This is a little thing I wrote to keep me occupied after my wisdom tooth surgery. It's another one of those Potions accident stories, but I hope I was able to put my own spin on it, using the idea of handcuffs. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own HP or DM. I have a feeling JKR will give them to me when she sees my letter, though…
Summary: Harry and Draco are bound together by a potion-gone-wrong. The antidote takes a day to make, so what will they get up to in that time? And what does Harry discover about himself that surprises everyone?
Warnings: Foul language, implied sexual encounters.
And there they were again. Draco punched Potter back, though at this point it seemed obligatory; to keep the Slytherins happy and the Gryffindors not. To be quite honest, he was tired of the fighting. It was their eighth year, and Draco just wanted some peace and quiet to heal from the war. It didn't help that he was not harboring a minor crush on the Golden Boy. He was not.
Potter shoved Draco into the wall, digging his knee into Draco's groin. "Maybe I should just push harder, yeah? Take care of the Malfoy line. No more selfish, egotistical jerks to populate the world, eh?" Potter ground out through his teeth. What had Draco even said to make him this angry?
Oh, right. You know, Potter, you killing You-Know-Who was just luck. You couldn't have done it without the hundreds of people who died for you, wouldn't have been able to off him without the help of your precious little Weasel and his Mudblood girlfriend. You talentless little freak.
"Just because you have a scar. You know, I have a scar, too, Potter. Perhaps you're familiar with it?"
Regret flashed across Potter's face before it hardened. "Shove off, Malfoy."
"Would that not be easier if you hadn't pinned me to a wall?" Draco smirked despite his swollen jaw and split lip. At some point in their fight, Potter's god-awful glasses had been knocked off his nose, and Draco was struck by how green his eyes were. He shook his head, shoving Potter away from him. Maybe this not crush would feel better if he wasn't supposed to hate Potter's guts. Draco knew he should get over it… after all, Potter could never not like him. Draco sighed. His thoughts were so jumbled up.
"Bloody wanker," Potter grumbled at Draco as he left. As soon as he was out of sight, Draco sank down against the wall. These fights were getting to be too much. His hands were shaking as he episky'd his lip.
Draco realized he was going to be late for Potions. He cursed and stood, walking briskly toward the dungeons. He entered the damp room right as class was starting. He took his seat next to Pansy as Slughorn appeared from inside his office.
"Today," He began, "We will be brewing Wolfsbane. However, because this typically takes two hours, I will be pairing you up. No exceptions." He ignored the students' protests.
"Granger, Longbottom. Parkinson, Weasley…" He went on like this for a couple more minutes. Then, "Potter, Malfoy."
Draco tensed. He had to work with Potter? Was Slughorn really that dense, to pair him with Potter? They were doomed. Draco didn't move, instead forcing Potter to come to him. He set his bag down and went to gather ingredients.
Draco was so distracted that he forgot to monitor Potter as he was stirring until it was too late. "No! Potter! Eleven stirs, not twelve!" The potion began to bubble menacingly as Potter tried to fix his mistake by stirring it once the other way.
"No! Potter, you dumbass! Get under the table, who knows what's going to happen now." Draco ducked underneath the wood just as the cauldron exploded, spewing blue slime everywhere. Luckily, the students within the danger zone had been alerted due to Draco's shouting, and all ended up out of harm's way. However, Potter, the unlucky bastard, had not been fast enough, and some of the potion had gotten in his face. He just stood there, blinking, and Draco touched his wrist to see if he was okay in a moment of weakness. Draco suddenly felt a cool blast of air hit his arm, and looked down to see a thin blue band etched into his skin, encircling his right wrist. Potter had an identical one on his left.
"Shit." Potter said, noticing the circles. Draco experimentally drew his hand back. Nothing happened. He stepped back, but was stopped by an invisible force pulling from his wrist.
"It's like handcuffs." Potter muttered, half to himself.
"Like what?" Draco scratched at the band, but it was under his skin.
"Nothing. We should go to Madam Pomfrey." And for once, Draco agreed.
"Professor Slughorn, may we visit the hospital wing to get these removed?"
Slughorn looked immensely worried. "Sure, sure."
Draco grabbed his bag with the hand that wasn't attached to Potter with invisible rope, using the six-inch tie to pull him out of the room. Potter dragged along behind him, seeming stunned. Draco swore under his breath the whole way.
"Madam Pomfrey!" Draco yelled as the infirmary door shut after them. She hurried out of her office and stopped, mildly confused-looking.
"But- what is wrong with you?" Potter held up his wrist, and therefore Draco's wrist, as a silent explanation. "Oh, dear, oh, dear dear dear. Come here, you two. Sit down, let me look at you." Draco and Potter sat beside one another on a bed, resting as far apart as possible.
"Does it hurt, at all?"
Draco shook his head. "No, but if I try to get too far away, it catches, like- What was that word you used, Potter?"
"Handcuffs. Are you familiar with them, Madam Pomfrey?"
She nodded worriedly, sliding her thumb over the blue band on Potter's wrist. "And what brought this about?"
Draco answered with slight venom. "A botched potion. We were attempting," He looked at Potter with contempt, "To brew Wolfsbane. However, after adding the dragon scale, Potter, here, stirred it counterclockwise twelve times, instead of eleven, and then once clockwise, in some sort of addled attempt to fix it."
Pomfrey sighed. "The potion was blue before it exploded, wasn't it." It was not a question. Potter nodded.
"Well, you boys are in luck. This has happened before, and I know exactly the counter-potion needed."
Potter looked hopeful. "So, you can de-connect us?"
"Unfortunately, the potion takes a day to brew. Until then, there is nothing I can do. I will alert the Headmistress as to your situation, and-"
"No need, Poppy. I am already aware. You know, the portraits in this school gossip quite a lot." McGonagall smiled plainly at Pomfrey. She then turned her attention to the boys beside her. "I will have you placed in a separate room until the potion has matured." This seemed to snap some sense into Pomfrey, who began bustling around the infirmary, gathering the ingredients she possessed as well as a cauldron.
"In the meantime, Winky will show you to your room." She snapped her fingers, and with a pop! the small house-elf appeared.
"Winky will to be escorting her two masters to their room, now." She garbled and Draco realized she had been drinking.
"Oh, and boys, you are excused from all classes until this is resolved," McGonagall added.
Winky grabbed Draco's hand and apparated.
They appeared in a hallway lined with paintings. Winky stood, hunched, in front of a very fat, bald man holding a teacup.
Draco was reminded of Dumbledore, and the old geezer's love of all sweets. It was difficult for him to point his wand at the man, even more difficult to see the plan go through. Snape had accidentally confided in him one night when Draco found him, drunk, in his office, that it killed him as much to kill Dumbledore.
Potter thanked Winky and stepped through the now-open portrait into a small sitting room. It had one couch, made up of silver and scarlet, a fireplace, and one door. Draco supposed that was where the bedroom was. He hesitantly pulled Potter toward it.
When the door was opened, Draco stopped short. He hadn't realized he would have to share the single, white-sheeted bed with Potter. He grimaced. Potter was grimacing too, but probably with disgust, as opposed to Draco's nervousness at sleeping in the same bed as his not crush.
"No. Absolutely not. I'll sleep on the couch or something."
"If you hadn't noticed, Potter, that would be a little difficult, wouldn't it?
"What? Of course I c- oh." His face fell. "I'll- I'll sleep on the floor next to the bed or something."
"No you won't, that'll be bloody well painful for the both of us. Are you really that afraid of sharing a bed with another man?"
Potter's mouth twisted down in a sneer. "Maybe if he looked more like one."
Draco's eyes widened momentarily before he schooled his expression to a blank slate. "Fuck you."
"Eager, are we? Not so fast, Malfoy, we're just sharing a bed."
Draco growled. "Well, Potter, this must be a new experience for you, eh?"
"In bed with a man? Yeah. I'm not a shirt-lifting ponce."
"Ah, but Potter, I meant with anyone."
Potter yanked his wrist, causing the blue band to dig into Draco's arm. He clenched his teeth.
"Bloody hell, Potter, what was that for?"
An evil light glinted in Potter's eyes as he answered. "For implying that I'm a fumbling virgin."
Draco smirked. "Aren't you?"
"Blimey, Malfoy, why so interested in my sex life? Jealous?"
"Of that bint Weasley? Hardly. Besides, I'm a to- wait. Fuck you." Draco swore at himself for his slip-up. He hoped Potter hadn't caught it. But he had.
"So, Malfoy, you're a poof? Why aren't I surprised? And, bloody hell, there is no way you will make me share a bed with you."
Draco fought back the damned tears that were trying to make an appearance. "Believe it or not, I don't find you attractive. Sorry to crush your dreams."
Potter snarled. "I'm going to sleep. On the floor." He yanked Draco to the innocent-looking bed and sat on the floor next to it. When Draco laid down on the mattress, his arm was pulled to the side of the bed, while Potter's made him look like he was raising his hand to answer a question. He humphed, grabbing a pillow from the bed and closing his eyes. Draco sighed, and waited for Har- Potter's breathing to even out. Then, he cast Wingardium Leviosa and moved Potter to the bed.
Draco awoke with dark hair tickling his nose. It smelled faintly of coconut. He became aware of a body pressed into his, and a muscular back against his chest. His arm was hooked around the other's waist.
Oh, shit. Har- Potter was in bed with him. Before he freaked out in a very un-Malfoy-like fashion, he thought back to the night before' argument. Oh, right. Bloody Potter had called him a girl, and then- One thing Har- Potter had said stuck out in his mind.
"Implying that I'm a fumbling virgin." Draco seethed. That damn Weasley bitch got to him first. Oh well, gay sex was way different than straight- wait, what was Draco doing? The absolute worst time to think about sex is when you're practically spooning with the subject of that thought! Speaking of which, Har- Potter was beginning to stir. Draco practically jumped out of his skin when a soft laugh emitted from the shorter boy.
"Good morning, Malfoy. I hope you are aware that I was not in fact asleep when you brought me up here? Though, I must say, this is much comfier. And for merlin's sake, you don't need to be so paranoid!"
"Wh-what?" Draco whispered, as his mouth was inches from Potter's ear.
"I'm not going to hex you, put your wand away."
"I don't- holy fuck." Draco pushed himself away from Potter, but the other boy was just dragged with him. They both tumbled off the bed, landing in a heap with Potter sitting wide-eyed on Draco's stomach. When Draco saw the position he tried to scramble away again, but was anchored in place by the invisible strands of magic binding his wrist with Potter's.
Potter stared at Draco.
And then they were kissing as if their lives depended on it. Neither was sure who instigated it, but Draco knew that it was the best thing to ever happen to him. He swiped his tongue across Pott- no, Harry's bottom lip, deepening the kiss. His left hand wound through Harry's surprisingly soft black hair, while his right held Harry's left. The shorter boy's free arm wrapped itself around Draco's waist. And merlin, Harry was a good kisser.
"Draco." Harry breathed against Draco's lips. The blond shivered. Who knew his name could sound so… sensual. "Draco."
"What is this? What are we doing?" Harry rested his forehead against Draco's. His eyes were stunningly green without his glasses.
"Kissing." Draco whispered back. "Don't stop. Don't ever stop." In any other situation he would have been embarrassed by what had just come out of his mouth, but not now. He made a pass at Harry's mouth again, but the other boy pulled back.
"No. I- I can't do this. I'm sorry, Draco." Harry closed his eyes. "I can't." He repeated under his breath. He looked down, his hair obscuring his eyes. Draco thought he looked beautiful, and said so.
"No, no I'm not. I'm covered in scars, I'm imperfect."
"But so am I." Draco spoke quietly, vanishing his shirt. "Look."
Harry's eyes traveled appreciatively up Draco's abdomen, settling on a ragged scar that sliced from left shoulder to right hipbone. Harry hesitantly reached out, running his fingertips along it sorrowfully.
"I'm so sorry."
Draco smiled. "Old news. It's over."
He curled his fingers around Harry's hand, bringing their attached hands together as well.
"I really like you, Harry. I don't want to fuck this up."
Harry beamed. "You- you do?"
"Why else would I kiss you, dumbass?" The remark had no bite, just a gentle teasing. Draco wondered what this potential relationship would do to him. He was already ridiculously sappy, and they had only kissed once.
"Draco?" Harry sounded unsure. "Will you- will you be my boyfriend?"
"I don't think-"
Harry looked positively crushed. "Oh."
Draco poked his cheek. "You didn't let me finish, you bloody poof." He smiled. "I don't think I could say no if I wanted to."
Harry grinned, a smile that lit up the room. "Really?"
"Yes, you soppy fool. Now quit smiling, you're giving me a headache."
Harry kissed Draco on the nose.
"Now," said Draco, "Let's go get some breakfast."
Harry's eyes widened. "But whose table will we sit at?"
"No offense, Harry, but I don't think your friends will take to me very well."
"I know Hermione will. And Ginny will probably be relieved that I'm g-. It's just Ron that you should be worried about." He finished quickly.
"Harry. There is absolutely nothing wrong with being gay."
Harry nodded. "And Draco, I'm really sorry about what I said last night. I didn't mean it. And besides, since I'm… gay, if you looked like a woman I wouldn't be attracted to you, right?"
Draco smirked. "I don't know. Blaise tells me I rock a dress."
Harry's eyes widened. "C'mon, conjure a shirt and let's get out of here."
Chapter two will be posted within a few minutes.