'Dear Mr. Potter,

I hope you have taken notice of the unique, but simple bonds that I have casted upon you and Mr. Malfoy. Because of your actions as of recent, I have arranged a double living quarters that you and him will be sharing until you can learn to work out your differences. Also, I have decided that if living together cannot mend your obviously broken relationship, the Dueling Club will indeed start again.

Best wishes,
Minerva McGonagall
(Headmistress of Hogwarts)'

~△⃒⃘~

Harry Potter found himself extremely agitated when he woke the next morning to find a thick, black line stretching all the way around his thin wrist. He sat up, watching as his scarlet duvet pooled around his waist, and studied the design of his bond in a sleepy stupor.

When he noticed there were no hidden meanings behind the bond, he made his way out of bed, showered, and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. Upon entering the Hall, he noticed that the professor's table was filled, all apart from the seat beside Malfoy.

He huffed an agitated breath, but sat beside the blond, who was picking at his corn muffin distastefully. When Harry looked to his left, he found that Hagrid was seated beside him, and his nerves faltered slightly. He turned to him, and poked his arm as if not to scare him.

"Hagrid, what's with the change in seating?" He asked, a confused look on his face as he noticed most of the teachers weren't where they normally sat.

"It's a seating chart thingy McGonagall whipped up this mornin'. You'd think she woulda done it fer the students, but no, it's fer us." The burly man claimed, picking a bit of porridge out of his beard. Harry grimaced, knowing why the woman had done this, and found it unfair that she'd made all of the other professors suffer as well.

"Maybe it's just temporary." Though he states it, his eyes are filled with uncertainty. McGonagall had proven to have an interesting way of running things, and now that a seating chart had been constructed, he wondered just how permanent she'd plan on keeping it.

His eyes flicked to the blond professor on the right of him, watching as his grey eyes glared at the band around his wrist, peeking out from the sleeve of his robes. He swirled his cereal around in his bowl without interest, and rolled his eyes. Then, he looked towards Harry, and Harry looked away.

When breakfast finished up and the students got ready for their classes, Professor McGonagall made her way over to the two young teachers, a tight-lipped smile on her face.

"It's good to see my bonding charm was a success then." She smirked. "If you'll follow me, I'll guide you to your new living quarters. Mr. Filch has already transferred your belongings there."

The boys stood up awkwardly and followed her out of the Great Hall, and down through the corridor. Harry noticed they were walking towards her office, and grew confused. There were no classrooms, nor living quarters in this wing that he could remember. They stopped to the right of the Headmistress's office statue, and McGonagall held the top of her wand to the seemingly blank wall, and said "Canary's Song," causing the material to ripple, and rearrange with a sound similar to bricks shifting, and a passageway revealed itself.

She turned around and faced the boys who stood a good five meters away from the other.

"And this is where I leave you. I do hope you can learn to be civil soon. The war is over, after all. There should be nothing tying you towards hostility." She spoke sternly, and they nodded, not wanting to get on any worse of a side from her.

Once the older woman had gone, the two boys glanced at each other awkwardly, then down to the matching bands around their wrists, and then away. It was safe to say that both Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter alike despised their current punishment. Every time Harry looked down at the band around his wrist, he wished he could go back to the time when all he'd have to do is serve a few detentions, and then he'd be off for whatever he'd done scotch free.

He didn't know if this was McGonagall's sick form of amusement or not, but he did know that he found it to be quite cruel. When he, Draco, and the headmistress had met in her office, she'd made it seem like they had a choice, but when both boys awoke the next day with a solid, thick black line on their right wrists, Harry knew the older woman had already made up her mind from the beginning.

The room was designed in a deep purple color, as well as gold and white. The love-seats that sat near the fire were a dusty golden color, with a light brown wooded base. The coffee table matched, as did the cupboards off to the side. A warm, cozy-looking fire sprung to life once they stepped further into the room, and Harry looked around in wonderment.

He'd never seen the guest quarters before, as he'd never had reason to, but he found that they seemed quite similar to the House Common Rooms. He found comfort in that.

He walked towards a set of double doors, and pushed them open. Inside, two four-poster beds stood untouched. They were covered in purple and gold, and he wondered if anyone would be angry if he changed the colors on what would be his bed to scarlet and gold. He sat down on the bed closest to the window, and tested its firmness. It seemed manageable, and he got to work unpacking.

~△⃒⃘~

A while later, he heard the passageway open, which sounded a lot like bricks moving aside and rearranging themselves, and then a scoff followed footsteps. Shortly after the two wizards had entered the room earlier, Draco had had to run off to teach a class, and couldn't observe his living situation.

Harry had finished unpacking, and had decided to finish grading his last few essays on goblins, but set his work aside when he heard someone moving about in the lounging area. He stood up, shrugged on his jumper, and stood in the doorway as Draco Malfoy paced the lounge, a distasteful look on his face as he observed everything.

He cleared his throat, not wanting to stun the wizard, and crossed his arms over his chest when the blond turned to face him.

"Purple and gold are horrible colors." Draco stated simply, sitting down in one of the love-seats, disregarding his luggage that had been dropped off in a fashion similar to his own.

"I think it's nice. A change of scenery, anyways." Harry claimed, taking a seat across from him. "I've already chosen my bed, so..."

"I can't believe she bonded us, and is forcing us to dorm together. A Gryffindor and Slytherin sleeping in the same room? Ridiculous." The blond scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he gazed lazily towards the fire.

"Least they're not some crazy design. It just looks like a bracelet!"

"Hmm, you and I with matching bracelets." The aristocrat rolled his eyes.

"You don't have to be such a downer, Malfoy. It's your fault we're in this mess."

"Really? I wasn't the one to throw the first punch, or the second, or third."

"You egged me on!" Harry exclaimed, and went to step forward but stopped as a searing pain pulsed through his wrist. He glanced down at his bond, which was quivering against his pale skin, and then glanced at Malfoy, who was watching him in a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

The fire to the left of the pair sputtered, and a piece of parchment floated in the air. Draco walked towards it, snatching it from its floating position and unrolled it to find a note from McGonagall, which he read aloud:

"Dear Mr Potter, and Mr Malfoy, as you've probably noticed, your bonds are enchanted to bring a searing pain to your wrists if it feels as though your connection is in danger. This being said, a great deal of discomfort will be cast upon the both of you if you do decide to fight." He read, and Harry massaged his wrist carefully. He took a seat on one of the couches, and sighed as the pain subsided.

"Enchanted bonds. Great." The dark haired wizard rolled his eyes, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, and adjusted his robes.

"Guess I'll just have to come up with other ways to torture you since the bonds are preventing physical fighting." The blond claimed, taking a seat across from the green-eyed wizard.

"If we don't at least try to stop fighting, McGonagall will make us start up the Dueling Club again. You remember how well that went over last time it was in use." Harry stated, still massaging his wrist.

"You got exposed as a Parseltongue."

"You got knocked on your arse and had to have Snape pick you back up."

"Least I didn't try to set a snake on anyone."

"I was trying to make it back off!"

"Sure. Don't you have a class to be getting ready for?" The blond asked, a smirk on his face.

"My classes are in the afternoon today. After lunch." Harry explained, and the grey-eyed boy rolled his eyes.

"Grand. Well, I've got another Potions class with the third year Ravenclaws in ten minutes, so I'd better go. Try not to cause too much destruction while I'm gone, will you?" And with that, Draco was back out the passageway, and Harry stood in confusion, eyeing the parchment the professor had discarded.

While he waited for lunchtime to begin, he decided he should try to write to Ron and Hermione: inform them on his most recent predicament.