Wait It Out
@drarrymicrofic | prompt: bond | wc: 500 | rating: mild m
“Good news first, or bad?” Ron asked.
“Good,” Harry blurted, just as Malfoy said, “Bad, obviously.”
They glared, then turned away, hands clasped.
“Good news: it’s time-limited. The curse is for newlyweds to get to know one another. It’s not permanent. You’ll just have to wait it out.”
Malfoy sighed. “The bad news?”
Ron cleared his throat; he sounded amused, which Harry thought was a little rude. “We can’t break it, unless one of you fancies giving up your magic.” They both blanched. “The bond’s tied to your magical cores. If it were a permanent bond, maybe we’d try, but the risk of magical core damage—”
“How long, Weasley?”
Silence. Ron coughed; Harry could hear his attempt to restrain his laughter, the tosser. “One year.”
Malfoy gaped. “You expect me to hold hands with this cretin for a year?”
In the corner, Bill cleared his throat. “There are ways to … create distance.”
Harry saw Malfoy’s expression and somehow, he knew.
“I’m not shagging Malfoy!” Harry all but shouted. “I’ll hold his bloody hand for the rest of my life before that!” His face was hot. He didn’t like Ron and Bill’s dubious expressions.
Malfoy sighed. “I cannot believe I hired you as a curse-breaker and you cursed me.”
“I can’t believe your family has a dodgy sex-curse artefact!”
“Really? It seems rather in character to me, which is why I hired professional fucking curse-breakers!” Malfoy sighed. “l’ll pack a trunk.”
Harry frowned. “You’re … coming to Grimmauld?”
“Did you wish to move into the manor for a year?”
“Godric’s gonads, no.”
“I assumed. Come on.”
Harry ignored Bill’s knowing glance and Ron’s barely disguised leer as they left St Mungo’s. It only took Draco ten minutes to pack, despite having one hand clasped in Harry’s. Another few minutes to figure out how to Floo together and they stood in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place.
“I’ll show you to the guest—fuck.”
“Yes, I won’t be needing a guest room,” Malfoy said, tone dry. “Please tell me you have tea?”
Harry nodded. “Even some posh stuff.”
Harry didn’t mention that he’d seen what brand of tea Malfoy preferred in the manor kitchen and bought it, daydreaming about how impressed Malfoy might be if Harry were ever brave enough to invite him over.
Malfoy didn’t look impressed. He sighed, running his wand hand through his hair.
“I’d like to try something.”
Harry waited.
A pause; a breath. A tug of their joined hands and they were chest-to-chest, Malfoy’s hand in his hair.
“This is just pragmatic,” Malfoy said. “I’d rather like privacy in the loo.”
“Right,” Harry breathed. “Pragmatic.”
“Making tea will be easier. Dinner, too.”
“Yes. That makes sense.”
“We’ll just … determine the boundaries of the curse. Experiment.”
“I like experimentation,” Harry said.
—
Draco looked up from between Harry’s thighs. “Curse ends tomorrow,” he murmured. “Am I moving back into the manor?”
Harry grinned, fingers in Draco’s hair. “Are you kidding? I couldn’t bear to be that far away from you.”
