Disclaimer:
Anything you recognise from the HP universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and others who have bought the rights to meddle with her toys. Anything that's not created by J.K. is mine, unless stated otherwise. I'm just playing around here, not making money, so please don't sue.

Author's note:
This is a birthday fic for frayach . Warnings for explicit sex, boy on boy action and no beta, since this was written on really short notice. Please point out any mistakes you see (and there's bound to be many).

Summary:
Draco has been kidnapped, Auror Harry to the rescue...

Lost and Found

Harry Potter is sneaking stealthily through the corridor of a rickety house that lies in a remote area of Scotland. He's crouched, keeping his right shoulder against the wall and his wand in front of him, ready to cast a curse at the first person he encounters. His entire body's wired, every muscle ready to react instantly to any possible threat, his ears straining to listen for any signs of oncoming danger, eyes squinting in the semi-darkness that surrounds him, feet making hardly any sound at all as he cautiously moves toward the door at the end of the hallway.

Dust particles dance through the parts of the corridor that are actually lit, telling Harry which way the air moves and with that were possible escape routes are likely to be. But it isn't the time to concentrate on escape yet. He needs to get his charge first. Harry stills at a sound erupting from the room at the end of the corridor. A scraping sound, followed by a muffled thud. Countless scenarios that fit those sounds race across Harry's mind, but he pushes them away resolutely. He can't get distracted.

Harry has experience in freeing wizards and witches from Death Eaters, but this charge is important. Well, they are all important of course, but the person on the other side of the door is not just another wizard or witch Harry has to save. This mission's personal and he'd be dammed if he fails.

One of the half-rotten floorboards creaks loudly under his left foot and Harry freezes, pressed against the wall and holding his breath. He stands there for several minutes listening intently to the moaning and scratching sounds the old house is emitting, searching for anything foreign to hit his ears, but nothing comes and after several more minutes Harry resumes his movement towards the door.

When he feels he's close enough to detect, but not so close as to be detected, Harry starts the slow process of searching for wards around the door, the floor in front of it and even the hallway in its vicinity. He has done the same with the front door he came through, the stairs he climbed to the second floor and the hallway he has just crept along. Harry knows it's necessary but it's also agonizingly time consuming and he needs to hurry. He takes a minute to check his watch and almost curses out loud at the amount of time he has used. It has been over an hour.

When he finally detects the wards on the door and has dissembled them – they are quite weak – Harry takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, calming himself, concentrating at the task at hand. He has found – to his surprise – that the door isn't locked and that, combined with the lack of strength in the wards sets Harry on edge. It has trap written all over it, but there's no way he's leaving now. He's not leaving his charge alone in that room with Death Eaters doing who knows what to him, not now that he's so close. So he takes another deep breath, reaches for the doorknob and bursts into the room.

The Death Eater standing closest to the door is petrified before he can even fully turn around. Harry dodges to the right to avoid a curse aimed at his head and takes out the Death Eater that has thrown it while falling to the floor. He slumps were he stood, next to the small window. Harry lands on his shoulder, rolls, and comes to a halt on his right knee, his left foot on the ground slightly behind him, ready to launch him anywhere needed. As he throws a curse at the Death Eater standing on the other side of the window it registers in the back of his mind that someone has called out his name. The Death Eater drops and Harry crawls forward to hide behind the double sized bed that's standing in the middle of the room. He hears his name again and risks a peek over the covers. He's met with terrified grey eyes and a wand pointed at the head they belong to.

"Show yourself, Potter, or Malfoy here doesn't get to see you, ever again", says a cold voice that Harry doesn't recognize, but which he guesses belongs to the same person that's holding the wand against Draco's head. He curses under his breath and slowly rises from his cover. Those same terrified eyes face him again, but there's also something else shining in them: gratefulness maybe and definitely defiance. So at least the fight hasn't completely gone out of Draco Malfoy just yet.

"Good, now drop your wand", the Death Eater commands. A quick glance around the room tells Harry that he's the only one left standing. Three out of four within what can't have been more than thirty seconds, Harry knows it's good, but all he seems to be able to focus on is that it hasn't been good enough. Draco's still a Death Eater hostage and what's worse; he's going to become one himself in mere moments.

"Don't, hex him into next week and get it over with", Draco tells him. His voice is a little hoarse, whether from screaming or disuse Harry doesn't know, but it's strong, certain and Harry has no doubt Draco will gladly die, just so Harry can get out. But Harry can't let Draco die; he's far too important and so he carefully places his wand on the floor. The Death Eater across from the bed Accios it and then points it at Harry.

"Well, well, looks like I caught me a traitor and the Boy Who Lived. Now ain't that grand", the Death Eater chuckles. His moment of gloating gives Harry the opportunity to glance at Draco. A small nod from the man lying on the bed with his arms tied to the headboard signalling to Harry that he's ready.

"Now!" Harry shouts and dives over the bed to tackle the man. Draco Accios both Harry's and the Death Eater's wands in rapid succession and spells himself free, while Harry wrestles the Death Eater to the ground. He takes a blow across the jaw and an elbow in the stomach before he can slam the man's head into the ground and push his forearm on the Death Eaters throat, rendering him quite unable to move. By that time Draco has handed him his wand and is pointing the other at the man's head.

"Give me one good reason not to kill you", he hisses, before pulling of the Death Eater's mask. Harry's sure he's seen the man at Hogwarts, but he can't remember the name. Apparently, Draco can.

"Bletchley? Miles Bletchley?" Draco sounds surprised. Harry digs into his memory, but all he can come up with is that this man seems related to Quidditch somehow.

"Surprised Draco? You really shouldn't be, after all, I was under your fathers care from the moment I first stepped into Hogwarts," Bletchley hisses. Draco scrunches up his nose and bares his teeth.

"I was under my fathers care much earlier and you don't see me running around with a mask on, now do you? Having been pressured by my father is no excusing for becoming a Death Eater Bletchley, you're getting the kiss," he tells the man lying at his feet. His tone is stained with barely concealed anger and his wand hand trembles slightly. But he doesn't say anything else, just rises, opens the window and sends a jet of blue sparks into the air.

The room is filled with Order Members within minutes, escorting Bletchley out of the house and into Azkaban, bustling about for evidence and arresting the other Death Eaters. Harry and Draco sit down on the bed in what seems to be the eye of this hurricane. They watch detachedly at the buzz going on around them, not paying attention, trying to once again get in sync with the world.

"Hey, are you two alright?" a woman with short spiky hair and a funny nose asks as she kneels down in front of them. They both smile down upon Tonks. Draco nods at her.

"Yeah, just a bit … you know," Harry gestures vaguely with his hand, but Tonks nods. All Aurors know about the after mission effect, they've all experienced it. Remus has once explained it to Harry as the result of inhumane tension and concentration on a task suddenly disappearing because it is done, leaving a sense of emptiness behind. A form of self-protection from the mind, taking a moment to rest after such a demanding task, before dealing with the consequences. The dealing, Harry knows, is different for everyone. Some sleep like a log, others need to talk, Harry usually feels wired and giddy as if his fingers have been plugged into lightning. Getting rid of that exes energy is usually done by having sex or flying like a madman, depending on the availability of one Draco Malfoy.

Said man is currently talking to one of the Aurors that has taken away Bletchley, answering questions about what happened. After a few minutes the man claps Draco on the shoulder lightly and turns to address Harry as well.

"You two should go home. We're going to be busy here for a while and you're tired. The questions and debriefing can wait until morning," he tells them. Neither Draco nor Harry protests and both get up to walk downstairs and onto the fields surrounding the house, the same fields that housed about twenty Order Members only hours ago.

"You up to apparating?" Harry asks the man walking next to him kindly. Draco nods and reaches for Harry's hand. They disappear with identical cracks and reappear in their living room almost instantly. That's where everything that has happened finally catches up to Draco. He sags down onto the large couch that stands in the centre of the room and pushes his hands between his knees as he starts shaking all over. Harry drops down next to him and wordlessly envelopes the shaking boy into his arms, fighting the sickening wave of guilt that courses through his stomach. He knows it isn't rational, but it's because of Draco's closeness to him that the Death Eaters have taken him, not because he's a traitor. If that had been the case, they would've killed him instantly, Harry's sure. At that thought a cold feeling of dread sweeps across Harry, making him grab hold of Draco more tightly.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he whispers in Draco's ear, smoothing down the blond locks with one hand. The shaking has subsided a little and Draco pushes away from Harry slightly, to look into his eyes. He smiles softly.

"I'm glad you came," he says. Harry almost bristles.

"Of course I did!" but there's no harshness in his voice as he has already seen the serious expression on Draco's face, telling him there has never been any doubt Harry would do all he could to get him back.

"You were just in time, they were going to hand me over to Voldemort tomorrow", Draco says and shudders as realization of how close a call this had been hits him. Harry tightens his grip again and buries his nose in the crook of Draco's neck.

"I know, it's why we decided to get you out tonight," he answers, deeply inhaling the scent of Draco's hair. It isn't particularly nice, since his boyfriend has been trapped in a dirty old house for over a week, but it's still unmistakably Draco's scent and that's all Harry needs. He pulls back in pain and gingerly touches his cheek where he pressed it into Draco's.

"Ouch," he whispers, examining the spot where Bletchley hit him with his fingers. Draco takes his hands away gently and eyes the quickly reddening skin critically.

"You need to heal that," he tells Harry and searched around for his wand. He didn't have it on him when he got kidnapped and he really has no idea where it is.

"It's under you pillow, where you always keep it," Harry grins. Draco's eyes go wide for a moment, then turn into a sparkling kind of bluish grey.

"You kept my wand under my pillow while I was … away?" he wants to know. Harry swallows against the lump in his throat, the irrational fear he has felt for the past few nights momentarily coming back to him. He shakes his head.

"I held onto it. It felt like you, vibrated and I imagined that as long as it did that, you weren't dead at least," Harry's confesses, his voice a hoarse kind of whisper, as if there has been so much emotion pushed into it, there's no room for much else.

Draco cups Harry's head with one hand, using the other to push himself slightly off the couch as he reaches over and kisses Harry deeply.

Harry welcomes the touch, the intimacy in which he can say so much more than with mere words. He pours everything he feels into the kiss and then listens to what Draco has to say. It moves Harry profoundly to feel Draco's fear, his longing to be returned to Harry, his resolve to be strong, and his thankfulness for being rescued.

"Did they hurt you?" Harry wants to know, breaking the kiss. He knows, he knew the moment he spotted Draco on that bed in that rickety house that he was all right, but he still needs to hear it from him himself.

"No," Draco responds: "I'm fine, just tired." He resumes kissing Harry languidly, reacquainting himself with the taste and feel of Harry's tongue, his lips on his. And Harry reacts, leaning back into the couch and pulling Draco on top of him, feeling the giddiness of exes post mission energy starting to build in his chest. Draco pushes his hips down onto Harry's with purpose and the giddiness transforms into something different.

"Let's go to bed," Harry says as he comes up for air. He's quite breathless already, but he wants Draco to be comfortable tonight. Draco nods and gets up to make his way over to their bedroom. He stops halfway there, Accios his wand and heals Harry's busted cheek. He plants a kiss on the newly grown skin for good measure. Harry laughs at that and scoops his boyfriend up in his arms.

"Hey, I'm not a bloody girl, I can walk for myself!" Draco calls and smacks Harry over the head. But it's said laughing and the smack is playful. Harry laughs, races the last bit of the way to the bedroom and throws Draco onto the bed. His boyfriend squeaks quite girly before landing with an 'Oomph!'. He barely has time to roll over before Harry, now without his shirt, dives after him. It causes him to land with his face down in the pillow, the effect of his incredulous 'Hey!' completely ruined, because it's muffled by the fluffy fabric.

Draco wastes no time in jumping on top of Harry and attacking the darker mans back with a vengeance. He licks and kisses and bites occasionally and pretty soon the playful mood makes way for something much more serious. Harry writhes and moans, a slight sheen of sweat forming in the nape of his neck. Harry sweats easily and a lot and Draco loves it. He loves watching the droplets run down Harry's muscled back, loves licking them from his chest. Harry mews and makes to turn around so Draco lifts his weight slightly to give him some room. He doesn't hide the need to gulp for air as Harry's face comes into view, pupils so dilated his contact lenses have become invisible, mouth open and chin tilted up in invitation.

Draco has no intention of resisting and bends down to ravage Harry's mouth, drowning in the taste that's so undeniably Harry. He licks and sucks and lets his tongue dance inside Harry's mouth, while Harry moves his hands under Draco's shirt, riding it up his back, exposing light coloured skin and lean muscles.

He rakes his nails across Draco's back once, forcing the other boy to break the kiss so he's able to gasp. Harry takes the opportunity to remove the shirt entirely. Trousers and underwear follow soon after and a new and frenzied pace creeps into their lovemaking. The feel of skin on skin only serves to intensify Harry's need and he moans loudly as he bucks his hips against Draco's, rubbing their erections together in a desperate search for friction.

Draco gasps and arches his back in reaction. He moves his feet to the front and angles his hips upwards so Harry has a glorious few of what he is about to get, then takes two fingers in his mouth and pushes them past the tight ring of muscle that is waiting for Harry.

Harry's breath hitches and he turns his head to get a better view. His hands come up to Draco's hips, slightly holding him up, giving his fingers better access.

"God, Draco," Harry gasps, breathless as Draco starts rocking back and forth, impaling himself on his fingers over and over again. His breathing has become fast, erratic and just as Harry thinks he's going to go mad with desire, Draco grabs hold of his cock and squeezes gently. Harry gasps, then moans wantonly as Draco starts moving his hand in time with his hips, pumping Harry.

"Do you want me, Harry?" Draco asks. He's obviously fighting for control over his voice, but it wavers nonetheless. Harry locks eyes with the beautiful man staring down at him, opening his soul to him.

"More than anything in the world".

"Then take me, make me yours".

Harry turns their positions in no time, positioning himself in front of Draco's entrance, gently pushing and finding it welcoming him in. He watches as he slowly slides all the way into Draco, marvelling at how well their bodies fit together for a moment. All thought disappears once Draco moves though. His body moves of its own accord, slamming into Draco over and over again, alternating the pace from shallow fast thrusts to long deep ones and everything in between. Harry registers Draco's grunts and moans, fuelling the fire that is burning inside him, knowing it will always burn for the man beneath him, revelling in it.

Draco watches as Harry pushes himself up on his arms to get a better angle. He watches the muscles of Harry's arms and chest working, rolling under his skin. Draco lets himself drown in the power that is Harry Potter, magically, but also physically. He watches sweat running down Harry's body towards where it meets his, he feels the power in Harry's muscles as he slams into him over and over again, that same power that saved him today. He feels the magical energy around them build as Harry grows nearer to his climax and loses control. He welcomes it, as it envelops him in a protective cocoon. But what Draco feels most, what finally sends him over the edge, is the overwhelming, overpowering feeling of love that explodes between them.

Harry falls on top of him when they are spent and he's heavy, but not an unpleasurable weight. It feels right, being pushed into the mattress by this man, holding him as they wait for their heartbeats to slow down and the control over their muscles to return. It feels like it was meant to be.

Harry feels Draco turn with him and cuddle against his side as he rolls off his lover to lie on his back. He slides and arm around Draco and pulls him close for a moment.

"I love you," he murmurs, sinking deeper into the mattress.

"Forever," Draco answers.