Edge of Bastogne, 1946…………….
Draco Le'Celiona stepped out of the jeep, lugging his pack over his shoulders before facing his escort. His godfather Major Severus Snape helped him out in more ways than one; he saluted him Severus returned it.
"Thank you for this Sev."
"No Problem." Severus tosses him a pack. "Take care of yourself."
Draco stuffed the pack into his coat, before pulling up his collar and pushing down his hat, he watched as he drove away disappearing into the blackened snow. The war has gone on for another year; after Hitler shot himself in a bunker another took his place, an SS Major a lot worse than Hitler he didn't use propaganda like Hitler he ruled with an iron fist both literally and figuratively. It was what trademarked him Yericho"Iron Fist" Smievez losing his hand in a stint against the Russians in Stalingrad, he commissioned a blacksmith to fashion him a fist of iron. Anyone that spoke out against him even as joke was taken out into the public along with their family and massacred in front of everyone, certainly didn't the hide the extermination of all traitors and non-Germans in fact he broadcasted all over Europe which he controlled except France and England, even Italy having taking out Mussolini and destroyed the Vatican the Italians that were able to escape were now on their side. He tucked his hands under his pits as he walked through the maelstrom of snow, spying the tree burst and climbing over leveled trees, this area was the last pocket of Germans in France and it was very hard getting them out and more them was being sent in, soon they will be overrun something the allied command did not seem to understand.
"Halt!"
Draco froze; a jeep sped towards him before skidding to a stop, with the grill nearly touching his sternum and machine gun pointed down at him.
"Hands on your head, lock your fingers." Draco complied. "Turn around."
Draco turned around; he heard light footfalls from behind him, before he felt hands on his shoulder, then under his arms and down his torso. "Spread your legs!" Draco spread his legs and immediately jumped when that hand grasped him between. "Easy. Jumping gets you shot." Draco endured the uncomfortableness of the hands there, the hands moved to his inner thighs and lower before checking his pocket, pulling out his ID. His hands slipped into his coat, feeling around till he found his all silver twin colt pistols.
"Looky here boys. Aren't they pretty?"
Draco heard a thunk as his pistols were put on the hood of the jeep; the hand went into his coat again and pulled out the pack Severus gave him.
"What's this?"
"Part of my medical supplies completely safe."
He heard the man open it, the clinking of the glass vials as he examined them.
"Looks like potions, you a wizard or something?"
"I wish."
"Put your hands down and turn around."
He turned he fought down the blush, as he saw the man before him, a very handsome, dark haired man with emerald jeweled eyes, and pale skin, a foot shorter than him, dressed in all white uniform, white helmet, and spray painted white rifle, he looked at his ID and read it out loud.
"Draco Le'Celiona , Medic. Tank Division."
"Yes Sergeant."
"Harry please, use that title only in mixed company." He told him. "Sorry about the thoroughness of the search but it is essential, a German walked into our lines as our medic, poisoned some of my men and planted explosives in one of the tanks. Luckily we figured him out before he could execute his plan"
"Are the men okay?"
"They can't be shipped to the Aids Station so there's a chance they'll die."
"I can fix them."
"Can you?" he asked with a raised disbelieving eyebrow.
"Yes just get me to them."
"Okay let's go."
Draco gathered his things and got in the jeep, it took five minutes to get to the site. Harry took him to the sick men they were arranged in an isolated spot with four other guards watching over them. The hands on their rifles tightened upon sight of him.
"At ease boys, he's legit I made sure of it."
They didn't relax but moved away a bit, Draco examined them before going into his pack and pulling out a vial with pale blue liquid in it and fed it to them. They all instantly sat up and began vomiting vile black liquid.
"Draco what's going on? What's wrong with them?"
"The toxins are being removed from their systems."
After the vomiting the color to their skin returned and the marking from the poisoning disappearing.
"Seamus, Neville, Dean how do you feel?"
"I feel bloody great Captain." Answered Seamus in his usual charming flamboyant Irish brogue.
"Sergeant. Seamus."
"Well they should make you a fucking Captain all ready."
"Language Seamus."
"Sorry Cap."
Harry rolled his eyes at his Celtic friend. "Dean how do you feel?" Dean an African American with dreadlocks just gave him a thumbs up. "Neville?"
"I-I'm okay Sarge."
"Good I want to introduce your Savior, Draco Le'Celiona our actual Medic."
"Nice to meet you sweetheart." Greeted Seamus. "Got a hometown to that pretty face?" Draco blushed at the outright flirtation. "Oh my he's blushing; I do love it when they blush."
"Tone it down Seamus before you scare him away." Harry intervened before turning to Draco. "You'll get used to Seamus, he's a bonafide homo and is not afraid to hide it."
"I'm here, I'm queer you don't like it then suck it." Yelled Seamus.
"It's cool." Said Draco. "I'm in the same boat just caught me off guard that's all."
"Hey with me, doesn't matter if you're gay, straight, black, white, Jewish or whatever, fighting for your country, your rights, your freedom has no barriers or lines."
Seamus stands up and hugs Harry. "He's our righteous little teddy bear."
"Since you're up, you and Dean can get back to your patrol." Harry smirked. "Neville you go report to your tank leader."
Suddenly a loud pop sounded, that's when Harry started yelling. "Artillery take cover!"
