-Drarry- Unwavering Love Ch.12

Bonding

When he fell down on his bed, he laughed into his pillow, Harry, his mate, had kissed him. Kissed him! He turned around and grinned up at the canopy of his bed. Even though Harry didn't accept the bond, it still was wonderful to him. And now he was even more sure than ever Harry truly would. Kisses don't lie, and he could feel Harry's emotions. So he was sure his mate was honest with him. Eventually he fell asleep, dreaming about his dark haired, green eyed mate.

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Draco awoke after one of the best nights of sleep he ever had. He yawned and got out of bed, got dressed and walked downstairs.

He rubbed his eyes, and when he saw Harry, he smiled. The thing that he failed to notice, was the murderous look in Harry's eyes, and before he knew it, Harry had punched him in the face. Right on his cheekbone. He rubbed the spot, and looked at Harry, eyes hurt.

"Did you buy me an entire new wardrobe?" Harry hissed venomously.

Draco nodded, still rubbing his left cheek. "Why did you punch me?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. "For being an absolute idiot." When Draco's hurt look still stayed on his face, Harry took his hand, and pulled him to the kitchen. "I'll get you some ice for that cheek, okay?"

Draco nodded and seated himself on a chair. Harry got some ice and covered it with a tea-towel. He grabbed a chair and seated himself across from Draco, and put the ice against his cheek. Draco winced, but welcomed the coldness. "I am sorry for punching you, though. I didn't mean to."

"Apology accepted." He tried to smile, but it ended up looking more like a grimace. He finally took a good look at Harry. "But the clothes do look good on you."

Harry blushed, but scowled. "Maybe, but you didn't have to buy me an entire new wardrobe."

Draco shrugged. "It was your birthday, and you're my mate. You deserve the best, and nothing less."

Harry just shook his head, his pendant softly swinging from side to side. Draco kept looking at it. "You know, it looks perfect on you. Especially the emerald eye."

Harry smiled, and continued holding the towel against Draco's cheek.

A few minutes later, Narcissa walked into the kitchen. "What happened?"

"Well, you see, it was like this-."

But Harry cut him off. "I punched him."

Narcissa looked at her son and raised an eyebrow. "What have you done to deserve that? From your mate no less."

"Because I bought him some clothes."

Harry scowled. "Because the idiot bought me an entire wardrobe full of new clothes, shoes, etcetera. That's why I punched him."

Draco ignored him, and looked at his mother. "Where's dad?"

"Oh, he's left to go to work already. Something about needing to catch up. He won't return until late tonight. And he will leave early tomorrow, too."

Draco sighed and shook his head. His father always worked hard, and hardly could say no. Narcissa made herself some breakfast, told them to eat something, and left to go to work.

Harry pulled the towel away and examined Draco's cheek. He touched it gently, but when Draco winced, he pulled away again. "I think it could leave behind a bruise." This time he looked slightly guilty. But when he saw Draco that morning, he wanted to let him know what an idiot he was. The message was loud and clear.

Draco grinned wryly. "You think? Where did you learn to punch like that?"

Harry shrugged and put the towel against Draco's cheek again. "Well, I had to defend myself, and had to learn how to take, or give, a punch. But I'm sorry for reacting this way. It is no way to thank you for what you did." Harry hung his head in shame, but Draco lifted his hand, his fingers gently gripping his chin.

"Don't feel guilty, Harry. Yes, I'd rather you verbally assaulted me, than physically, but then again, we would never had agreed. And we still do not. You think I'm an idiot, I see it as taking care of my mate, whom I care about, and would never see hurt, or otherwise."

Harry smiled gently, and looked into the silver-grey eyes, which sparkled with affection, devotion, annoyance, irritation, and pride. "I think I might actually get it." And he truly did, and he wasn't as afraid as he once thought he might be. The affection, still clear in Draco's eyes, even when he had punched him. It was all very clear that an Elf cared much for his mate. He basked himself in that moment, where he truly knew that it was alright to fall in love, and that Draco wouldn't hurt him intentionally. But he did scowl. He could live with all that, even revel in it, but he simply could not accept that Draco did all kinds of things, like buying a new wardrobe. It was out of the question.

Meanwhile Draco was watching the onslaught and turmoil in Harry's yes, while Harry's emotions sliced through him like a dagger. There were so many, and most of them he couldn't even analyse. They were moving too fast. But he became very good at reading Harry's emotions, and finally found a few which were familiar. Stubbornness, joy, caution, fear, elation, and a feeling he could only describe as opening a door, which was only left open at a crack. Each and every one of them was overwhelming, and now he knew why Harry's eyes betrayed onslaught and turmoil.

Eventually Harry nodded to himself, coming to a conclusion. "Alright. Just don't do that ever again, and I might forgive you."

Draco shot a look at him, which clearly screamed outrage. But Harry met it head-on. "Harry, come on. I'm supposed to care for you. It won't just stay with a new wardrobe. That was just something you needed."

Harry scowled. "I'm not some child you can please. I do actually feel guilty for what you did. It's just too much."

Draco was torn between apologising, and hugging his mate to his chest. In the end he settled for both of them, Harry's arm in an awkward angle, still holding the towel against Draco's cheek. "I'm sorry. I'll try not to do that again, okay?"

Harry nodded. Draco released him again and smiled.

Eventually they moved to the living room, Draco now holding the towel, with new ice, against his cheek. He grabbed a book, and settled down on the couch, Harry next to him. He looked at the book, and started reading, together with Draco.

Sometimes Draco turned a page to quickly, and Harry softly asked if he could go back to the previous page. Draco did, and Harry read the last few sentences, before the page was turned again. They made some lunch, and settled back on the couch, reading on.

Harry tried to cover several yawns, but failed miserably. He laid his head on Draco's shoulder, barely seeing the words in front of him. In the end he just closed his eyes, the sentences jumbled too much for his liking. Before he knew it, he drifted off, a contend sigh leaving his lips just before he fell asleep.

Draco read on, oblivious about the state his mate was in. After a few pages, he looked up, though. Harry almost always asked him to go back to the previous page. But this time, he hadn't uttered a word. When he looked to his side, he knew why. His mate was sleeping peacefully, lips slightly parted, and little puffs of air escaped those very lips. Draco couldn't tear his gaze away, nor could he stop the soft smile, which looked like a permanent fixture whenever he looked at Harry. He eased away from Harry, gently lowering him on the couch. Draco closed his book and went upstairs.

When he returned to the living room, he laid the sheet he got over Harry, making the black hair stand out against the white fabric. He sat down on the couch, gently lifted Harry's head, and he lowered it again on his legs, making him a makeshift pillow. Before he knew it, his hand was already buried deep in the soft pitch-black locks of Harry's hair. It amused Draco, because the hair was so soft, yet it always looked so wild, so untameable. It differed so from his own silver-blond locks, which always fell perfectly alongside his face. He gently tugged at Harry's hair, before stroking it flat again, petting it. It soothed his own nerves, like a balm to his soul, and he closed his eyes, continuing his petting motion.

It was the sight Narcissa Malfoy walked into. Her son gently caressing his mate's hair, while his own eyes were closed, and Harry looked like he was asleep. Draco gently opened his eyes a bit, before seeing it was his mother that looked at them. He closed his eyes again, and continued caressing Harry's scalp. She walked to the kitchen musingly. She could see why Harry and Draco looked perfect with each other; like day and night. The pitch-black hair, opposite the silver-blond. The green eyes, the colour of new grass, against the grey eyes, like the end of a stormy or rainy day. The way they complimented each other without even trying. Oh yes, she saw it all.

When Narcissa broke out of her musings, she set on preparing dinner for them. While she put the potatoes in the water, she couldn't help but sigh. She missed her husband greatly. But while she missed him, she thought back to the romantic dinner they both had, which brought her to Harry. And here she smiled. She knew most symbolisms of most flowers and plants. Ivy, for example, stood for fidelity, friendship, dependence, endurance, and affection. Pansies stood for thoughtful recollection, and red roses stood for love and desire. Daffodil for annunciation, a white lily for purity or virginity, moonflowers for dreaming of love. And forget-me-nots stood for faithful, or true, love and memories. Pansies were one of Harry's latest favourites, together with moonflowers, and every flower Harry liked told him about how he was. At least, that's how Narcissa looked at it.

Look at the flowers a certain person liked, and you would come to know much about their personality and state of mind. Also the month they represented. It was quite fascinating how flowers told their own stories, had their very own language.

She put dinner on the table, and walked back to the living room. What she saw made her smile, and it filled her heart with all the gentleness it possessed, for her son was fast asleep on the couch, together with his mate. Harry was lying just as he was before she left, head nestled in Draco's lap, mouth slightly open, while his breath disturbed some of the locks of hair that fell in front of his mouth. Draco's left hand was still in Harry's hair, head lulled to his left shoulder. His hair fell in front of his face, and was often disturbed by the slow puff of air that left his mouth. Narcissa refused to disturb the picture, so she walked to the dining room, seated herself, and started to eat alone.

When she finished eating, she stifled a yawn. She stood up, and decided she'd do well to sleep too. When she checked up on Harry and Draco, she couldn't help but smile again. The sun was setting, and basked them in a soft, orange glow. She stayed there, just looking at her son's face, before another yawn was stifled by her. With one more look, she left to go to her bedroom.

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Draco shot awake when he heard something. He looked around in the darkened room, and when his eyes landed on the familiar silhouette he breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry, Draco, I didn't mean to wake you up." His father told him apologetically.

"No problem," he said, while looking down to a still sleeping Harry. Only then did he notice the crick in his neck. He rubbed the sore spot, and his stomach grumbled. He looked at the clock and was astounded by the time. It was nearing nine already. His father had already disappeared into the kitchen, probably to eat a late dinner.

"Harry, Harry, wake up," he said gently, running his hand once again through the pitch-black locks of his mate.

Harry stirred a bit, and slowly opened his eyes. "Is something the matter?" he muttered.

Draco shook his head. "No, dad just returned home. We'd better eat some dinner."

Harry just closed his eyes again, nearly incoherently mumbling, "If that's all, then let me sleep."

"Harry, as much as I love to stay here, you do need to eat. And I do too." The rumbling of his stomach gave him away, and Harry opened his eyes, a faint smile lingering on his face. But when he looked into Draco's eyes, even as sleep-addled as he was, he got lost. The gentle look Draco gave him was almost too much, and made him feel loved, something he had been dying to feel whenever he was with the Dursleys. But then again, they were behind him, closing that door, and opening a far more welcome one.

Draco felt like he was bursting with the affection he felt right now for Harry. It was only natural for him to bend down, and claim those lips he had longed to taste again. But somehow, the feeling had shifted since last night. Instead of the tingling, he only felt the warmth and magic he had described to Harry only the day before, and he nearly gasped.

Harry didn't know whether to pull away, or cling on to Draco. His heart stuttered and sang, while his mind was trying to scramble back, afraid of what was happening. After a moments hesitation, he reached up and buried his hand in the soft tresses of the hair of his mate. 'My mate…' His head echoed, but he moaned, and he discarded reasonable thought. It was what was right, what felt right. And he had never ignored his senses. And so he kissed back with all that he had, fear still lingering in a corner of his mind, but the feeling of rightness overwhelmed it by far.

"We…need to talk about this," Harry panted when they parted, eyes almost glazed over.

Draco thought the ability of speech might have deserted him forever right then and there. He could only stare at Harry, mesmerised. "We do. I have some spare time right now? What about you?" he asked, eyes half-lidded and breath ghosting over his mate's lips.

Harry shivered and closed his eyes, before swallowing heavily. He opened his eyes again and smiled lightly, shaking slightly, which was noticeable in his voice. "I think I can manage to find some time, yeah."

Draco regrettably pulled away, since Harry went to sit up. "The Bond of Acceptance," Harry murmured softly, touching his lips absentmindedly.

Draco nodded. "You remember. I thought you might've forgotten. But yes, that was indeed The Bond of Acceptance. Are you… okay with it?" he asked worriedly.

Harry immediately reached out for Draco's hand and clutched it in his hands, eyes wider than they were before. "Yes! I'm sorry if it looked differently. I just… didn't expect it! Only yesterday I was saying that I was coming to terms with it, and now I actually am, on some level, or else the first bond wouldn't be established. I just didn't realise it would be this soon," he said reverently.

"Do you regret it?" Draco asked sharply. He really wanted an honest answer to his question. After all, he knew how bonds were delicately placed and balanced. It was something that needed to be held together by two people. A one-sided relationship never worked. "I understand that it must be a shock, but I really want to know if you regret it."

Harry shook his head. "No, it's just… I want to do this right, Draco. I have never even really liked some one, let alone jumping into a relationship. And to know that some one even likes me, is rather hard to comprehend. I just don't want to hurt you." He toyed with Draco's fingers, looking at his knee.

He waited for a few seconds, somehow thinking Draco would say something cutting and hurt him, when he was as bare as he was now. The rejection which was sure to come. But nothing like that came. Instead, Draco lifted Harry's head gently, curling the fingers of his right hand under Harry's chin. He smiled gently and let Harry see it wasn't in a mocking way. "Do you think I've ever done something like this before? I'm absolutely scared, terrified even, because I don't want to hurt you, or move too fast. I want to do this right, too. And if I did something wrong, say so, and don't run away. I can't fix something if I don't know the cause. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded. "Only if you do the same with me. I'm not fragile. I can handle things."

Draco grinned wryly. 'You're more fragile then you think, Harry.' His stomach rumbled again, and a full-blown smile covered his face. "I told you we should eat!"

"Well, I'm sorry that we were otherwise… occupied," Harry said, while rolling his eyes. He gently disentangled himself from Draco and stood up, stretching and yawning, therefore missing the rather lustful look in Draco's eyes, and the swallowing.

He stretched out his hand, so Draco could grab it and hoist himself up. They stood like that for a moment, Harry's hand still grasping Draco's. The blond reached up and tucked an adventurous lock of hair behind his mate's ear, and he kissed his forehead gently, trembling as he did so. It had finally begun.

When Draco turned to go to the kitchen, he thought he caught a glimpse of silver-blond hair he knew so well. But he shook the thought away quickly. Even if his father witnessed most of it, it didn't matter. It was his father, after all.

They seated themselves at the table, and Draco looked at their dinner. He grinned and filled up his plate. Harry filled his too, and started to eat.

Draco stood up and stretched, yawning as he did so, when they finished eating. "I think… I think I'll call it a night." He yawned again before finishing his sentence. "Are you coming with me?" Harry nodded, and screwed up his face, trying to force down the yawn, but failed.

Draco smiled at his mate, and put out the candles around the room, leaving it dark. He did the same to the living room, before he returned to Harry again. "Come."

Harry followed him up the stairs, trying not to stare at indecent places. He flushed, before remembering Draco was his mate. He had every right to stare if he wanted to.

"Good night, Harry." Draco smiled at him, and turned around, to open his door, but Harry stopped him, putting a hand on his arm.

He looked down, gnawing on his lip, before he squared his shoulders and stood up straighter. He looked at Draco, and smiled, before leaning forward and kissing him quickly. "Good night, Draco," he breathed before he moved down the corridor to his own room.

Draco shook his head, and smiled, before falling down on his bed. It was one of the most surprising, yet fulfilling days he ever had, he reckoned. He crawled under the covers, yawned, and promptly fell asleep, a soft smile still lingering on his face.

Harry sighed, and closed the door behind him, leaning against it. He rubbed his face wearily and pushed away, heading for his bed. He lifted the covers and laid down under them. His eyes stared unseeingly at the canopy of his bed. After all, he had a lot to think about.

It was far past midnight when Harry finally succumbed to the warm, dark tendrils of sleep.