Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ unbreakableBOND ❯ A Letter From Aunt Petunia ( Chapter 7 )

A/N: I don’t own Harry Potter.
OIII!!!:…..Did the ‘I’ always look like that? They look different…Anyhoo, I have something funny to tell you all, but you’ll have to read the end note!!! XD

unbreakableBOND

Chapter Seven: A Letter From Aunt Petunia

Harry awoke from his fitful slumber when his body processed that Draco’s heat was missing for far too long. It was Saturday and judging by the time Draco had just left or was just about to leave for the Great Hall. Draco never woke Harry on days that they didn’t have to attend class - Harry assumed it was because Draco was just wanted to be a prat.

That or he knew - embarrassed as he as to admit it - that he would wake soon after Draco left the bed anyway. Something about not having anything warm to cling onto got to Harry sooner or later. Lately, it had been sooner, much sooner. Harry cursed the damned vow for the nth time for turning him into some kind of mush of a man. He now required the presence of Draco Malfoy just so he could sleep well, and had to be held by him the entire time to boot.

What a sad, sad life he was leading, Harry mused. Harry saw Draco pass by the open bedroom door, the blond took a look in and upon seeing Harry awake turned and headed for the portrait hole. Harry sighed, wondering when it had come to this. To Draco leaving as soon as he could, to short words and quick kisses, but only when it became too much for them to stand. Draco would often initiate these kisses, and for that Harry was grateful. He knew that at the moment he wouldn’t be able to do such a thing - his stubborn Gryffindor nature wouldn’t let him.

Harry was beginning to suspect that Draco was keeping something from him, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. Today he had to start tryouts, for he was captain of the Quidditch team, as was Draco, who had tryouts tomorrow.

Harry stretched and got out of bed, made quick work of showering and dressing and then went down to the Great Hall, shedding his cloak on the fourth floor. When he entered the Great Hall, Harry noted that Draco didn’t even glance in his direction, just continued on his conversation with Crabbe and Goyle about who knew what. Harry spared a look at the teachers table and saw that the space for the DADA teacher was still open.

When they had returned to Hogwarts the position had yet to be filled; instead, Dumbledore and was teaching the class until they could find a suitable teacher. It wasn’t that Dumbledore was bad at teaching, oh, no, he just seemed to say things that no one ever really got… well excluding Hermione, that is.

“Hey, Harry,” Ron greeted as he sat down.

“Morning, Ron, Hermione, Ginny” Harry said.

“Morning,” Hermione replied, not looking up from her book on magical bond mates.

“Good morning, Harry,” Ginny replied, sweetly, and a bit too forcefully, fluttering her eyelashes and thrusting out her chest a bit. Harry winced at the display but smiled none the less.

“You ready for the tryouts today, mate?” Ron asked, biting savagely into a piece of bacon.

Harry watched in mild disgust as the piece of dead pig rolled around in Ron’s mouth, making little crunchy noises here and there. “Yea, I guess.”

“Good, I can’t wait till our first match,” Ron said, or at least that’s what he would have if some toast hadn’t joined the bacon in the confines of Ron’s mouth.

“Ronald, close your mouth while you’re chewing,” Hermione told him, flipping a page in her book.

Ron swallowed and said to Harry, “I hear there’s this first year whose supposed to be a pretty decent beater, I think his names Kavery or something. He could fill Harlin’s place.”

“Yea, but this Kavery kid is said to be dead terrified of Malfoy, apparently in one of his little return to power trips Kavery accidentally knocked Malfoy’s books out of his hand. The git made him pick it up with his teeth. We can’t put Kavery out there with Malfoy, not until he gets over it, anyway.” Harry picked up his glass of pumpkin juice and took a little sip.

“Did the bastard really do that?” Ron asked, eyes wide.

“Yes, although when I asked him about it he said it was ‘necessary to show his house he wasn’t an easy target.’ Easy target my arse, I don’t know why anyone would go after him, I’m not in Slytherin and even I know what the Malfoy name means to them.”

“Harry, Slytherin is based on politics, he can’t be any less than his name exemplifies,” Hermione interjected.

“Are you defending him?” Harry asked, incredulously.

“No, not his methods, but I can see where he’s coming from. Blaise Zabini has quite a little following with him these days. Mark my words, there will be a showdown in the Slytherin house, and either Zabini or Malfoy will go down, permanently.” At that statement a horde of owls came swooping in, dropping letters and parcels to their owners all across the hall.

“Hey, Harry, that one is headed for you,” Ginny pointed out a large brown barn owl that Harry didn’t recognise. The owl dove and landed right next to Harry, holding out it’s leg.

“It’s a mailer owl,” Ron said, as Harry untied the letter from it’s leg. Harry gave the owl a few bits on toast and it was off.

“Whose it from?” Hermione asked, looking up from her book.

“My Aunt Petunia,” Harry said in a raspy voice as a wave of guilt washed over him. It had been over a month since he had last seen his aunt, and he’d been so busy with the bond and all that he’d completely forgotten to write to her and let her know how he was doing. He could just imagine her, passing by the now empty bedroom, hearing his uncle’s rumbling voice in the background, wondering if he was even alive.

“I’m going to go read this somewhere else.” Harry stood, and shot Draco a look, then left the hall.

Harry walked into the nearest classroom and took a quill and some parchment for his reply from the teacher’s desk. Having done that he went out a side door onto the grounds of Hogwarts, sitting down by the lake.

Harry opened the letter, taking in the sight of his aunt’s delicate writing.

Dear Harry,

I hope I’m not putting you in any danger by sending this, but I was just so worried! I had to go down to the Leaky Cauldron to get the mailer owl, it was all very strange. As soon as I stepped through the door everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at me. They knew, Harry, they knew who I was. How did they know? Anyway, enough about me. Are you well? How’s school? And your friends? I hope you’re not studying too hard, you’ve told me how Hermione gets. Did you make Quidditch captain? I know you said they’d probably choose you, but they might have chosen Ron instead. Wait, you are at school aren’t you? I know you were talking of not going back this year to focus solely on defeating him.

Harry, I don’t want to worry you, but something strange is going on around here. I feel as if I’m being watched almost all the time. The other day, Dudley came home nearly crying of fright! He said he’d been walking through the park when some man started questioning him about you. Apparently the man started to push him and knocked him on the ground. Well, you know Dudley, he got right back up and had a go at him. But then the man pulled out a wand. Poor Dudley was so scared, he just ran away without a backwards glance.

Harry, is everything alright with You-Know-Who? I didn’t think he was able to get around the wards or whatever here. I hope I didn’t put you in any danger or scare you or anything. Please write back and let me know how you are if you can. Good luck in school!

Love,
Aunt Petunia.

Harry folded the letter and stuffed it in his jeans pocket. Laying his head back against the tree he exhaled a rather large sigh. How was he supposed to deal with this now? Someone was stalking the Dursley’s, most likely a Death Eater, he was getting more and more tired by the second for lack of contact with Draco, he had to host Quidditch tryouts today and who knew what else.

He pulled out the parchment and rechargeable quill he brought with him and began to write.

Dear Aunt Petunia,

Don’t worry, you didn’t get me into any trouble or put me in any danger. Yes, I am at school, something came up rather unexpectedly, that’s why I left so quickly. I’m so sorry I didn’t write sooner, Aunt Petunia, it’s just that the thing that came up kind of won’t leave. But, before I get into that, let me ask you this. The man that attacked Dudley, what did he look like? Did he wear a mask? Did Dudley notice any kind of tattoo on his arm? I don’t know why Voldemort would go after you all, he knows I’m not there. I know there are wards to fend off anyone whose magical signature hasn’t been put into the wards. I don’t know how far that covers though, I’ll have to speak with Professor Dumbledore about it. Until then, you all should just stay close to home or in very public places.

I made Captain, I have to hold tryouts this afternoon, it’s so very tiring. I would have been ecstatic had it not been for this little problem I have. Don’t worry, it’s not Voldemort; no, it’s much, much worse.

I’ve been forced into some kind of arranged ‘marriage’ with Draco Malfoy. Apparently, seven generations ago the Potters were great friends with the Malfoys and made some kind of inane pact that their families would join together. They made it so that if their children didn’t fulfill the vow then they had until the 7th generation before the vow would force the two closest decedents into ‘bonding’, which is like the same thing as marriage, I suppose.

I know, Malfoy’s a boy, but in the Wizarding world, this isn’t a problem. Did you know that men can have babies? Men! And no one bothered to mention that to me! Now Malfoy and I are stuck in a room together, trying not to let the rest of the school know about us. And that’s not the worst of it! I can’t even sleep well if he’s not bloody holding me. Every day he goes down to the dungeons after classes to do how knows what, trying to keep some bloody status with the Slytherins. I tried to stay in our rooms while he was down there, but I just got too lonely, so now I spend the rest of the day up in the tower. Oh, I forgot to mention, Malfoy and I have to be pretty close to one another at all times, otherwise the vow makes us tired or jerks us to get as close as possible to the other, it’s pretty twisted. So, with me in the tower and him in the dungeons we’ve been pretty sleepy lately.

Well, I don’t want to worry about it all, Hermione is trying to find something to counter this, so I’m not too worried. I’ll speak with Dumbledore about the attack on Dudley, so don’t think too much on it. Write back if you can.

Love,
Harry

Harry shook the parchment to let it dry some before shoving it in an envelope and writing Petunia’s information on the outside. Standing, he pocketed the quill and went up to the owlerly to send off the letter.

------

“Harry, are you sure you want him as a Beater? I think he’d be better suited as a Chaser.” Ron was standing next to Harry on the Pitch, it was during tryouts and Ron was referring to a boy named Phil King.

“Ron, you’re only saying that so Kavery can be a Beater; besides, this kids got some real potential.” Harry turned his gaze back to the game at hand, then added, “And he’s not afraid of Malfoy.” once he saw the look on his best friends face.

“Are not!” Ron returned, just a bit too quickly. Harry laughed and thought how nice it was to be here and just be normal. Have normal problems and a normal day and normal friends and no stupid bloody un-normal situation waiting for him when he stepped off his broom.

Unfortunately for Harry, the small blip of blond in the bleachers just served to remind him how un-normal his life had to be.

Tryouts came to a close and Harry landed, telling everyone that he’d post the roster tomorrow. Green eyes turned upward to find grey, only to realize they were gone.

Harry threw off his cloak and looked up into the unsmiling face of Sir Yamiko, the painting that guarded the door.

“Password?!” Sir Yamiko snapped.

“Er, are you quite alright, Sir Yamiko?” Harry asked, backing up a little to get a good look at the large portrait.

“Oh, yes, fine, fine,” he hissed out in a tone that said he was anything but, “Password?”

“Uhm,” Harry began, he wasn’t sure whether or not he should press the issue with the irate vampire, or if he should let it go and give him the password. The little glint in the living dead man’s eyes told him to press on. “You know, we can talk about, I… I don’t want you being upset.”

Sir Yamiko glared at Harry for a few seconds, and in those few seconds Harry thought he may jump out and kill him. Finally, the look softened and Sir Yamiko spoke, “Do you know anything about vampires?”

The question took Harry by surprise so he just shook his head, no.

“There are certain things vampires are susceptible to and certain things we have a sort of affinity for. Of course, all vampires aren’t the same.” Sir Yamiko paused, thinking of his next words, “I, in particular, am very susceptible to animosity, I don’t handle that too well. And not just animosity towards me, but just in general.” Harry had a feeling where this was leading and didn’t like that direction at all. He was seriously regretting pressing this.

“I’m what they call in my native Japan a koibito yami, a dark lover.” Here Sir Yamiko looked down at Harry in a way that made him feel as though if he didn’t understand, Sir Yamiko might just run off and kill himself.

Well, if hadn’t already been dead, anyway.

“So, what you’re saying is, the tension between Malfoy and me is messing with you?” Harry asked finally.

“Oh! I knew you would get it! Such a smart, smart boy,” Sir Yamiko purred, then grinned widely to show off his fangs.

Harry sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead, “I’ll try and work on that.”

“Oh, good! Password?”

“Amo cruor.”

Harry stepped through the portrait hole, wondering why in the bloody name of all that was magical he had to be stuck with the one portrait in the entire castle that couldn’t handle ‘animosity.’

Harry thought that was a load of crap, considering that he and Draco would actually have to speak in order to have some animosity. Wait, that’s not true, you could totally hate someone and not speak to them. Was it totally obvious? Well, that was kind of a dumb question.

Harry plopped down on a chair that sat next to a window. He could tell that the wind was really blowing outside, and felt a chill in the air. Harry set his head against the window and felt the cold from outside seep into his skin, causing a shiver to run through his body.

It was then that Draco came out of the bedroom, from the way his clothes looked Harry could tell he’d been sleeping. They both did a lot of sleeping these days, probably because they were so drained from being away from each other all the time.

One thing Harry had never told Draco was that he never went to the tower when the blond was down in the dungeons. It was just way too far away, and Harry couldn’t take the distance. He had no idea if Draco had felt the burning when they had been that far apart from each other, but every day when Draco went down to the dungeons, Harry donned his Invisibility Cloak and followed, a few minutes behind. Harry would then sit outside of the Slytherin common room and wait for Draco to appear.

Harry knew he should say something, anything to let Draco know what was really going on. But for some inexplicable reason Harry felt that if he told Draco that he’d been waiting for him outside of Slytherin all those times that something would break in this thing they had going. Harry would either be forced in to spending more awkward time with Draco or spending awkward time in the tower.

That first day in the tower, it had been like old times. That is, until everyone had wanted answers of why he wasn’t in the tower. It seemed that after he’d told them, everyone had become a bit distant, if only for a moment, but they had. He couldn’t take that, and he didn’t need Ron and Hermione pestering him all the time about one thing or another. He also didn’t need Ginny practically throwing herself at him when all he could find attractive were thoughts of a certain naked blond.

Harry shook his head and noticed that said blond was now sitting on the couch, reading a book of some sort.

“You had a few good players today,” Draco said suddenly, not looking up from his book.

Harry stared at the back of the boy’s head before answering, “Yea, some real potential. I like that Kavery boy, but there’s no way I can put him on the field.”

“Why not?” Draco asked, leaning back into the couch and sighing a bit.

“Don’t you remember? He’s the boy the nearly pisses his pants when your name is even mentioned.”

Draco set his book down on his lap and turned to face Harry. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t put him out there with you,” Harry answered, “He’d be too scared, he might drop right off his broom or something!” Harry realised this was not where he wanted this conversation to head. He had just worked up enough courage to tell Draco that he wanted this awkwardness to end and now they were more than likely about to get into a fight over Quidditch, of all things.

“Well, it’s not my fault the kid can’t handle himself!” Draco yelled, turning back to his book.

Harry sighed and stood, then walked over to the couch and plopped down next to the blond.

“What?!” Draco snapped.

“I wanted to be near you.” The words were out off his mouth before he could stop them and Harry immediately felt a blush grace his cheeks. He had no idea what possessed him to say such a stupid thing like that! It had been what he’d been thinking but it hadn’t really come out correctly.

Draco’s glare softened and all of a sudden he was grinning like a fool.

“It’s not funny!” Harry swatted Draco on the arm. Draco’s only answer was to grin harder. “Listen, I need to talk to you.”

Draco closed his book and turned completely to Harry, “What is it?”

“Well,” Harry steeled himself. Here he was, Harry Potter , Gryffindor Golden Boy extraordinaire, about to tell Draco Malfoy that he…what? Wanted to settle their differences? No, he couldn’t say that, there was no way they could do it anyway. What to say? That he thought this entire thing was stupid and that they had no reason to be ashamed about their current situation as it wasn’t their fault? Yes, that could work.

“Well what?” Draco’s voice broke Harry out of his internal struggle to not sound like a complete idiot and get back to the task at hand.

Before Harry could stop himself he blurted, “Sir Yamiko can’t stand it when we fight!” Draco blinked and opened his mouth to say something but Harry continued, “So we should, you know, start being nice and all that because Sir Yamiko is a koibito yami or whatever and he has to be surrounded by love or he gets angry! So, uh,….we should talk more or something because the tension gets to him….” Harry trailed off when he saw the look on Draco’s face.

“So,” he stated, icily, “You’re saying that you want to be civil because Sir Yamiko gets in a hissy if he isn’t surrounded by love and puppies?”

“Well…a bit I suppose…but we should do it anyway…I mean who knows how long we’re going to be stuck together like this. I really couldn’t stand it if we hated each other for the next…well, however long.” Harry really couldn’t bring himself to say what he’d been thinking, which was that they may be stuck together for the rest of their natural lives…and maybe even after that.

“I’m glad to see what I’ve been trying to tell you has finally sunken in…even if it did take someone else to make it stick.” Draco picked his book back up and began reading his page once more.

Harry watched him for a moment, there had been more he had wanted to say, something about them being able to, er, touch each other? Without feeling awkward after. Except Harry felt awkward thinking about it, but he knew he needed it.

God, did he need it right now. Watching Draco reading his book so intently, a piece of hair falling over his right eye, but Draco paid no mind to it. His long pale fingers rested on a corner of the book, ready to turn the page when necessary - and those lips! They were pursed in such a way that made you just want to lean right over and kiss them like there was no tomorrow. At the moment Harry could only think of one word to describe Draco, and that was radiant.

“Malfoy?” Harry’s voice came out in a whisper, and Draco slowly turned his head to face Harry.

Draco didn’t say anything, but Harry could see the question in his eyes. After a moment the corners of his mouth came up a bit, revealing a small smile. Still holding his book, Draco leaned over and placed a soft kiss on the torn Gryffindor’s mouth.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief on the mouth connected with his own. All he could think of was how god it felt to finally, finally let go of some of this tension, and that the blondes mouth definitely knew what it was doing. He could feel how excited the vow was in response to this, it’s jumpy tingling crawling up his arm and all down his body making more of his senses more alert than ever.

When they broke apart, Harry wasn’t left with that empty feeling he sometimes got, like someone came in and ripped off your right arm suddenly. Instead, he felt better than ever and the tingly feeling stayed.

He heard Draco’s small chuckle but the Slytherin was already back in his book, so Harry didn’t bother questioning him.

And that night, when Harry woke up from a nightmare in Draco’s arms, he didn’t even mind, because it felt so good. Instead, he snuggled deeper into the other boy’s embrace, and went back to sleep, hoping that this feeling would last till morning.

Needless to say, when Harry awoke he next morning that brilliant feeling he had was gone, but not completely. He still felt he little tingles of the vow all over his body, though it was very weak now. Harry figured it had something to do with the fact that he was still in Draco’s arms and not alone and cold in bed.

In fact, he as so deeply enfolded in the other boy’s arms there was no way he could get out without waking him. Harry sighed and looked over at the clock on the night stand table. They really needed to get up if they wanted to get anything from the Great Hall and not the kitchens. Besides, Harry knew Draco would be angry if they were both to be missing from breakfast.

“Malfoy?” Harry whispered, shifting a bit. He remembered that Draco wasn’t the easiest person to wake, and that he was a sloppy sleeper, although he was missing the drool today. “Oi, Malfoy!” Harry gave a hard shove to the blond’s chest.

At this, Draco rolled over, on top of Harry, and then, the drool did start. “Don’t you worry, love, that Hippogriff’s not going to hurt you,” Draco was saying.

“I’m not worried about the Hippogriff, I’m worried about you suffocating me!” Harry gasped out, trying to push Draco off him.

“It’s okay, I’ve faced a Hippogriff before, I know how to handle them.” Draco was now starting to caress Harry’s head in an odd manner, as if he were a dog, and the drool hadn’t stopped and was now threatening to fall right on Harry’s cheek.

“No, you don’t!” Harry screamed, “You’re dead terrified of Hippogriffs!” The Gryffindor’s yell caused such vibrations that Draco’s drop of drool fell right on to Harry’s cheek, under his right eye, before sliding away into his hair. “Oh, God, is this going to be life with you, Malfoy?! Getting drooled on every morning?!”

“Potter,” Draco said blearily, looking down at the boy beneath him, “Are you crying?”

Later, even Draco couldn’t deny that he deserved that punch to the jaw.

Harry and Ron were sitting in the bleachers on the pitch, watching the Slytherin tryouts. At the moment, Draco was soaring high above them, watching all the action with Theodore Nott, and discussing things Harry could not hear.

Although, Harry did know that at the moment, Draco was rather distracted. He could tell from the vow, most likely, and it probably had little to do with the fact that Harry was watching and all to do with the fact that Blaise Zabini was.

Blaise was on the Quidditch team as well, and Draco couldn’t just kick him off because of a fallout they’d had, that would be something Blaise would do, not Draco. Besides, he was the best Chaser Slytherin had, hell he was probably the best Chaser in all of Hogwarts, even Harry could admit that.

“So, how goes you with the Ice Prince?” Ron asked, popping a Bernie Botts Every Flavoured Bean in his mouth.

“The Ice Prince, Ron?” Harry returned.

“You know, the dragon.” Ron ate another bean, smiling slightly at the flavour.

“I know, I just can’t believe you called him that. It’s as good as it could be, I guess. I don’t completely hate him anymore if that’s what you mean.” Harry watched Ron splutter on a bean for a moment, once the red head had regained his speech he gasped out, “Vomit.”

“Well, I can’t say I approve of you two getting all buddy-buddy or whatever but I understand that you have to in this kind of situation. I’m just glad it’s not me.”

Ron’s words made Harry remember something Draco had told him awhile ago and now that he’d remembered he wanted to know the truth.

“Hey, Ron? How come you never told me that you and Malfoy used to be best friends?” Harry watched as Ron choked on yet another bean, this time it had nothing to do with the taste.

“What? He told you that?!” Ron’s face was the colour of a pepper; whether from anger or embarrassment, Harry didn’t know.

“Yea, but he wouldn’t tell me why you aren’t anymore.”

“Well, that is, er……Harry can we not talk about this? I don’t really want to. Oh, look, there finishing up, let’s go, yeah? I’m kind of hungry.” With that Ron started down the stairs of the bleachers, with an annoyed Harry following behind.

It was Monday morning in the Great Hall, and no one was looking forward to the day of classes ahead. Harry, however was more focused on the mail. He’d sent Hedwig with Aunt Petunia’s letter two days ago, there was no way it’s take her that long to fly from here to Surrey.

“Harry,” Hermione said, “I’m sure your aunt is just having trouble with what to write you or she doesn’t want Hedwig to leave, yet. They’re having some bad weather over there, it’s nothing really, Hedwig’s fine.”

“Thanks, ‘Mione,” Although he was anything but thankful.

Hermione nodded and took a sip of her orange juice.

“Students of Hogwarts.” Everyone looked up at he teachers table to see Dumbledore standing at the podium. “I have an announcement to make. We have found the perfect person to fulfill the open Defense Against the Dark Arts position, and I would ask that you all give him the proper respect he deserves.”

Confusion was written across most faces at this statement, excitement on others, and on two people’s understanding was drawn.

As Draco was across the room, Harry couldn’t very well ask him to translate, so Hermione was left with that job.

“He’s hired a magical creature,” she whispered, excitement lacing her voice. “I wonder what kind? Maybe another werewolf?”

“I would like to introduce you to your new, teacher.” The doors to the Great Hall were thrown open, and Harry gasped, looking for Draco across the room.

The Slytherin nodded at Harry, telling them they’d talk about this later, but to go along with it for now. The man walked up to the teachers table, whispers following him. Once there, he turned on his snakeskin boot and hissed out in his seductive voice, “Hello, students, my name is Sir Yamiko.” A wink was thrown at Harry.

A/N: Well, there you go! Quicker than my last one, yay! Okay, so I have something funny to tell you all. Did you know that when I write these I always go back to make sure that the number of words end in zero? Yea, it’s actually really trying, you know, but I just thought I’d share that with you all. Okay, review!!!

OH! I’ve changed the name a bit, if you haven’t noticed, it’s now called unbreakableBOND, just because I like how that looks.