Chapter One: Harry, We're Getting Married
All was quiet on number four Privet Drive, everyone was tucked in their beds safe and warm; not even the spiders in the cupboard under the stairs made a peep, their endless spinning of webs coming to a halt. All but one were soundly sleeping, Harry Potter lay awake, staring at his alarm clock. Watching the red numbers stay steady, then flash as they changed. Normally one doesn't stare at a clock so intently, but in Harry's case it was special. For in ten minutes, Harry would be 17; he'd come of age and leave this house and it's occupants forever.
Ten minutes 'til freedom, he thought with a small smile. Ten minutes 'til Hedwig could fly free; ten minutes 'til he could disapparate away from this place. Ten minutes 'til he could go live with Sirius. Ten minutes 'til he could go to the Weasley's and fly with Ron until dawn whenever he wanted. Ten minutes 'til he'd never have to hear Uncle Vernon's yelling again, ten minutes 'til Dudley would never punch him again. Ten minutes 'til he could freely use magic on either of the afore mentioned people if they tried anything. Ten minutes 'til Aunt Petunia would never sneer at him again; ten minutes 'til she would never blame him for anything just to please Vernon. Ten minutes 'til his life would become 100 times better. Ten minutes 'til Kingsley Shacklebolt could come bursting into his room, with a retarded owl pecking at his bald head.
"Kingsley? What are you doing here?" Harry got up from his bed, a sheet falling with him, and made his way over to the auror. "And why is that owl pecking at you?"
"Harry, good to see you. This, well this is Dumbledore's owl. Bit feisty though, isn't it? Wanted to make sure I got here quick enough, kept pecking me to hurry up," he said, then started to swat at his head. "Get off you bloody fool, I'm here now! Go back to Dumbledore, will you?!" The owl gave one last rather violent peck to the man's head and flew off through Harry's open window.
Harry watched the owl for a moment, thinking about the Weasleys' slow bird, before turning back to Shacklebolt, "Kingsley, not that it isn't great to see you or anything, but why are you here?"
"Oh, that. Well, come on, boy. Dumbledore needs to see you," he said then pulled out his pocket watch, "And we only have nine minutes so hurry up!" Using a packing spell Kingsley gathered up all of Harry's things.
"What? What's going on? Is everything okay? Why do we only have nine minutes?" Harry bombarded the man with questions.
"I'll explain in due time. Now come on, we're off to the Blacks'." Kingsley walked out of the door and down the stairs, Harry's trunk levitating behind him. Harry, hoping the trunk wouldn't fall and wake the Dursleys, followed loosely behind, Hedwig's cage in hand. Once they reached the front door, Harry stopped to put his trainers on. "You know this probably the last time you'll ever be here, Harry," Shacklebolt said.
"Really?" Harry stood to look at the man.
"Yes, after all you're going into your seventh year now. You won't have to come back."
Then it hit Harry. He would be seventeen in a few moments. He'd be going back to Hogwarts and never see Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, or Dudley again. Ever. Never again would he be woken up to the sound of someone banging on the stairs above him, never again would he be locked in a cupboard or a room for hours on end. Never again would he be beaten bloody by Dudley, or called a 'freak'. Never again would he catch Aunt Petunia smiling at him secretly; never again would she sneak him up cookies and tea after Uncle Vernon had punished him; never again would she leveling clean the wounds Dudley gave him.
Harry felt bad for leaving his aunt without saying goodbye, because she had been nice to Harry over the years, even if in secret. Harry thought maybe it was because she really, truly did miss her sister, and she didn't want her little sister's child to be completely miserable all the time. In truth, when Harry had gotten his Hogwarts letter, Petunia was prouder than she'd ever been, even prouder than when Dudley had received his letter from Wharton or wherever he went. Not that she'd admit it, of course. She had known all about Voldemort; she'd faced the man once, not that anyone had known it but her, Dumbledore, Lily, and James. She'd never tell a soul.
Harry noticed that Shacklebolt was no longer at his side, and that he was now out the door and a few good metres away. Harry decided that once they got to Grimmauld place, he'd send Aunt Petunia a message with Hedwig. Harry took one last look at the house and then walked out to join Shacklebolt, locking the door behind him.
"Kingsley, why are we going to Sirius's house?" Harry asked once they were a few metres down the street.
"Because that's where Dumbledore is, of course. Now grab onto my arm; we're apparating." Harry did as he was told. There was a sharp crack and he felt himself being compressed into himself. His head hurt and his eyes watered. Merlin he hated apparating!
"We're here," Kingsley announced.
They stepped through the front door of Number 12 Grimmauld place. It was dark and dreary as always. Harry's steps were light, trying not to awaken the horrid portrait of Sirius mother that hung on the wall in the entry hall; the damned woman was so hard to shut up once she got going, and Harry would rather not have to deal with her. The tip of his wand was light as he followed Shacklebolt, its light illuminating where the auror was, and the mounted heads of deceased house elves on the wall. Harry shuddered seeing their leathery skin.
They reached the end of the hall and Molly Weasley was there to greet them, "Harry! Oh good, you're here! Come on, come on, give me a hug quickly, we don't have much time, you know!" Harry hugged his surrogate mother tightly, letting her pat his head affectionately.
"Ahem." Shacklebolt cleared his throat behind Mrs. Weasley. They both turned to look at him and Mrs. Weasley let go, "Oh, sorry dear, you know how I get." She straightened his shirt and fussed with his hair some more.
"Harry!" Harry looked beyond Mrs. Weasley and Shacklebolt to see Sirius standing there.
"Sirius!" Mrs. Weasley and Kingsley moved out of the way, letting Harry run into the arms of his waiting godfather. Sirius scooped Harry up in an embrace, swinging him around merrily. Despite Harry's age, he was quite small, only 5'6, due to the lack of nutrition as a child, among other things.
"Sirius Black!" Mrs. Weasley chided, "You put that by down this instant! He's 17 after all."
"Come on Molly, I won't be able to do this for a while, and you know it," Sirius answered, setting Harry down.
Harry looked up at his godfather strangely then said to Mrs. Weasley, "No, I'm not 17, not yet anyway," His smile was contagious and Mrs. Weasley broke out into a grin before realizing what he had said.
"Oh! That's right, come on, you must get in there to see Dumbledore!" Mrs. Weasley started to shuffle them off into the other room.
"Mrs. Weasley, where's Ron?" Harry asked.
Molly's face darkened a little at the mention of her son. "At home," she said, then after a moment added, "I told him not to come tonight; I didn't think he could handle it. He'll be here in the morning."
"Oh," Was all Harry said before he was pushed into the room where the Order of the Phoenix met. There he saw Dumbledore sitting at a table across from a blond head. The room was some what dark, but not creepy dark; more of a dim we ran out of candles dark. Harry entered the room cautiously; he had a good idea who that blond head was.
"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore smiled at him, standing. "How are you?" He motioned for Harry to come forth to see him.
"Fine, Professor," Harry answered, keeping his gaze on the blond who hadn't turned around.
"Good, good. Now, why don't you sit down next to Mr. Malfoy, there?" Said Mr. Malfoy turned in his chair to look up at him. Harry immediately noted a few changes that had come over Draco Malfoy in this last summer: his hair was longer, reaching his shoulders and chin not so pointy. This only seemed to enhance his ethereal beauty and make his mercury grey eyes stand out even more. The sneer, Harry noted, hadn't changed a bit.
Harry glared at the boy but sat down grudgingly next to him. "Now Harry, I understand you're probably a little confused right now, but I'm going to have to ask you to do something for me, and we have little time, so will you do it?"
Harry was still glaring side ways at Malfoy when he answered, "Of course."
"Good, now hold Draco's hand." Harry's gaze snapped up to stare wide eyed at the old man before him.
"What?!" He nearly screeched.
"He said for you to hold my hand, Potter." Draco supplied holding out his hand, as if demonstrating.
"No! I'm not holding that evil git's hand! Why the hell should I have to, anyway?!" Malfoy looked away, a bit offended.
"Harry, you said that you'd listen to me, now please hold Draco's hand. We only have about 15 seconds." Dumbledore pleaded.
"15 seconds until what?" Harry asked.
"Until you turn 17." Right after that statement Harry and Draco screamed in pain. Something was crawling up Harry's right arm. It felt like liquid fire and was contracting around the limb. It was climbing up his arm and on to his torso. Soon his entire body was engulfed. He could no longer scream, the pain was so intense but its hold also squeezed around his throat enough that his vocal cords no longer worked.
In the distance Harry could hear someone yelling at him to take Draco's hand, but his body was in so much pain he couldn't figure out what the were saying. He felt himself withering in his chair; actually, he was now on the floor. He must have fallen when the pain started.
"My hand!" someone gasped in his ear and instantly he felt a lot better. Harry reached and grabbed the other body and pulled it down. The pain subsided immensely and Harry sighed in relief that he could now use his throat again. Even with the pain basically gone, Harry was now very, very tired, and his arm throbbed.
"Good going, Potter," was the last thing Harry heard before falling asleep.
Harry awoke to shouts. His eyes were still closed but he could hear people yelling through a wall or something. He was on his side, in a bed covered up, with someone's arm slung over him and their body pressed against his. Harry opened his eyes and noted that he was in his room at Grimmauld place. He quickly shut his eyes, realizing that the light did nothing for the headache he had, nor the strange sensation he was feeling around his right wrist. He and Sirius had set up some time ago during the Christmas holidays when Harry was allowed to come home.
Unfortunately, Harry hadn't been allowed to stay with Sirius over the summer because of the protectants around the Dursley's house. Every time Harry entered the Dursley's house the power that his mother had used to protect him from Voldemort was recharged in a sense. But now that he was 17 the enchantment lifted and he was free to live where he pleased.
Harry turned over and the arm around him tightened. It was then that Harry realized that someone holding him was not normal. Opening his eyes, he controlled the scream that immediately tried to escape his lips. Squeezing his eyes shut, he noted that he still had all his clothes on, which was a good sign.
"Malfoy, you have five seconds to let go of me, or so help me Merlin I'll use all three unforgivable on you and make up a fourth," Harry said through gritted teeth.
"Shut up, that dragon's going to clean itself," was the muffled reply he got.
Harry opened his eyes and saw Draco was still fast asleep, and had a bit of drool coming out the side of his mouth. "Malfoy," Harry shook the boy, "get up you poncey git!"
"Excuse me?!" Malfoy's eyes shot open. "How dare you insult a Malfoy like that? I'll-"
"You've got a bit of drool on your chin, just there, did you know?" Harry smirked as he pointed the area of Draco's face that housed his spittle.
"I do not!" But he wiped furiously at his face anyway. "I see this is where your stupidity left us; then again it's not like we won't have to do worse."
"What are you talking about, Malfoy? What do you mean 'worse'?" Harry glared sitting up.
Draco stayed laying down, his hands behind his blond clad head, "Of course, I forgot, you don't know."
"Don't know what?"
"About the contract, about what you and I are going to have to do," Draco answered, smirking. "I've long since comes to terms about it; Father told me after my birthday in June. I've felt that ring around your right wrist as well. It shouldn't hurt much, only a little tingle, really. Your head's probably pounding, though."
"What are you getting at?" Harry asked, irritated. How and why did the slimy git know how he was feeling down to a 'T'?!
"This is all a product of something very, very stupid our ancestors did. I really wish they were alive, just so I could kill them." The blond said wistfully.
"Stop speaking in riddles!" Harry shouted and there was a crash from behind the door, the people behind it seemed to be ready to burst through at any moment.
"All right, Potter, I'll tell you but only because I want to be the only one to see the look on your face." Draco grinned, sitting up to let the covers fall down his exposed torso. "Here it is: we are going to have to bond."
"What? That's not so bad, spend a few days together I suppose, maybe-" Harry was cut off by the snort that left Draco.
Rolling his eyes Draco said, "I forgot you were raised by Muggles. Let's see, what do you people call it? Oh--Yes, right, Harry, we're getting married."
A/N: Ahem, well. There we go, first chapter done. So, titles pretty gay, couldn't think of anything else. Anyhoo, hope you enjoyed the first chapter!
A/N: I don't own Harry Potter.
OI!!: I needed a break from my regular fanfiction. You may be saying, 'What's her regular fanfiction?' I tell you, I'm not so sure. So I decided to write this, it's an idea that's been swirling around me brain for awhile, note that this is a BoyonBoy, don't like that, don't read it! Oh, everything might seem fuzzy to you as you read this, but as you go on it will all come into FOCUS! Sorry, only I know why I said focus in caps.
Thanks to Chibi Tenshi Sama for betaing!