Bond by AnnaFugazzi
What I love the most about this fic is that I wasn’t quite sure what was going to happen until the very end, and even then, I was teetering on the edge of doubt. As much as I love your traditional, “Oh, they’re gonna end up together” fics, I’m doubly in love with one that keeps me on the edge of my seat. This is definitely one of them. I warn you, there’s angst in this bad boy, but there’s also love and some fucking hawt as hell sex scenes. All I have to say to you is... Go, Go Gryffindor!
From the author...
Yet another one of those Harry And Draco Are Forced To Be Together By Something Beyond Their Control And Then Stuff Happens Leading To Twoo Wuv stories. Because every HD writer has to write at least one. Finished
Here’s a taste of the fic...
Oh, god. He closed his eyes tightly, willing himself back to sleep, desperately hoping he could somehow make whatever he'd been dreaming about real, and this morning's reality a nightmare only.
He opened his eyes again. No. No such luck.
He looked over at the next bed. Potter was still asleep, his face peaceful and relaxed, and Draco was seized with an almost overwhelming urge to hit him. Hard. For daring to look so untroubled when here they were, in the hospital, facing the first day of the rest of their lives bloody well shackled together.
Draco turned his back to Potter, hoping he could convince himself that he was just in the hospital due to a Quidditch injury. Pushed that thought away, because that made him think about Quidditch and that was too painful to deal with first thing in the morning. Unfortunately, just about everything else that came to mind was also too painful to deal with first thing in the morning.
And it was odd, he thought, how his mind couldn't seem to decide between frantically skittering away from the memory of Pomfrey's information session last night, and rehashing it in excruciating detail. Especially the part about eventually needing to touch one another - and Draco's mouth twisted in disgust, as he felt absolutely no desire to touch Potter right now in any way other than violently. But apparently they'd feel compelled to touch, casually at first, then for comfort, and then, eventually, in a sexual manner. Draco grimaced at that thought too. Not a good image, that one. Not that touching another boy that way was all that disgusting a concept, but Harry Potter of all people. God, how revolting. Only marginally better than touching a Mudblood.
Draco sighed and closed his eyes again. It could have been worse, he tried to tell himself. He could have walked past that bloody door arguing with Hermione Granger.
Actually, no. There wasn't any way of making this any better. Granger would've been awful and a horrible embarrassment to the pure-blooded Malfoy family, but in the end she was just a Mudblood. As long as Draco didn't have children with her (and he would have made sure he didn't) she would've been tolerable. She wasn't the enemy of their family's Lord.
Draco couldn't imagine how their family would survive this blow. The Dark Lord surely wouldn't feel he could trust Lucius' loyalty to remain unshakeable. Maybe, in a few years, when the spell had worn down a little and the bond was less raw, it would be possible for Draco to survive with few ill effects once Voldemort vanquished Potter. But... the confrontation was supposed to happen soon. And Voldemort would surely not totally trust a man who knew that his only son might die if Potter was killed or injured.
So much for Father's position as Voldemort's right-hand man.
God, this was so utterly horrible.
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