For the long run

Following McGonagall’s directions, they made their way to their new quarters. The idea of sharing a space was surreal—just months ago, they could barely stand being in the same school, let alone the same room. Yet, strangely, neither of them minded as much as they should have. The bond made the proximity feel... natural.
Finally, they arrived. The door before them was crafted from dark, aged wood, its surface worn smooth from years of use. They exchanged a glance, both silently wondering if the inside would be as aged as the entrance.
Then, with a collective breath, they decided to get it over with.
Reciting the spell McGonagall had given them, they felt the familiar tingle of magic as the wards recognized them. They then unlocked the door with a key, and with a soft click, the door swung open. Draco wasn’t sure why, but knowing their quarters had both magical and physical protections eased something in him. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
Once inside, they both took a moment to absorb their surroundings.
Draco let out a quiet breath, relieved to see that the space wasn’t as cramped or dim as he had feared. A large window dominated one wall, letting in plenty of light and offering a clear view of the Forbidden Forest. That, at least, was a comfort—seclusion meant privacy, and with the forest acting as a natural barrier, there was little chance of unwanted visitors.
Except, of course, for the reckless idiot standing beside him. Draco cast a sidelong glance at Harry, already anticipating the trouble he would inevitably attract. That bloke had a gift for jumping headfirst into chaos, and Draco doubted even the protective wards would be enough to keep him out of it for long.
On the other hand, Harry was too caught up in the sheer size of the place to notice Draco’s scrutiny. His mind was still adjusting to having so much space to himself after years of cramped rooms and overcrowded dormitories. Here, he could breathe. He could invite his friends over, have company when he wanted it, but still retreat into his own world when needed. The idea was oddly reassuring.
They moved further inside, curiosity driving them to explore. The sitting area was warm and inviting, with a fireplace casting a soft glow over well-maintained furniture. The walls, though bare, had shelves just waiting to be filled. Enchanted lamps flickered to life as they stepped through, bathing the space in a cozy light.
To the side, a modest kitchenette stood against the wall—a small stove, a sink, and shelves stocked with basic necessities. It was functional rather than impressive, but it would do.
"Could be worse," Draco muttered, eyeing the setup with mild approval.
Harry barely heard him, already investigating the next door. When he pushed it open, they were met with a private bathroom far nicer than expected. The clawfoot tub sat in the center, deep enough to sink into, while the enchanted mirrors gleamed under the warm lighting. It was almost absurd how fancy the place felt compared to their usual dormitory facilities.
Draco hummed in appreciation. “At least someone had standards,” he remarked, running a finger over the polished sink.
Finally, they reached the last door.
“This must be the bedroom,” Harry guessed.
Draco gave a sigh.
The door creaked open, and sure enough—two beds sat on opposite sides of the room. Both boys let out an unconscious sigh of relief. It was temporary, and they knew the bond would push them toward something far more intimate eventually, but for now, this was a small mercy.
Even so, there was something undeniably strange about it all. The two beds, the careful separation—it almost felt like—
“Newlyweds?” Draco’s voice broke the silence, casual but laced with amusement.
Harry’s head snapped toward him, eyes widening. “What?”
Draco smirked. “Muggles have that, don’t they? Forced to share a home after marriage, awkward and hesitant at first? Though, I’d have preferred someone with better pedigree. But we work with what we have.”
Harry shoved him lightly, but Draco only chuckled in response.
They fell into a quiet moment then, an odd tension settling between them. The space felt comfortable—like something was waiting to unfold.
Harry exhaled and let his eyes wander, noting the way the light played against the walls, the faint scent of parchment, cold firewood, and—Draco. It was something subtle, but unmistakable. A trace of cologne mixed with something warmer, something uniquely his. The realization made Harry’s palms sweat, his heart beat just a little faster.
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. What was he doing? He was a hormonal teenager, sure, but this was hardly the time for those kinds of thoughts.
Still, for the first time since this whole thing started, he truly looked at Draco. He had changed—subtly but undeniably. He was taller now, his once-sharp features softened just enough to make him look...even more pleasing. His gray eyes still held that stormy sharpness, but something else lingered within them—something deeper, almost silver-like when the light caught them just right.
More than that, there was a warmth to him now, a quiet hum of magic that hadn’t been there before. His presence no longer felt cold and distant but something far more present, more alive. Harry could feel it every time their hands brushed accidentally, every time the bond tugged them closer.
Draco, noticing the way Harry was looking at him, smirked. “What? Something the matter, Potter? Can’t get enough of me?”
Harry jerked his head away so fast it was almost comical, his eyes landing on the back of the door. Something was stuck there—several small papers, neatly arranged in a stack that neither of them had noticed before.
“What’s that?” Harry asked, grateful for the distraction.
Draco narrowed his eyes. “Don’t try to change the subject, Potter.”
Harry ignored him and stepped closer, peeling off one of the papers. The heading made his brow furrow.
"Magical Adjustments? What’s this?"

Draco’s smirk deepened as he read the note, clearly unimpressed.
“Okay, Potter, now you’re just pulling my leg. Every house has those. I’m pretty sure even that redhead peasant friend of yours has one at his house.” Draco sneered, clearly disgusted at the thought of Weasley. “Don't tell me you're actually worried about something so trivial. Warding charms, temperature controls—what are you going to ask for next? A personal house-elf to fetch your slippers?”
“Hey. You better stop talking like that if you want this to work.” In a deep warning tone “You may say anything about me because I can take it but my friends are my family. And they are an important part of my life. If you can’t respect that, then you’ve got no place here.” Harry let out the words as if he wanted them as sharp as knives.
Draco rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall.
“yeah yeah, Potter. If you’re so insistent on being ignorant, I might as well explain.” He paused, his voice a little less sharp, almost reluctant. "Magic Adjustments are usually charms that help with the basic security, comfort and privacy of its owners. Alright give me that.” He took the small stack of paper and quickly looked through them. “So…Warding charms are to prevent unwanted visitors, so no one can eavesdrop or barge in on us. A privacy enchantment ensures that whatever happens in here stays in here. And as for temperature control—well that will be going in our favor—, Veela run warm. Very warm. Just like now…your body heat is already starting to drive me crazy," Draco said, his gaze flickering down to Harry with a smirk. "And the last thing we need is your firestorm making things even... hotter. Not that I mind the heat, but it does make things a bit... uncomfortable."
Harry’s face flushed a deep red, and he quickly looked away, trying to regain some composure.
“I—” he started, his voice faltering slightly, before clearing his throat. “That’s not—” He stopped himself, mentally cursing his inability to keep his cool. “You think I want this?” he snapped, glancing up at Draco, though his eyes betrayed the embarrassment still coloring his cheeks. “It’s not like I asked for any of this. So stop acting like I’m the one making things... uncomfortable.”
He quickly turned to the window, focusing on the view of the Forbidden Forest, trying to hide how much Draco’s remark affected him. His heart was racing, and he could feel the heat of his own body, probably much worse now that Draco’s words had stirred something inside him.
Draco noticed Harry’s flush and, though it was clear that Harry was trying to brush it off, Draco couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of regret. His usual smirk faltered for just a second, but his pride quickly kicked in.
“Oi, Potter,” Draco muttered, though his tone had softened slightly. He cleared his throat. "Look, I didn’t mean to make you feel all... embarrassed. The heat, it’s just a lot to deal with, all right? Doesn’t mean I’m trying to make you uncomfortable."
He glanced at Harry, a hint of his usual smirk creeping back, though there was a more reassuring undertone beneath it.
“And don’t think for a second I’m the only one feeling it, either. You’re not the only one stuck in this situation, so you can stop looking so bloody mortified.”
Draco crossed his arms, a touch of pride still present in the way he carried himself.
“If anything, you should be grateful that I’m not making a bigger deal out of it.”
Harry felt the heat in his cheeks fade slightly as Draco’s tone softened. Still, the awkwardness lingered, and he wasn’t sure how to keep the conversation from spiraling. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away from Draco.
“Whatever,” he muttered, his voice quieter than usual, a slight shrug of his shoulders making it clear he wanted to move past the moment. “Let’s just forget about it, yeah?”
He stole a quick glance at Draco, his eyes not meeting him for too long. The whole thing had made him feel exposed in a way he wasn’t used to, and the last thing he wanted was to keep talking about it. He hoped the change in subject would help erase the tension, even if it left him a little embarrassed still.