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“And you’re sure about this?” Draco asked Theo for the millionth time.
“It’s almost like you don’t trust me,” Theo whinged as he tinkered with a wire connected to a Muggle item called a battery.
“I don’t,” Draco emphasized, crossing his arms as he watched his best friend light a match to burn incense. “What bloody magical ritual requires Muggle goods?”
“Just breathe,” Theo coached. “If all this goes right, you’ll be bonded to your soulmate by midnight.”
“That’s in 3 minutes.”
“Precisely.”
“And if it goes wrong?” Draco inquired.
Theo let out a huff. “You know, you could have asked all your bloody questions before I went to all the trouble, but if this goes wrong, you and I will be bonded instead. It’s arguable we already are.”
They had been discussing soul bond magic ever since stepping onto the platform earlier that morning to head back to school for their mandatory eighth year in purgatory. Now, they were in the Room of Requirement while everyone was downstairs for the Start of Term Feast. The feast had a bad habit of running well into the morning, and he had already sat through one too many; an eighth felt excessive. There would be food leftover down in the kitchen they could swipe on the way back to the dungeons.
Theo drew runes on the floor then sprinkled shaved chalk in a circle on the floor. Right as the clocktower chimed at midnight, he lit the chalk, watching as the circle ignited. The runic sigil shot off into the air like a firework before whirring around them; Draco felt a heartbeat somewhere across the castle. He brought a hand to his chest as the magic sunk deeper. “Oh, Salazar’s saggy nuts. I feel… someone?”
The magic continued to flow through his body, a warm feeling reaching to the tips of his fingers and down into his toes. Emotions he had long discarded; most notably hope, filled him, making his breaths seem lighter.
Whoever this was, whoever’s heart was now unequivocally tied to his, had a heart of gold. It was someone he wanted to protect and safeguard. Someone he never wanted to have their hope snuffed out. Draco felt the urge to find his heart and keep it locked away and guarded.
“Come here, I need to check your pulse to make sure we aren’t bonded,” Theo said, placing two fingers to Draco’s neck to compare. After a minute that felt like an eternity, Theo grinned. “Sorry, mate, you aren’t my soulmate.”
Draco dragged a hand through his hair. “Thank fuck for that… but then how do we know who our soulmates are?”
“We can… check everyone’s pulses?” Theo suggested, gesturing vaguely.
“Theo, we can’t just fucking touch people, especially with our reputation.”
“You are the only one of us who has a reputation, mini Death Eater,” he rebutted. “The only reputation I have to uphold is that I enjoy touching too many people according to societal standards.”
“You’re a slag.”
“And you’re judgmental and narrow minded,” Theo huffed. “Maybe touching a couple of people would help remove that wand from up your arse.”
“I’m soul bonded - wait… We’re soul bonded! Doesn’t that mean we need to be loyal to our soulmate?” Draco meant to be kidding, but with his soulmate’s pulse flickering in his chest besides his own, he knew it was no joking matter.
“Did I miss your resorting into Hufflepuff? Daddy Lucius whispering in your ear about how you only have one witch for time and all eternity?” Theo asked, eyebrow raised. “I’m going to tell Lucius you think he’s a Puff,” Draco sniffed. If there was anything positive had Draco learned from his father, it was that loyalty to one's witch was paramount.
“If my soulmate has an arse as tight as your mum’s, I’d also be loyal like he is,” Theo said. He stepped right, dodging the foreseeable, Draco’s fist.
Theo had an uncanny ability to remind Draco that his mum was his teenage dream. The Muggle song Stacy’s Mom had been riffed all summer to Draco’s Mum.
The unrelenting bastard, Theo continued as he rounded a couch to put some distance between them. “What if your mum is my soulmate? Would you call me daddy?”
If Theo kept this up, there was going to be a duel, and he would end up in Azkaban with his actual father. The prospect of prison was not worth chasing Theo over. To fight him any further would only prolong Theo's goading.
“We will just have to have a difference in opinion as to how we go about finding our person. Come on, let’s get down to the common room before we end up with detention,” Draco said, turning to leave.
“Please. No one would give this face a detention,” Theo smirked, following nonetheless.
The hallways were darkened, the flames in the sconces flickering, though dimmed. Draco realized that with Filch’s retirement from after the war, there would be no Mrs. Norris lurking, hunting down students out of bed after hours. It would certainly make his life easier when he needed to take his insomniac midnight walks.
Strolling around the corner, Draco collided straight into someone, their hair reaching just beneath his chin. He reached out to grab their elbow and steadied them, only for the person to rip their arm away and clutch it to their chest.
Granger.
He could practically feel her anger pulsing in the air and under his skin. The sensation was familiar, seeing as how he had often been at the receiving end of her outbursts throughout their childhood. In a sick way, it was almost soothing. Something consistent.
“What are you doing out of bed?” Hermione sneered, looking at him with utter fury.
“I could ask you the same question,” Theo said as he stepped around the corner, folding his arms. “You’re not a Prefect anymore, Granger.”
Hermione’s demeanor changed, tightening her robes around her as she took a step back. “I’m just taking a walk,” she replied, barely above a whisper.
“Well, we are allowed to do the same,” Theo asserted. He took a step forward to truly tower over her. Draco actually felt the urge to shove Theo away. Didn’t he see how uncomfortable he was making her?
“That’s enough, Theo,” Draco interjected, grabbing him by the arm to tow him away.
Looking over his shoulder to make sure they were alone, Theo pulled out of his grasp. “What the fuck, Drake? She was trying to bully us and has no authority to do so.”
“She looked scared,” Draco argued. “We’re here because we were given grace, we should be nice.”
“You’re fucked,” Theo said, walking ahead of him now. “Puff’s common room is that way.”
Draco followed, now officially brooding. He wasn’t being irrational asking Theo to be nice. Theo had always been the nicer one, why was he being a prick now? Draco didn’t need saving; everyone knew he was a Death Eater arse who had narrowly escaped prison.
Adding to all of that, Theo hadn’t been there that night, where he had heard Hermione’s screams. Draco had promised himself after that to spare her from anything scary or painful whenever he could.
He found himself wondering why Granger was out wandering the hallways. Did she find peace in midnight strolls as well? Was she haunted in her own Common Room by those that were no longer there? Surely the corridors were no less haunting, he knew himself that certain areas of the castle would forever be stained with blood, no matter how clean they now looked.
Something to work through with his Ministry mandated Mind Healer.
Draco fell asleep dreaming of holding a faceless witch, hair soft in his hands as he ran his fingers through her locks.
He wondered if his witch was dreaming of him as well.
Potter and Weasel were arguing with Granger while they all gathered around their cauldron. Loud enough for everyone to know they were fighting, yet quiet enough to not be able to hear what they were saying. Though it looked like the boys had teamed up against her.
Draco simply felt annoyed. Didn’t they know that she had saved them enough times? Hadn’t she been the one to brew Polyjuice potion for them back in second year? That was at least what he had heard from their common room parties when Potter had been loose lipped from too much booze.
What on earth were they arguing about?
Ron’s eyes flashed over Hermione’s shoulder at him before returning back to the argument at hand.
Ah, so they are arguing about me, he grinned, feeling like he had won something. What he wouldn’t give for a Weasley’s extendable ear at the moment.
“Have you figured it out yet?” Theo asked as he returned to their table with a tray of ingredients that was too slimy for Draco’s delicate stomach to handle.
“Figured out?”
“Your soulmate?” Theo hissed, eyes flashing as he tilted his head towards the table with the Golden Trio. “You’ve been doing your… research, correct?”
“Just observational, like I had said I would,” Draco said indignantly as he started chopping the slugs up with flicks of his wand, levitating them into the cauldron and setting the spoon to automatically stir.
“Yes, well, I have observed with hands-on experimentation that my person isn’t in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff.”
Draco’s eyes grew wide as he looked at his best mate. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“Do you think I have the charisma to woo that many people into bed with me?”
“Yes,” Pansy interrupted as she arrived at their table. “Honestly, Theo, you know you’re a man whore.”
Draco laughed, then suddenly was filled with chilling external dread. Would he have to sleep his way through Hogwarts to find his soul bond? The thought was chilling, he could be bonded to anyone, anywhere. Fuck, his lover could be on a different continent for all he knew.
He had essentially created a census of the castle, organized by house, each person listed alphabetically. Each time he had felt a connection through the bond, he had looked around the room to see if someone nearby was the one. Unfortunately for him, it often seemed as if emotions happened by gaggle instead of individually. The number of times he had felt joy, only for all three members of the Golden Trio to be laughing was simply irritating.
Or anger. Like they were all clearly experiencing right now.
“You all are utterly ridiculous. No, a simple game of spin the bottle was sufficient. An easy way to check a pulse without the commitment and awkward walk home afterwards. Two houses left to go.” He leaned in closer. “Though… I do think I have figured out who he is.”
Draco noticed that the arguing had picked up again and he looked over, ignoring Theo, right as Hermione flicked her wand to crush, instead of chop, the mint leaves and toss them in.
No!
He was off his feet in a flash, grabbing her by her robes and tugging her away from the table. The cauldron roared as the gooey, hot substance exploded like a volcano, singeing everything in its path. Hermione’s stool disintegrated as the potion spread. Potter and Weasley had gotten hit directly, their robes disintegrating, burnt skin blistering as they screamed for Hermione.
Draco took a breath and loosened his grip on her. She had hit her head, quite hard, when they had landed on the potions floor. Slughorn was working on setting up wards to contain the spill and had yelled for Theo and Pansy to escort Harry and Ron to the hospital wing.
“Malfoy, can you carry Miss Granger up or do you need help?”
“No, I’ve got her, Professor,” Draco nodded as he hoisted Hermione bridal style into his arms. He was positively seething; Hermione would never have made such a silly mistake if it weren’t for those stupid arseholes arguing with her.
“Good lad,” Slughorn hollered as he shrank the wards, further putting out the continual combustion of the cauldron.
He found his feet soaring, pounding against the stone floors as he ran towards the Hospital Wing. Draco rounded a corner, almost knocking down a flock of first years who were stupid enough to be skipping class. “Move out the fucking way!” He yelled at Peeves who was doing handsprings down the corridor.
“Mister Malfoy!” Madam Pomphrey exclaimed as he burst through the door. The witch climbed off her chair and gestured to the second bed for him to rest Hermione on. “What happened?”
“Potions explosion,” he explained as he set her down on the bed, adjusting the pillow to lay flatter so her neck wasn’t kinked. “I tried to get her out of the way, and damn it, she hit her head. I think Potter and Weasley will be headed up soon, they got caught in the splatter of the potion.”
“Those three do like to visit me as a group,” she remarked, casting a diagnostic on Hermione’s unmoving body. “It seems Miss Granger is in a deep sleep from a concussion, which is quite unfavorable. The charm work for this severity is going to take at least twenty-four hours to ensure that every inch of her brain is evaluated and healed.”
She let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as she continued, “Hermione has always been positively livid when she’s woken up from missing her classes.”
“I’ll take notes for her,” Draco offered, practically pouncing at the opportunity. “I can even come and read them to her while she is healing so she isn’t behind on the lectures.”
“I am sure she would greatly appreciate the gesture considering you two have been neck and neck academically, so I’ve heard.”
The clock tower chimed that it was quarter til. “I must be going,” he said as he stood. “I’ll be back, Granger.”
Normally by the time classes were over, Draco was thoroughly exhausted and ready to climb into bed. However, knowing he got to be the one to help Hermione while she was healing made him giddy. It had been the equivalent of drinking one of the little espresso shots he and Theo had discovered over the summer holidays.
He entered the Hospital Wing, noting that Madam Pomphrey was nowhere to be seen and Granger was still fast asleep. There was a gold halo around her head, flickering as it tracked her diagnostics. She truly looked every part an angel.
Draco pulled over a chair and sat next to her, taking her hand in his as he cleared his throat. “You would have loved lectures today,” he said, massaging the palm of her hand and fingers similarly to how his mum had massaged him when he had been used as an example. “All the professors asked loads of tricky Granger-esque questions, and I was the only person who seemed to be able to answer them…”
He droned on, pulling out his parchment and reading, the pages charmed to automatically flip for him when he got to the last line. Draco started reminiscing halfway through, thinking of how Hermione had been in their earlier school years. His thoughts then drifted to how they had been this year; starting off wary of each other until they had gone to one of Theo’s parties and had partaken in Veritaserum truth or dare. She had confessed she didn’t hate him ‘anymore’, and he had confessed she had a nice arse.
Their so-called friends had refused to obliviate either of them.
While Draco’s main focus of the year had been finding his soulmate, wanting to know who the bond was, he had developed a rapport with Granger. She had gone to all of his Quidditch matches, the Lions had become a fixed feature at their parties, and being around her, watching her be so free, had given him butterflies.
If she was his soulmate, falling in love with her would be as easy as breathing. Now finding himself distracted from reading lecture notes, he let out a sigh and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “I need to tell you something because you are the smartest person I know, and I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but if you can I need you to also promise you won’t hold any of this against me.”
Draco sucked in a breath before continuing, “Theo and I did a soul bond ritual at the start of term, and I keep thinking I’m close to figuring out which witch is mine. Every time I think I’m close, I feel like I am thrown off by something else, a new clue that comes up. I’m terrified of ending up alone, because in my heart, I do want to be true to whoever my soulmate is. For the longest time I didn’t even think anyone could be mine like that after… Well, after everything, but here I am, asking you for help because I just don’t know what to do anymore. Fuck, sometimes I had actually thought you were my soulmate, but how insane would that be, right?”
He couldn’t prove it, and it was so faint he thought he must have imagined it, but he could have sworn Hermione gently squeezed his hand.
It had been several days since the cauldron explosion, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he thought of everything that could have gone worse.
Granger could have been dead.
She would have if it hadn’t been for him.
Draco would have sworn that in that moment, he felt the same panic a soulmate felt and for a flicker of a second, he believed Hermione might be his witch. Despite becoming friendlier lately, he seriously doubted that she would ever reciprocate the feelings he was developing.
He imagined ways for her to thank him, and being in the Prefects’ tub alone, there was truly one indulgent daydream he let bubble to the surface.
As a rule, the tub was a guilt-free daydream zone from his anonymous soulmate.
Draco wrapped a hand around his cock and stroked from base to head, rubbing his thumb over the head. His other hand massaged his balls, tugging slightly on the sack as he imagined Granger wrapping her mouth around him. Her throat would be so warm and wet, and he’d tell her what a good girl she was and how pretty she looked on her knees for him.
He was so lost in thought, he didn’t hear the bathroom door open, and someone walk in.
“What in Merlin’s name are you doing?” Granger hissed, taking a step in as she broke him from his daydream. She was wearing a black silk robe, tugged shut so tightly that her nipples showed through the fabric.
“I’m bathing, Granger,” he smirked, biting his lip as he continued stroking himself. The visual of her standing there, nipples pebbled only added to his daydream.
“You’re not a Prefect!” She exclaimed.
“Neither are you, love,” he grinned. “And yet, here you are.”
Hermione’s eyes travelled down his arm and widened as she saw his hand pumping his cock before snapping back up. She turned halfway, modest as always.
“You cannot wank in the tub! That isn’t sanitary, Malfoy!”
“What are you going to do, Granger? Provide me a receptacle to spill my seed into. We all wank in the tub.” He released a little whimper and noticed how Hermione stole a glance.
“What are you even wanking to you Perv? I’m standing right here! That should have popped your little fantasy,” she pressed.
Oh, Granger, always inquisitive.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’ve only added to it.”
He was now certain that Hermione fucking Granger was his witch. His soulmate’s pulse was flickering in time with the breaths Hermione was taking. He could feel her conflicting arousal and hesitation coursing through his body, and she could likely feel his giddiness and lust in hers.
Testing the bounds of their bond, Draco pushed out a thought to Hermione: Do you want me as desperately as I want you?
“Draco,” she said, bringing her hand to her lips. “I can’t.”
“Yes you can, baby, no one will need to know.” Now that he knew he could push thoughts out to her, he would be abusing that privilege often.
His cock was throbbing and red, balls heavy, demanding release, so he released another moan. “I’ll protect you, your reputation, just… Join me.”
Draco enjoyed watching her chest heave as she internally deliberated, hoping he hadn’t sounded too needy. She dropped her robe.
Hermione was an absolute vision, her hair falling from her loose bun in wild, frizzy curls. Brains and beauty she was, as she stepped over the edge of the tub, her leg muscles flexing, arse plump.
Draco, losing patience with how slowly the witch was moving towards him, stuck his foot out, slipping it between her legs. He slid his foot up and yanked her forward, her hands colliding with his chest as she braced herself. His cock brushed against her soft belly, and he released it, sliding his hands up her thighs so his finger could sink into the flesh of her arse.
“Hey,” he grinned, their noses close enough so he could brush his against hers.
”Hi,” she breathed, her body still tense under his touch.
“Are you in need of winding down, Miss Granger? You’re feeling a bit flighty.”
”You can feel that, too?”
”Yes, ma’am. How long have you been able to feel my emotions?” He asked, curious as to how soon she had noticed them simmering beneath her skin.
“That evening I bumped into you and Nott. I was startled awake and didn’t know what was happening. It reminded me . . .” she paused. “It reminded me of what Harry had described the horcrux felt like inside of him, and I panicked.”
“Granger, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized, his hands sliding up and down her sides. “I never wanted to cause you harm again after… everything.”
“I did some research… in the library,” she said, her breath catching as Draco ran his lips across her clavicle. “And soon deduced that it was a soul bond instead, which was frankly equally as terrifying.”
”Did you know it was me?” He asked, the question having been burning in his mind since she had stepped in the tub. Surely she had.
“I did.”
”When?”
Hermione paused, her fingers tracing his sectum sempra scars.
“The first week of term.”
”What?!” Draco exclaimed, leaning back so he could truly look at her. “The first week of term? How?”
“Well, I made lists and charts, you know… And I quickly realized it was you whose emotions I was feeling. Especially, gods, during Quidditch, whenever you would dive I would feel your heart racing and I just knew it was you.”
“And you didn’t say anything?” Draco asked, bewildered as he thought about Hermione hunched over her desk, hair wild as she weighed the pros and cons of being with him – of choosing someone like him. Having her here in his arms almost stopped his heart pounding in his chest, knowing that she had decided he was worth it, that whatever this soul bond between them meant was something she wanted, too.
”Well, what was I to say, Draco? Hi, I know you hate me, but I feel deeply bound to you and this infuriating tension that is presumably one sided is beginning to consume me?”
”Granger, turn your brain off and touch me,” Draco ordered. “We will figure out the rest later.”
Hermione didn’t need any further encouragement as her hand slid down his torso until they landed on his cock. She let out a little gasp, wrapping both hands around it as she moved up and down the shaft. One hand drifted down, massaging his balls as her eyes drifted shut. It was taking significant effort to not finish as she shifted closer, her cunt brushing against him.
Salazar, he wanted to be inside of her.
”Touch me, too,” she whispered, her forehead falling against his.
His hands ran over her, not knowing where to truly start. He tilted her chin up and kissed her, while his other hand pulled and held the small of her back. He wanted this to be good for her, he wanted her to come back wanting more, wanting him. As they kissed, she abandoned his cock, her cunt now pressed against it, puffy and hot, as her hands tangled in his hair.
Hermione dragged her fingernails against his skull, and down his neck, sending gooseflesh erupting across his skin.
All Draco could do to stop himself from combusting was hold her tighter, scared that if he were to let go, she’d simply vanish in a poof. Hermione’s lips parted, her kisses growing frantic as she rocked her hips against his shaft. For a second, their mouths broke apart as she let out a gasp, only to return with a vengeance, her hips grinding frantically against him.
Draco settled his hands on her breasts, squeezing them as he groaned into her mouth, his thumbs rubbing circles on her nipples as he felt them harden.
Even in the moonlit darkness, he could see her skin flushing, their bond charged in synchrony.
“Draco, I’m so close,” she breathed as her nails dug into his shoulders to anchor herself.
“I’ve got you, baby, going to feel so good coming for me,” he said before he pulled her nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking across the tip. Draco laved a wider stripe across the flesh of her breast.
“Can you,” she panted, “be inside of me when I come? It feels so much better when you’re filled.”
A curdle of jealousy built in his chest. Who else had been filling her? Draco slid a hand down her back and beneath her thigh, sliding one finger, then two inside of her cunt. Hermione really was close, her walls fluttering with each heavy breath she took.
“I meant with your cock,” she said, lifting enough so that he could slide inside of her, the tip of his head nestled against her cunt.
As she sank lower, the stretch of her around him threatened to push him over the edge. Draco fought the urge to slam up into her, taking the time to memorize her face as her mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ and her eyes scrunched shut.
With Hermione here with him on his lap, he wanted to cling to every detail, commit it all to memory.
Then Hermione was moving, moving up and down while managing to grind her clit to his pelvis as she bottomed out on his cock.
Up, down, grind, up, down, grind.
“Granger,” he said, nuzzling into her neck. His sensibilities were getting lost in the haze of curls and lavender wafting up from the water in the tub. He felt his balls tensing, cock pulsing; one more moment and he was sure to lose all control.
“Do it, Draco,” she commanded, having heard the neediness in his voice. “Come inside me.”
Hermione sunk down on him, letting out a gasp as she clenched around his cock. Draco grasped her waist and rocked her back and forth, on his cock as he spilled inside her, heat filling her cunt.
“I’m going to steal your heart, Granger,” he vowed.
She placed her hand on his chest, lifted his hand to settle between her breasts. “The way it’s pounding, I think you already have.”