you've got the antidote for me

Draco had always imagined that his soulmate would be his saving grace.

Even when he was young, he'd been under no illusions about what he was like – proud, yes, but not oblivious. He was spoiled and irritable and downright vindictive when angry, so he'd always thought that it was lucky there was someone destined to love him regardless. Over the years several of these things changed (or were beaten out of him by the war), but the idea of a soulmate – someone who would love him in spite of the Mark on his arm and the many, many mistakes dotting his history – held fast.

Even when the rest of the wizarding world ostracized him, Draco had always soothed himself with the promise that his soulmate was out there, waiting. One day he'd meet someone or reconnect with someone and his string of fate would become visible to him, a thread connecting him to the person he was meant to love and who was meant to love him.

Then, three months after he was officially released from Ministry custody, Draco attempts to make amends with Harry Potter and is told quite firmly that not only does Potter not want anything to do with him, but that he would also prefer that Draco stay away from him entirely.

At first, he doesn't know what to say. He'd done all the right things – he'd apologized after the war, been contrite and polite and had waved his metaphorical white flag. He'd even been genuine about it. It isn't as though he's asking to be best friends. Still, though, Potter turns him away with a frown and eyes like steel, and Draco feels a sick lurch in his chest, in what feels like the core where his heart and magic meet.

He looks down, unable to meet Potter's eyes, trying to figure out what to say. It's at this moment when he realizes that there is a glossy red thread tied around his right pinky finger. He follows it with a growing sense of nausea only to find that the other end is tied to Potter's finger, turning grey and dead the closer it gets to his hand.

He stares, blank-faced. This moment was supposed to be like a fairy-tale, where Draco and his soulmate reconnect and then their soulbond snaps into place like fate. He has never even imagined that his moment of connection would be broken with an immediate rejection. The strange, sick feeling he'd gotten – it had been the bond.

He can feel it, just like he'd always been told he would. He can also feel where it's severed, cut at the wick.

Potter looks down, appears to see nothing amiss, and then narrows his eyes like he thinks Draco's up to something. It occurs to him that Potter has no idea. He can't see the string, and doesn't have the faintest inkling that he is ensuring Draco a slow, agonizing death by rejecting their bond.

Draco could say something. Should, even, for his own health; Potter has that notorious savior complex of his, doesn't he? He'd take it back, if it meant saving Draco's life. They could be friends, keep the bond platonic, and sustain it just enough to keep Draco alive.

The thing about that is that Draco will know for the rest of his days that given the choice, his soulmate wouldn't have chosen him. His one saving grace – the one thing that mattered enough for him to keep going, to keep bettering himself – would be a lie.

He knows that Potter, the one rejecting him and their bond, who doesn't even know... Potter will never feel a thing. He'll never know why. Draco will wither, but the bond that was broken before it could even touch Potter won't affect him.

It's rare, that Bonds are left one-sided like this. It takes a sharp, immediate rejection to break a bond before it's fully formed. If he leaves it like this now, it will stay broken and Potter will never know what he's done. Draco is forever changed, and will spend the rest of his days seeing Potter in this strange new light, knowing they could be perfect for one another, and Potter... will not.