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Was there love here, or was he just hallucinating? 

Draco stared at the ceiling, trying to force answers out of the silent bricks. Because he sure didn't know how to answer his own question. 

Was there love here? 

Or, much more likely, was he just hallucinating? Did his mind play tricks on him each time he was sure that he saw Harry's smile go slightly wider with Draco's presence than with anyone else's? Or was it genuine? Was it just something Draco was picking up on? Was it a sign? Or was it just like everything else in his life where he was imagining things? 

Because when it came to Harry Potter, he could never be sure. Never in his entire life had he been sure about anything when it came to Harry Potter. 

Of course, his friends had been saying for years now that he was in love with Harry. They had been saying it before even the war began. But now everything was over and settled and calm and years had gone by. Now it was Harry, Harry, Harry at every turn and Draco couldn't be sure about anything. 

Eight years had passed since the war and for the last four of those years, Draco and Harry had been auror partners. Everyone thought Draco must have lost his mind when he signed up and they were partially right: nearly everyone had refused to be his partner because of the mark on his arm. There was just one person in the entire department that wasn't afraid to take that risk. 

Lying here in bed, Draco recalled the memory, Potter telling him that he wasn't afraid because he knew a secret that none of the other aurors did: there wasn't any risk when it came to Draco. And he should have been offended, but really, it was a good thing that Harry was actually quite right. 

Over the years, Harry had continued to make this painstakingly clear when he wanted to jump into things without thinking and Draco would grab him by the back of his shirt and haul his arse out of the pathway of sure death. It had gotten to the point that a few people—only a select few because most still refused to see Draco as anything but the Death Eater anchor holding back their precious Potter from all the good he surely could have been doing—had thanked Draco on more than one occasion because they would all face hell from the Minister and the population if Harry Potter turned up dead on a case.

So the two actually managed to balance each other out perfectly: if it weren't for Draco, Harry would have been dead a million times over and if it weren't for Harry...well Draco had already gone through being partners with every other auror in the department, save the ones who had joined in the last four years since their duo was established. 

Yet, through all of this, most refused to give Draco a single glance of positive attention. The other aurors in the department would make comments after a successful mission of theirs that it only worked because the amazing Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, was able to succeed despite his Death Eater parasite. If they only knew how he would hold Harry back if any of these remarks ever reached his ears. 

Despite what his friends said, Draco had maintained for years that there was nothing between him and Harry. Sure, when they were in school, he may have had a crush. But that was all back before the war. It was so trivial, so childish. 

And to his surprise, Draco wasn't sure if he even saw Harry that way anymore. 

That wasn't to say that he saw anyone else in that manner. He just didn't have that same heat in his stomach when looking at Harry anymore. Maybe he had gotten tired of the git's face or maybe he had seen the man pour tea in his lap too many times. But he didn't feel that spark, that passion, that heat with Harry like he used to. Maybe it was all the nights in hotel rooms, eating takeout and pouring over case files. Maybe it was the fact that they were constantly together. He wasn't sure. 

But the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if it...was just...a different kind of love.

As Draco scrunched his eyebrows up at the ceiling, his thoughts were interrupted by the flashing of a red light coming from the tip of his wand. 

Draco jolted up and practically flew out of bed, grabbing his wand and a pair of trainers as he raced out the door. His wand was reacting to an old spell he had cast years ago that monitored Harry's well-being and essentially would give him any updates on Harry's health. Red meant...

Well, Draco didn't want to think about what red meant. 

As Draco sped down the hallway, he cast a tracking charm that he had on Harry, praying that it wouldn't fail him in such a crucial time. In moments, he had a good idea of Harry's location and he stopped running, trying to focus. 

Harry was in his house. He was in Grimmauld Place. Probably not alone and probably in danger. But Draco had to push all that aside and lower his heart rate and think.

He had to picture the mantel in the sitting room. He had to picture the cupboards. He had to think of the countertops and the wall colors and the windows and drapes. And he had to breathe. 

A sharp crash jolted Draco's eyes open. Without even realizing it, he had apparatted himself into Grimmauld Place. 

From above him, a struggle was clearly going on and he raced to the staircase and began silently climbing, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious or dangerous. Finally, Draco rounded the corner by the staircase and was headed towards the room where the sounds were coming from with the door ominously cracked open. 

He heard a loud shout from Harry and there was a flash of light. 

Draco ran through the door, bursting into the room and he found Harry, alone and sitting on the floor. His usually messy hair had become downright wild, sticking out in all directions like he had been shocked. He was staring, wide-eyed, at the box he held in his hands. 

And then he looked up and noticed Draco there. 

A smile came over his face. "Draco," he said, softly. 

Fighting down panic, Draco crossed the room to him. "Harry, what happened?" 

"Is that my shirt?" Harry asked. 

For a confused moment, Draco glanced down and noticed, yes, he was in fact wearing Harry's shirt. He still didn't remember how it had ended up in his possession but he had had it for years now. In his defense, it was incredibly comfortable. But in his haste, he had forgotten that Harry probably would be some sort of upset if he knew that Draco had one of his shirts. 

"That's not important," Draco snapped. "What happened, Harry?" 

Harry glanced down at the box in his hands and stared at it for a moment. "I'm not really sure," he mumbled. "I was going through some stuff—that I remember—and I came across this and..." He blinked blankly a moment and then looked back up at Draco. 

"Well, I don't think it's a good sign that I can't remember, is it, Draco?" 

Draco crossed his arms. "Well, according to the department, you're the most amazing auror in generations, so you tell me." He sighed and bent down, grabbing Harry by the elbow. "C'mon. It feels like Dark Magic. Let's get you to St. Mungo's." 

But Harry didn't stand up like Draco had expected, just shook him off. "Really, Draco, I feel fine. I feel...normal. Strangely calm, but normal still." 

"That sounds like an imperious, Harry." 

Harry shook his head. "No, I know what those feel like. And it's not the mindless calm like that. I can resist that. I just feel...strangely light and...good. Calm. But I'm still fully aware of myself and everything. I don't think I've been cursed." 

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you know how much trouble I would get in if I didn't take you to St. Mungo's right now? If it turns out you actually are cursed and I didn't do anything?" 

"Well, I'm not going and you can't make me," Harry said. He stood up then, returning the box to the shelf in front of him where he had gotten it. 

Trying to not let his jaw fall open, Draco scoffed. "Can't make you, can I? Care to put that to the test?" 

"Look," Harry turned around, brushing dust off of his hands. "You can stay and monitor me or whatever and if I start losing my marbles, you can haul me away. But, really, Draco, I feel fine. Merlin knows I've been cursed enough times to know what it feels like. Don't you trust me at all?" 

"When it comes to your own self-preservation, not at all." 

"That's hurtful, Draco." 

"Uh huh," Draco said, gesturing towards Harry's left calf. "Tell that to that burn scar of yours that's still healing from last week." 

Harry immediately dropped to the defensive. "We thought there was a kid in there!" 

"Was there, Harry?"

"Well, no, but I heard—“

"And who's report has predicted manipulations of the exact sort?"

Harry dropped his shoulders, looking sheepish. "Yours." 

"And did you read it?" 

Tipping his head back to look at the ceiling, Harry groaned. "No," he admitted. 

Turning to walk out of the room, Draco said, "Right, so St. Mungo's we go." 

"Oh, would you let it go?" Harry complained, following. 

"To the floo, Harry." 

Planting his feet, Harry crossed his arms at the top of the steps. "No." 

Draco turned to look at him and held his glare for a moment before returning to the top of the steps and grabbing Harry's arm. "Fine, then you're getting side-alonged." 

Closing his eyes, Draco imagined the entrance room to St. Mungos. He focused hard, despite knowing that St. Mungo's was easily one of the easiest apparitions. (Especially because being auror partners with Harry, he knew the waiting rooms quite well.) 

He opened his eyes, expecting to be in St. Mungos. But they were still standing at the top of the stairs. He sighed. "Damn it, Harry, stop resisting. Your will to stay here is overriding my ability to apparate us." 

"Ha," Harry laughed. "I guess you'll just have to stay here." He shook Draco's arm off and headed down the stairs. "Come on. Let's go get some food; I'm starved." 

Rolling his eyes, Draco followed. Damn that man and his stubbornness. 

By the time he followed Harry to the kitchen, he was taking food out of the fridge and had set the kettle on. 

"Why do you still do everything the muggle way?" Draco asked. "It would be much easier if you just..." Draco waved his wand, intending to demonstrate and save them time, but nothing happened. Confused, he stared at his wand a moment. Harry, however, didn't notice. 

"It's just calming to me, you know. It's the way I've always done things. And it's not that much more work." 

Not paying that much attention to Harry, Draco waved his wand, trying the spell again. And again, nothing happened. 

Okay, he told himself, no need to panic. Just try something simple. The most first-year way he could do it. Not wandless, not wordless. Basic.

Clearing his throat and straightening his spine, Draco waved his wand. " Nox ,” he said, making sure he enunciated clearly and loudly. 

Just as he feared, the lights stayed on. 

Harry turned to him, looking confused. "Wait, what just happened? Did you just cast a nox? Why are the lights still on, then? And who says nox out loud if they're older than eleven?" 

"Harry," Draco said with surprising calm. "I think you're missing the point. If we're including the apparition, that is fourth time I have tried to use magic in the last few minutes, and nothing happened." 

" Nox ,” Harry said, starting to put it together. And as Draco had expected, the lights still remained on. "Okay, let me try it with my wand," Harry said, clearly still searching for an explanation. 

" Accio wand.”

After a pause, Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, of course, my wand wouldn't come to me if I couldn't cast a wandless nox." 

Then, he froze as Draco had been waiting for him to do. "Wait. I can't cast a nox. I can't get my wand to me. Draco, what is happening?" 

Sitting back with a spiteful smile on his face, Draco said, "Looks like it was a curse, scarhead. Go grab that box; we're flooing Hermione." 

"Draco, it's 2am. We can at least wait until the morning to bother her." 

"You right, Harry. Because we've never dealt with a curse that has any sort of time limit and possibly losing your magic forever isn't a problem we need to rush on at all." 

"Okay, I'm going. Touchy," Harry muttered as he walked away. 

Minutes later Draco and Harry were joined at Grimmauld Place by Hermione and Ron. Already, Hermione looked alert and ready, but Ron was stifling a yawn and leaning back on the sofa cushion, trying not to nod off. 

Hermione was inspecting the box, careful not to touch it. Taking out her wand, she began running diagnostics of all sorts while the rest of them just watched. 

"Why did you open it, Harry?" 

Harry sighed. "Cause I'm stupid." 

"That's right," Draco snapped. 

Hermione glared at them both to shut them up. "I'm not Draco, Harry; that wasn't why I was asking. I mean, really. Why did you open it?" 

Harry shrugged. "I had just been looking around at stuff and I saw it on the shelf and realized I had never noticed it before and so I opened it." 

"Nothing else?" 

"I'm an auror, Hermione. I know what you're getting at and no, it didn't call to me in any weird way. I just saw it there and wondered what it was." 

Hermione continued running diagnostics on the box. "What were you thinking about when you opened it?" 

"Um," Harry hesitated. "Not sure." 

"That's not helpful, scarhead, think harder." 

"That's not helpful either, Draco," Hermione interjected. 

"Well, I lost my magic in this too, thank you very much." They all turned back to the box. "Why did that happen, anyway? How come I also lost my magic?" 

Through a yawn, Ron said, "Maybe it was just cause you were there." 

Hermione tapped her wand against her chin in thought. "It very well could be that, but it's never smart to assume with these kinds of things." 

Draco sat down in an armchair, feeling suddenly very tired and defeated. "Have you found anything? Do you think there's any way to undo it?"

"Wait," Harry looked to Draco. "You think there might not be?" 

Shrugging, Draco shifted in his seat. "It might be a conditional curse that is breakable, or might be permanent, yes." 

Harry's eyes widened. "What? You mean..." 

"Why are you freaking out? Half of the things you do are done without magic. You at least know how to survive in the muggle world. I'm the one at a complete loss, here." 

Crossing his arms, Harry said, "Well you don't look too freaked out." 

"I'm too tired," Draco said. 

Hermione scrunched up her face, still inspecting the box. "I'm sorry, you guys, but I can't really find anything yet. I have no indicators of even anything out of the ordinary with this box. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to open it to figure out what's going on with it. So I'm going to take it in tomorrow morning and the other Unspeakables and I will try to work on it in a diffusing chamber. For now, I think you two are going to have to go without magic for a little while." 

Draco took a deep breath. "I understand," he said. "Be careful opening it, though. Even in a diffusing chamber, it could still curse you. And if it turns out that it affected me because I was in the vicinity..." 

"Depending on the range, it could take the magic of all of the Unspeakables or even the entire Ministry if we're not careful." 

Now Draco thought it was an appropriate time to send a glare Harry's way. 

"Why would anyone make a box that curses people to lose their magic? What would be the purpose?" Harry asked. 

Seeming to wake up a little now, Ron shrugged. "Would have been useful in the war, right? If it's a one-and-done thing that isn't reversible and affects everyone in the immediate area, all we have to do is get someone to open it up at a meeting of Death Eaters and, hey, look at that, the war would have been over." 

"Not funny, Weasley." 

Clearly not thinking straight in his sleepy state, Ron shrugged again. "What difference would it make to you right now? You don't have magic right now anyway."

"Well then, I suppose instead of hexing you, I'll have to just break your nose with my bare hands!" 

Harry put a hand on Draco's arm before he shot up to attack Ron whose head was bobbing against his chest as he struggled to stay awake. 

Hermione knocked him lightly on the arm and the two turned to leave, Ron shuffling like a zombie. Hermione gave them a sympathetic smile before side-alonging her husband home.

Draco sighed, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. "Potter, if I'm cursed to live the rest of my life as a muggle, I'm going to commit a murder-suicide." 

Harry crashed down in the chair next to him. "I assume I'm the murder?" 

Sitting up, Draco stared at Harry. "Yes, you idiot! I'm saying I'm going to fucking kill you! Fucking hell, Potter, magic is all I have." 

"What are you talking about?" 

Settling back to his former position, Draco shrugged. "I just mean that I don't really have a lot going for me, you know. Pansy and Blaise are my only friends and we don't even talk that much anymore with Blaise being abroad and Pansy's career having taken off. And the only reason my career is anything is because I'm paired up with you, and that's not going to last forever. What else is there, Potter?" 

"Wait, what's this about you having plans to ditch me?" 

"Ditch you?" Again, Draco opened his eyes. "No, idiot, you'll be ditching me. You're Harry Potter . I'm quite surprised that we've lasted this long together. Everyone thinks I'm holding you down. You're going to go on to be Head Auror, Potter. And where I'm at now is far higher than I ever thought I would get. Than anyone ever thought I would get. And it's only because you dragged me with you thus far. You know they barely let me get promoted to this point. It's not going to last, Harry, you know that, right?"

Somehow, it was looking to Draco like this was all news to Harry. Like he had never considered it. 

"What? No. I don't want to be partners with anyone else." 

"It's not really going to be your choice for much longer, Harry. They're not going to let an ex Death Eater continue to be—“

"I don't give a fuck, okay? I don't give a fuck what they want to allow or not allow or whatever. I won't work with anyone else. I mean, fuck, Draco, you know I would die in a few minutes without you." 

" I know that, scarhead, but they don't. Shacklebolt is pretty much the only person who has actually acknowledged that fact and thanked me for it. But I'm telling you, Potter, it isn't going to last. Look, just—Just get some sleep, okay? It might not even matter at this point, if this curse sticks. Right?" Draco started to stand. 

"You have me," Harry said. 

"What?" Draco asked, confused. 

"You said that you don't have anything else. You have me and you'll always have me. Besides, if you're cursed to be without magic, so am I. We're in this together." He smiled. "Hey, it's just like all those other times we've been cursed." 

"You're right, Potter. You did something stupid and I was a little too late to stop you, and we both ended up cursed. But I think this is a little more serious than that whole 'rain cloud' thing." 

"Hey, you were pretty upset about that one. Didn't it ruin a pair of shoes or something?" 

"Yes, Potter, thank you for reminding me that my limited edition, favorite pair of shoes were completely and utterly ruined by your stupidity. That makes me so much more happy in this moment." 

Groaning, he stood and pictured his bedroom in his mind. A moment later, he opened his eyes and sighed. "And I can't fucking apparate back home." 

"Just stay here," Harry said. "We'll go over to the Ministry together in the morning." 

Sighing, Draco said, "Fine," and moved towards the couch. 

Harry stood. "Okay, I'll, uh...I'll see you in the morning." 

Lying down on the couch and closing his eyes, Draco said, "You better hope I wake up and find this all was just a nightmare." 

__________

Harry groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "Would you stop with the tapping?" 

For a moment, Draco's foot tapping stopped so he could focus all of his energy on glaring at Harry. But then he resumed, not saying a word. 

They were sitting side-by-side in the hallway, waiting for Hermione and the other Unspeakables to come back with some diagnostics about the box. Draco was sufficiently anxious and it was showing terribly: if he wasn't tapping his foot, he was chewing on his lip or picking at hangnails. Or all three at once. 

Without even looking next to him, Harry put a hand on top of both of Draco's, stilling his picking fingers. "Seriously, just, please. You always do this when you're anxious and then it makes me anxious. Couldn't you just pace like a normal person?" 

Draco scoffed. "Just because pacing is your way of dealing with things. You know that that makes me anxious when you do that? Which is saying much more because I generally freak out an appropriate amount and you're too oblivious to realize usually how dire a situation actually is so when you start to panic it's quite the sign that something is really wrong." 

"Damn, you're irritable." 

Again, Draco sent a scathing glare. 

"All I'm saying," Harry continued. "Is like I said earlier: we're in this together. I'm going through the same thing you are."

"Yes, Potter, because of your stupidity. If the roles had been reversed, we never would have gotten into this situation. The box was radiating Dark Magic, Harry, and yet you decided the great idea of the century would be to open it. Because surely nothing could go wrong. I, however, would have left that damn box on the shelf where it clearly wanted to stay."

"Oh, yes," Harry returned. "And I'm sure you never had to learn that lesson the hard way growing up at the Manor." 

Now, Draco shifted towards Harry a bit, looking at him clearly now. "Yes, I did, Potter. But the situation is a little different because I was a child and you are a fucking auror who should know better. And yet you drag me into this whole mess with you. Which, typical, by the way, Potter." 

He glanced up at the ceiling, "And just last night, I was thinking..." He muttered, quietly enough that Harry barely only caught it. 

And it was true, as far as Draco was concerned. Clearly, Draco had been out of his mind last night before this all went down, thinking about being in love with Potter and all of that stupid shit. It was because he was away from Potter for merely a few hours and had somehow forgotten that his auror partner was an idiot. Who would constantly get them into messes like these. That then other people had to solve. 

"Thinking what?" Harry asked and Draco remembered he had started that sentence out loud. 

"It's not important, Potter. Just shut up and wait for Hermione to get back." 

Understanding that now was not the time to be pushing anything with Draco, Harry just nodded and folded his hands in his lap, waiting patiently. 

They ended up waiting a few more hours. Harry made a run to get tea for both of them (which Draco was too busy fidgeting to drink so Harry drank them both) and the two got into the same fight a few more times, but eventually, Hermione was walking down the hall towards them. 

"We have good news and bad news," she said, stopping in front of them. 

Draco had already jumped up, eager for what she was going to say and now Harry followed with a sigh. "Okay, let's start with the good news," he said. 

"Ignore him." Draco held a hand out in front of Harry. "Bad news first." 

"Well," Hermione began. "The good news is that no one else got hurt and the curse appears to be reversible." 

"That's great!" Harry said, at the same time Draco exclaimed, " Appears ?" 

"And therein lies the bad news," Hermione continued. "We've been working on it for hours and we are no closer at all to finding out what reverses the curse."

"Well are we supposed to do?" Draco asked. "There isn't any sort of convoluted riddle or map or object or—“

"Draco," Hermione stopped him. "There's nothing. And it doesn't look like we're going to be able to figure it out. We have curse-breakers working on the box now, but it looks like for the time being, you both are going to have to go without."

"What about our cases?" Harry asked. 

"I imagine someone else will have to take them over. We have no idea how long this could last. And—“ Here, she paused, coming closer to the two of them. "We're recommending some therapy for you both. You have to start accepting the possibility that we'll never be able to break this curse. Or that by the time we figure out what is needed to break the curse, it will be too late." 

Hermione took a step back, looking like she wanted to comfort them but didn't know how and so she wanted to be anywhere else at the moment. "I'm very sorry," she added. "I have to go back and continue helping, now. I promise I'll keep working on it. Counselors are on the second floor, as you probably know." 

Then, with a nod, Hermione turned and walked back down the hallway, leaving the two of them standing there, alone. 

Numb, Draco sat down on the bench once more. 

"Draco, I—“ Harry started, but he didn't know how to continue. Eventually, he just sat down next to him, unsure what to feel himself. 

"It's okay, Harry," Draco mumbled. "I know what I said but, really, it's not your fault. Oftentimes dark objects have ways of drawing us to them. They have their own agendas. It's not your fault." 

Harry was thankful but he didn't know how to respond so he just took Draco's hand. He was surprised when Draco let his head tip to the side to rest on Harry's shoulder. Both of them were in shock. 

"At least we have each other, right?" Draco asked and Harry's heart clenched in his chest to hear the tightness in Draco's voice. 

"Right," Harry whispered, and held his hand tighter. 

__________

It wasn't until nearly three days later that they realized their magic being gone was apparently not the only side-effect of the curse. 

They were standing outside the front door of Draco's flat. They were both tired and worn out from therapy and the emotional exhaustion and were honestly getting a little bit on each other's nerves. For the last few days, though, they hadn't left each other's sides because they were the only support they had. They were the only ones who knew what it felt like. 

But now the need for space from the insufferable git that was Harry Potter was far greater than Draco's need for his support right now, so they had decided to part ways for a little while. Neither knew quite how long it would last, but they really needed a breather. 

"I'll see you probably tomorrow, Potter. I'm sure we can manage a night alone," he joked. But then, in a more serious tone, Draco added, "That being said, if you need me or if I need you..." 

Harry nodded. "You know where to find me. Even if you can't apparate there." 

Draco gave a sad smile and then opened his door, Harry turning to leave. 

Seconds later, Draco was halfway to his kitchen and Harry was halfway down the steps when Draco stopped, putting his hand on the wall beside him. He suddenly felt a very intense wave of nausea and he doubled over slightly, his other hand on his stomach. Hoping it would pass, he stayed there for a moment. 

On the steps down from Draco's flat, Harry was in much of the same position. But then Draco took a step further and Harry, in turn, felt a strong tugging sensation from somewhere seemingly in his torso and his feet were swept out from under him. 

Naturally, Harry started sliding down the stairs and Draco was shocked when he was suddenly pulled back. Harry started tumbling down the steps and Draco was pulled backwards through his hallway until his back—and head, he would add—slammed against the closed door. 

And finally, two steps from the landing, Harry's fall came to an abrupt stop. 

Both men groaned, pressing a hand to their stomachs where it felt like their organs were being pulled out. The nausea was overwhelming now and Draco was seeing stars dance across his vision. At once, he realized what must have been happening but as Harry hadn't moved towards him to give him any slack on this weird invisible rope (the best mental image Draco could come up with at the moment), Draco couldn't do anything about getting the door open, since it opened inward. He was stuck. 

And he could only hope that his idiot auror partner would come back towards him instead of trying to walk further away. 

As Draco had predicted, of course, Harry had no idea what was happening. All he knew was that he was feeling strangely nauseous all of a sudden and that he had fallen down some stairs. Straightening up, he brushed himself off and decided that he needed to get back home now. And for the millionth time in the last few days, he wished so much he could just apparate there. 

He started to take a step forward and when he tried to shift his weight onto his foot that was outstretched and hovering over the next step, he found he couldn't move forward any. And that pain was back worse this time. 

Meanwhile, back on the other side of the door, Draco felt the tug and wished Potter would stop being an idiot already. Reaching up, he pounded hard on the door, hoping Harry would hear him. 

"Harry!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. 

Continually oblivious, Harry heard Draco's yell and forgot all about his situation with the nausea and the weird tugging feeling and not being able to walk forward and turned and sprinted up the steps to where Draco clearly needed him. 

Sighing with relief when he felt things start to return to normal and the nausea start to subside, Draco was able to stand and move back enough to open the door as Harry was reaching the landing. 

"Draco, what is it?" Harry asked, frantically. "What's wrong?" 

Giving him a flat look—only because he was too tired and still recovering to muster up a proper glare—Draco just said, "Get inside, Potter." 

Harry walked in and Draco closed the door behind him, placing a hand to his own brow. 

"Are you alright, Draco?" 

"Yes, no thanks to you," he snapped, lowering his hand. 

Harry sighed deeply. "Look, I know it's my fault that we both lost our magic, but I thought we had said that—“

Draco waved his hand, trying to get Harry to shut up. "No, scarhead, did you not feel that? The nausea and then the tugging?" 

Remembering now, Harry's face started to clear of confusion. "You felt that too?" Then, the process seemed to reverse itself. "Wait, why? I'm confused. Do you think it has to do with the curse?"

Instead of answering Draco just crossed his arms and started tapping his foot, waiting for Harry to catch up. It wasn't that Harry was stupid—no, he could be quite adept at times—but that he was just bad at seeing details sometimes. 

Once Harry took stock of Draco's annoyance, he appeared to be getting there himself. "Okay, genius," Harry said. " How is it connected to the curse?" 

Shifting his weight, Draco stopped tapping his foot. "Probably in the same way that we both ended up losing our magic. I don't think it had anything to do with me being in the vicinity. Clearly," He gestured towards the door, indicating what had just happened. "We're connected somehow. Quite literally, I might add." 

Harry sighed, moving into the other room to sit down. Draco followed. Logically, he knew that Harry being that far wouldn't trigger the sensation because they hadn't been attached at the hip the previous days, just close, but he still didn't want to risk that unpleasant feeling. 

"Okay," Harry started. "But if it wasn't because you were in the vicinity, why you? Out of all of the people that the curse could have connected me to, why did it choose you? You even mentioned yourself the other day that dark artifacts seem to have a will of their own sometimes. Well, what was this one's?" 

Subconsciously scooting closer to Harry on the couch, Draco also sighed. And in the back of the mind he noted the ways in which he had picked up Harry's mannerisms and his mind started to wander back to what he had been thinking about just before this whole thing began. 

He tucked his feet under himself and tried to bring his thoughts back around to the question that Harry asked. And that was when it hit him. He wanted to lean his head back and groan. How many magical curses were because of love? 

The answer was many. So many. And being an auror, Draco and Harry were all too aware of how often people were cursed because of unrequited love. Or jealousy. Or, or, or. When it came to love, there was really no telling. 

Was it because of Draco's feelings for Harry? And if so, what was he supposed to say? 

Quickly, he decided that he wasn't going to admit he had feelings for Harry unless he knew for sure that it was related to the curse. Why risk things when it possibly had nothing to even do with this? He would get his hands on the box and run some of his own diagnostics. 

"I have no idea," Draco said. Because he was absolutely not going to risk the one person who understood what he was going through right now. Harry was his auror partner, the person who knew him best, and if Draco was being entirely honest, Potter was his best friend. And he needed him now more than ever. 

"Well, maybe this will help us get closer to breaking the curse," Harry offered. And Draco could tell by his voice that he really believed it. In part, Draco did too. That was, unless his very recent theory turned out to be wrong. Because then Draco had no idea why it would have chosen the two of them. 

They resolved for Harry to stay the night at Draco's since they were both already there. And because of how hesitant they were to be apart, minutes after Draco laid down in his bed, the door to the room pushed open and Harry was standing with the pillow and blanket Draco had left him with on the couch. 

"Hey," Harry whispered in the dark. 

Draco sat up. "What is it, Potter?" 

Closing the door behind him, Harry moved into the room. "I don't know about you, but I'm still recovering from that whole thing earlier. Would it make you uncomfortable if I slept on the floor in here? Just to be closer to you?" 

Just to be closer to you. Draco felt those words deeply even though he knew it was a different context than what his feelings were spiking for. 

"Uh, sure, go ahead," Draco mumbled. "You don't have to sleep on the floor, Harry, we can transfigure something into—“

He stopped. In the quiet, Harry laughed. And it wasn't a hesitant laugh like they had been doing over the past few days when one of them slipped up. It was a full laugh as if Harry couldn't control it. 

"Sorry, Draco, I just...I was just thinking about stopping you and saying 'oh no, really, I'm fine, I've slept on the floor before, no need to go to the trouble.' It really is just instinct, huh?"

Lying back down in bed, Draco took a deep breath, trying to not panic. "Yeah, it really is." 

Harry spread out his blanket on the floor before lying down on his back with his hands across his chest. Draco rolled over onto his stomach so he could look over the side of the bed at Harry. 

"Hey," Harry said in the moonlight. 

"You already said that," Draco mumbled, half into his pillow. 

Harry just smiled. "I know. You know, Draco, if it turns out the curse chose you specifically, I know you would have rather it been anyone else, but personally if I could pick who I got to be stuck with, I'd pick you." 

Draco groaned. "No, you wouldn't. You'd pick Weasley." 

In all seriousness, Harry said, "No. I'd pick you." 

Shifting so he could see Harry fully now, Draco's curiosity was definitely piqued. "Why?" 

"Look, Ron's my best mate and I love him and everything, but he's got this whole life. He's got Hermione and Rose was born not too long ago. And I'd probably get tired of being attached to him. But you and I? We've been auror partners for years. Fights between me and Ron get nasty and if we were connected to each other, we'd be bound to have one. Despite what people would have thought from our time at Hogwarts together, we don't really have big fights. 

"I think that's probably because you just always say what's bothering you. Which is strange because you definitely only do it with me. Don't think I haven't noticed. With everyone else, you can hide your emotions and act like everything is wonderful. But if you're annoyed with me in the slightest, oh, you for sure let me know. And we've been partners for so long...It would be weird to be connected like this to anyone else. 

"You know, I don't feel uncomfortable sleeping in the same room as you. We've done it enough times. I've been cursed with you before. I know that you have my back in everything. Ron has Hermione, you know? If I have problems, you're the first person I go to. I tell you almost everything. I mean, who has always been there—every single time since we became auror partners—each time I wake up in St. Mungo's? There's no one else I would want to be connected with." 

Seemingly finished, Harry relaxed and closed his eyes. A moment later, they popped open again. "Maybe that's why the curse chose you!" 

But Draco was still trying to process that mini speech. "Yeah, maybe," he mumbled before rolling back over the edge of the bed so Harry couldn't see his face. 

He was in the same position as he had been earlier that week. Was there love here or was he just hallucinating? 

Closing his eyes, Draco tried not to curse aloud. The curse was definitely because of love, wasn't it? 

__________

It wasn't until the morning that Draco realized the flaw in his plan. 

He had wanted to go into the Ministry to run his own diagnostics on the box so he could see if it really did have anything to do with love. That way he wouldn't have to tell Harry that he had feelings for him. But, of course, he couldn't be too far from Harry so how the hell was he supposed to hide anything from him right now? 

"I think we should test how far the limit is," Harry said over his toast that morning. 

Draco looked over his shoulder, pausing in drying the dish he was holding. "Merlin's tits, why ?" He set the dish down and turned to Harry. "Did you not also feel the downright terrible sensation yesterday? Why would you want to repeat that?" 

"Okay, listen," Harry started and Draco rolled his eyes. Seeing the look on his face, Harry repeated, "No, really, listen, listen. So, I don't know about you, but I started feeling suddenly really nauseous. And then my feet gave out from under me and I felt that tugging sensation. And then because my feet gave out, I fell down the stairs and then I stopped. What happened with you?" 

Draco thought about it, seeing where Harry was going. "I felt nauseous but I thought it would pass so I kept walking and when I took another step, I felt that." 

Harry nodded. "Right. That probably pulled me off my feet and then I fell." 

Annoyed at the memory, Draco also nodded. "Which dragged me through the hallway until the door stopped me." 

"Which stopped my fall on the stairs with an extremely unpleasant jolt." 

"Okay, so what you're saying is," Draco moved back to the table where Harry was sitting. "We have the nausea as a warning." 

"Yup. So one of us stays in place and we walk until we feel nauseous and then we see how far that is." 

Draco scowled. "Fine." He didn't like the plan, but he had to admit, he was curious to know. 

Harry clapped his hands together. "Okay, I say we go outside and walk down the pavement. It's long and straight. We can mark it with a piece of chalk." 

Crossing his arms, Draco said, "Do you have chalk?" 

"No, but we can just—" He stopped. "Right. No magic." Harry shrugged. "Guess I'll just grab a rock." 

So that's exactly what they did. Well, not quite because there weren't exactly rocks to grab so they used a couple items from Draco's flat. Specifically, a small jar that used to contain a potions ingredient and a charmed paperweight that looked like a rock. 

Draco stood with his place marked by the jar and Harry slowly walked away from him. He could see him walking away and they both put a hand to their stomachs at the same moment. So Harry set down the paperweight and walked back to Draco. 

"Is it just me," he said while approaching. "Or does that seem shorter than the distance last night?" 

Draco nodded. "No it definitely does. It was about fifteen meters last night. That looks like about twelve." 

"Okay," Harry said, backing up once more. "Then I'm going to walk farther. If it was about fifteen last night, we should at least be able to get a bit farther than this. I'll go slow, but be prepared."

Draco nodded his acknowledgement and consent and Harry walked back to the paperweight. Then, he took a slow step farther and the nausea immediately got worse. On the next step, they both felt the tugging in their stomach and they were yanked towards each other. 

For a moment, Draco lay on the pavement, groaning with a hand pressed to his torso. After a minute or so, Harry came to stand next to him, offering him a hand up.

"Well, that didn't work," Harry said. "Let's go get our markers. And try and stay within twelve meters, I suppose." 

"I agree," Draco said and they both walked to pick up Draco's things. 

Draco was still a few steps away from the jar when he started to feel nauseous again. In a panic, he looked over his shoulder, expecting to see Harry already beyond the paperweight. But he was a few steps away as well. 

"Harry, stop!" Draco yelled, running towards him. 

When he reached him, Harry looked confused. "Did you feel that, too? I hadn't even made it to the—“

"Me either. I think every time we overdo it, the distance that can be allowed between us gets shorter."

"Oh, that's not good," Harry said. 

"Yeah, that was about ten and a half meters." 

"Oh, that's really not good." 

Draco put his hands on Harry's shoulders. "Potter, we have to do everything in our power to not push those limits again, ever .”

"Well, yeah, of course," Harry said. 

"No, Harry," Draco shook his head. "If we can't break this curse, we have to be within about ten meters of each other every moment for the rest of our lives. So if we push it again and that distance gets shortened—“

"Oh, shit ! That's really not good !”

"Fuck," Draco cursed. "And I thought my top reason for wanting this curse broken was getting my magic back. I mean, we get along fairly well, Harry, but no two people are meant to be that close together for that long." 

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "We've got to figure this out. No offense, but my magic can be damned." 

"I completely agree." 

Draco let go of Harry and took a deep breath. "Okay, let's get to the Ministry. I have something else I want to look at on that box." 

__________

But it didn't turn out. Draco couldn't get any more information out of it than the Unspeakables or the curse breakers working on it. And after a month, the case was put to the side. The Unspeakables had moved on fairly quickly—save Hermione who would still spend a few hours a week on it. The curse breakers had far more pressing and life-threatening curses to attend to. So it ended up the only people obsessing over the box for any significant period of time to be Harry and Draco. 

And it had been two months. 

And they had found nothing. 

Harry had moved into Draco's flat because it had less space than Grimmauld Place and they were both desperate to avoid a shortening of their tie to one another. They had used chalk to mark a large circle in the home, moving the majority of their furniture into the circle that had a diameter of 10.5 meters. Despite the warning of the nausea, they committed to both staying in the safe circle unless the other knew they were stepping outside of it. And they hadn't had any problems so far. 

Draco was sitting on the couch, still staring at the box when Harry walked in with two mugs of tea. 

He saw what Draco was doing and sighed, setting the tea down on the end table. Then, he took the box from Draco's hands and, setting it on the floor, gave it a hefty push so that it slid outside of the chalk marking on the floor. 

"Hey!" Draco said. "I was working on that!" 

Harry sat down next to him and took his hands. "Draco," he started. 

"I know," Draco muttered. 

"It's not that we're giving it up. But you're just not going to find anything new, especially when you can't run any magical tests. And you're spending all your time on it; it's not healthy. We have to accept that this is how our life is. And it is looking like it's probably going to be that way forever, so we have to learn how to live like this and what our life is going to look like." 

Draco shrugged dejectedly. "Well, what's the point, Harry? What life do we have? If we're taking that attitude, we need to just go all the way and try and integrate ourselves into the muggle world. We can't sit in this circle the rest of our life and there isn't anything for us in the wizarding world if we don't have magic." 

"It's not like there's much we can do. Wizarding or muggle, we couldn't get jobs. We have to stay this close to each other. Luckily, between the Potters and the Malfoys, money isn't going to be an issue. But you're right. I think we should integrate into the muggle world." 

Draco turned to him with wide eyes. "I said, ‘if...then,’ Potter. Not let's do it! I'm not ready to give up!" 

"We're not giving up," Harry said, squeezing his hands. "But even if this ends next week, this is still the life that we're living now. And we don't know how long that's going to be. I say that we move into the muggle part of town. Start to make a life. If things change, that's great. But if they don't, we keep living in the meantime. Look, just...think about it?" Harry asked. "At least it would be something else for you to think about instead of that damned box." 

He stood, giving Draco his space. He handed him the tea he made from him and then returned to the kitchen, sitting down at the table that had been awkwardly pushed into the circle. 

After a few weeks, Draco told Harry that maybe he was right. Maybe Draco did need to learn how to live in the meantime because they didn't know how long it would last. And so they moved. 

Packing up all of their things the muggle way made Draco whine and protest, constantly asking Harry why they couldn't just have their friends over to wave their wands and make everything fit itself away into the boxes. But Harry insisted, showing Draco how to wrap all of the glassware in the packing paper and put stacks of books into small boxes because they got heavy fast and couldn't be charmed to be lighter. 

And they moved into a small home that was no more than ten and a half meters in diameter unless you went into the corners (which they plugged up with things like plants and bookshelves so they weren't accessible anyway). 

They had arrived at their new home early that morning and Harry had insisted that he wanted to get as much unpacked as he could that night. So they had both been working all day long on as many boxes as they could and Draco had just decided to be done for the evening and sat down on the couch when there was a knock on the door. 

Walking to it, Harry joined him and they opened the door together. Standing outside were two overly smiley muggles holding a plastic bag. 

"Hi!" The woman said. American. "My husband and I are your next-door neighbors! We saw that you moved in this morning and thought you might be hungry so we brought you some takeout. It's from our favorite place; it's just down the road. I'm Alice and this is Ronan." She gestured at her husband and handed them the bag. 

"Oh, uh, thank you? I'm Draco and this is Harry." Draco said, taking the bag, wondering what was going on. 

"Nice to meet you two! Well, we won't take up too much of your time; just wanted to introduce ourselves. But we'll let you go now. Just wanted to be neighborly. Enjoy the food!" The couple started to walk away and they heard Alice say to her husband, "Don't they just make the cutest couple?" 

Harry laughed a little, shutting the door and shaking his head. "Americans. So overly friendly." 

"Why are they smiling so much? It's like someone jinxed them to be happy." 

"Who cares?" Harry said, grabbing the bag from Draco. "They brought food and it smells good and we haven't unpacked enough of our kitchen to make anything because someone —“ He threw a pointed look at Draco while walking the food into the kitchen. "Thought it was more of a priority to get his books straightened out." 

"Yes, Potter, thank you for acknowledging my needs are more important," Draco laughed, following him into the kitchen. 

They settled into a routine fairly quickly. A lot of their time was spent learning how to do things the muggle way (re-learning a lot of what he had taken for granted with magic for Harry and some totally new experiences for Draco). 

They both did a lot of cooking. Draco was slowly getting better, but he was still burning pretty much everything because Harry once told him that if chicken was pink in the middle it could make you sick and had thrown it out. Harry was convinced the burning was therefore at least a little bit spiteful, but Draco always played it off, so he could never be sure. 

They also were getting up to date with technology. Things had changed quite a bit since Harry had been involved enough with the muggle world to know how all the tech worked, so even he was struggling a bit with the learning curve. 

After about a month, things had evened out. They had found that Draco was much better with the regimented instructions that came alongside baking that cooking lacked and Harry had gotten everyone (meaning, Draco, Hermione, and Ron) up to date with using mobile phones. He and Draco rented movies and spent a lot of time at the local muggle library and even once had dinner with Alice and Ronan (which Draco begged Harry that he wouldn't have to do again). 

Turns out, Draco was super into rom coms. Which, if Harry had to admit, he wasn't shocked by. It kind of made sense, when he thought about it and he wasn't exactly even sure why. But it was true so they were watching yet another one tonight. 

"I love this actress," Draco commented. "We should watch more things with her in them." 

"Draco," Harry laughed. "We already watched Speed , The Lake House , and Miss Congeniality ."

"What's this one called again?" 

"Uh," Harry glanced at the box. " While You Were Sleeping. " 

"I think I like this one the best of hers so far. The others were good, don't get me wrong, but The Lake House was so sad. This is just the right balance of happy, entertaining, and romance. But I will say, The Lake House and Speed both have the redeeming qualities of having that very cute guy in them." 

"Keanu Reeves? You refused to watch The Matrix with me last week!" 

Draco rolled his eyes. "I don't like that kind of thing. 'Oh, we're all living in a simulation, let me stop bullets with my hand.' Cause that's totally possible, uh huh, sure." 

Trying not to laugh, Harry looked at him but Draco was busy watching the movie. "Right. Totally impossible. Just like, say, thinking about a place and then suddenly appearing there. By magic." 

Still not looking away from the television, Draco scoffed. "Yes, but that's different." 

"How?" 

"Magic is real!" 

Harry laughed. "It's science-fiction, Draco! It's based on science . Science is real, too, you know!" 

Draco smacked him with a throw pillow. "Would you shut up? Lucy's about to tell Jack that it's him that she loves! Not that arse Peter!" 

"We knew this was going to happen the moment Jack walked on screen. Why are you surprised to—“

"Shh!" Draco held out his hand, wildly. 

Harry just laughed quietly, watching Draco as he tried not to cry while Lucy made her love confession and fled the wedding. And staring at him there, Harry realized he was in love with Draco. 

His breath caught in his throat, but luckily Draco was too busy watching the movie to notice. 

As he sat there, Harry realized slowly that he had been in love with Draco for a long time, hadn't he? Draco was the one he wanted to be with. Draco was the one he honestly didn't mind being cursed with and tied to for the rest of his life. He was in love with Draco. Deeply. 

The thought should have scared him, but it didn't really. Because he already knew he was probably going to spend the rest of his life with Draco. Even if it was because of a curse. And although it made him feel guilty, Harry felt strangely glad for the box that lived deep in a cupboard now. 

__________

Another month had passed since Harry had had this realization. They were in the kitchen together and it was getting late and Harry was helping Draco make dinner for the two of them. 

Helping being the key word, as Harry kept reminding Draco, because "No, Draco, for the last time, I'm not going to do it for you." 

"But why not," Draco whined, stirring the pan. "Why do I even have to learn to do it? It's not like you're ever not going to be there. The farthest you could go is to the other side of the house."

"Well maybe I don't want to cook every night! Ever think of that?" 

"Well maybe I could just pick up the phone and call for take out! Ever think of that?" 

Harry laughed, hopping up on the counter to supervise. "We're living off of a budget, remember? The least you can do is learn a few simple recipes." 

"Fine," Draco said before muttering, "But you're getting burnt chicken again." 

"Hey, I heard that!" 

"Heard what?" Draco looked over his shoulder, perfectly innocent. 

"You're an arse," Harry laughed. 

"Oh, but you love me," Draco smiled, turning back to the stove. 

Luckily, he wasn't looking at him anymore because Harry froze. Draco had said it in an offhand way, the way that friends say it. But Harry slipped off the counter and came behind Draco, reaching around him and turning off the stove. 

Confused, Draco turned back towards him and found Harry right there in front of him. 

"Did I do something wrong? About to burn the house down?" 

"I do, Draco." 

"Pardon?" 

"Love you," Harry clarified. "And I know it's a major risk saying that because we can't go farther than ten and a half meters from each other, but if we're going to be spending the rest of our lives this close, I have to say it. I can't keep hiding my feelings. I love you, Draco." 

"Oh," Draco said, taking a small breath. "Harry, I—“

"No," Harry cut him off. "You don't have to say anything. I know I shouldn't have told you, but we can just pretend like it never happened, really, Draco. It's okay. I understand that—“

Rolling his eyes, Draco leaned in and kissed him. 

It was quick enough that Harry was still too much in shock to kiss back before Draco pulled away. 

"I love you, too, scarhead," Draco laughed. And then he laughed louder, tipping his head against Harry's. 

Draco felt giddy to finally say it and felt a warmth spreading through his whole body. He had never been so happy. He wrapped his arms around Harry and tried to stop laughing, but found that he couldn't, even when Harry—all smiles—tried to kiss him again, properly this time. 

But it was okay, Draco knew. Because they would have the rest of their lives to kiss properly. And he had never felt so happy. 

__________

The next morning, Harry grunted, slapping the nightstand to try and find his phone that was ringing without opening his eyes. Draco groaned on the other side of him. 

"Harry. Phone." 

Sighing, Harry sat up and opened his eyes in the morning light, finally finding his phone and flipping it open to Ron's urgent voice. 

"Harry, shit , we're at St. Mungo's." Immediately, Harry was wide awake. "Rose has a fever and it's gotten really bad and I'm really freaking out, Harry. Could you and Draco get down here? Hermione and I are just..."

"Yeah, yeah, fuck, of course. We'll be there as soon as we can." 

"Thanks, Harry." 

"Okay," Harry rushed out, starting to stand up. "Talk soon." 

He flipped the phone shut and turned to wake up Draco to find that he was already getting out of bed. "We've got to go," Harry said. 

"What's going on?" Draco asked, starting to walk towards the closet to grab clothes, throwing some in Harry's direction, sensing the urgency. 

"Ron and Hermione are at St. Mungo's ‘cause Rose apparently has a really bad fever and Ron's freaking out. Thanks," he added, grabbing the shirt Draco had thrown at him and putting it on. "Cmon, Draco, he sounded really shook up." Harry started out of the room. 

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Draco said, hurrying behind him. 

Starting to freak out himself and wanting to get there as quick as possible, Harry started down the hallway, knowing Draco was following, and he opened the door and stepped outside, waiting for the tug of nausea to tell him when to slow down. 

"Wait, my shoes!" Draco yelled. 

Harry almost yelled to stop him, but then he realized he was still standing outside and there was no nausea. Still, he took a step back in for safety. 

Draco appeared in the hallway, shoes in his hand and stopped in his tracks when he saw Harry. "What? What is it?" 

"Did you get those from the closet?"

"Yeah, where else?" 

The closet was all the way at the far end of the house from the front door. And Harry had been standing outside. 

He didn't want to allow in the hope that he was feeling, but it came in without asking him. Quietly, under his breath, Harry whispered and then every light in the house turned on at once. 

"Harry..." Draco started, looking around him. 

Tears starting to form in his eyes, Harry looked at Draco. " Nox ," he said loud enough for Draco to hear and all of the lights turned back off. 

In disbelief, Draco tried it himself. " Lumos ." Light all around him. 

" Nox ," Harry laughed, starting to cry. 

" Lumos!”

" Nox!”

They ran to each other and held tight for a quick moment before Draco pulled back. "Harry, we still have to get to St. Mungo's."

"Oh, shit right!" Holding Draco tight, Harry shut his eyes and in a stomach-twisting moment he had almost forgotten the feeling of, they were in the waiting room at St. Mungos. 

They spotted Hermione and Ron and walked over to them. 

Ron turned and saw them. "Oh, thank Merlin," Ron said, standing to hug Harry. "They ran some tests and she's going to be fine. They're getting the fever down now but they said we can't be in the room while the magic is working. But she's okay." He laughed a little, tears in his eyes. 

"Wait," Ron added. "How did you two get here so fast?" 

With a smile on his face, Harry shared a glance with Draco. "We apparated." 

"What?" 

"Apparently our magic is back." 

"Harry, that's great," Hermione said. Before anyone could say anything else, a mediwitch came and retrieved Hermione and Ron and took them to see their daughter. 

"Thanks for coming, Harry," Ron said before they left. "I was just freaked out, but you don't have to stay. I'll call you later and update you." 

Harry nodded. "Sounds good. I can be there in a moment, as soon as you need me." 

Ron nodded and the two disappeared, leaving Harry and Draco alone for things to finally catch up to them. 

They ended up going back home and sat on their couch, both still a little in shock. 

"How long do you think we had them without realizing it?" Harry asked and Draco's jaw dropped. He knew exactly how long. 

"Harry, last night, when you told me that you loved me and we kissed, did you feel really warm all over?" 

Nodding, Harry scrunched up his face. "Yeah, but that's just ‘cause I was happy." 

"That's what I thought, too." Draco felt like he could slap himself. "I don't know why I didn't see it sooner. When this whole thing started, I was wondering if it affected me as well because I was in love with you, but there was nothing to indicate that and I was too afraid of losing you to tell you." 

"Why didn't I even think of that? I hadn't realized yet that I was in love with you, but I've known for a while now that it's been years. And we both know that about half of all curses we deal with are somehow related to love." 

Draco nodded, moving closer to Harry. "And it would make sense that a curse like that would try and keep the two cursed people close together." 

"Why the magic, though, d'you think?"

Shrugging Draco pulled Harry to him. "Who cares? We have our magic back, the curse is broken, and we're in love." 

Harry leaned them back on the couch so that he was lying atop Draco. He kissed him softly, and then pulled back abruptly. "D'you think they'll give us our jobs back?"

Draco laughed, pushing at Harry's shoulder. "Who cares about that right now?" 

"You're right." He pushed a hand through Draco's hair, moving it off of his forehead. "I couldn't care about anything right now. I'm too happy." 

With a hand on his cheek, Draco pulled him down. "Me too," he whispered.