Harry's track record of love was quite pathetic for a young adult wizard at the age of seventeen.
It began in Kindergarten when he kissed the cute brown locked boy he liked on the cheek and was humiliated for it by standing in front of the entire group to be laughed at. At home he was locked up inside the cupboard for the whole weekend to reflect on being a disgusting pouf. Harry decided to never even look at boys again.
In elementary school Harry was isolated by Dudley and his peers who made a game out of it by pretending to get sick when anyone came near Harry. So, Harry didn’t dream of even talking to the nice girl who sat next to him and smiled at him in classes. Sometimes Harry wished it was true and when Dudley’s best friend Piers Polkiss really fell ill the day after poking Harry relentlessly in the ribs and laughing at him while throwing his meagre lunch in the dirt, well Harry wasn’t above taking credit for it secretly.
His misfortune continued at Hogwarts when his first real kiss on the lips was rather wet because Cho was crying. Harry, too, mourned the loss of Cedric in that moment, as he admitted to himself later.
The time with Ginny was comforting during sixth year. When everything was over, they shared their trauma, grieved and supported each other. Kissing and cuddling was soothing. But there was something missing, Harry realized, as he witnessed Ron’s and Hermione’s progressing relationship. Where Harry and Ginny were basking in the comfort of another’s warmth and reassuring touch, Hermione and Ron, too found solace in each other – but in a more intimate way. There were sparks and fire in every touch, in every loving gaze that elicited a yearning in Harry he couldn’t describe. The intimacy he shared with Ginny felt exactly like a hug from Mrs. Weasley or a brotherly clap on his shoulder from George. When he broached the subject with Ginny, she was understanding and confessed to having similar thoughts. They broke up, deciding to stay very good friends.
He also came out to Ron, Hermione and Ginny as bisexual. His fear of their rejection was immediately extinguished by them throwing themselves at him with well-wishes and thank you’s for his trust – and the offer of introducing him to Charlie who was gay, apparently, which he thankfully declined. Harry didn’t feel ready to try dating again anytime soon. The countless love letters he received every day kind of creeped him out of this whole love business.
Back at Hogwarts to finish their education Harry clung to Ron and Hermione shamelessly thirdwheeling, much to the couple’s displeasure. Don’t get them wrong, they both loved Harry to the moon and back. But a couple needed their romantic just-us-two-time, Harry, for Merlin’s sake. And so it was that Hermione and Ron had a date in Hogsmeade on a beautiful late summer afternoon – Harry happily tugging along, supportively „eeewwww“-ing at their displays of public affection and sandwiching himself between his best friends. It was actually inevitable that the situation would escalate as follows:
“Honestly Harry, why don’t you hang out with Ginny and Luna or literally anyone else! Ron and I are on a date,” Hermione huffed in irritation at her third failed attempt to hold hands with Ron due to Harry interfering.
“I want to spent time with my best friends. For the very first time, I get to go to Hogsmeade with you without anything to do with the war hanging over my head. Can't I enjoy this with my friends?” Harry whined, his eyes widening like a puppy pleading for a treat.
Hermione cooed at him, guilt ridden, and was about to reassure him, that ‘yes, of course, you can, in fact, spent all the time you want with us, Harry’ – but was quickly interrupted by her boyfriend. Ron glared at Harry sternly, “Your inner Slytherin is showing, mate, and it’s not working.” Then he punched Harry in the shoulder brotherly, which meant a bit too much on the painful side. “Why don’t you ask a girl or bloke on a date for a change? Anyone would be overjoyed for a chance to date the saviour of the wizarding world,” Ron exclaimed.
Harry glared right back –his Slytherin tactics worked just fine on Hermione, thank you– and rubbed his arm. “That’s the problem. Everyone just wants the saviour and not plain Harry. I’m envious of what you guys have. I doubt I will ever find someone who truly wants me for me.”
“Oh, Harry, that’s exactly what dating is for. Just try going out with a few people and someday you’ll find what you’re looking for. You have to give people a chance!” Hermione said exasperated.
“Well, I don’t want to date casually,” Harry pouted.
“Then you just have to find your soulmate. Best start looking for them now,” Ron tried valiantly to shove Harry out of their booth at the Three Broomsticks.
Harry didn’t budge an inch, practically glued to his seat. “And how would I go about that?” He asked sarcastically. “It’s not like I can just say ‘Accio soulmate!’ Oompf,” Harry groaned when something heavy landed on his lap.
He instinctively wrapped his arms around it to keep it from falling. ‘It’ appeared to be a someone. In particular a blond, pointed-edged someone by the name of “Malfoy?”, Harry asked astonished. Draco peeked up at Harry and immediately scrambled off his lap which left Harry feeling strangely bereft.
“Sorry ‘bout that, Potter. I was on my way out and must’ve stumbled. One firewhisky too much, clearly,” Draco mumbled embarrassed and gestured frantically between the door and his sniggering friends behind him. He waved awkwardly at the trio, saying, “Please excuse me. Enjoy your threesome or whatever,” and fled to his madly cackling friends, ushering them out of the pub hastily.
Harry stared dazedly after him, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at the blond’s behind. It was quite firm, he noticed appreciatively. When he turned back to his friends, they both gave him deadpan looks.
“What?”, Harry asked, self-consciously pushing his glasses up his nose.
“I should’ve seen it coming,” Hermione mumbled incredulously. “It was so obvious.”
Ron nodded empathically, “Figures.”
“What?” Harry demanded again, slightly annoyed at his friends antics.
“Malfoy’s your soulmate,” Ron announced unceremoniously.
Harry sputtered, “How’d you come to that ridiculous conclusion?” He blushed furiously. If he was honest with himself, which he was decidedly not, he kind of liked the idea of Draco being his soulmate. True enough, there always were sparks between them and though they were out of animosity, from another perspective they could be interpreted as sexual tension. Draco always meant a lot to Harry – even as his bitterest rival, the way he managed to get under his skin like no other, the way he always seemed to draw Harry’s attention. Not to mention sixth year, where Harry kind of stalked the blond – yes, Hermione, he reflected on this with his mind healer, as a healthy, traumatized boy is wont to do.
“You said ‘Accio soulmate’ and who came promptly flying into you? Right, Malfoy,” Ron explained slowly. Harry scrunched up his nose, indignantly. He thought as much, he wasn’t dumb.
“But that was just an accident!”, he protested.
Hermione interjected, “We live in a magical world, Harry, there are no accidents.” She gave him a leveling look. Well, okay, maybe he was a bit dumb.
“You should ask him out,” Hermione continued.
Harry blanched, he might be ready to admit to have taken a fancy to the blond git, but he was nowhere ready to act on it. “I have to keep testing this until I can be sure. Soulmates are a serious business after all.”
Hermione perked up at this. She wasn’t one to let an academic opportunity like this slide. “You’re right, Harry. That’s a great idea. I’ll create an experimental plan!”
Ron groaned as any chance at having a remotely romantic time with Hermione–they could’ve sneaked away to Madam Pudifoot’s while Harry needed to go to the toilet and Harry would never set a foot inside MP’s again– was squashed.
“Alright,” Hermione said excitedly. “I’ll go over there,” she gestured towards the other end of the pub, “and Ron has to cast ‘Accio’ in two minutes. And – Go!” She ran through the crowded place to her self-assigned spot.
Sighing, Ron took his wand in hand and said “Accio soulmate!”
They waited, observing the crowd anxiously for any disturbance. Nothing happened. Disappointed, both boys sagged in their seats.
A few minutes later, Hermione came back, frowning. “I didn’t feel anything apart from a slight pull in your general direction, but that could’ve been just my imagination in anticipation of being magically thrown,” she announced, deep in thought. “Maybe it’s not working for everybody. After all, everybody would’ve found their soulmate already if it was that easy. Maybe, it only works for very powerful wizards like Harry. At the Triwizard tournament, you managed to ‘Accio’ your broom from an unreasonable distance – not every witch or wizard would’ve made it work.”
“Or,” Harry said sullenly, “it was just an accident.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry,” Hermione waved him away impatiently.
“Yeah, Harry. Just ask the ferret out,” Ron tried to push Harry out of the booth again, to no avail. “Best to do it now!”
Harry jutted his chin out stubbornly, “Not until I can be sure!” There was a big risk of humiliation involved, after all, if Harry were to ask Draco out on a whim. If he wasn’t his soulmate, surely, he would reject him in a dramatic and public way.
“Try ‘Accio’-ing him again,” Hermione suggested primly.
Unenthusiastically, Harry said, “Accio soulmate.”
Hermione leaned forward, expectantly looking around the pub. Harry, too, waited anxiously for a whole five minutes. The disappointment hit him with surprising strength. He hadn’t really believed in it, but privately had hoped for it to be true.
Hermione was just about to reach out a hand to pat Harry consolingly, when Ron shrieked triumphantly, startling the approaching blond boy into falling onto Harry’s lap.
Draco looked up at Harry through his long, white eyelashes, blushing a lovely shade of pink. “Sorry, Potter. I seem to be quite unsteady on my feet, today,” he chuckled awkwardly and made to stand up. Harry tightened his hold on Draco, staring slack-jawed at the beautiful blond and getting lost in the silver pools of his eyes.
“Uhm, Potter?” Draco asked uncertainly, breaking Harry out of his reverie.
“Sorry,” Harry said, helping Draco stand up. “You just have very stunning eyes,” he blurted, feeling the need to explain himself. Draco’s blush spread to his ears.
“Right,” Harry cleared his throat, shooting a glare to his friends who giggled shamelessly at Harry’s predicament. “Weren’t you on your way out?” Harry turned to Draco.
“Yes. I came back because I lost my pouch,” he looked on the floor. “Ah, there it is.” He bent down to retrieve the pouch. Harry tried and failed to not admire Draco’s bum and legs.
"Well then,” Draco fidgeted with his bag as he pushed the pouch inside. “Best be off, my friends are far off by now. Sorry again, I didn’t mean to interrupt your date.” He lingered uncertainly by Harry’s side, then turned to go.
“Wait,” Harry exclaimed, stopping Draco in his tracks. “It’s not a date, we’re just hanging out. You know, as friends.” Harry hurried to explain.
“Actually, Hermione and I are on a date, but Harry, the third-wheeling, platonic best friend of ours, is ruining it. Why don’t you take him along, so he finally leaves us alone? He’s bisexual and monogamous, by the way.” Ron winked at Draco and successfully shoved Harry out of the booth this time.
Harry stumbled and was saved from falling over by Draco’s arm wrapping around him.
Ron shooed them away, going as far as yelling, “Shoo, shoo!”
Needless to say, this was the turning point for Harry’s love life. Harry spent half of the day persuading Draco that he wasn’t in a love triangle with Ron and Hermione. The better half of the day, he gazed at the lovely features of the blond and got to know him better.
The next day at Hogwarts, Harry called, “Accio soulmate.” Just to be safe. When Draco came stumbling into Harry just outside the Great Hall, he asked him out on a date. Ron was the first to congratulate them – quite enthusiastically at that.
“Accio soulmate,” Harry whispered with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
He heard yelling and screaming and then a very infuriated, very soapy, very naked Draco landed in Harry’s lap.
“Potter, you beast! I was taking a shower! What could possibly be that urgent that you couldn’t wait?!” Draco scolded him, spraying soap and water all over the kitchen table with his angry gesticulating.
“You said you like surprises,” Harry said calmly, bopping his boyfriend on the nose.
Draco squinted down his nose at the offending finger, “Yes, but not like that.”
“Well, you’ll like this one,” Harry held out his fist, slowly opening his hand, finger by finger. On his palm, there lay a ring.
Harry giggled in delight when he heard the front door opening. He was taking a shower and feeling lonely. Draco came home with the perfect timing.
“Accio husband."
He counted to three in his head and smiled when he heard an outraged shriek of “Harry!” and a splash as his husband came sailing in to join him in the shower.
The End.