Hi. Im sorry you are hurting. Im feeling a similar way myself currently and it sucks. If you're up to it im really in the mood for a drarry soulmate AU. Maybe a red string of fate? No pressure tho. Hope you feel better.
Thank you for your wishes <3333 Iâm better, thank you: writing fun drarry ficlets helped. It gave me a lot of joy to write this one, and I hope you like it!
Eighth year, 1.3k, Mature, unbeated.
When Blaise offered Draco a potion that would make him discover his soulmate, Draco only drank it to humour him.
âThereâs no such thing as soulmates,â he said, twirling the blue vial. The potion inside gave off a strong smell of iodine. He wondered if it was a harmless Muggle medicine or an illegal hallucinogenic drugâboth real possibilities where Blaise was concerned.
Blaise was leaning against the frame of his bed. âThere is. Thatâs how I learned that Padma is the love of my life.â
Draco scoffed. âItâs all right to say youâre smitten, you know. You donât have to justify it with metaphysical mumbo-jumbo.â
Blaiseâs eyes flashed. âJust drink it and youâll see it.â
Draco couldnât be arsed to argue; he drank it. âAnd now what?â He deposited the vial on his bedside table.
âNow fate will contrive that you meet them, and when you see your soulmate, theyâll glow.â
âYou mean my soulmate is at Hogwarts? Out of the entire world? How ridiculous! What if my soulmate is a Brazilian underwear model?â
âWell then your Brazilian underwear model will somehow, through mysterious circumstances, find himself at Hogwarts tonight.â
âWhat a load of bull,â Draco said and gathered his school bag. âCome on. We have Intelligent Plants at Greenhouse Six. Hey, maybe a plant is my soulmate? I could swear my ficus winked at me the other day.â
Blaise didnât look impressed or amused. âYouâre mocking now, but youâll eat your words.â
He followed Blaise out of their dorm, his chest heavy. He didnât want to tell Blaise the real reason he didnât want to know about soulmates. Itâd be so disheartening to be in love, desperately yearning for a person, and then to get confirmation that he wasnât the One. That someone else was, someone that perhaps you hadnât met yet. Even if it was better in the long run, Draco didnât want the pain of disillusionment. He didnât want to know the right bloke for him when his heart ached for the wrong one.
Because there was no way that Potter was his soulmate. Theyâd barely had a conversation these days that wasnât fraught with tension, weird looks and awkwardness. Potterâwho, in former years, had been capable of returning Dracoâs jibes with sharp witâwas tongue-tied around him. Avoided looking at Draco even.
It hurt. Potterâs distance hurt, and Draco had no idea how to bridge it. He distracted himself by thinking about their next class when he froze a few metres from the greenhouses. Heâd forgotten to bring the ingredients Professor Sprout had asked them to for this lesson. Curse Blaise and his stupid potions!
âI need to go back,â he told Blaise and strode back to the castle without another word. He crossed the Entrance, silent and empty now, and was about to head to the dungeons when he saw the schoolâs psych-healer walk his way. Oh no.
Luckily, she hadnât seen him, her attention on her folder, and Draco glanced around him in panic and dashed inside a broom cupboard. He shut the door firmly and leaned his forehead on it, trying to listen to her footsteps fading away.
âWhat are you doing here?â said a voice behind him.
Draco froze. Honestly, this day couldnât get any worse.
He turned around. A weird glow hovered in a corner, which illuminated the silhouette of Potterâs head. Dracoâs heartâthe traitorâthumped giddily. He swallowed. âWhat are you doing here?â
âIâŚerâŚ. was looking for something.â
âSo am I,â Draco hurried to say.
Murmurs came from outside. Draco pressed his ear to the door and groaned. Dr Bells had stopped right outside their door and was talking to someoneâMcGonagall probably.
âYou look like youâre hiding,â Potter said.
âSo do you,â Draco replied.
Dracoâs eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could see Potter a little more clearly, shrouded in that golden haze. âWhatâs that around your head?â
Potter glanced above him. âWhat thing?â
âThatâ oh dear Merlin!â Blaiseâs words shot through Dracoâs brain like a lance: your soulmate will glow.
âYes, yes,â Draco answered quickly, his heart hammering in his chest. Was PotterâŚ? Was it possible? Dracoâs breath came shallow, his lungs straining for air. They strained harder when Potter left his corner and leaned on the door beside Draco. He put his ear on the door, then glanced at Draco with a half-smile.
âHiding from Dr Bells?â
In his confusion it didnât occur to Draco to lie. âYes. She keeps asking me to go see her and talk to her.â He mimicked the counsellorâs voice. â âHow about a chat, Draco? I havenât seen you in my office yet. How about you tell me about your worst nightmares and biggest shames andââ.â Draco bit his lip. He hadnât intended to say all of that and waited for mockery or laughter.
But Potter looked serious. He still leaned beside him, his face turned towards Draco. âIâm hiding from McGonagall. Sameâwell, similar reason. She wants me to make plans about the future, decide on my next few steps, andââ
He didnât finish his sentence and Draco didnât hurry to fill the silence. They stared at each other in the dim golden glow. âI canât stand people being understanding,â Draco confessed. âHelpful. Kind.â
âItâs pity,â Potter said. âIt infuriates me. People checking in on me all the time.â
Draco was distantly aware that, outside, the conversation had ended, and he could leave. He remained where he was, breathing quietly, side by side with Potter. âAll you want is to be left alone,â he whispered.
âYes,â Potter said, voice equally low. Then, he lowered his face but glanced up at Draco through his lashes. âWell, maybe not all alone.â
Draco swallowed. He kept his eyes on Potterâs, desperately trying to keep his knees from collapsing. His voice rasped only a little. âYou want someone by your side.â Potter nodded. Draco continued, âSomeone whoâs not kind, though.â
âNo,â Potter said, coming closer. âNot kind, not understanding, not helpful.â Heâd stopped an inch from Dracoâs lips, his breath hot. âI want someone whoâs fierce. And clever. And a bit rude. Andââ he stroked Dracoâs cheek. âResilient.â
The word loosened something inside Dracoâs chest, and he propelled himself forward. His mouth fell on Potterâs, his hands pulling him close. Potter kissed him back enthusiastically, making small, painful sounds, as if it hurt. And perhaps it did hurt: to be granted this joy. Draco found himself pressed against the door, Potterâs thigh between his legs and Potterâs hot hands under Dracoâs shirt. He kissed him breathlessly, relentlessly, savagely, while a voice inside his head rang with joy: soulmates!
Late that evening, Draco lounged on his bed, his skin flushing at the memory of PotterâHarry, sweet Harryâkissing him and stroking him and gasping in his ear. He looked up to see a disgruntled Blaise enter the room.
âDaphneâs sister, that annoying Sixth-Year, got a hold of the potion, tested it and said it was a tiny strain of Felix Felicis with some other shit which would make someoneâs pupils dilate when they saw the person they had a crush on? I didnât understand it, butââ
âYou wanted it to be soulmates.â
Blaise sat heavily on his bed and held his head with his hands. Almost inaudibly, he said, âIf weâre not soulmates, Padma might fall out of love with me.â
Draco sat up. âWell, then youâve got to treat her right, donât you? But if it helps, I did meet someone today. Under unexpected circumstances. Perhaps there is something in that potion; something that hints at fated love.â
Blaise cast a sideways glance. âYour Brazilian underwear model?â
Draco leaned back on his pillow with a smile and a half-hard cock. âSomeone better.â
Please note that itâs my fervent belief that therapy is a godsend and that finding the right therapist can be life-changing for everyone. Iâd urge everyone who can afford it to seek some therapy, esp during difficult times. The attitude of these two idiots in the fic isnât an example to emulate. (although itâs, unfortunately, quite realistic.)
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