FTtSoL 02
There was a soft knock at the door. "I will be right back," Merryweather said, going to answer it.
Draco sighed and sunk down further onto the bed, his hands picking at the sheets and blankets to settle them around himself more comfortably. He damned his traitor's heart for being uplifted by the thought of seeing Charlus bloody Potter.
"You're a fool, Draco," he whispered to himself. "Always falling for stupid Potters."
And there were no tears in his eyes or caught in his throat. There wasn't hopeless faith building up in his chest for Potters that always kept their promises--even the ones they didn't make themselves--and always came back even when it saw them dead in the end.
And when the door opened and Charlus came strutting in... Draco didn't see a different face superimposed. Younger, but harder at the same time, one tempered by a hopeless war and the knowledge that they had already lost decades before they were even born, failed by the adults that should have protected them.
Harry wasn't born yet. Narcissa wasn't born yet. Nobody Draco had loved was born yet. He was alone in the world, but the future was yet to be written.
He stared at Charlus' face and even though he knew it was futile, he let himself fall in love, just a little. Because in a world where he'd been left adrift, he needed something--someone--to hold onto or he'd disappear completely.
* * *
Silvery gray eyes looking at him out of a fine featured face, catching him up before he was completely over the doorstep. Charlus' breath escaped him in a shuddery gasp and he didn't know how he'd managed to stay away as long as he had.
The boy's name was Draco Malfoy, and from what Nigel had been able to find out, he did have the blood of the Malfoy gens running through his veins, but it was buried deep beneath the veela cover. It was impossible to tell how closely Draco was related to the main branch of the Malfoy family, but it didn't much matter.
From what Nigel had said, the Malfoys had already washed their hands of the boy the minute they heard about his veela heritage. It was no longer fashionable to be so closely linked to non-humans, especially creatures as dangerous as veelas were, and Draco was nearly a full-blooded veela. It was just lucky he wasn't sprouting fangs and claws, and everyone knew the rare veela males were the more dangerous of the species.
Charlus had felt a bit of nervousness about a veela soulmate, but seeing Draco allayed those fears. He already had a son, so he didn't have to worry about irreparably polluting the Potter bloodline. He was free to love where he wished, and he was glad of that.
Because the moment he met those worried gray eyes, Charlus Potter was desperately in love.
"Hello, Mr. Malfoy. I am Charlus Potter," he said. He squared his shoulders and strode forward with all the grace he could manage.
He saw the way Draco's eyes ran up and down his body, taking in the exquisitely tailored blue silk robes that draped over his tall frame flatteringly. He had been told before that he was handsome and he did own mirrors, but it wasn't until he saw the approving tilt of Draco's finely drawn brow that Charlus felt as though he were anything more than presentable.
Charlus walked over to the side of the bed and tried to ignore the piercing look Healer Merryweather gave him as the man took up post on the opposite side. He kept his eyes on Draco, which wasn't exactly a hardship.
"You may call me Charlus," he said, holding out his hand.
Draco looked down at it for a long moment, then one side of his mouth turned up. "Deja vu," he said enigmatically, then reached out to clasp Charlus' hand.
There was a spark between them, an invisible current that ran up their arms and made Charlus gasp and his knees attempt to buckle.
He snatched his hand back after a moment, his breath coming quickly. His heart was pounding loud in his ears and arousal pooled in his lower belly.
"You're coming home with me," he said firmly. "You're coming home with me and we will be Bound forever and we will be happy and the entire world will belong to us."
Draco gave him a cool look, though his lips betrayed a slight tremble. "And what about your beautiful wife?"
Charlus shook his head. "That's why it's been so long for me to come back to you," he said. "My father had to gather the solicitor and there were several ceremonies that had to be done." He licked his lips. "Dorea is no longer a Potter. We've been divorced."
Draco's eyes went wide. "What?"
"Just so," Charlus said, his smile weak. "There was nothing else for it and she received quite the handsome stipend, but there was a soulmate clause in our marriage contract. The minute I accepted you, the marriage was void. She is a Black again."
"You... you accepted me?" Draco's voice cracked.
"Of course," Charlus said, as though there hadn't been a single doubt. "You are my soulmate and we belong together. Once you are cleared to leave the hospital, you will come home with me."
Charlus had never seen someone break apart before, but that was exactly what happened with Draco. His eyes went wide and glittery and his mouth fell open softly as his face just crumbled in on itself.
On Draco's second hitching breath, Charlus lost all self-control and reached out his arms to gather the younger man close against himself, hugging him the way that he deserved. He wrapped Draco up tight and listened to him sob and he didn't care as tears stained the shoulders of his robes.
He held Draco tightly and promised in his heart that he was never going to put that look on Draco's face ever again. They had only just met, but theirs was a Bond created out of magic by magic itself.
It was the kind of thing that wizards and witches dreamed of. The kind of thing that he had dreamed of as a child.
"It's all right. I have you," he murmured. "We'll go home soon."
Draco sighed and sunk down further onto the bed, his hands picking at the sheets and blankets to settle them around himself more comfortably. He damned his traitor's heart for being uplifted by the thought of seeing Charlus bloody Potter.
"You're a fool, Draco," he whispered to himself. "Always falling for stupid Potters."
And there were no tears in his eyes or caught in his throat. There wasn't hopeless faith building up in his chest for Potters that always kept their promises--even the ones they didn't make themselves--and always came back even when it saw them dead in the end.
And when the door opened and Charlus came strutting in... Draco didn't see a different face superimposed. Younger, but harder at the same time, one tempered by a hopeless war and the knowledge that they had already lost decades before they were even born, failed by the adults that should have protected them.
Harry wasn't born yet. Narcissa wasn't born yet. Nobody Draco had loved was born yet. He was alone in the world, but the future was yet to be written.
He stared at Charlus' face and even though he knew it was futile, he let himself fall in love, just a little. Because in a world where he'd been left adrift, he needed something--someone--to hold onto or he'd disappear completely.
* * *
Silvery gray eyes looking at him out of a fine featured face, catching him up before he was completely over the doorstep. Charlus' breath escaped him in a shuddery gasp and he didn't know how he'd managed to stay away as long as he had.
The boy's name was Draco Malfoy, and from what Nigel had been able to find out, he did have the blood of the Malfoy gens running through his veins, but it was buried deep beneath the veela cover. It was impossible to tell how closely Draco was related to the main branch of the Malfoy family, but it didn't much matter.
From what Nigel had said, the Malfoys had already washed their hands of the boy the minute they heard about his veela heritage. It was no longer fashionable to be so closely linked to non-humans, especially creatures as dangerous as veelas were, and Draco was nearly a full-blooded veela. It was just lucky he wasn't sprouting fangs and claws, and everyone knew the rare veela males were the more dangerous of the species.
Charlus had felt a bit of nervousness about a veela soulmate, but seeing Draco allayed those fears. He already had a son, so he didn't have to worry about irreparably polluting the Potter bloodline. He was free to love where he wished, and he was glad of that.
Because the moment he met those worried gray eyes, Charlus Potter was desperately in love.
"Hello, Mr. Malfoy. I am Charlus Potter," he said. He squared his shoulders and strode forward with all the grace he could manage.
He saw the way Draco's eyes ran up and down his body, taking in the exquisitely tailored blue silk robes that draped over his tall frame flatteringly. He had been told before that he was handsome and he did own mirrors, but it wasn't until he saw the approving tilt of Draco's finely drawn brow that Charlus felt as though he were anything more than presentable.
Charlus walked over to the side of the bed and tried to ignore the piercing look Healer Merryweather gave him as the man took up post on the opposite side. He kept his eyes on Draco, which wasn't exactly a hardship.
"You may call me Charlus," he said, holding out his hand.
Draco looked down at it for a long moment, then one side of his mouth turned up. "Deja vu," he said enigmatically, then reached out to clasp Charlus' hand.
There was a spark between them, an invisible current that ran up their arms and made Charlus gasp and his knees attempt to buckle.
He snatched his hand back after a moment, his breath coming quickly. His heart was pounding loud in his ears and arousal pooled in his lower belly.
"You're coming home with me," he said firmly. "You're coming home with me and we will be Bound forever and we will be happy and the entire world will belong to us."
Draco gave him a cool look, though his lips betrayed a slight tremble. "And what about your beautiful wife?"
Charlus shook his head. "That's why it's been so long for me to come back to you," he said. "My father had to gather the solicitor and there were several ceremonies that had to be done." He licked his lips. "Dorea is no longer a Potter. We've been divorced."
Draco's eyes went wide. "What?"
"Just so," Charlus said, his smile weak. "There was nothing else for it and she received quite the handsome stipend, but there was a soulmate clause in our marriage contract. The minute I accepted you, the marriage was void. She is a Black again."
"You... you accepted me?" Draco's voice cracked.
"Of course," Charlus said, as though there hadn't been a single doubt. "You are my soulmate and we belong together. Once you are cleared to leave the hospital, you will come home with me."
Charlus had never seen someone break apart before, but that was exactly what happened with Draco. His eyes went wide and glittery and his mouth fell open softly as his face just crumbled in on itself.
On Draco's second hitching breath, Charlus lost all self-control and reached out his arms to gather the younger man close against himself, hugging him the way that he deserved. He wrapped Draco up tight and listened to him sob and he didn't care as tears stained the shoulders of his robes.
He held Draco tightly and promised in his heart that he was never going to put that look on Draco's face ever again. They had only just met, but theirs was a Bond created out of magic by magic itself.
It was the kind of thing that wizards and witches dreamed of. The kind of thing that he had dreamed of as a child.
"It's all right. I have you," he murmured. "We'll go home soon."