Soul Mate - Chapter 29:
When Harry woke again, the dull pain in his head was gone.
The weakness that had clung to his body for days had vanished as if it had never existed.
In its place was a clarity, a lightness, a strange, vibrant energy that made him feel almost new.
Eyes still closed, he reached for his glasses on the bedside table.
The familiar weight settled on his nose, and when he opened his eyes,
the first thing he saw was a head of shining platinum hair.
There really was no mistaking Draco Malfoy.
That flawless silver-blond color could only belong to a Malfoy.
Harry smiled faintly. Even now, even here, Draco was unmistakable.
He blinked. Draco had fallen asleep in the chair beside him,
his head resting on one hand, his posture relaxed, elegant even in exhaustion.
It occurred to Harry that he might never get another chance like this. His fingers itched.
He told himself it was harmless curiosity just a touch.
Carefully, he reached out and let his fingers brush through Draco’s hair.
It was impossibly soft, smoother than he had imagined.
Harry’s heart gave an odd flutter, and he found he didn’t want to stop.
Draco didn’t stir, didn’t even shift. Poor man he must be exhausted.
How long had Harry been unconscious? Long enough for
Draco to return from his mission, apparently.
A soft chuckle escaped him. He kept stroking Draco’s hair, slow and gentle,
then without thinking, his touch drifted downward to the curve of Draco’s cheek.
Draco’s face was paler than usual too pale. The sight made Harry frown.
He’d have to talk to him later, tell him not to run himself ragged just to take care of others.
Merlin, but he was beautiful. His features were delicate yet sharp,
his face carved with a kind of effortless grace. And those eyes
Harry remembered them clearly, that cool gray-blue that could steal his breath when they met his.
Harry’s fingertips ghosted across his skin again, light as air, tracing the line of his jaw,
the slope of his lips, the arch of his brow. He had never examined anyone so carefully before,
never dared to look so closely. It felt like memorizing him
like capturing a moment that would slip away if he blinked.
He should have stopped. He didn’t. Each touch only made him smile more softly,
as if his heart had found something it had been missing all along.
Outside the door, Hermione stood frozen, one hand clamped over
her mouth to keep from crying out. Her eyes burned with tears she refused to shed.
Harry, she thought helplessly, do you even know what you’re doing?
Do you know who you’re touching? That’s your soulmate. Your one and only.
Her vision blurred. If only time could have been kinder.
If Draco had had one more year no, even six months things could have been different.
Harry’s choice would have been different.
But it was too late. Harry had made his decision long ago,
had turned away from the bond fate had written for him.
That path was closed now, forever. Hermione’s chest ached with grief and resignation.
And Draco his choice was even more final. One life for another.
She didn’t dare imagine how long he could endure the curse that now belonged to him.
She turned away abruptly, unable to watch another second. If she stayed,
she would break her vow, run into that room, and tell Harry everything.
But she couldn’t. She mustn’t.
In a quiet corridor where no one could see, Hermione wiped the tears from her face and
hurried to the owlery. Her hands shook as she wrote a letter to Ron and Ginny,
telling them only that Harry had finally woken.
It had been four days since she’d confessed the truth to Draco
four days since she told him about the life exchange spell.
And just last night, under her silent witness, Draco had performed it flawlessly.
He had taken the curse onto himself, absorbing every trace of the dark magic that
had been killing Harry.
She had promised Draco to keep his secret. After Harry was discharged,
she would encourage him and Ginny to go on their long-delayed honeymoon,
so that when Draco’s symptoms began, Harry wouldn’t notice.
Draco should have gone home already, but he had refused.
He wanted—needed—to see Harry wake up. Hermione hadn’t stopped him.
When the owl disappeared into the sky, Hermione stood still, her heart heavy.
Was she doing the right thing? Or had she just made the worst mistake of her life?
Perhaps she’d been selfish, valuing Harry’s life too much, at the cost of another’s.
But it was done.
She gave a small, broken laugh and took a deep breath before returning to the hospital room.
Her nerves were fraying; even facing an army of Death Eaters had not terrified her this much.
How could she look at either of them now and still feel clean?
Who’s out there? came Harry’s voice from inside.
Hermione steadied herself and stepped in, forcing a bright smile.
Harry, you’re awake! How do you feel?
I’m fine, Hermione, he said. But maybe you should call a healer.
Draco looks like death warmed over.
Draco scowled. Harry, comparing me to an Inferius is a
grave insult to the head of the Malfoy family.
Harry turned to look at him and frowned. I’m serious, Draco.
You should see a mirror. You’re completely white. You look well, you look terrible.
Maybe you should get checked out.
Draco sighed, pushed himself up, and walked to the mirror.
A few lazy charm flicks later, he admitted defeat.
All right. I look dreadful. I’m going home to rest. And for the record,
I came straight here from a mission to check on a certain reckless savior.
Harry smiled. Then you deserve a break. Say hello to your mother for me
she’s probably worried sick.
Draco nodded, brushing past Hermione on his way out. She swallowed hard.
I’ll tell Ginny and Ron the good news, Harry. You really don’t feel any pain?
None, Hermione. I feel great.
She managed a small smile, then hurried out the door.
Draco was leaning heavily against the wall, his hand trembling.
He looked like he could barely stay upright.
Draco, are you all right? she whispered, rushing to steady him.
He didn’t answer at first, only fumbled for a potion vial from his pocket.
He drank one. Then another. Then a third. Slowly, color returned to his face
enough that he could stand without swaying.
What did you just take? Hermione asked.
A concentrated stimulant. You wouldn’t want me splinching myself mid-apparition, would you?
He tucked the empty bottles away, his eyes cold
but soft at the edges. Remember what you promised.
I will, Hermione murmured. I know what an Unbreakable Vow means.
Good.
Draco turned one last time toward the hospital room.
His expression was unreadable half tenderness, half sorrow.
Then, without another word, he Disparate.
Hermione stayed where she was, leaning against the wall,
her heart breaking quietly in her chest.