A/N: Hey everyone, another vicious plot bunny bites the dust. I've been submerged in HarryxDraco fanfiction for a while and I figured I might as well write one. It stalled in the middle and I had to write something else just to get back into the swing of it but I'm still not quite so sure about it. It could have been longer with more plot development but to be honest, I just didn't feel like droning on and on. At any rate I tried. Not the best and really, sickly sweet at the end but, eh. Warnings for lemon, sex between two men, a touch of angst and teeth aching fluff.
Constellations
The call had come in the middle of the afternoon on his day off in the form of a familiar Partonus, barking at him in an expressionless voice. There had been some kind of terrorist attack in another section of London that required his immediate aid. That Ron had sent the charm to him and had not Flooed meant whatever had happened was really bad. Harry had thrown on a questionably clean set of his Auror robes and Disapperated before the big, silvery dog even had time to fully dissipate.
What he found when arriving on location a moment later was almost worse than if he'd learned Lord Voldemort was still alive…
**
He and Ron had been working for the Ministry as Aurors for nearly two years, quickly climbing to the top and earning themselves credible reputations. Of course, being who he was, Harry already had a nearly golden reputation as a result of killing Voldemort and ending the war. A war that had changed them all drastically until he often wondered what had happened to the people they once were. He himself hated the image he had been plastered with. It wasn't like he had been given a choice for being the so called "hero" during a time of terror and darkness. He had been brainwashed and manipulated by powerful wizards ever since he had stepped foot in the halls of Hogwarts at the tender age of eleven and in the end, after having watched countless dozens of his friends and allies succumb to the shadows, it was either kill or be killed.
At any rate, he had never felt like any kind of hero.
Of course, it was expected that those who had been left standing would never be the same. Yet if there was something he hated more than anything else, it was being given false labels he knew he didn't deserve. The real heroes were the ones that had their lives claimed while fighting with everything they had in an effort to expel the madness that had taken hold of the world. Every single one of their names were etched onto his heart, constant reminders of why he got up in the morning and continued to battle for that ever elusive concept of peace.
And so many names there were; Sirius still stung to this day, and Dumbledor and Lupin. Hagrid had gone with quite a bang as did several of the other Hogwarts teachers and he had been fighting alongside Seamus and Dean when they were caught up in a rather nasty hex meant for Harry. Seamus would spend the rest of his life in St. Mungo's and Dean…well, at least his little plot had a nice view. Tonks had followed her husband a month later, leaving her twenty month old son, Teddy, an orphan. It was the loss suffered by the Weasly family, however, that still pained him the most, for he worked with the aftermath of it every day. Ginny had been first, leaping in front of a spell meant for Hermione during the bloody battle that had taken place at Hogwarts a year after its headmaster had plunged from a tower to his death. Ginny, the girl he was going to marry once the whole bloody war was finished. Arthur had also perished in that battle, leaving behind a distraught Molly and his sons. Yet if that wasn't enough, Fred and George had been found, laying side by side in their shop a few months later, no doubt killed for their blatant disregard and distain for the evil that was being spread by Voldemort's Death Eaters. Their deaths had hurt almost as much as Ginny's had for Harry had become good friends with them, even while they had become invaluable assets for the Order. There had been others too, each one another precious life lost. So many names, so much loss and the fear that gripped the entire country had become numbing.
It was around then he had noticed the changes; changes in himself but mostly in those of the friends he had left. Neville had become a hardened soldier, nothing left of his nervous, sweet self. Luna was as spacey as ever but many times he would wonder if that had changed to madness because she had lost her smiles and her innocence, leaving nothing to balance the strange mind beneath it all. It was his two closest friends, however, he despaired for the most. They had changed so much, he had barely even recognized them. Hermione had become cold, calculating, seeing plots in everything and while her analytical brilliance had unearthed more than one Death Eater plan and saved their lives countless times, it was almost like she had lost her soul to it. Her constant bickering with Ron had stopped, turning to chilly indifference. Harry supposed that wasn't all her fault. Ron, his best friend and the person had had counted on the most to keep him sane, had turned into a downright bastard.
Harry could remember the exact hour it had struck him, walking into the quiet kitchen at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place to find them all there, gathered at the table looking like strangers. Molly had made an attempt at decorating for the Holidays but there was less cheer in that kitchen than there would have been in hell. It was then that he knew, this was hell, their own person hell masterfully created by hate and fear and grief. Those were no longer his friends but husks left behind from living in violence.
Harry had gone out that very night and within the week, Voldemort was destroyed.
In his naivety, he had thought that by killing the person that was responsible for so much pain it would be over.
How wrong he was. Stupidly, utterly, tragically wrong.
**
For a long moment, all he was able to do was stare, horrified as he took in the tragedy that had befallen.
At first he wasn't even sure what he was looking at, though of a surety it was Dark Magic. He could feel the tainted edge of it roiling through the street, threatening to swallow everything and everyone that came close. There were some people milling about in confusion but he could see the unmistakable red robes, similar to his own of Aurors already on the scene, trying to contain the spell that had engulfed the entirety of two blocks in a wizarding section of Eastern London. Harry swallowed thickly before pushing forward so he could get a better look.
A great dome had been erected over the residences, shimmering slightly in the light, reminding him of what oil looks like in the sun. It seemed to move on its own, undulating in sickly waves. But it was what the dome contained that made his mouth go dry and his stomach tie in little knots of disgusted unease. Green flames engulfed the buildings, raging hungrily, licking at what was left of the buildings' blackened structures. Not only did the fire consume all of the normal flammable materials but non-flammable as well, sinking into stone and metal alike. The magical dome did nothing, however, to stop the thick, black smoke from leaving in great, oily billows, obscuring the bright sunlight.
Harry couldn't tell how long the blaze had been going, though there were enough wizards on sight to give tell him it had been at least twenty minutes. Pulling his wand from the wrist holster all Aurors were required to wear, he scanned the crowd for his partner, deciding it would probably be best to ask someone else what the hell was going on before he started hurling spells. Who knew what else that shimmering barrier could do? Emerald eyes found the familiar shock of red hair quickly enough, in a group of four or five other red-robed men that were vaguely familiar. It looked as if the orders were coming from one of the older men and judging by the look on the Weasley's face, Ron was not happy. The dark haired man groaned inwardly. His partner's snits were never fun and he hurried over, hoping his presence would help to dispel his friend's ire.
"…let the damn things burn!" Ron was snarling in a low voice, knuckles white where they clutched his wand, "The less there are of these places, the better!" Harry pulled to a stop just outside the circle, hoping desperately he had heard wrong. A tired looking older man with dark blue eyes locked on his own and he saw a visible relief wash over his face.
"Potter! How kind of you to show up. Get your partner in hand," Blinking, he opened to his mouth to ask what was going on only to snatch at Ron's robes when he surged forward, an ugly twisting to his features.
"You bastard, you know I'm right! These are Death Eater houses!" Harry yanked his friend back, pulling him away from the rest of the others who were watching him in varying degrees of agreement and annoyance. A hand almost struck him in the face as the red haired Auror struggled, curses flying through the air. Everyone knew of Ron's famous temper and the dark haired man wondered again why he still put up with it when he had tired of his friend's daily explosions and vile temper a long time ago.
"Ron, you idiot, knock it off!" he growled, pulling the taller man far enough away that the other Aurors wouldn't have to worry about flying insults distracting them. He noticed absently, as he watched the red-head try to pull himself together, than no one was approaching the strange dome with its leaping flames. By then just about everything was gone within the protective circle, reduced to black rubble. Yet still the fire burned, as if sustained by an outside source. The thought gave him chills. He hoped vainly that anyone who had been caught up inside of them had at least died quickly. The thought of people suffering always made his chest ache. Ron fumed a little bit before throwing his hands in the air. Hoping his partner had cooled somewhat, he let the bigger man go, "What's going on?" he asked in a low voice, hearing orders being given out behind him. The red head's blue eyes were tight at the corners.
"The call came in twenty five minutes ago, about some houses that were set on fire with magic that couldn't be put out. Simple enough, right? Except that they never told us whose houses they were and before he realized it, three good men are sucked into that…that…THING. I watched them die and they were only going to save those scum!" Ron spat angrily, glaring at the hissing flames. Harry frowned, gnawing on his bottom lip. He didn't know just who the houses belonged to, but whoever it was, his partner wanted nothing to do with salvaging them.
"Who do the houses belong to?" he asked quietly, heart aching, wondering if maybe they had kept trying rather than giving up if any lives could have been saved. If only he had been called sooner. The man next to him growled, clenching his fist when two Aurors stepped up to the dome some distance away and cast a complicated joint spell, the web of magic settling over the dome. He held his breath but besides a subtle buckling of the protective bubble, there was no change.
"Death Eaters, that's who!" Ron snapped, grumbling about a waste of good magic and time. The dark haired Auror clenched his teeth. There were no Death Eaters left in England. There were other evils but whatever followers of Voldemort that had been left had fled the country; most of their assignments where typically on the mainland, now. Another spell was cast then another, none of them making a bit of difference. Harry took a deep breath and stepped forward, brushing his partner and his angry words off. He couldn't just stand there and do nothing, regardless of what Ron might say.
His first spell was a diagnostic, probing at the strange bubble, hunting for weaknesses while trying to determine the best way to dispel it. It was tricky, though, because he couldn't be sure the flames wouldn't spread if the wall holding them back was dropped. And he couldn't get past the oily surface of the dome to figure that out. People still milled about, their worried voices a distant murmur. At all costs, everyone needed to remain safe but his main concern was that it looked like the flames weren't going to stop burning, already beginning to burrow into the Earth. They needed to be stopped. He shouted a few questions to the lead Auror, a man he vaguely recalled went by the name of Jones. Perhaps a five man web of penetration would allow them to…
But he never finished that thought because there was a sudden commotion off to his left, someone shouting loudly and trying to break through to get at the fire, his struggles barely able to be contained by three powerful Aurors. Concentration broken, Harry glanced to the side and gasped, eyes wide.
It was Draco Malfoy, putting up a fight worthy of four men and screaming.
Shocked, for he had not seen the other man since the end of the war and his trial, the dark haired Auror wondered what the former Slytherin could possibly be doing there, dressed in fancy robes and shouting desperate obscenities at the men holding him back. Then he caught what the man was saying,
"…that's my house!! My mother!! MY MOTHER IS IN THERE!! LET ME GO!! MOTHER!!!!" Harry's heart twisted painfully and before he could think, he was surging forward, catching how the tears streamed over the pale features, wishing, praying, hoping Mrs. Malfoy had managed to get out in time. He knew their story, their innocence and with the tragedy that had struck their family, it was no wonder the blonde was putting up such resistance. Yet before he could get there, someone else blocked his way, someone with fiery red hair and a hate-constructed mask pulled low over his face. A fist flew through the air and Draco collapsed to the ground with a startled cry. Anger prickled along Harry's skin.
"Oi! What the fuck are you doing!?" he pushed Ron out of the way and was in time to catch the irate blonde before he launched himself into the hungry green flames. Incoherent pleas were shouted in his ear as he wrestled with the Slytherin, glaring at his partner over Draco's shoulder.
"Let me go! Please!" even as Ron and several other Auror's growled at Harry for stepping in. Taking a deep breath, he concentrated and snarled a single word in Parseltongue, a pulse of magic catching everyone off-guard. At least it shut them all up, the blonde sagging in his arms, silvery eyes locked on the fire with an expression of despair. The look he was getting from several of his co-workers was fit to flay skin. His red headed partner stepped forward and he tightened his grip he had on Draco's arms, willing the other man not to do anything rash.
"What are you doing, defending this scum, Harry?" Ron's voice was dangerous and low, but Harry just lifted his chin, matching the look with one of his own. Yet before he could say anything, the blonde grabbed the dark haired man by the front of his robes, shaking him, drawing the wide, green eyes.
"Why isn't anyone doing anything?" he practically sobbed, the expression on his face desperate, "Why haven't you put it out yet?!" caught in the grief and the pain, Harry let the man shake him, not hearing the hisses of indignant anger coming from the Weasley and a few of the other wizards gathered around them.
"We've been working—HEY!" shocked, he was unable to catch the blonde when someone hit him with a stunning spell, the slender finger dropping to the pavement like a stone. Choking, he whirled on Ron who glared back, clenching his fists in frustration, "What are you doing?" magic was beginning to roil off of him, something that had gotten worse as he'd gotten older rather than better and most of the time people tried to stay out of his way when it happened. Not this time. Now he felt outnumbered and vulnerable in his fury.
"Please, Harry, I did you a favor. Besides, he's probably behind this whole thing. We should take him back to the ministry and question him," for a moment he didn't even know what to say, trying to grasp the level of hate that was being harbored within this man that had once been his friend. There were a few muttered agreements and those of the Aurors that did not outwardly show such inclinations remained blank and silent.
"Why the hell would he be behind it? It's his fucking house! His mother, for Merlin's sake!" he gestured to the green flames, hoping that for once reason would reach through the thick barrier that had grown between them. Ron just snorted.
"How the hell am I supposed to know how this slimy bastard's mind works? He should be arrested. If he had gone to Azkaban in the first place, this probably wouldn't have happened," Harry had a moment to gape at his partner in disbelief before two men stepped forward, both of whom he had never met before and bound the unconscious Draco with a wave of their wands, readying to take him in. Desperate, he rushed forward, wand out and ready to drop the spells, whether to let the blonde go or attack, he wasn't sure anymore.
"Have you all gone mad?" he cried, lifting his wand only to be thwarted by a heavy hand on his shoulder. He glared up into baleful blue eyes, "You're out of your mind, you know that? He's innocent! Let him go!" but it was too late for Draco had already been Disapperated away. Feeling out of control and out maneuvered, he looked to the older man who was the lead on this assignment and met a cool, dispassionate stare. Even now, it seemed, there had been no love lost for the onetime Slytherin, that even in the face of his grief, he would be granted no sympathy. Still, Harry had to try, "Sir, please, you can't let this just happen," but the man just sighed and waved him off, already turning back to the green flames.
"That's enough, Potter. McCain! Gregory! Let's see if we can lift it!" already dismissed, Harry gritted his teeth, frustration nearly making him sick. He turned to Ron who was still watching him with narrowed eyes and stepped up to the other man, drawing himself up to his full height. As of this moment, he no longer considered this man his friend.
"I don't know who you think you are, but I'm not going to let you get away with this," he growled, noting how those eyes darkened in anger before he too Disapperated from the scene.
**
To say that Kingsley Shacklebolt was startled when Harry slammed into his office fifteen minutes later was an understatement. He was pretty sure the man jumped almost three feet into the air before he whirled towards the door, quite a feat considering his size. It might have been funny, something for him to tease the older man about but his primary focus was where Draco had been taken and the humor was fleeting. Shacklebolt, being Head Auror and one of the few people left the dark haired wizard actually considered a friend, seemed to sense his mood because his face immediately pulled into a frown.
"Kingsley, I need your help," he all but gasped, panting from having run through the better part of the Ministry building in his haste, "I need to know where they've taken Draco Malfoy," at the name, the dark eyes narrowed, the older man looking at him in confusion.
"Malfoy?" the deep voice was a bit incredulous, "Why would Malfoy be here?" so he didn't know. Harry sagged against the doorframe, still burning with anger, feeling time tugging at him. He had to get to the former Slytherin before Veritaserum could be administered. Not that he was worried that the blond had anything to do with today's attack because he was absolutely certain he didn't. But he knew the people who would be questioning him would no doubt be out for blood and would drag every last little sin out committed during the war. Many of which only Harry and maybe one or two surviving Order members knew about, all committed in with the Dark brand but done for the better good.
"There was an attack on a few houses in London, all owned by pure-bloods thought to have some Dark connection during the war and his was one of them. He thought…he was there because his mother might have been inside," the older Auror's dark skin went slightly grey in horror and Harry was inclined to agree, "But a few of our finest," he spat the word, anger on the rise again, "decided that his presence there meant he had something to do with the attack," his mind hissed Ron's name but he wouldn't go pointing fingers, especially when it wouldn't do any good. Shacklebolt couldn't do anything about his red headed partner as there were too many other senior agents, not to mention the Minister himself, who agreed with the Weasley's views. It made Harry sick, thinking that these were the kind of people he worked with and would have quit many times over if not for the fact that he knew he did the most good right where he was. The Head Auror's expression had turned thunderous, wide nostrils flaring wider in anger.
"He was cleared of all Death Eater charges," the man positively snarled, snatching his wand from his desk and they both strode from his office, making for the lower rooms used for the more…unethical questionings, "Damn blind idiots, letting that cloud their judgment," Then they were striding purposefully through the halls, earning a few sideways stares from co-workers. People were always a little wary of Kingsley, giving him a wide berth, especially when he was wearing his intense out-to-rip-someone-a-new-one face like he was now. Even Harry knew to tread lightly when the man was upset. He was just glad that the older man was on his side when it came to this kind of thing.
Draco was being held in one of the lower interrogation rooms, used mainly for the more…experienced criminals. Whereas the normal rooms had more comfortable seating arrangements and a kinder atmosphere, these were just cold brick walls and metal chairs, complete with magical chains to hold the person in question in place. The dark haired wizard could feel his blood boiling, especially upon seeing the two guards that had been placed at the door, as if Draco was about to go postal any moment and blow them all to smithereens. Harry vaguely remembered their names as they were from a different department and was met with disapproving frowns when he stepped up to them with Shackelbolt at his side.
"I am here to release one Mr. Draco Malfoy from our custody," the older man's voice was iron but it seemed authority and his position held no sway here. Identical cold stares were returned, the older guard stepping forward with his wand clutched at his side and no intention of yielding.
"Sorry, but you'll have to take that up with the Minister. We are under strict orders not to let Malfoy go," the voice was flat and Harry's mouth fell open in disbelief. They had the Minister involved in this? Resentment flashed, making him irritable and uncomfortable in his own skin. It seemed hate had penetrated so far into some people's hearts they refused to see the truth for what it was. The only thing anyone seemed to care about was the faded mark on Draco's arm. One that he hadn't even been loyal to. Kingsley drew himself up to his full height, which was impressive in itself and lifted his chin.
"Very well. When I get back, be ready to release Mr. Malfoy," the man threw a look at Harry before he strode back down the dank hall. The cool gazes turned to him and he gritted his teeth, determined to get inside that room. The least he could do was make sure Draco wasn't alone. After all, the man may have just lost the last of his family.
"I would at least like to be admitted entrance," he said in his most bland tone, knowing if he made a big deal out of it, they would be less likely to grant him entrance. The man that had spoken to Kingsley shifted his stance and looked Harry over, as if letting the younger man know he was unimpressed with who he was and what he name meant.
"And just what would you be doing in there, Mr. Potter?" the man growled, earning a smirk from his partner, "As I recall, you were the one that made sure this scum got away scot-free even though he was a Death Eater. It's about time he gets what was coming to him," and he sneered, leering at the dark haired Auror as if Harry had never sacrificed everything to keep the whole world from crumbling apart and losing nearly everything in the process. Clenching his fists, fingertips itching to reach for his wand, he kept his face blank, not wanting to give these bigots the satisfaction of seeing him get ruffled.
"I made it very clear at the trial that was held for Dr—Malfoy that he worked as a spy within Lord Voldemort's ranks for me. We could not have won the war without the information he had access to," and it was true, every word and more. Draco had lost as much as everyone else in that war, maybe more. The man just continued to leer at him, eyes cold and uncaring.
"A Death Eater is still what he is. Besides, I have orders to keep him contained unless the Minister expressly says otherwise," he looked so pleased with himself, sharing a little chuckle with the other guard present, who looked to be all brawn and very few brains. Harry kept his own smirk off his face.
"Yes, but were you given orders not to allow anyone in?" ah, that seemed to do it, as the men both faltered, pleased looks sliding off their faces. The older one shifted and looked Harry up and down, eyes narrowing before letting out a frustrated huff of air through his nose.
"Fine. You can go see your little pet Death Eater but I'm afraid we'll have to hold your wand here," crap. Harry hated being without his wand but he thought of Draco, chained to one of those chairs and wordlessly pulled his wand from its hidden holster within his sleeve, handing it to the man. He was given one last glare, making it clear what they thought of their "savior" now, no doubt thinking how the mighty have fallen. It made no difference to him. He didn't care what other people thought of him and never had.
Thankfully, no one seemed to quite have the audacity to chain Draco to the chair which the blond currently sat slumped over in. There was no reaction when Harry stepped inside the uncomfortably cold room and the bright head remained bowed even when the door banged closed behind him, hair falling like a curtain over one of his shoulders. Gone was his anger, washed away in a flood of sympathy. No one deserved this, not even the worst of his enemies, of which the other man was far from. Steeling himself, he stepped closer, footsteps hollow on the stone floor. Yet before he got a chance to speak, the roughened voice broke the silence, very different from its normal silken tones.
"Have you found my mother yet?" silver threads of hope, barely detectable nearly broke his heart and he fought against the despair he could feel rolling off the blonde in thick, shadowy waves. Harry cleared his throat.
"Not that I know of but then I came straight here. There have been no reports yet," he wanted to add that there was still hope yet but he knew the former Slytherin would just accuse him of being patronizing. The silvery head lifted and he was nearly bawled over by the depth of emotion in those deep, grey eyes. Draco's lips twisted in a wry little smile that looked so achingly beautiful it nearly took his breath away. Harry suddenly found himself regretting not looking harder for this man during the two years since he had disappeared after his trial.
"I should have known it would be you," the blonde's voice was dry and cracked like he had been crying as he regarded the dark haired Auror standing a few feet away, "Always the hero, aren't you, Potter?" the words grated on him but what bothered him the most as the use of his last name. With a frustrated sigh, he raked his fingers through his unruly hair.
"Hardly. If I was, you would not be in here and people would not still hate so blindly," Draco remained silent after the ringing sound of his words, gaze sliding away from his own bright emerald one. Swallowing sudden anxiety, he took another step closer, "And why didn't you call me Harry? Have you forgotten what I had said?" When the grey eyes lifted to his own, they were dark with recognition and something he could not identify. It seems, then, that the blonde did not forget…
**
Harry stared down at the scroll in his hands, hardly believing what he was reading. This was it; the key to finally seeing this destruction of Voldemort and the end of this bloody war. The location and identity of the second to last Horcrux. He was already aware that the last one was himself. He re-read the words several times, though he had only needed to read them once to memorize it before setting it alight with a wordless spell. Then he looked up to find the source of the intel standing on the other side of the fireplace, watching him impassively.
"I trust that was all you needed, Potter," Malfoy's voice held no emotion, giving absolutely nothing away, as if doing what he had did not just endanger his own life but that of his father and mother as well. The only trace of worry could be found in the depths of his eyes, which glittered in the unsteady light of the fire. Harry nodded, brushing at a few specks of ash that had landed on his jeans.
"Yes, it is. Thank you," once, saying such to a person he had sworn off as his enemy would have made him choke. A lot of things had changed since Hogwarts, it seemed, the biggest of which was the tug against his heart every time he saw the blonde again. Malfoy nodded, looking somewhat relived.
"And with this you can assure the Dark Lord's demise?" Harry had to smile. He and Hermione were the only ones who knew who the last Horcrux was. The problem would be actually getting close enough to the remaining one and then Voldemort himself, which in itself was an almost hopeless challenge.
"I cannot ensure anything," he said softly, looking away from those shadowed eyes to the bright flames leaping behind the grate, wishing he could ensure a clean victory in which no one else would die and everyone would live happily ever after. Many times, he wasn't even sure what those words meant anymore, "But I think it would be best you and your family find someplace safe to hide now. Only three other people know about you here at the Order and I can't guarantee your safety," To which Malfoy laughed a short, bitter laugh.
"You make it sound positively easy, Potter," the blonde responded bitterly, "Have you any idea what kind of position I am in here? Speaking of," and he checked his watch, "I should be getting back. The Dark Lord is suspicious of himself, I think, at times," Harry hated the way he sounded so hopeless or the fact that he was right. Unable to stop himself, he took a step closer, feeling the warmth from the fire pressing against the side of his leg. Malfoy eyed him warily.
"I do know, which is why I would ask one last thing from you, before you go," his heart skipped, pulse picking up and palms becoming sweaty with nerves. He had been admiring Malfoy for months now, struck at first by his bravery and then by his more physical attributes. He still missed Ginny but he had noticed a while ago that the only time the edge seemed to dull was when he was with the blond, who had crossed his arms while waiting for Harry to say what he needed. The dark haired man took a deep breath, "Please, come through this alive," he met the surprised grey eyes with his own earnest gaze, seeing the shock flickering over the pale features, "Whatever happens, just stay alive," they stared at each other for a long moment, the Slytherin's eyes wide as Harry's heart slammed wildly within his chest. The way he had said those words, Harry had left no doubt as to what he had meant. Finally the blonde's lips quirked.
"I most certainly plan to, Potter," and as Malfoy turned away, Harry called after him,
"My name is Harry," The grey eyes were expressionless when the blonde paused to look at him over his shoulder, "We are not enemies anymore,"
"No. No we are not…Goodbye, Harry," His wide green eyes tracked the Slyerthin's exit and so intent was he on watching that confident walk that he missed the whispered spell until something fleeting and warm pressed against his cheek, like someone had blown him a kiss.
That was the last time he had seen the blonde until his trial and the moment he had stopped thinking of him as Malfoy and started referring to him as Draco…Draco…
**
Now the blonde stood, looking lost and vulnerable in the middle of the stark room but he lifted his chin, a gesture reminiscent of the proud boy he used to be. Even with his eyes slightly swollen and his hair falling into his eyes, he looked every inch a prince. Draco hadn't changed all that drastically in the last two years. He was a little bit taller now, and his slender frame had filled out just a bit. The handsome features he had as a teen were just a little bit sharper, making him look more like his father had, though it was his hair that surprised Harry the most. The silvery strands hung down almost to the small of his back, held together in a thick rope by a tie at the nape of his neck, a sign that blonde had taken his status as the Head of the Malfoy family seriously. Too bad he seemed to be the last one left.
"I remember what you said. I thought perhaps you might have forgotten, seeing as where I am," the man's lips twisted and he could see a hint of betrayal in his silvery eyes. A flash of annoyance crashed over him but how else could he have expected Draco to have seen it? Harry had been unable to stop his arrest, after all.
"Don't be a prat," he snapped only to feel guilty a moment later when the grey gaze flattened. He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, "I'm doing my best to get you out but it seems the Minister rather likes you where you are now. Kingsley has gone to talk with him," he felt like he needed to explain the entire situation, not wanting the blonde to misunderstand. He watched the slender hands clench and unclench a few times, leaving him to wonder what it was that was passing through the other man's head. He had every reason to doubt the dark haired Auror and it was only Harry's undiminished attraction to the man that wished Draco wouldn't question him. Yet it was only natural that he would. After all, the blonde was the ex-Death Eater here and this was the second time he had been locked up despite his innocence.
"You…you don't think I would do something like this…do you?" the unsteady cadence to his voice drew Harry's surprised gaze and he could see the depth of the ache in the grey eyes, fear of being left alone, of being rejected. It made him want to sweep the blonde into his arms, to reassure him with actions instead of words. Somehow he barely managed to restrain himself but it was a mere thing. As it was, his feet took a few steps closer without his permission.
"Of course not," Harry's voice was rough with conviction and whatever Draco saw in his face had him glancing away, the silver gaze turning molten.
"I think…she's gone…she's gone, Harry…" and as the blonde buried his face in his hands, Harry couldn't hold back. Heart breaking in the face of the other man's pain, the dark haired Auror swept forward and caught Draco up in a fierce embrace, feeling the slim frame sag against his own, soft sobs filling the cold room. It was a side of the blonde he had never seen before, this break in the normally diligent control but he was human too and while Harry had lost his parents long ago, he could still understand the pain such a loss could bring. After all, Sirius had been like a father to him, as had Lupin, both of whom where now gone. He just held on to the shaking shoulders that felt too thin under the soft, expensive shirt and let the pain break against him, slamming into him like a storm against a cliff side. The fact that he held the man he had been in love with for nearly three years did not escape him, however, the warmth of the blonde's body pressing into him even as he shook, evidence of his grief soaking the front of Harry's robes.
So caught up in it, he nearly jumped out of his skin when the door slammed open, revealing a red-faced Ron and an expressionless Kingsley, who made the room seem almost too small.
"What the hell is going on here?" Ron's voice was strident and disbelieving as he stared at the two wizards standing in the middle of the room. Gritting his teeth, Harry let the blonde take a few steps away, looking surprisingly composed for his previous crack of control. Except for the red lining his grey eyes, he looked like he always had, perfect and untouchable. The dark haired man wondered how much that façade must be costing him. His partner was still looking at him in disbelief, "You taking his side now, Harry? Huh? Have you forgotten that he's the enemy here?" Harry lifted his chin, crossing his arms over his chest.
"The only enemy is the person who set those houses on fire," he growled before turning his gaze to his boss still filling the doorway, "Have you found anything out about Narcissa?" Draco made a soft sound behind him and it was all he could do not to turn when he felt a cool hand wrap around his wrist. Ron's eyes narrowed at the action.
"I'm afraid the situation is still unstable but I assure you Mr. Malfoy, we are doing everything in our power to—"
"Harry…" everyone turned to stare at the Weasley who was staring at the pale hand still curled around his wrist like Harry was being contaminated just from the simple touch, "do you realize just who it is that's touching you?" the man positively seethed, no doubt wishing he could hex Draco to hell and back but his partner was blocking the way. Emerald eyes met snapping blue and he gently dislodged the slim hand only to slide his palm over Draco's, the skin warm and dry. Their fingers curled together, the perfect fit. He could feel the startled grey eyes on him but he watched Ron, whose face had turned ashen under his freckles.
"I know, Ron and he'd a better person than you, or anyone, seems to be willing to give him credit for," the warm hand squeezed his and they watched on in silence the transformation of his friend's face as it went from milky pale to nearly puce, twisting into an expression that Harry had never seen before and couldn't even put a name to. The taller man took a threatening step forward.
"You traitor! How many people does he have to kill for you to see the truth!?" he snarled, spittle flying from his lips and Harry whispered a hissing spell, raising a barrier between him and his partner, making Draco gasp near his ear and Ron even more angry than he already was. Yet before the red head could lift his wand, Kingsley stepped in.
"That's enough," the deep voice boomed through the room and brought everyone to a halt, "Mr. Weasley. You are clearly unable to control yourself and will be given a forced leave of absence until you can get a handle on it. It has been determined that Mr. Malfoy has no connection to this tragedy as he has been in Rome for the past three weeks," Harry breathed a little easier at this, not because he thought Draco guilty but because there was no reason for him to be held here. Ron rounded on the Head Auror, fists clenched at his side.
"You can't do that!" he raged only to be halted by the bigger man taking a step forward, towering over the already tall Weasley.
"I think that you'll find I can. Now get out before I am forced to confiscate your badge," one last blazing glare was thrown at Harry before the red head stormed from the room. Only then did Harry drop the shield, breathing a sigh of relief. Draco tugged at his hand, clearly wishing to free it but the dark haired man just held it tighter, casting a glace to the blonde standing at his shoulder. The man still retained his icy exterior but he could see the flicker of hesitation in his eyes. Harry just squeezed his fingers again, turning back to Kingsley.
"So then he can leave?" he asked, voice firm and he noted how his boss's eyes flickered to their joined hands with some amusement. What he made of it, Harry wasn't sure but he was just glad the man made no comment. He was reluctant to let Draco go now that he finally had him back.
"Yes," and Harry was about to sag in relief when the man raised one of his big hands, stalling his grin, "But he is only to be released under the custody of an Auror," the room went silent and he could feel Draco stiffen next to him.
"What--?!" started the blonde in outrage but Harry's voice cut him off.
"Which Auror?" and Kingsley just smiled.
"You, Potter," for some reason he could almost hear the "of course" tacked on at the end. He turned his emerald gaze to Draco's and wondered where all the blonde's protests had gone.
**
"You do realize what you have done here, right Harry?" green eyes watched as Hermione paced anxiously before the fireplace in the dreary study at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, the actions familiar and distracting. The brunette had appeared in his house an hour after he had arrived with a silent Draco in tow, her hair looking more disarrayed than normal and worry shining in her brown eyes. Sighing, he stared into the dark fireplace, thoughts on the blonde he had left in the sitting room, blankly sipping at his tea. His new house guest had not been best pleased upon seeing the house he was resigned to, though Harry guessed he couldn't really blame him for that. It was really the one of the most depressing places he had ever seen. Normally, he wouldn't notice as he barely bothered to come back for days on end, having thrown himself into his job as he had. Yet until they could completely clear Draco's name (he had been furious to learn the blonde was still under suspicion) he would be spending a lot more time at home.
"I'm not quite sure what you mean, Hermione," he answered, voice tired and the woman stopped before the chair he was slumped in, face stern and hands pressed into her hips.
"Don't get me wrong, I know what he did for us during the war and I'm glad that they did not keep him there but so many people still see him as a Death Eater! His name alone is still not something to be taken lightly," Harry looked at her for a long moment, knowing exactly what she was getting at and wishing there was some way around this never ending, ever circling conversation.
"He's not leaving," he said flatly. If he had protested, Kingsley would have most certainly have set Draco up on house arrest with a different Auror but Harry had no intention of doing such a thing.
"Harry, you're…you have a reputation!" Hermione practically tore at her hair and he felt a moment of sympathy. She was only trying to do what was best for him but he would be damned if what his name meant to the rest of the world got in the way of the person he was. Tilting his head back to rest on the back of the chair, he met his friend's gaze squarely.
"People can say what they want. I'm not and never was anyone they could pin their expectations on," she seemed to sag at those words but she wasn't sorted into Gryffindor for nothing.
"Expectations, no but hope yes. The fact that you have kept fighting for stability and freedom is what gives people hope that there might be an end to the darkness after all. They need you to be what they think you are," he knew all of this, of course. It was a conversation they have had many times and yet it still managed to make his gut clench uncomfortably. Fame was something that had been thrust upon him unexpectedly after eleven years of neglect and abuse. It was never something he had gotten used to.
"I know that but I can't keep up this fight forever, especially when so many of those people you speak about still let their fear and hate get in the way of rationality. For now, let them see that there are others still fighting and it's not just me. Maybe then they'll just forget I exist," the notion was an appealing one. The brunette carded a hand through her bushy curls, making them fall more to one side than the other.
"Damn your stubbornness," she said then sighed, looking at him through the gloom. He supposed he should have the windows cleaned but he just couldn't bother to remember, "I know you're right, of course, it's not fair to keep asking for so much from you. Just know, most people will not take kindly of you protecting a Malfoy," his lips quirked up in a tiny smile.
"I don't really care about that," he paused, picking at a seam in his pants and glanced away from the witch's searching gaze. He had no right to ask after his partner but Ron had been his friend for a long time. The fact that they definitely would never be again unless the red head conceded a bit on his harsh anger hurt more than he liked to admit, "Have you heard from Ron?" Hermione snorted, resuming her pacing, though he could see by the set of her shoulders that whatever had transpired between Harry's former partner and his bushy haired friend had probably been bad.
"Right before I came here, actually. He's beyond mad, of course, but I supposed that's to be expected. Said something about you fraternizing with the enemy and other crap to that degree," she rolled her eyes then glanced at Harry with an amused expression that reminded him of the one Kingsley had given him earlier, "Holding hands and hugging, huh? Finally told him, did you?" Harry blushed but smiled anyway, shaking his head ruefully. It made him wonder just what Ron had said that she would be wearing that knowing expression now.
"No, not yet. But I think, to some degree, he already knows," to which she just hummed and said nothing else. She didn't stay very long after that, leaving him with a gentle good luck and a hug, reminding him of the girl he had known back in the earlier days at Hogwarts. Then he wandered off in search of Draco, who was still in the sitting room on the ground floor Harry had left him in, looking out of place amid the perpetual gloom of the house. His grey eyes were unseeing as they stared out of the grimy window out onto the dull street where Muggles went about their normal routines. The sight struck him and for a moment he paused in the doorway, just letting the knowledge sink in that Draco was here, in his house and would not be leaving for the foreseeable future. Such thoughts sent giddy flutters through his stomach. Maybe now he would have the courage to say what should have been said years ago.
"I tried to get there in time…" the hoarse whisper barely reached him where he stood, wrenching at him like a twist to the gut and he pushed off the wall, going to sit on the couch next to the blonde. There was a pause before Draco turned his head and fixed him with a dull, silvery stare, looking like he was about to break any moment, "I'm very tired…" Harry nodded, feeling slightly guilty and stood again, motioning the blonde to follow.
He led Draco up two flights of stairs, to the third floor which was the only one he bothered keeping clean. The halls were dank and silent save for their ringing footsteps but he was glad that, for once, his was not the only pair this time. There was no need for words, the thing that had happened hanging over them like a dark cloud. He didn't know what would happen should it be confirmed that Narcissa was indeed dead but he knew he could never leave the blonde on his own now. Whatever might come to pass, they were inexorably bound together, as they had been since the very day they had met. There was no thought as he pushed a familiar door open, glad that he at least kept his own bedroom a bit less gloomy than the rest of the house.
"You can sleep in here," he said, stepping aside so Draco could move into the room, glancing around as he did. Feeling bad as he noted the vaguely lost look on the blonde's face, he gestured towards the closet and realizing with disgust he still wore his crimson robes, "You can borrow some clothes for now and then tomorrow we can stop by the Manor to get you some stuff," but the other man shook his head, long hair curling around his shoulder and spilling over his chest like a bright waterfall. It was really quite mesmerizing.
"I…I don't think I can…g-go back t-there," Draco was holding himself together by will alone and the visible cracks left Harry at a loss.
"Alright, then I'll go. Get some rest, now," A nod answered and Draco just kicked off his shoes before he crawled on top of the bed, curling into a ball, his knees tucked against his chest. The sight made him wish he was just a little bit braver but he figured that Draco wouldn't want to be seen like this as his shoulders shook and the masks shredded apart. The dark haired wizard was just turning away when the blonde's voice caught at him, drawing him back, making him remember, making him hope.
"Please…I'm alone…" He glanced back at the figure curled up on his bed and suppressed a flash of longing that was so strong it left him breathless. Silently closing the door, he padded through the dark room, shedding his Auror robes as he went. His heart was pounding as he climbed onto the bed behind the blonde, hissing a spell and conjuring a warm blanket before curling himself around the other man, pressing his chest against the trembling back while wrapping his arms around the slender torso. It was right in so many ways, the warmth pressed against his own, the rich scent of the thick hair his nose was buried in, the soft, unsteady breathing…so right, so perfect. He stayed awake listening first as the blonde sobbed quietly into the pillow and then as his breathing evened out, relaxing into Harry's embrace, knowing that everything he was would forever more belong to this man right here in his arms.
"I love you, Draco…" those words, the ones that had been sitting on his tongue for too long, cut gently through the quiet room, easing around them like a warm cocoon. Now, if only he could say it when the blonde was awake.
Harry was just dozing off when warm hands curled around his that were fastened over a flat stomach, holding him tightly. Perhaps Draco had been awake after all…
**
"How is it that you are able to do wandless magic so easily?" the question directed at him over the breakfast table the next morning caught him off guard and he looked over at Draco who was calmly sipping at a glass of orange juice while watching him eat. Harry chewed quickly, wondering what had prompted the question as he noted the silvery eyes were still rimmed with red and had dark smudges under them.
"Well, I've always been able to, though it only used to manifest when I was really angry but since the war, I have found that I can channel some of it when I need to," he shrugged, playing with his spoon submerged in a bowl of soggy Muggle cereal. The thought of feeding Draco cereal had made him wince but it was really the only food he had in the house and the blonde had been fascinated by the colorful shapes and the juvenile, unmoving images on the cardboard box. Now those expressive grey eyes looked somewhat impressed, making him a little self conscious. Giving up on what was left his breakfast, he pushed the bowl away and leaned his elbows on the table. "Care to see a demonstration?" dark eyebrows waggled and before the blonde could respond, he hissed a word in Parsletongue. Draco gasped when the glass he had been nursing slipped from his fingers and floated gently to the table top.
"Oh…" the blonde said in a small voice, staring at the glass for another moment before lifting his eyes to Harry's again. The dark haired man offered a tiny, sheepish smile.
"It only works if I use Parsletongue, though I have no idea why that would be. Hermione thinks it's because when the last piece of Voldemort's soul was destroyed within me the residual magic latched on to the power his soul had lent me. It's not as effective or half as strong as using a wand, of course, but it has its uses," Draco nodded, a pensive look crossing his features.
"Yes, I can see that," he said a bit dryly and Harry had to smile. There was a heavy pause in which he watched slim fingers once again lifting the glass gingerly, before the blonde's smooth voice cut through the silence, "I heard what you said yesterday, to Granger and I suppose I need to thank you. I did not realize how much you having to babysit me would put you out," the handsome face scrunched a bit in distain and Harry wondered at the expression.
"You are not putting me out in the least, Draco," he answered, voice firm, hoping the other man would believe him, though he was ready to convince the former Slytherin should the need arise. Instead the deep gaze fixed upon his own and he was sure for a moment he saw the blonde's lips twitch upwards in a smile, "Seriously…I…I like that you're…here…" Another long silence and then he was drowning in the answering smile. There was no returning sentiment because he had to be honest with himself, Draco couldn't be happy with the circumstances and he really couldn't blame him for that. Yet even so, he almost hoped that maybe the other man wouldn't think it was so terrible.
Harry had been alone for so long, he had forgotten what it was like to have someone else around. He had woken with his arms full and a steady warmth of someone else's body curled around his own. It had been bliss and he had forgotten for a moment just what it was that had put Draco in his bed in the first place. He had just lay there for a moment, basking in the feeling of the strong, steady heartbeat pressed against his side and warm breath tickling his neck, letting the sunlight spill over his face in sweet, honeyed pools. This was what he had been craving for so long, the feeling of that void deep inside of him being filled, if just for a while, by the soothing presence of another person. Then he had smirked at his own thoughts, figuring that his sentiments, however true they might be, most likely stemmed from his consistent lack of human interaction. By the time Draco stirred from his sleep, Harry was already up and showered, stomach reminding him he had not eaten for a long while. Neither said anything about the night before.
"So, I was thinking, I could drop by the Manor, with your permission of course, grab you some things—" but whatever Draco might have said was lost when the wide fireplace on the other side of the dark kitchen bust to life, nearly giving them both heart attacks as it expelled Kingsley. The older man looked every inch of the Head Auror he was but the expression in his eyes was grim.
"I'm very sorry to disturb you Harry, Mr. Malfoy," they both just nodded and Harry glanced at Draco when the blonde reached across the table and snagged his hand, as if looking for comfort. When Kingsley spoke again, he was infinitely glad the former Slytherin was able to find at least a little solace in him, "We have found your mother,"
**
The strong ocean breeze tugged at their robes and hair, bring with it the strong scent of salt and brine. Draco stood with his back to him, watching quietly as roaring waves crashed against the cliff that they occupied. He didn't need to see the other man's expression to know his distress. It made him feel helpless and inexplicably angry, though the anger was not directed at the blonde in anyway. It wasn't fair, really, that such a thing had to have happened. Hadn't he already lost enough? The man had worked as a spy for one of the most dangerous evil wizards in history, his life constantly threatened. His father had been killed in the final battle, all of his friends had either been killed or abandoned him. And now this.
Harry glanced to his right where two gravestones lay side by side, one well maintained, the other brand new, grass having not even grown over the site yet. The older one was just a little molted, stained with the passage of time and on it was carved a familiar name; Lucius Malfoy. The other, sparkling pearly white in the dim, overcast light, had Draco's mother's name on it. They were the only stones, it seemed, in the Malfoy plot, that looked relatively well kept. On most of the others, he couldn't even make out the names. For some reason, it left him feeling strangely melancholy, especially as he watched the heavy breeze toss about Draco's long hair, making it dance and curl about his arms and torso. The man had been distant since they had gone to the ministry with Kingsley that day, barely saying two words, grief always at the forefront of his grey eyes. The only reason Harry knew the blonde wasn't intentionally pushing him away is because every night it was the same; he would be already in bed and not five minutes later would the blonde be curled up next to him, back firmly turned away from him but there none the less. And every time Harry would reach out and wrap his arms around the blonde, loving how the other man trusted him enough to relax right away, melting into the embrace. There would be no words, just that. Still, he couldn't help but wish the circumstances had been better.
**
Kingsley had taken them not to the morgue at the hospital like Harry had thought he would but down to the secret levels of the Department of Mysteries. There had been a lot of confusing doors and they had been blindfolded once they reached the actual rooms. But he had been unprepared for what they had seen when the blindfolds had been removed. There was too much light at first but when his eyes had finally stopped aching enough to focus, he couldn't breathe.
For there, spread out on a rather uncomfortable looking table was Narcissa Malfoy.
A little cry broke through the room as Draco practically threw himself at his mother, who looked for all the world like she was just sleeping. Even her skin had a gentle, rosy color to it, adding to the illusion. It took him a moment to realize just what it was that was wrong. She wasn't breathing.
There was dead silence in the room while Draco stared down at the still form, trailing one hand over her cheek before he turned his blazing eyes to Kingsley. It may have looked like the blonde wasn't shaken but under the mask he knew the other man was breaking as the last remains of hope slipped away.
"Why does she look like she's sleeping?" he had hissed and Harry's heart skipped when the words broke. The blonde looked back into his mother's face and the frown he wore was pained, "Like she could wake up at any time," his slender hand curled around one of Narcissa's holding onto it almost as if he hoped the contact would jar her into wakefulness. Hating that look of longing, Harry took a step forward, wanting to hold him, to offer some kind of comfort.
"Draco…"
"I think I can answer that," the new voice startled them as they hadn't heard the arrival of a new comer who had just slipped into the room. It was then he noticed there were other tables with more bodies of people he didn't recognize, all in the same perfectly preserved state as Draco's mother. Then Neville Longbottom stepped up next to Harry and offered a small, sad smile, "Hey Harry," all he could do was nod, having not seen his old classmate since after the war ended. That seemed to have happened with a lot of people.
"You work here?" he asked quietly, eyes flickering every so often to make sure Draco was still in the room. He had gone deathly silent, his face more ashen than usual, making the color of his eyes stand out. Neville nodded with a shrug.
"Yeah, I was going to join the Aurors but…there had been so much violence…" well, that was certainly something Harry could understand. He often wished he had a choice and could have gone on to do something else. Then the taller man cleared his throat and after that he was all business, face changing to resemble an expression he had picked up during the war, "She looks like she's sleeping because her body has been petrified, so to speak, preserved perfectly even in death," Harry blinked then looked over at Narcissa's still face again.
"How is that even possible?" he asked, stepping up next to Draco and staring down into the familiar features. It looked strange lacking any facial expression because the few times he had seen the older woman, she had either been looking down at everyone else or she was terrified. He could see where Draco got his looks from, at least, "I saw the fire. It was burning everything, including stone and metal," Neville nodded, rounding the table so he could address both Harry and the former Slytherin with ease.
"Yes, the fire was the result of a spell I have never seen before, made to consume everything but a vessel with a soul, taking with it any evidence of the spell's castor. It wasn't, though, the cause of death. It seems the victims were killed by a different spell of whose origin I still cannot figure out," he lifted his eyes to Draco who was biting his lip and holding on to his mother's hand with both of his, "I would like to say that they did not suffer but I can't lie. Each victim was made to live out every last painful memory before the spell did its work…I'm sorry," Draco made a tiny noise, eyes wide as he stared down into Narcissa's still face. She looked so peaceful now, like she had just slipped away in her sleep.
"W-why would someone do this?" if sound was spun from glass, his voice would have shattered into a million shining pieces to the floor. But he didn't cry. Not that he would let anyone else see him like that but Harry thought it dreadfully unfair that Draco was not allowed to show such a thing where other people might see. It was Kingsley's rumbling voice that answered.
"We are still unclear as to the why but it seems this was not the first attack," Grey and emerald snapped up to stare at the older man, shock rippling through the room. This was the first time Harry was hearing of another such attack, "It has happened in France and Spain as well, with the same spell and the victims in the same condition,"
"There are no suspects?" he asked in a subdued voice, practically feeling the tension rolling off the blonde at his side. Kingsley's expression was closed off as he studied Harry, no doubt pondering what he should tell the dark haired Auror.
"Not as of yet but we have a few clues. I would ask you to stay uninvolved, Potter. It's too close and we have to treat this one with care," and when Harry opened his mouth to protest, wanting to be the one to offer Draco his closure, he was cut off by his boss' stern glare and a hand in the air, "You need to stay put and keep Mr. Malfoy safe. The reason he was put into you custody was not for punishment but for protection," confused, Harry was once again going to argue but the older man didn't even give him a chance, making him freeze with his next sentence, "All of the attacks have been against Purebloods,"
**
"Do you think that maybe they are in a better place now?" the voice came to him over the hissing crash of the waves, taking him by surprise. They never talked while they were here. Harry would just stand beside entrance of the iron fence and watch the blond as he stood, straight and still before the two gravestones that held his parent's names. There were never any words, not here. Just the overwhelming sense of loss and another, deeper emotion Harry had yet to be able to put a name to. Now Draco was looking at him over his shoulder, looking like he had been infused with the silvery light that was filtering through the steely clouds, all bright platinum hair and expressive grey eyes. He was beautiful in every sense of the word. It took the dark haired wizard a moment to comprehend the question he had just been asked, trying to extract himself from the vision the blonde made, resplendent in his grief. His emerald gaze flickered to the dark mound of dirt stretched out before Draco's feet and hoped that, for his sake, both Narcissa and Lucius had found their peace.
"I don't know," he said at last and though his voice had been soft, the blonde had heard for when he turned back around, his shoulders had raised an inch, as if trying to protect himself from something Harry couldn't see. After that, all that could be heard was the sonorous voice of the wind as it howled around their heads. They stayed longer that day than usual, him watching Draco's back as the blonde looked beyond the little fenced in yard and out at the brooding water. Then he heard it, just as the dim light was beginning to wane and the chill of night was starting to set in, the three words that opened onto the sea of a broken heart.
"I miss them," he almost didn't catch Draco in time as he collapsed, both of them born to the loamy earth, the line of mismatched stones blocking them from the insistent wind. Harry struggled to right himself only to be held in place by a strong pair of arms around his waist. He was pressed snuggly against the other man, the warmth from their bodies mingling and making him slightly dizzy. Grey eyes searched his own, unfathomable in their depth and he settled into the cool grass that tickled his neck. Tears clung to a smooth, pale cheek which he reached up to wipe away, the clear liquid cool on his fingertips, "Thank you, Harry," he whispered then, voice blending in with the sound of the sea but Harry heard him anyway.
"What for?" but in his heart, he already knew the answer. A warm, slim hand traced the line of his jaw and he drank in the way their breaths mingled in the cool air, the taste of it sweet and heavy on his tongue.
"You stayed, even though everyone else doubted and you didn't shy away when I was alone. And because…because you love me…" the grey eyes darted away for a moment and his throat constricted, wondering if there was a "but" that was about to follow. Instead he found himself drowning as there was no hesitation in the silver depths when the long, pale lashes lifted, Draco's eyes meeting his own. He was lost in his smile. Another warm stroke of a hand against his jaw, the fingertips so gentle that he could barely gather his thoughts enough to form a response. Then he didn't need to, "I love you too, Harry," there was fear, even though the blonde knew that by now, he wouldn't run away but it was there anyway, "So much…l-l-love you and it hurts and it makes every other hurt seem less important and—" and there were no more words because Harry was stealing them away with a kiss.
It was beautiful, blinding, threatening to swallow him whole. The kiss itself was hardly perfect; the blonde's mouth had been open because he was in the middle of saying something and their teeth crashed together but Harry couldn't have asked for anything more. Draco's lips were soft and tasted of salty rain, of tears, of grief, of the kind of joy that lasts an entire lifetime. Green clashed with grey before their eyes fluttered closed and the blonde's lips finally wrapped around his own. It was that moment the dark haired man finally knew peace. This was what he had been waiting for and if he had had to live through a hundred years before he could have this again, then he would have gladly done so. Because Draco loved him. Because Draco loved Harry…
They broke apart for air and their gazes caught for a single second that stretched on and on and then he was crushing his mouth to the blonde's, tongue lapping at the velvety bottom lip, demanding more. When it was given to him, he was lost. He slipped into the other man's hot mouth, feeling their panting breaths expelled sharply down each other's throats, touching upon every slippery surface, mesmerized by the deep, rich taste. There were no words to describe it. Lips sucked and teeth nipped so that by the time they managed to part, taking large gulps of much needed air, he knew he could never live without this. At some point, he had wrapped his arms around the slender waist, keeping their bodies intimately connected and there was an unwavering hand in his hair while another had slipped up under his shirt, stroking the soft skin of his lower back. It was then, looking into grey eyes darkened with desire, he realized just how hot he was and where that heat was slowly beginning to take residence.
"When this whole thing with the Purebloods being hunted down is over, I would still like to stay with you. If you want me," those fingers in his hair were massaging his scalp, sending slow curls of pleasure licking down his spine. Harry snorted a laugh which earned himself a heated glare.
"Of course I want you. Whatever would make you think I wouldn't?" it was Draco's turn to snort, though it was humorless and sounded more like an indignant huff, something the blonde did that the dark haired wizard found insanely endearing. The silvery gaze slid away from his own, leaving him to marvel over the light pink flush that was working over Draco's pale features.
"Well you never know," he grumbled, making Harry laugh again, this time louder. He moved his arm, turning the finely tapered chin so the blonde was looking at him again.
"I do know. I know that I love you and I'll never stop and you'll have to kill me to ever be free of me, especially now," and he grinned wickedly, wrapping his hands in the back of Draco's cloak and pressing his slender frame as close and as hard to his own as he could. The smile must have been contagious because the blonde had his own wicked glint in his eye, twisting the raven colored locks in his fingers hard enough to make Harry wince.
"Oh? Why is it an especially now?" they were so close, so close that he could taste his breath as it spilled between his parted lips, which brushed each other when they spoke. The dark haired man chuckled, shivering slightly as the heat continued to intensify. Harry glanced down, entranced by how the other man's lips were reddened and wet from their kisses, only to add to it as he dragged his tongue over the sweet curve. His heart skipped as he found traces of the deep, silvery flavor in the dip of the corner of the blonde's mouth.
"Because I've waited for this forever," he murmured before delving in again, groaning as the entirety of his world exploded on his tongue. His brain functions seemed to be lowering with every silky slide of their lips as the world slowly slid away into the abyss, narrowing until all he knew was Draco. The way Draco tasted, the way he accepted Harry's enthusiastic advances and met them with his own, the way their tongues tangled together, giving and taking in a heady dance. The man kissed like he lived, strong and demanding, invading every last one of his senses until he was reeling. They broke apart several times and each time they returned, it was different until it got to the point where he had to stop or he would pass out, either from desire or the lack of oxygen. A soft laugh flitted over his nose right before warm lips pressed a kiss there.
"Forever seems a bit extreme, Potter," the blonde pulled away saying, letting his head fall to the side to rest on the grass, looking up at the dark haired man as they caught their breath and racing hearts. He lifted an eyebrow, trying to affect incredulity.
"Well, three years or thirty, it still felt like forever to me," Draco fell very quiet, looking at him as if trying to see past the bright color of his eyes, letting slim fingers trail over the line of his temple, curving down his cheekbone, dancing over his tan skin. There was a little wonder in that look but what else the blonde was trying to hide had no name. The intensity behind it took Harry's breath away. The next kiss was slow, searching and so deep he wasn't sure where he ended and where Draco began. The heat was quickly turning into arousal, licking at his insides with increasing intensity. He wasn't the only one, though. A hard, hot length he could feel even through their layers of clothing pressed into his hip, the feel of it turning his blood into molten fire. It dragged against him when he tried to pull the slighter man closer to him, as if they could melt into one another and just like that he was instantly hard. A moan dragged at his mouth, slipping down his throat and it was a beautiful sound, full of need.
"Hmm, Harry…" those grey eyes were so deep and they pulled at his soul as they met his own straight on, the color almost swallowed by the pupils, "I need you…" words, murmured against his mouth and it took him a moment to realize just what Draco meant. He jerked back, the unexpected request grounding him abruptly and leaving him gaping at the blonde unintelligibly.
"Wh-what, here?" if his voice was slightly higher than normal, than that was only to be expected. And yet as much as it surprised him, the way his cock pressed against his trousers and the dip of the other man's equally hard groin was nearly painful. Draco dug his fingers into Harry's thick hair, pulling him in for a hard, unforgiving kiss. His lips really looked good swollen like that, especially since it was Harry who had made them that way.
"Right here," he breathed, "I want you right here…now…" their lips caught, held, broke away before pressing together again. He had never needed anything so much in his entire life, letting his hips press forward just enough that had a gentle curl of pleasure shooting through his aching erection. Yes, yes, he needed this, had been waiting for so long. And it wasn't just this, either. It was everything that Draco had just offered him, giving him the entire world. Shining pools of silver met his own, glittering with dark desire. The blonde met his thrust with a shallow one of his own and Harry shook with the feeling, tipping his head back just a bit to memorize it as it fizzed on the backs of his eyelids. Damn, it felt good.
Hands wandered, fumbling with clothes as their lips crashed together again and again, breathing suddenly erratic. The heat seared under his skin as they started to move together, the need to feel one another hindering whatever attempts they were making to remove obstacles that hid all that beautiful pale skin from him. Their hips fit together perfectly, grinding and bucking together in a steady rhythm, the heat pooling in his lower belly hot enough to sear nerve endings.
"Harry…M-Merlin…" and all he could do was groan back as their hard lengths lined up and rubbed together, shooting white hot pleasure through his limbs. The long, platinum hair had come free of its tie, falling all around Draco's head like a halo and Harry couldn't decide whether to thread his fingers through the silky length or to keep working at the other man's clothing. Just then the blonde groaned loudly, a long, low uuuugh that nearly did him in and bared a lovely view of his pale, slender neck which Harry had to taste. The skin was smooth as he sucked and kissed, tasting so good he was nearly dizzy with it. Hair the color of corn silk eased over his face, its spicy, musky scent filling his nose and with a gasp he gave up on trying to separate Draco from his clothes, just clamping his hands to his buttocks and grinding their hips together, needing more…more.
Which was why he was confused when strong hand reached around, catching his wrists to still his movements. He lifted his dark head, ready to complain when he was captivated by the nearly black eyes rimmed with silver that stared back at him.
"No time…now, Harry," and he swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry. Yes, right now. Hands shaking, he pulled back enough for his head to clear before he drew the blonde into a slow, gentle kiss, managing a smile when he pulled away. In that moment, right then, he realized just how beautiful Draco really was. His hair caught at the grass, strewn in every direction, his silvery eyes wide and dark with need. An attractive flush spread over his face, making his lips look, if possible, even redder as they parted, curling in a gentle smile.
"Turn around," he whispered, struck by the amount of trust he found in the blonde's eyes. He wondered what he had done to earn something so fragile yet so breathtaking such as that. Draco didn't hesitate, either, just shifting in Harry's arms so that his back was pressed into the dark haired wizard's chest, warmth seeping through his clothes and while he wanted to touch every last bit of the other man's skin, press his lips to every pale curve, this was just as good. He sunk his nose into thick, silvery hair, drawing in the delicious scent of it while sliding his hands over slim hips, fingers tugging at the rough material of charcoal colored pants. As he pressed his lips to the back of the slender neck, his fingers worked the buckle at the blonde's waistband, breath catching with the knowledge of what they were about to do. After so long of wanting, Draco has finally his.
Slowly, he eased his hands under the warm material, listening to the way the blonde's breathing quickened and he shivered at the feel of the smooth curve of Draco's jutting hipbones. He took a moment to roll his fingers in gentle circles over the sensitive skin before working the other man's trousers down, loving the lean thighs as they trembled under his touch. The curve of the other man's buttocks bucked back into his groin, the resulting jolt of heat making his pulse spike. Need surged through him and for a second he wasn't sure he manage to hold back. Pressing frantic kisses against the nape of the pale neck, he took a moment to hunt for his wand, not trusting his wandless magic at that moment, gliding his fingers of his other hand through the thick curls around the blonde's erection. Draco moved back again, trying to press himself even closer to the dark haired wizard.
"Hmmm, you're teasing…" the normally composed voice wavered, roughened with desire and Harry closed his eyes against the affect it had on him, thrusting his hips forward in anticipation.
"Very well," and he curled his fingers over the silky shaft of the other man's erection, adoring the low moan the action drew out of the former Slytherin. Each and every sound just made him harder, beginning to leak against the straining material of his pants. He eased his hand over the velvety skin, up, then down, making Draco's breath hitch with every sultry stroke. With each one, he moved his hips, heat spiking as the friction dragged at him. Above their heads, the wind howled on, forgotten in their absolute need for one another. He had been waiting for this for so long, it almost didn't feel real, basking in the heat rolling off the other man, in the hard curves of his slim body and the way he smelled, so rich, so perfect. Finally he couldn't take it anymore, whispering a warning before casting a Charm.
The blonde hissed quietly, tensing in Harry's arms momentarily and the dark haired man gave his cock a few more strokes, squeezing slightly as he got to the dripping head. The slick feel of pre cum was sticky as it ran over his fingers, the soft groans of his name being chanted to the cool grass telling him he should probably move along because Draco wasn't going to last much longer. Harry let his wand drop to the ground and reached between where their hips were pressed together, sliding his fingers into the crevice of the firm, rounded buttocks. At first it seemed the blonde didn't really notice, just rocking in time with the movements of the dark haired man's fist. Then he found the little wrinkled pucker of the blonde's entrance, the way slicked already from his spell and Draco let out an explosive,
"Oh! Harry!" to which the Auror groaned into the platinum hair, desire flaring brighter at the way the other man said his name. Taking less care than he would have liked, he pressed the first finger in, shuddering at the feel of the slick walls closing around the digit. The blonde, however, gasped at the intrusion, clamping his muscles in displeasure.
"Sorry, sorry. You have to relax," Harry crooned, not moving his finger to allow Draco a moment to adjust. The lubricating spell he had cast made the going easier but he still needed to stretch the other man before it could be comfortable. Panting harshly, the blonde did as he was told, slowly relaxing so that the dark haired man could start to move his hand, the slick, hot tightness almost too much. Still being careful, he added a second finger, working at the odd angle and just letting the muscles become accustomed to the intrusion. Soon he had three fingers inside the tight heat, moving them in time to the hand on Draco's cock. He couldn't help rocking his own hips as the blonde moaned and moved into the pleasure, trying to take in Harry's fingers even deeper while thrusting up into his fist. It was a heady thing, giving the blonde this kind of attention even while his own dick positively hurt with the strength of his desire.
"Harry…Harry…Please…I need…ah…uh…" the words were gasped out in between the strokes of his hands and he stilled, biting the inside of his lip against the wave of longing that flooded his veins. Yes, yes…Draco groaned when he pulled his hands away and the dark haired Auror eased it with a lingering kiss at the soft hollow behind the blonde's ear. In the moment he took to ease the front of his trousers open and pull out his throbbing erection he managed to rein back the raging lust a bit, though he was fairly lightheaded with anticipation.
"Just relax," he breathed, sliding his hand between the blonde's legs and lifting the top one just enough for room to press the tip of his cock against the blonde's entrance, positively shaking with the need to just slam forward into all that blinding heat. Knowing he needed to take everything slowly and gently, he just pushed forward enough to breach the first tight ring of muscles, breathless with the feel if the pressure around his tip. Even with the warning, Draco still tensed as he was penetrated, forcing Harry to stop and wait, both of them already breathless with the effort. Harry stroked the blonde's abdomen with his free hand, easing up under his shirt and over the smooth, pale skin beneath it. Abandoning the lean thigh, he once again curled his fingers around the other man's somewhat diminished erection, stroking the velvety skin until it hardened once again, at the same time kissing and sucking on as much of the slender column of the pale neck as he could reach. Finally, Draco relaxed in his arms, giving a whispering sigh.
"I'm alright," he breathed and the dark haired man gritted his teeth, thrusting in smoothly until he was buried to the hilt. Then he had to stop, nearly overwhelmed by being surrounded by such a tight, beautiful heat. Draco once again tensed, shaking in his arms but other than the short little gasps falling from his lips, there was no other sign of distress. One pale hand was curled around Harry's that pressed to the flat stomach while the other fisted in the cool grass, the knuckles white. For long moments all he could hear was their ragged breathing and the way the sea raged in the background, fighting to gather enough wits about himself so he could move without shaming himself. Finally the blonde seemed to get impatient, rolling his hips back enough to draw Harry in even deeper. He was unable to bit back the resulting groan as pleasure burned through him.
"Bloody hell…" he breathed, pulling out slowly only to thrust back in again, nearly whimpering at the devastatingly hot friction. Draco groaned his name as he moved again, arching his back, their bodies molding together. He rearranged their arms, sliding his bottom arm up so that it was under the blonde's shoulder, allowing him to wrap it around the clothed chest, hand spanning over the place where he could feel the rapid heartbeat slamming under the layer of material. His other hand slipped under the Slytherin's top arm, joining Harry's first hand on the warm chest, the embrace pressing them impossibly close together, making the position strangely intimate.
Only then did he begin to move in earnest, sliding out and then back in, whispering Draco's name with every beautiful connection. It was a little hard to move on his side like that, the full range of motion stunted. He just planted his feet as best he could, open trousers further restricting how wide he could part his legs yet it hardly mattered. Already the striving need for release shimmered at the edges of his consciousness, tightening in his stomach as he pushed forward, pleasure washing through him in ever increasing waves of intensity, making him tremble with the force of it. And Harry gave into it, holding Draco close to him, laying his head against the bright platinum one, their voices rising in compliment to the other, spiraling ever higher.
"Be—beautiful…you…you're…ah, Draco…" his words fell to the curve of the ear his lips were pressed against, barely coherent against the white wash of pleasure and the blonde responded with a loud groan, pushing back insistently to meet each one of Harry's thrusts. There was a subtle change in the angle of penetration that left the former Slytherin arching hard, his cries taking on a desperate tone, making the dark haired man shiver with the sound. He made sure to hit that spot every time.
"More…" the blonde's voice rolled through him, deep and velvety, so unbelievably sexy, "harder…" and the words were punctuated by a hand snaking around behind the dark haired Auror, sliding into his pants and pressing into the cleft of his buttocks, making him buck hard with a gasping cry. The extra stimulation sent bolts of electricity along his shaking limbs, pushing him farther and farther. He closed his eyes tightly against the onslaught, holding tight as he slammed into the blonde as hard as he could, teeth nearly biting through his lip as he tried not to scream in delight. Draco seemed to have no such qualms, shouting and gasping incoherently, his fingers shivering as they pressed into Harry, who gave in and nearly choked on a sobbing gasp. It was so good, so much better than he could ever have imagined during those long, lonely years, perfect in every way.
"Draco…damn…Merlin, I--I can't…" the pleasure had taken on a glittering edge, pulling tight in his groin as he tried to hold back, unable to catch his breath as he thrust into the welcoming heat then back into the slim, insistent fingers. He needn't have worried because the blonde was a close as he was, their movements erratic and almost desperate as they strove together towards the inevitable end. And what an end it was going to be. He could feel it curling up around the base of his spine, building, building until that was all he knew, the heat growing in a pool of liquid lava until he was sure he couldn't hold back.
"Hah—HARRY!!" Draco tensed in his arms just before his climax hit, blonde head thrown back in the grass as he screamed Harry's name to the darkening skies, arching hard as he found his release. The dark haired man was forced deeper than he could have believed possible before the hot, slick walls clenched painfully around his cock. Between that and the feel of the fingers inside of him that curled when the blonde lost control, he breathed a deep shuttering breath…and fell.
It was nothing like he had ever felt before, so powerful he wondered if he would break, every muscle in his body clenching as he came…and came…vision glittering with every beautiful color, streaked with gold and silver, reminding him of stars in a dark night sky. He filled the tight channel with milky pulses of his release until he felt empty, the waves slowly ebbing away until he was nothing but a scorched husk, shivering in the wake of such intense pleasure. And in the still cemetery hung the sound of his voice, Draco's name clinging to the wispy threads of the wind.
They lay like that for a long while, limbs going numb as the aftershocks faded, neither willing to relinquish the peace that they had found in one another. The past didn't matter, or the many things that were still left unsaid. The only thing here was him and Draco, wrapped around each other like they should have been so many years ago. There was nothing keeping them apart anymore, no war, no lingering childhood animosity, no House status. All of that was in another life, one they had both left behind and no matter what labels the blonde might have attached to his name, Malfoy, The Slytherin Prince, former Death Eater, he was still just Draco.
It took a few long moments to come to himself, arms still curled tightly around the blonde's chest, their breaths slowing, heartbeats steadying as they quietly listened to the howl of the wind and the growling voice of the sea. He kept their hips melded together, his softening length still buried deep within the former Slytherin, cradled in his warmth. There was a reality waiting for them, a place of grief and loss and fear but right then, he had everything he wanted. For the first time, he was happy.
"It's getting dark," Draco's voice was a little sliver of moonlight in the growing shadows, rousing him from his wandering thoughts. Harry hummed in agreement, turning his head to kiss the curve of a pale cheekbone, tasting salt and cooling silver. He knew that it was long past time they should have been getting back to Grimmauld Place, back to the dark corridors and grimy windows but his body was still buzzing pleasantly, making him feeling lazy and content, "Harry?" again he hummed, knowing that trying to form words would be pointless. The blonde chuckled slightly, turning his head so that the grey eyes looked up onto his emerald gaze, the silvery depths as dark as he had ever seen them, "You should know, I've loved you since I was eleven, when I held out my hand in that book shop and you refused to take it," the words took a moment to sink in, seemingly meaningless until he was able to catch up with them and when he did, he couldn't breathe.
For a moment, his brain completely shut down.
"What?" Harry's voice was a pathetic croak as he reared back, staring down at the other man like he had never seen him before. Surely Draco was just joking with him but the smile that curled on the full lips was soft and sincere.
"It was easy to pretend to hate you knowing that you thought I wasn't worth your time. Didn't make it hurt any less, though," he nearly cried with the lingering ache that was evident in the other man's voice and he crushed the blonde to him, burying his face into the thick, silvery hair. How could he have been so stupid? He couldn't even remember the reason why he had refused the young Draco a handshake that day.
"Merlin, if I had known…" the blonde cut him off with a laugh, sliding his hands around the Auror's arms still curled around Draco's chest. His palms were warm and dry, easing some of the distress. Under the regret, however, there was a lingering euphoria because Draco loved Harry, had for almost half of his life. Fingers slipped under his chin, forcing him to lift his head, meeting the grey eyes. They looked happy, sated, holding no resentment or regret.
"What would you have done? What could you have done? We were both too different and angry. It doesn't matter now anyway. You've more than made up for it and back then I know I was a bastard," well, that much was true. Draco had been downright evil during their years at Hogwarts but the war had burned all of that animosity and antagonism away. There was nothing left of the boys they had been. Harry leaned down and drew the blond into a deep kiss, swirling his tongue languidly in the wet heat of the other man's mouth for long minutes until they were both breathless, passion only strengthened by their joining.
"I still wish I had known," he murmured as he broke away, noting the hazy look in the deep, grey eyes. It was good to know he was not the only one affected so strongly. Draco just offered him another small smile before he turned his head away, pillowed by the soft grass. Since they were eleven. Merlin. Harry couldn't even wrap his head around that, guilt and joy swirling around in his chest until he could barely breathe. He knew that if Draco had told him his feelings rather than acting like a complete prat, acceptance would have been difficult. But he was sure that one some level, he would not have hated the blonde Slytherin as strongly as he had. Not that it really made much of a difference. The war had turned everything on its head until nothing made sense anymore. His acquired love and respect for the blonde had seemed like the most rational thing that had come from the smoldering conclusion of that conflict.
Finally Draco seemed to get restless, pressing a light kiss to Harry's cheek before gently breaking from his hold. They both hissed at the feel of the Auror's now flaccid cock sliding from the other man's entrance and he suddenly felt cold with the blonde's absence. He rolled onto his back and then was caught as he watched pale hands righting dark trousers, noting how Draco grimaced as he cast a short Cleaning Charm before buttoning them closed, straightening his clothing until he looked as impeccable as he had before their romp in the grass. When the grey eyes flickered to him, Harry slipped his hands behind his head, not caring about his disheveled state or that he was still hanging out of his pants and grinned. The deep gaze darkened as it regarded him but the blonde just put his hands on his hips and arched a single pale eyebrow.
"Who would have guessed, Harry Golden Boy Potter is useless after sex," the silver eyes rolled irritably and the dark haired man pouted, though he suppressed a flash of victory when Draco kept eyeing him, long hair curling around his shoulders as the wind ran rough fingers through it. Ah, but he was beautiful. Harry felt his heart swell even as he sat up, shimming his trousers back onto his hips.
"I'm not useless," he muttered petulantly, accepting the hand up. His knees still felt a little weak as he wrapped his arms around the slender shoulders. The blonde laughed a little bit before glancing back at the tombstones, an unreadable look on his face.
"Mother and father would probably have a heart attack if they knew I just had sex on their graves with you," and his little laugh sounded a bit strangled. The dark haired Auror felt a tug on his heart, knowing the loss was still too new, too raw for jokes such as that to be made. He pressed a kiss to the pale forehead, gently tucking a few stray strands of long, blond hair behind one ear before he turned to the two plain stones, face serious as he contemplated the two carved names. He wanted to take that pain away from the blonde so that he wouldn't have to suffer anymore. Harry kept one arm secured tightly around the other man as he addressed the pale, smooth stones, voice mockingly serious in an attempt to lighten the mood.
"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, I'd like to tell you that I am in love with your son and my intentions are honorable—" there was a snort at his side before he was smacked upside his head and he snickered, drawing Draco into another kiss, taking his time to memorize the rich flavor and the places that when teased with the tip of his tongue made the blonde gasp and moan against his lips. The grey eyes were glittering in amusement as they broke for air and it took Harry a moment to realize they were once again wrapped tightly together. The tilt of the blonde's mouth was endearing and sexy.
"Gryffindors and their honor," they laughed while as they kissed again and then the familiar tug of Disapparation pressed them close as they were swept away from the little plot, its peaceful winds and its fickle, ever changing guardian, the sea.
**
Only in place of the familiar brick front building among which hid the old Black house was a circle of encompassing green flames.
**
They Apparated in the still park just across the street like they always did, still pressed together and breathless with laughter. It took him a moment to realize something was wrong, a flurry of activity breaking the calm of the normally quiet street. Blinking, mood beginning to dissipate into worry, he pulled away from the blonde and glanced over his shoulder, wondering what all the fuss was about. It was already late, the steely grey sky mostly dark by now but there was a green glow marring the normal gloomy setting. He was distracted by the feel of warm lips sucking gently on his neck until he heard a distant shout. Harry lifted his head, instincts suddenly screaming at him.
"Do you hear that?" he whispered, looking back towards where the street was hidden from view by thick shrubbery, the tingle of magic crawling across his skin. Draco pulled back, looking somewhat confused in the greenish shadows.
"Hear what?" but he was not wrong. His instincts had never lied to him before. Harry grabbed the blonde's hand and they made their way through the park, towards the entrance by his house. The feeling of strong magic intensified, becoming more tainted the closer they got. Yet upon seeing what was left of the house that had been entrusted to him crumbling under the leaping flames, it was like he had been punched in the gut. They stopped short at the other end of the street, watching in dismay as the green fire tore through the row of houses, demolishing Number Twelve in the process. The hand clamped around his own tightened as Draco stepped up behind him, a warm presence in the sudden chill that had descended upon him, clenching around his heart like an angry fist.
"Harry…" he wanted to rage. That house had been the last thing he had left of Sirius and now that was gone too. There were people crowded at the end of the block and crimson robed Aurors flickered in and out of view. A heavy head landed on his shoulder and he glanced over at the blonde on his arm, wondering at the regret in those shining grey eyes, "That was meant for me," he blinked and realized Draco was right. Anger roiled through him as he pulled the other man closer, realizing he was inefficient protection against such hate. If they had not lingered in the cemetery, they would have been caught up in the blaze. Just then one of the Aurors on the scene spotted him, calling Harry's name in a familiar voice.
"Oh, thank Merlin," Ron gasped as he skidded to a halt in front of them, lines of strain and worry etched around his eyes, "We thought that you were both inside," the dark blue eyes flickered to how Harry was being so familiar with the blonde but oddly, there was no reaction. Draco made as if to move away but the dark haired man would have none of it, tightening his hold on the slender hand. The red head withheld any remark or judgment, just looking back at Harry again, relief shining on his face.
"When did they start?" he asked, eyeing the flickering green flames. Draco gently pulled away but he didn't move from Harry's shoulder, standing close enough to still touch if he felt the need to do so.
"About an hour ago. Honestly, mate, we thought you were—" but he didn't get the chance to finish, eyes going wide at something behind Harry, face paling visibly in the stark lighting. He turned just as Ron shouted, in time to see a spell, the color of it glowing orange in the dim light from the direction of the park as it raced through the air.
Right at Draco's back…
**
The sound of waves rolled over him as bright sunlight filtered down through the trees that hovered over the small, family plot, doing nothing to ease the chill from the wind that blew in relentlessly from the ocean. Harry stood beside Draco as he knelt down in front of two nearly identical stones, his pale features quiet and still.
"I just wanted to come by one last time," the smooth voice was quiet and somewhat reserved, addressing the white stones that marked the place where his parents rested. Draco reached out to run his fingers over the engraved names, grey eyes sad, "I'll make sure one of the house elves takes care of this place and you won't be forgotten but it's time to move on. I've started renovations on the Manor, though I'm sure you wouldn't approve, father. I'll leave the library, though. I know that was your favorite room. I think about you both often and I hope you found your own place somewhere…maybe we'll meet again someday," Harry watched as one corner of Draco's lips curled into a gentle smile before he straightened, taking the dark haired Auror's hand. Yet before they could turn away, the blonde looked out to the sea, looking fierce and strong like his namesake. "I want you to know that I love Harry. He's staying with me at the Manor and before you can scoff, I just want you to know that I'm happy," the grey gaze met emerald and something bright and burning fell into Harry's chest, warmth tingling through his entire body, straight down to the tips of his fingers, "I am finally happy…"
**
One Year Later…
Harry threw a laugh to the warm sun as he tore through the sky, wind tearing at his dark hair, racing through the large, empty field and followed closely by an annoyed blonde.
"Potter, you dirty cheat!" Draco was screaming as he tried to catch the Auror, "You think you can do something like that and get away with it?" he laughed again, thinking it served the blonde right to have some of his own Slytherin tactics used against him once and a while. The game of Quidditch had been suggested by Charlie Weasley, a competitive gleam in his eye, of which Harry and Draco had take up enthusiastically, joined by both Percy and Bill, all of whom had been staying with Molly at the Burrow for the summer. Everyone had wanted the blonde on their side, mostly just to tease Harry so he had drawn his lover into a heated kiss before taking off after the Snitch, giving himself an unfair advantage. Yeah, it had been underhanded but it was worth it, seeing everyone's wide eyed reactions.
It had been a year since the flames had consumed the place he had called home. The spell that had been directed at Draco had nearly hit him square in the back and as it was, it had been a close call but Ron had leaped forward at the last minute, shoving the blonde out of the way and taking the brunt of the spell himself. Luckily it had not been intended to kill but to maim, leaving the Auror crippled from the waist down. The wizard that had been behind the Pureblood attacks had been captured a few days later only to be found dead in his cell the next day. Harry never asked Draco about that and the blonde never brought it up. He had gone to his friend while he had been in the hospital to thank him for saving his lover yet when he had asked what had changed the red head's mind, the blue eyes had looked right at him and said, "There has been enough hate to last me three life times. I'm sorry I was so blind," and that was all. To this day Ron wouldn't say exactly why he had pushed the former Slytherin out of the spell's path, just murmuring something about not making a very good Auror if he hadn't but from that day one, Draco had declared the red head his friend. Harry was still surprised at how well they seemed to get on sometimes. He was just glad to have his friend back.
"Harry, look out!" Bill's voice cracked through the field just in time to warn him of the Bludger rocketing at his head, no doubt spelled at him by an irate blonde. He ducked just in time, pulling away in a complicated spin. It was exhilarating to be on a broom again and they played into the late afternoon, their shouts and good natured insults filling the wide open space. He had been amazed at how well the Weasleys had taken to the blonde Malfoy but they had lost too much, he supposed, to pass up the opportunity to accept more members to their family. And they were family, all of them.
The call for dinner drew them out of the skies, not quite sure who had won, but all laughing and joking together none the less. Molly stood behind the spelled chair Ron used to get around, hands on her hips as she watched their antics as they blew in from the field.
"I hope you at least kicked Harry's ass this time, Malfoy," Ron demanded as they all trooped into the house, Harry making an offended sound as everyone snickered, someone jostling him with a hand clap to his back.
"Traitor!" he accused as Molly chastised her sons as they pushed and shoved each other trying to get to the table first. Harry was about to follow when a hand caught him, pulling him back into the cluttered hall. Grey eyes shone at him from behind the elegant fall of silver hair as the blonde wrapped his arms around the dark haired man's neck, the press of his slender body warm and sending thrills of desire shooting through his body.
"That was a nasty trick, Potter," he said around a smile, "Rather Slytherin of you," Harry laughed was Ron made a disgusted noise, propelling the chair through the door and leaving them alone. Emerald eyes glittered with amusement as he slid his hands into the thick blonde hair, still loving the heavy feel of it wrapped around his fingers even after all this time.
"You haven't even seen the half of it," he murmured before drawing the other man into a hard kiss. Draco pushed him away with a snort and a roll of his eyes, turning and following the rest of the Weasleys into the kitchen. Harry bit his lip to stall his happy grin, running his fingers through his hair. And when he entered the kitchen, he was arrested by the sight of the blonde at the table with the five red heads, helping Hermione who had come to live with them after Ron's accident set the food out on the table. There was no awkwardness, no hesitation, no hatred. Everyone was family here, to be fussed over by Molly, bossed around by Hermione, become the brunt of the jokes made by both Bill and Charlie.
And then Draco turned to him where he stood in the doorway and smiled, beautiful features open, and the expression took his breath away. Right then he knew that wherever this man was, that was his home. Like a star knocked loose from the heavens, the silvery light filled his veins until he was sure he was glowing, almost painful as it pulsed through him. Everything he had done, every hurt and loss he had suffered, he would do it all again for this moment right here, this peace that had come with their love.
He would do it all again if it meant that Draco would be his forever…
~fin~
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