Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I will only say it once. That right goes to J.K. Rowling.

Title: Paging Doctor Malloy aka Running from You

Full Summary: After a single night of passion the Final Battle erupts and Harry saves Draco's life, at the expense of his own and Voldemort's. Now, almost a full decade later, Aurors Malfoy and Granger are sent to investigate a medical mystery where muggleborn patients die from unknown causes in the most painful of ways. They're teamed up with the leading doctor, Harvey Malloy, and the past quickly becomes a little bit closer to the present. Mpreg. DMHP FDHG

Notes: This story will almost be completely from Draco's point of view until later on, occasionally Hermione's or someone elses. Not DH compliant.

Prologue

Draco panted heavily as the battle waged around him. He didn't know what he was doing out here. His instincts told him to run and hide, to disappear like many of his friends had done the moment that they could. Why did he have to be an idiot and run into battle like the Gryffindor his lover was?

Risking his life was not supposed to be his job dammit!

Still, Draco only swore under his breath as he dodged under a curse, shooting one off in retaliation. His conspicuous blond hair was hidden under a glamor that Granger had used right before he had ran off to protect the precious Boy-Who-Lived.

Damn him and his unSlytherin ideals.

Ones like falling for jade green eyes and messy raven hair. If only he hadn't acted like a prat, get himself into a fight with him, land detention with him, and actually talk to Harry bloody Potter.

Draco tried hard not to think as a sickly green spell missed him by inches. Thinking would lead to panicking, and if he was going to survive this moderately unscathed he had to hold the panic at bay. Even if all he wanted to do was hide under a rock and curl into a ball.

He was going to have a serious discussion with the so called Saviour once both of them were out of here.

A spell hurled into his side and he felt the glamor fade away as it spilled down his sides in cool rivers. He flipped the hood of his cloak up and thanked Merlin for considerate boyfriends. Now, if only he could find said boyfriend and make sure that he made it out of this skirmish not too badly harmed.

He wanted a repeat of last night. He wanted several repeats of last night.

Draco ducked behind a tree and shot out hexes and curses as the memory rolled through him.

Ever since the school year had ended, Harry had been sleeping in his Head Boy dorm with him. The tower had been overrun by people wanting to coddle him, so he said, and he wanted Draco's snarky attitude to make sure his head didn't get too large.

Draco willingly complied with his year long boyfriend and so, for the first time ever, they had slept in the same bed, but never did anything, much to Draco's growing ire. He waited patiently though, and his efforts had finally paid off. Harry had woken up from a vision from Voldemort and, of course, Draco comforted him.

"He's going to attack tomorrow." Harry had said. Even now, the words seemed unreal to Draco. Yet here he was, fighting. He shot off another curse and smirked as a Death Eater fell.

They had started to kiss, but the moment things started to get too far, Draco had pulled back, trying to stop, but Harry wouldn't let him. So he didn't and even now the recollections of last nights passion made his knees grow weak.

That led him back to where he was now, looking for his errant Gryffindor before the raven haired teen could get himself killed. Things weren't looking too good though. Voldemort had finally joined the fray, only a few feet from Draco.

"What do we have here?" The voice rolled down his back and Draco forced himself to straighten, holding his wand as steady as he could, and looked the Dark Lord in the eye as he responded with as much hate as possible.

"Your downfall." He spat out. Voldemort only frowned.

"I know that voice. A Malfoy. You must be the little Malfoy that turned his back." Draco gulped as the Dark Lord smirked and started to draw his wand, his pale fingers scraping the metal of the phoenix ring that Harry had given him for Christmas.

He was going to die, he was going to die and never propose to Harry or raise any children that they might have. Yet the only thing he might possibly have regretted was topping last night.

Draco Malfoy raised his hand in a futile attempt to stop the dark green spell headed his way, ring glinting in the odd light and glowing eerily.

His world erupted into light and he heard one last thing before the light was replaced with darkness and oblivion.

"Don't touch Draco!"

Two Weeks Later

He blinked slowly, the lights nearly blinding him as he struggled to sit up. A croak left his throat and suddenly there was a gentle pressure on his arm and chest, pushing him against the headboard of the bed. The lights dimmed and he finally opened his eyes, only to see a distraught Granger handing him a glass of water with one shaky hand.

"Thanks." He said once his throat was soothed enough to speak.

"Oh Draco! I'm so sorry!" The glass fell from his hand and shattered on the floor of the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts.

"Harry-" He couldn't speak, his chest was too tight.

"And Ron. Something happened, I don't know what. Harry, he, Harry protected you. Voldemort was casting the Killing Curse at you and the whole field erupted with light. Once it was gone it was only you and Voldemort laying on the ground, Harry was gone." She ended in a strangled sob as she reached forward and wrapped him in her arms.

"He's...he's dead."

"I'm so sorry Draco, but they couldn't even find the body." She sobbed once more, not moving as Draco remained still.

"Weasley?" He asked hoarsely and she finally pulled back and sat back in her chair.

"He's being buried tomorrow. They want you to attend."

Draco could only nod numbly as she handed him a potion. He was sleeping peacefully again within minutes.

The funeral of Ronald Weasley was a grim affair. He was hailed as a war hero and martyr, Draco couldn't even bring himself to sneer at the reduced number of redheads. Bill had died, leaving his new wife desolate and grief stricken. So it was no surprise to Draco when he found himself sitting between the two later on.

"What are we going to do now?" Hermione spoke quietly, holding a picture of Ron from when they were younger. Draco didn't even have the strength to call them by their last names in his head anymore.

"I will most likely be returning to France." Fleur spoke in her accented voice, holding strong under the grief.

"Oh, don't do that! Stay here with us!" Draco only nodded slightly in agreement.

"Oh, I do not know, 'ermione. You two 'ave your own futures to plan."

"Fleur, stay with us. We can get a flat together. Please?" This time the pleading was directed at both of them. Draco looked at and nodded a bit more firmly. Her eyes were shining with tears that she had not yet allowed to fall and Draco noticed that the same was true for the French half-veela.

A burning determination stirred in the pit of his stomach.

"But you both 'ave your own lives. I can not intrude." Fleur's arguments were slowly dieing and it was apparent to both of them.

"Don't worry, Fleur. I'm sure I could use your help to finish Auror training." Draco smirked as he gently slid his fingers across the ring.

"Me too." Hermione nodded beside him and he grinned at her.

"Auror training?" He questioned, she nodded and a flush filled her cheeks.

"Ron always wanted to be one. I want to do it for him. Isn't that the only reason that your going into it? Because Harry wanted to?"

"Yes." The determination had found it's outlet.

He was going to destroy the remaining Death Eaters that supported Voldemort's ideas.

He was going to live enough for the both of them.

And he would only ever love Harry James Potter.

Paging Doctor Malloy

Too bad I couldn't make the prologue longer. But hey, I wrote it in like two hours. Seriously, I did, editing included.

Review please!

Midnight Out.