For @drarrymicrofic prompt: âBondâ wc 888
At first, it was the same brand of coffee.
âAll goneâŠâ Harry laments, speaking to no one in particular as he peers into the empty coffee jar.
âAh, Merlinâs ball sack,â comes Malfoyâs voice over his shoulder. âThat other stuff is rubbish.â
Harry turns to him. âEr, yeah. Suppose youâre right.â
Malfoy looks just as horrified by their agreement as Harry feels.
Then it was the same type of quill nib.
âI know Iâve got one in here,â Harry mutters, rummaging through his briefcase.
âAlright, Potter?â Malfoy asks, peering up from his side of the table.
âFavourite quill nib broke, and I canât find any spares,â Harry replies.
Two seconds later, Harry feels the sharp tap of metal bouncing off his head and then onto the desk.
âTheyâre my favourite too,â Malfoy says, as if that is a perfectly acceptable reason for throwing a nib at him.
Harry nods at Malfoy. âAh, thanks.â
Malfoy gives a small, shy nod back.
After that, it was the same book.
Spring â Hogwarts Grounds
âHermione tells me I need to read more,â Harry says. âAnd I do, only itâs fiction. Which apparently isnât enlightening enough.â
Malfoy chuckles lightly. âI wonât disagree with Granger, but I do love a good novel. What are you reading?â
They come to a stop by the Black Lake, and Harry is suddenly thrown by how the morning sun dances across the water, bright and pale as Malfoyâs hair.
Harry blinks. âOh, sorryâIâve just finished reading the third instalment of The Rising of the Coast, and it wasââ
âThird?â Malfoy cuts in with a frown. âThatâs not out until the end of the year.â
âYouâve read The Rising of the Coast?â
âHave I read The Rising of the Coast?â Malfoy repeats incredulously. âHow have you got the latest instalment?â
Heat blooms across Harryâs cheeks. âErm⊠the publisher sent me a copy of the manuscript.â
Malfoy looks pained to say it. âLucky sod. I canât wait to read that.â
âWellâŠâ Harry starts cautiously. âItâs in my quarters, if you want to borrow it?â
A ghost of a smile touches Malfoyâs mouth. âI suppose I might.â
Then came the same realisation.
Summer â Malfoyâs Classroom
âYouâve got three jars of lizard livers,â Harry says. âThough I think you should only write down two. This third one looks off.â
âPass it here?â Malfoy asks.
He takes the jar, pops the lid, gives it a cursory sniff, gips, then Vanishes it sharply with his wand.
âRemind me not to let students help themselves next year. None of them ever put things back properly.â
Itâs the end of the school year, and Harry is helping Malfoy count stock in his Potions supply cupboard. From where heâs squatting on the floor, attention now meant to be on the number of lizard tongue jars, he looks up at Malfoy instead.
Malfoy is scratching away at his clipboard, all heavy focus and sharp jawline, silver eyes glimmering under the low amber light of the single lantern as he counts empty vials.
It hits Harry then that he has two months without this.
And he doesnât like that.
âAny plans for the holidays?â Harry asks, hoping he sounds more confident than he feels.
Malfoy shakes his head. âNope. You?â
âTaking you out on a date.â
Malfoy looks at him, and the arch of his brow does nothing to hide the pink blush spreading across his cheeks.
âYou asking me out from the floor of a Potions supply cupboard?â
Malfoy considers it for a moment, then grins.
âAlright. Wear a tie.â
Finally came the same future.
Autumn â Harryâs Quarters
âGet off me, youâDraco, stop it!â Harry laughs, making no real effort to stop Draco from attacking his neck with kisses.
âItâs your fault,â Draco groans as he finally pulls away. âYouâre too fit.â
âWeâre going to be late.â
Harry drags himself out of bed, avoiding Dracoâs half-hearted attempts to pull him back in. He starts to dress, unable to stop himself from looking at Draco now that he can.
He can look at Draco all he wants, and Draco can look at him too, and they do that a lot these days.
Look and touch and kiss and spend an exorbitant number of hours between the sheets together.
âLetâs skip dinner,â Draco says, propping himself up on one arm. Moonlight cuts through the window, drowning him in white, making him look even more ethereal than he already is. âLetâs go down to the kitchens later and bring food back.â
âWe need to show our faces in the Great Hall at some point, you know. People are starting to talk,â Harry says.
However, the thought of spending another night in bed with his boyfriend does sound appealing.
âLet them talk, Harry. Weâve nothing to hide. Right?â
Underneath the question is a faint thread of unmissable worry.
Half-dressed, Harry kneels on the edge of the bed and leans over Draco. He kisses him once, slowly.
âIâm not hiding you from anyone, Draco. It would be terribly inconvenient to do that for the rest of my life.â
He feels the curve of Dracoâs lips against his own.
This is what a bond really is. A hundred small moments, quietly choosing the same thing.