Everything was white and everything was clean and everything was sterile. Nothing hurt. No pain, no questions, no doubt. For a moment, there were no memories, no regrets. Peace like childhood, like early dreams of flying and starlight, filled him. It shone through him, through the skin of him, and hollowed out his core. He saw everything and nothing, and the path ahead was clear. For one brilliant moment, nothing mattered.

Then the light faded, weakened in the face of a subtle shadow. The world turned from white to grey, dipped in ink and bleeding from the corners of his vision. With the shadows, questions returned-doubt and wonder and confusion. They rose in him, an unsettling in the skin in the dark of night, but did not breach the surface. Still there was the calm, despite the questions.

The pain did not return. Not as he expected. No sharp emergence of hurt, no wash of fire or ice across his nerves. No shuddering sense of being again. He floated above that.

A soft beeping is what did it-brought him back into that grey place.

Cracking his eyes open, as though they'd been closed for centuries, Draco saw the steadily broken line shining over his chest. The line beeped at every break, at every drop and rise-spikes drawing the line of life. Beneath the line, there were other symbols hovering as if in a pale mist. Punctuated by acronyms and incomplete words, they monitored aspects of him he'd never been aware of. Things he never thought about before.

He watched the breaking line move, surveyed the gently shifting symbols and charts hovering above his chest. For hours it seemed, he watched it all, without moving. But he wasn't sure what time was, just then. Time had not yet returned to him.

Draco breathed, slowly, in and out, as though remembering how. Feeling the air travel inward and out, he watched the charts and breathed. Then he licked his lips, felt them smooth, and wondered how. The haze that filled his head lessened slowly, the mist parting to allow clarity space.

The room was darkened, but grey with light from beyond the door. There was a seat next to a small table opposite him, and a small chest of drawers to his left, serving as a nightstand. The curtains in the window were drawn closed. Beyond them, the window was black. Swallowing once, twice, trying to piece things together, Draco raised a hand to his chest. He found himself naked beneath white sheets, his senses not quite fully wakened. As the fog cleared, he remembered more and more.

Flashes of light and a powerful strike. Tears and pain and a breathlessness that wouldn't go away. Then nothing.

Then nothing.

Draco tried to reach around himself, then, a faster movement than he expected to manage, but couldn't quite reach where he was aiming. As he moved, he felt no jarring tug, no awkwardness or pain. It was then he noticed the figure curled on the sofa to his right.

Potter, half-hidden beneath a cloak, was asleep next to Draco. Seeing him, the fog disappeared, and a yearning grew in Draco's belly. He reached out without thinking, then pulled his hand back and stared at his ring finger.

The ring was gone, no trace of it left. His hand felt remarkably wrong. Thumb playing over the empty spot on his finger, Draco wondered how something could have become part of him so quickly.

There was a shuffling, a soft groan, and then-

"You're awake," Potter said, breathless. Draco turned, but Potter was already moving. Without hesitation, he threw himself at Draco and pulled him into a kiss. Their lips fitted together with a sigh and a laugh, and Potter kissed him as desperately as a dying man searches for sky.

The pull in his belly stirred and tugged, and Draco drew Potter closer, kissing him deeply and wantonly. It took long minutes before either of them pulled back, and Draco wasn't sure which of them did.

Potter's eyes were alight with joy, his face broken into a wide grin. He brushed a thumb over Draco's cheek and pressed their foreheads together with a laugh.

"You bloody git," Potter said, and sat back on Draco's bed. Watching him, feeling him close, Draco felt as though he was floating again, filled with light. But his fingers found the spot from the missing ring again, and he faltered.

"The ring is gone," he said after a moment, his voice breathy but not hoarse. Potter glanced down and nodded once. "How-what-"

Drawing away slightly, Potter looked at his own hands.

"Do you know what happened?" he asked. Draco remembered the pain, though he didn't feel it now.

"We fought Cygnus," he said slowly, "and-I was injured."

Potter shook his head, looking pained at Draco. "You weren't injured, Draco. You died."

Some of the doubt, the questions, and the regrets surfaced momentarily, piercing the vibrating haze of his painlessness. Spells and potions, he thought, must be keeping him feeling well.

"I died," he said more than asked, eyes vacant.

"For sixty-seven seconds," Potter said. Draco blinked and focused on Potter, eyebrows furrowed. "Once you were-well, it's easier to apparate with a-than with a badly injured person. I figured that much out after fourth year. I got you to hospital, and the healers did the rest. A non-magical injury like the one you suffered is much easier to repair than spell damage. And because you died as a result of that, rather than a Killing Curse or something of the like... well, they brought you back quickly enough." Potter swallowed hard, as though he had trouble. "They had you in magical sleep to recover properly, said you should be all right. Your mother was here as well, but visiting hours ended, and they forced her to leave. But me, well...I'm..." He made a vague motion toward himself.

"I died," Draco said again, his hands playing on his empty ring-finger. "And the bond-"

Potter nodded slowly. "Turns out the easiest way to break a bonding spell is for one or both parties to die," he said, but his smile bore no humour. His hands gripped the sheets by Draco's leg, but he seemed afraid to reach out for Draco himself again.

"Then it's done? We aren't ma-bonded, anymore?" he asked, voice hitching awkwardly. The yearning in his stomach spun and built, and Draco could not understand. Potter nodded to him, and Draco blurted, "then why do I still feel this way?"

Potter's lips parted, his eyes searching Draco's. "What?"

"I still want you," he said, the urge to reach out and grab Potter rising with every moment, every frustrating second Potter refused to touch him. "I feel like I need you. The way I did when we were bonded. But I shouldn't. It should be gone, this feeling."

Potter's jaw tightened and released, a hard line shifting to softer edges.

"Unless," he said, pausing to flatten his hand to the mattress, his fingers barely touching Draco's leg, "it's real. This is really how you feel."

The gazing heat of Potter's fingertips against Draco's thigh through the sheets was driving him mad. He felt himself flush with the need of him, and disbelieving his own actions, he reached out and brushed his fingers against Potter's lower lip. Potter leaned into the motion.

"And you?" Draco said, unable to manage more than a whisper.

Potter's green eyes met Draco's, the irises bright as spell magic and full of the same promise.

"I've already told you," he said, "you are what I want. It wasn't always the bond talking."

They held each other's gaze a moment, caught in the balance of the moment, and then Draco broke it.

He buried his fingers in Harry's hair and drew him in for a kiss. Harry exhaled a sound of relief into the kiss, his lips sucking at Draco's, his hands cupping Draco's head. Harry pulled him in, breathed him in, and demanded more. Draco slid his tongue passed Harry's lips, tasting him as he hadn't before. He wanted to feel everything again, anew, without the lens of the bond clouding reality. He wanted to know Harry inside and out, to draw him up along the crest of pleasure and dive down into it with him.

The heat grew again, the pull taught as a wire between them, urging them closer. Draco slid his hands down Harry's front and tugged at the toggles of his robes, ripping them from his body. Harry shimmied out of the robes, unbuckling his own belt and trousers. He cast them aside, pants and all, and straddled Draco atop the sheets. Draco moaned and dragged Potter back into a kiss, his entire body aflame with sensation.

The bed creaked, and a shadow passed across the light under the door. They both froze, eyes wide and staring at each other. The sound of healers passing dissipated, but it reminded Draco where they were.

Harry's eyes flashed between Draco's and the door, then he pulled his wand from his discarded robes and began casting spells. After a moment he put the wand aside with a grin and pulled Draco up as he leaned back.

"A few privacy wards," he explained, mouth open and barely an inch from Draco's. His hands roved down Draco's chest and pulled the sheets away from his waist, exposing his erection. He hissed as the cool air passed over him and nibbled at Harry's lips.

"Potter," he said in a half-accusatory manner. Harry smirked in a way almost reminiscent of Draco.

"No more interruptions," he said. "No more excuses."

Draco splayed a hand at Harry's lower back and pushed him forward until their hips met, their erections pressed together. Harry groaned and bucked his hips, creating an almost painful friction that set Draco alight.

Sucking at Harry's lower lip, Draco guided Harry's movements against him, arcing upward into Harry's thrusts when he could. Hands roving down Draco's back, Harry found the place where Draco had been impaled. His fingertips kneaded over the area, massaging the smooth skin. Eyes shut from the pleasure, Draco moaned and angled his head back. Harry leaned in and licked a thick strip down Draco's neck, stopping to suck on his collarbone.

Draco brought his hand to their erections, stroking them both in awkward, uneven motions, but Harry didn't seem to mind. He continued, Harry thrusting into his strokes, until the skin stung with sensation. Then Harry took Draco's wrist, and staring into Draco's half-lidded eyes, he placed Draco's hand at his arse and guided him toward his goal.

Fingers pressed tentatively where Harry placed them, Draco paused, and search Harry's eyes.

"I want you," Harry said, his words husky and hot against Draco's skin. He leaned sideways a moment and pulled a small tube out of his trousers before handing it to Draco. "Now."

Draco eyed the tube of lube a moment, one eyebrow cocked, a smirk drawing itself on his lips. Harry didn't let him speak, only captured his mouth again and bucked against Draco again.

Draco coated his fingers quickly and carefully, sliding his other hand down Harry's arse and kneading the skin. Harry moaned and kissed him more roughly, the urgency building. Draco pressed the tip of his slicked finger into Potter, slowly, and then further in. Harry moaned again, his lips parted, his teeth gritted. Draco watched as Harry's head fell back the further in he pushed. The gasping moans Harry made as he let Draco's fingers in, one more, then another, were driving Draco mad. His cock pulsed, harder than he thought he'd ever been, as he stretched Harry.

Harry glanced down as he lifted himself off Draco's fingers and sat back down, fucking himself as Draco watched. His eyes dark with lust and pleasure, he smirked at Draco and gyrated more boldly, his hands finding Draco's cock to stroke it.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry said, and Draco swallowed hard.

"You," he breathed, and Harry's lips pulled into a mischievous smile.

"Why?" he demanded, one hand fisting Draco's hair. He thrust against Draco's fingers more determinately.

"I need you," Draco said, mouth pressed open and wet to Harry's chest and neck. "I fucking need you; I love you."

Potter gasped a moan and pulled himself off Draco's fingers and yanking his head back to kiss him. He slid his tongue into Draco's mouth and readjusted his position, pressing their bodies tightly together. Harry brought his hand around himself, behind, and grasped Draco's cock. He held himself hovering above the head, eyes boring into Draco.

"Then fucking take me," he ordered, and pushed down on Draco's cock, sheathing it in one rough moment. They both cried out, and Harry pressed his forehead to Draco's, his eyes screwed shut, his jaw tight.

Draco ran one hand up Harry's back, soothing him and smoothing away the discomfort. Harry hummed, and his muscles shifted. He lifted himself and thrust down again, this time more fluidly. Draco let him find a pace, then fell into it, bucking upward, hips colliding with Harry's arse with every rise and fall.

The feel of Harry, completely surrounding him and sucking him inward, pushed Draco to the edge faster than he wanted. He paused and wrapped his fingers around Harry's cock, stroking with the remaining lube and thrusting to punctuate the strokes.

"Yes, Draco, fuck yes," Harry said, bobbing up and down on Draco's erection. He threw his head back again, his eyes shut, his glasses partially askew, and he looked lost and ruined and gorgeous in every way possible.

Draco twisted as he pulled up on Harry's erection, urging him to climax, needing it more than he needed air. He sucked at Harry's chest, leaving his scorching skin raw and red. His thrusting grew deeper, harder, more erratic, and with every push Harry cried out.

"Fuck, Draco, ye-" Harry said, nails raking down Draco's back, and suddenly he stopped, his entire body shuddering, taught and motionless as he came. Jets of thick, sticky liquid splattered Draco's chest, and he thrust in again, harder and faster, until he met the final upswing and tumbled into release. He moaned, gripping Harry's legs, as Harry held him tight.

Finally, spent and exhausted, Draco collapsed back onto his bed, Harry falling on top of him. They lay panting, holding each other, for minutes. After a time, Harry shifted off to Draco's side, chest heaving against him. They were messy and sticky and covered in each other's come, but Draco didn't care. Harry was lying against him, willingly sated.

"Fuck," Harry said after a while. "It's nearly half-seven." He propped himself up to check something, and Draco let his eyes run down the length of Harry's naked body. Catching him in the act, Harry grinned and kissed Draco again. "No more of that right now. You'll be having visitors soon."

"I died," Draco said, running a hand up Harry's thigh. "In fact, this is practically my death bed. I can't possibly see visitors. I need more attending to."

An eyebrow cocked, Harry laughed, "shall I call the healers then?"

"You mean you aren't a healer?" Draco asked in mock surprise. "I thought you must work here now, seeing as your career as an auror had to be at an end. You were nearly killed by a squib and saved by a simple jeweler, were you not?"

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed in confusion. "Which fight were you at? I don't remember ever being in mortal danger. In fact, I distinctly remember being interrupted by an idiot jeweler as I was trying to save the day."

"Simple jeweler, not idiot, get it right," Draco said, and Harry laughed and kissed him.

"No," he said, "nothing is every simple when it comes to you, Draco Malfoy."

Harry kissed him again, and Draco held him there in a slow, languorous embrace. Harry exhaled in pleasure and pulled away.

"No time! Guests," he said by way of explanation.

"Mother won't mind," he said, not really believing it as he said it. Harry shot him a look and shook his head.

"Not your mother," he said. Then with a wicked smile, he explained, "I promised Teddy he could visit you once you woke up. He was unnaturally excited to discover he has a cousin-wouldn't believe a word I said when I tried to explain how much of a prat you are."

"Teddy?" Draco said, sitting up slightly, caught between excitement and terror. "As in Aunt Andromeda's grandson?"

Harry smiled. "As a five-star auror, I deduced it might be a good surprise for when you were back on your feet. I hope you're ready for this. Once he sees you, he won't want to give you up." Harry's eyes travelled the length of Draco's body, and he said with a hum, "I know the feeling."

Mouth pulled into a smirk, Draco tried to focus on the possibility of having family again. But the thought of the last unexpected cousin he'd met filled him with doubt.

"Do they know about what happened?" he asked. "About the ring and the bond and Cygnus and my-dying?"

Harry considered him. "I explained you were badly hurt to Teddy, and that I'd just gotten to know you again and thought you'd get on well together." He paused. "Andromeda knows more. She was understandably hesitant, but I arranged a meeting between her and your mother a couple days ago. She can tell you more about that, though." He laughed. "You're going to have more family than you know what to do with soon." Draco felt a pang of alarm mingled with excitement at the thought. The empty places in his heart began to fill with people he never thought he'd have, and at the centre of that was Harry. "Oh, that reminds me."

He reached into his trousers and plucked out a red velvet box. Harry handed it to Draco without explanation, but Draco thought he knew what it was. As he opened the box, the ruby and emerald ring sparkled back at him. The low light of the morning filtered in through the thin curtains and caught in the gems.

"It survived?" Draco asked.

"Apparently, the true-love's bond remains unfulfilled," Harry said, the words not quite his own. "So the ring's magic fell dormant again."

Draco felt a spark in his chest at Harry's words. He caught Harry's eye.

"True love's bond?" Harry smiled and nodded.

"So it seems," he said. "It's technically evidence, but they released it to me. I thought maybe you could hold on to it." There was a glimmer of promise in his eyes. "I reckon it'll come in handy sometime soon."

Lips parted, Draco searched Harry's face for a lie and found none.

"Are you proposing to me, Potter?" he asked with a smirk. Harry's eyes crinkled at the edges from his smile, the hint of a challenge in his expression.

"Are you accepting, Malfoy?"

Draco only smiled wider and pulled Harry into a kiss.