tired."

Harry looked at Malfoy, noticing that he did look slightly subdued. Slightly less poised, eyes not quite as keen as usual. He yawned, realizing that he was a bit tired himself.

"Well... that might be because... erm... we're also, um-" he broke off, Malfoy's eyes warning him not to say more.

"If you mean you're both hung over, no, that's not it." They started in surprise. "Yes, we both figured that part out all on our own. Healers tend to notice these things, you know. But I'll wager you've already had hangover potion, and you said you had a good night's sleep last night, and yet you're still feeling as tired as you would near the end of the day. Right?" They nodded uncertainly. "That's worrisome. If sex is what's doing this to you, the simplest suggestion would seem to be to stop having sex, but that really, really wouldn't be a good idea considering what a frustrated bond spell does to people in general and you two in particular." She took out a quill and scroll while she spoke, then set a simple charm on the quill.

"Let's begin. When does the tiredness hit - during, right after orgasm, or a while after orgasm?"

"Right after, mostly..." Harry said, and Malfoy nodded.

"Do you feel upset afterwards?"

"No," they both said.

"How often do you engage in sexual activity in a day?"

"Er..." uncertain glance between them, and Harry guessed "Four or five times?" as Malfoy said, "Three or four, I think."

"Oh to be young again," the Healer sighed. "Three to five times. And I suppose it depends on what you classify as sexual activity," she commented, and went on to the next question. And the next, and the next, until Harry and Malfoy had both moved well beyond embarrassment and into tedium. They were both startled when she abruptly put away her quill and said, "Right. That's that, then."

"That's what?" Malfoy asked.

"That's about all I can think to ask for my first concern. I'll have to prepare a report, though, and I'd like to do it while my mind is still fresh. Why don't you two go flying while I do that, and I'll call you back when I'm ready to discuss the other thing I came here for."

"What?"

"I am going to put together a report," she said, taking out a different quill. "If you don't wish to sit here watching me write, go fly. I've heard your Seeker's Games have become very popular."

"Popular?" Harry frowned.

"Yes, a few students noticed yesterday that you were playing. Two of them were in the hospital being treated for mandrake cry exposure when I went in this morning. They were discussing your games, taking bets on who would win the next match. You've got fans."

Harry and Malfoy exchanged a surprised glance. They'd played quite a few times over the last two days, but not for anybody else's benefit. How... flattering, yet unsettling, that they'd been noticed and watched by their fellow students.

"Go. Play a few games. I'll whistle when I'm done, and then we can go on to the other reason I'm here."

"Which is?" Malfoy asked.

"We're going to discuss the immediate future of your sex life in very, very intimate detail. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

ooooooo

What a bloody long day, Harry thought as he and Malfoy wearily entered their quarters that night. Between the sessions with Esposito, two sets of Seeker's Games, and the massive amount of reading they'd done, not to mention two furtive yet heated groping sessions at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Harry felt like he'd single-handedly slain a couple of acromantulas.

"Potter, not on my desk," Malfoy said tiredly, and Harry picked up the robe he'd just dropped off of Malfoy's desk and draped it over his own.

"I take it we're asking the house elves to bring dinner here?" Malfoy asked.

"Yeah, I can't do Hogsmeade, sorry," Harry said, going into their washroom. "I'll just - I'll go down to the kitchens, give me a minute." He closed the door, trying to figure out just how much of his fatigue could be explained away as the product of a busy day. Still wondering when he exited the washroom. He stopped, pleasantly surprised at the supper awaiting him in their sitting room.

"Oh. Did you go to the-"

"No, Dobby came in while you were in the washroom," Malfoy said, listlessly cutting into his mincemeat pie.

"Good." Harry sat, digging in, noticing that Malfoy's movements were slow, almost sluggish. "You all right?"

"Yeah, just tired. It's been a long day."

"Yeah," Harry chewed pensively. "What do you think-"

"I think I don't want to think about why I'm tired," Malfoy interrupted him tiredly, and Harry found himself wishing for his normal snapping sarcasm. This oddly subdued Malfoy was a little unsettling. Malfoy glanced up and took in Harry's worried gaze.

"I'd much rather think about the other subject we talked about with Esposito," he said, his mouth quirking slightly in amusement at Harry's automatic gulp.

"Could you believe the... I mean, I... could you believe that?"

"You mean, did I really discuss positions and sex spells and topping and bottoming with a witch old enough to be my grandmother?" Malfoy smirked. "I'd love to believe it was just a figment of my imagination, but then that would mean I came up with all of that on my own and that's even more disturbing."

Harry laughed. "I didn't even know half of what she talked about was possible," he admitted. "I kept wondering if she was making it up."

"You should've seen your face when she suggested we do it in the hospital the first time. You're entirely too gullible, Potter."

Harry chuckled, picking at his food. It had been an interesting discussion, the bizarreness aside. Esposito had a way of making everything sound so matter of fact that it was hard to really remain fully mortified the entire way through. Her sense of humour helped too. And he supposed it was better to have too much information than too little, when it came to maintaining their precarious equilibrium through first-time sexual encounters.

Malfoy idly speared a piece of mincemeat, chewing it pensively. "You know... the tiredness..."

"I thought you didn't want to talk about it."

"She said she'd be consulting experts at this kind of thing. But..."

"I know. She's supposed to be the expert."

"Yeah."

"You heard her, though," Harry pointed out. "She's the expert at bonding spells. Not at deliberately miscast spells."

"Yeah."

They half-heartedly ate in silence. "Which makes this totally different, doesn't it?" Harry said finally. "If that's what it is."

"Bad enough to think we were cursed by an amateur. The alternative, though..."

"Is that it was miscast on purpose." Harry paused. "Why would anybody do that, though?"

"And why to us?"

"We don't know it was directed at us," Harry said. "Just whoever happened to walk past that door arguing."

"There were only seven of us there that day, and everybody got along except you and me."

"But-"

"The announcement about that meeting was public knowledge. The new Quidditch regulation was front-page news on the Prophet, everybody knew that all the Captains and Seekers were going to have to meet to discuss it with Madam Hooch..."

Seven of them at the meeting. Himself and Malfoy, there as both Captains and Seekers. The Captains and Seekers of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Madam Hooch. And all, as Malfoy had said, got along reasonably well, except for the two of them, mostly because Malfoy couldn't be bothered to argue with anybody but Harry in that group. And they had been the only ones with fixed and passionate opinions on how the new regulation should be carried out at Hogwarts; the others at the meeting had been pretty blasé about the whole topic.

Harry suddenly realized he had no idea what had been decided in the end. They'd gotten into an argument and started to walk out in the middle of the meeting... and the rest was history.

And the classroom they'd used was in an almost completely unused section of the castle. It wouldn't have been difficult to rig the door just for them.

"You really think it was directed at us?" Harry said sceptically.

"Why not?"

"That's a little paranoid, don't you think?"

"You're not paranoid if people really are out to get you, Potter; you of all people should know that."

"Who would've wanted to?"

"We've both got enemies."

"But not the same ones. Who would want to take both of us down at the same time?"

"I don't know," Malfoy sighed dispiritedly.

They picked at their food a while longer until Malfoy finally set down his fork.

"I can't eat any more. I'm going to bed."

Harry nodded, idly pushing his pie around his plate as Malfoy went to brush his teeth and get ready for bed.

"Potter? Are you coming?" Malfoy said quietly from their bedroom door.

Harry looked up at him. Something indefinable glimmered in Malfoy's eyes behind his weariness. At once casual and hesitant. Almost... vulnerable.

Harry held Malfoy's gaze, thinking. Ever since their attraction had begun the second time, without discussing it they had stopped going to bed at the same time. Neither had wanted to lie chastely next to the other until sleep claimed them, or try to only go so far but no farther. So they'd taken turns; one of them would lie down while the other one studied, and the second would go to bed after the first was safely asleep. Except for the previous night, when they'd been much too drunk for much to happen between them, Malfoy's teasing of Ron aside.

Tonight, though... tonight there was nothing else. Just them. No alcohol, no friends, no quick and easy excuse to avoid intimacy if they wanted to.

And there was no reason to. Nobody would pressure him into anything he wasn't ready for; he'd finally accepted that.

Not taking his eyes off Malfoy, Harry rose and joined him at their bedroom door, leaning in for a kiss for a moment before Malfoy pushed him away and towards the washroom. He went in, letting the mechanical acts of his night-time routine clear away worries about their bond, the tiredness the Healer was worried about, the fact that they had one more day before returning to their regular lives with all the pressures of school and Slytherins and Snape and their own personalities...

This wasn't the time to deal with any of that.

Malfoy had already stripped down to t-shirt and pants by the time Harry was done, and was sitting on the bed waiting for him, silently watching Harry as he took off his own shirt and trousers. He reached out to Harry, taking his hand, lying back and pulling Harry down with him.

This was so much more pleasant than talking and letting down emotional barriers, thought Harry as he leaned over Malfoy and their lips met. This kind of barrier was much easier to let down, and felt a lot better once it was gone.

Harry closed his eyes as Malfoy mouthed along his jaw, smiling slightly as Malfoy whispered, "Don't worry, no teeth-" before licking the edge of his ear and sending shivers running down Harry's back. He arched into Malfoy's touch, slipping his hands under Malfoy's t-shirt. Malfoy sat up long enough to wriggle out of his t-shirt altogether, and tugged at Harry's shirt too. Harry hesitated a second, then took it off and they returned to each other's mouths.

Mm, this was nice, Harry thought, turning over and pulling Malfoy with him, noting that although the last time he'd done this he'd become a little nervous at Malfoy looming over him, this time he was just fine with the whole idea. In fact, he wanted to feel his whole body, and he tugged Malfoy on top of him. Malfoy gently nudged Harry's thighs with one knee, and Harry obligingly parted them and threw his head back, a contented sigh escaping him as Malfoy settled on top of him, their erections pressed against each other, their mouths seeking each other once more.

Oh, yeah. Very nice. He moved his hips a little, craving more friction, more intense pressure, and felt Malfoy's breath catch. And then Malfoy rolled them so that they were on their sides, facing each other, and slowly brought his hand down to Harry's pants. Harry smiled, reaching for Malfoy as well, their hands slipping in past their waist bands, fingers running lightly up and down, teasing each other.

"Hang on," Harry murmured, irritated at the tightness of Malfoy's drawstrings against his wrist. "Do you mind just taking it off?"

Malfoy's quick breathless laugh shook through both of them. "Do I mind taking this off so you can give me a better hand job? Let me think about that," he said as he hastily removed his underwear, grinning as Harry did the same, and their mouths met in a deep kiss.

They were completely naked, Harry realized, and yet it didn't feel strange at all. It felt totally natural and rather amazing, actually. He lightly caressed Malfoy's back, grinning at the shiver that ran over Malfoy's body, then moaned into his mouth as Malfoy grasped him more firmly.

"No tree bark either, isn't that nice?" Malfoy murmured into Harry's neck, and they laughed. Malfoy gasped a bit as Harry's grip grew firmer and faster.

"Oh, yeah, little faster-" he managed to say, seeming to lose track of what he was doing. Harry nipped his ear lightly, and Malfoy started.

"Remember me?" Harry said, and nodded down at his own neglected erection.

"Don't bite, you'll scare Madam Pomfrey," Malfoy whispered, moving again. "I - oh-" and whatever else he'd started to say was forgotten as he bit his lip and arched his back, losing himself in Harry's movements. They thrust into each other's hands eagerly, and there were no more words as they strained towards completion.

"Oh god-" Malfoy said quietly, and came in Harry's hand. Harry waited impatiently for Malfoy to recover enough to finish him off, unable to suppress a small whimper as he started to move again.

"Yes - oh, oh, yeah, that's-" and it was remarkable how impossible it was to even think of words, when the world crashed over him in such a deeply satisfying way. He held on to Malfoy tightly as they both came down.

"Bloody hell," he said softly, feeling lassitude seep into every fibre of his being and sleep rushing to overtake him.

"It's - yeah, it's too much," Malfoy said slowly. He sighed. "This... we're in trouble. The spell's making us weaken right after."

"Yeah. Can't do much about it though," Harry mumbled, as consciousness slipped away from him. "Pomfrey'll figure it out."

"Good thing we're already in bed."

"Yeah..."

And he felt sleep take him as Malfoy drowsily murmured the cleaning spell.