Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J. K. Rowling is the amazing creator and author.

…

I'll see you soon (Firsts)

Summary: Harry and Draco are sent on a mission to capture a former Death Eater hiding in Gringotts, however the mission soon grows deadly as Draco's left wandless and Harry doesn't see the wand pointed at his back. They never knew this mission would be their last. In two parts.

Part 1:

Draco sails through the air, landing on a mound of rocks broken off from the ceilings and walls caused by a haywire of spells and deliberate bombarda's in hopes to bury them alive. His head falls back on a rugged corner, and he hears a crack at the base of his skill, a high pitch ringing resonating in his head blocking out any other sound. He grunts from the pain, his vision dimming and turning black… He can't pass out, not here. He opens his eyes and lifts his head gingerly, bringing his dust covered hand shakily to feel the back of his head, cursing when blood coats his fingers and looks about at the unrelenting battle. He's too vulnerable as his wand lies a few metres away, and the traitors aren't showing any sign of surrendering. His legs failing him, he promptly returns to the pile as a wave of vertigo washes over. He turns to the side and empties his stomach, wiping a hand across his mouth as black spots cover his vision. He tries again and looks up, noticing Harry's stopped fighting and is looking at him concerned.

Draco freezes, wanting to point out his idiocy at being an open target, but relaxes noticing the shimmer of a shield, of course he's not undefended. Not like him. Draco knows Harry will try to come over even though he's single-handedly fighting most of the opposition, their attention drawn to him since he's the strongest wizard there and needs to be eliminated if they've any chance of escaping. Draco stands successfully this time and tries to look uninjured walking towards his wand, that's when he notices it's in two pieces. His face must convey his fear as he notices Harry turn towards him. He watches as the assailants double over in pain clutching their ears, he must have cast the Shrieking charm he created; a noise higher than a mandrake's screams penetrating their brains. He notices blood trickling out of some of their ears.

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry doesn't even flinch when his wand leaves his hand as before it's gone too far he thrusts out his arm calling it back and fires another round of spells. Draco knows the plan; if one of them is severely hurt or in mortal danger, they return to the house warding it and wait to hear from the other by patronus. He knows he won't be able to reach a Floo unprotected and knows Harry knows it too. He attempts to get closer to Harry keeping low and out of fire. He casts a shield as rubble rains on him, grateful that they've both been practising wandless magic for years, mainly trying to better themselves as wizards and be prepared for any situation. He manages to deflect spells and more showers of rock as he sticks to the edges, casting deprimo at anyone who's too near. Thudding like a hundred drums reverberates inside his head, the pain draws his attention from his shield and it fluctuates as does his ability to stay upright. He leans against the cold damp wall, darkness clawing at the edges of his mind, wanting to drag him into unconsciousness, away from the pain and peril. He falls to his knees, not sure where he's been hit as pain radiates in all his muscles form exhaustion but at least he's still alive, just managing to protect himself from reducto.

He sends out incendio, watching with amusement as flames engulf his attackers and leans to the side groaning as the large use of energy brings him closer to fainting. It's his magic that's primarily keeping him functioning as is; much like a second life force which preserves magical people as they exceed their physical limitations. Harry's roughly four feet away, he must stay conscious until he has an opportunity to reach him. Resting his head against the wall, the stone cools his blazing head. He's forgotten the stickiness running down his neck for the past 15 minutes, the ache in his legs and pain behind his eyes as familiar yellow hair catches his attention.

Yaxley.

His vision blurs as he strains to fight his body, he must stay awake and protect Harry. He watches Yaxley raise his wand still trying to stay concealed behind the man-made rock hill and his heart stops. Harry's in the line of fire and there's no way he'll be able to counter whatever curse he produces. Draco panics, adrenaline surging through his body as he emerges from the shadows. Ignoring that he's indefensible and injured, knowing that yelling to him will be no good through the constant explosions as he rushes to his partner's side. Yaxley sends off the curse and Draco just manages to stand with his back to Harry's, facing the spell. It spreads through him and he collapses, lifeless.

...

They live comfortably since Harry has more money than sense and Malfoy was made Keeper of his family fortune, so after dating for 2 years they moved to a charming two-bedroom house in Oxford, not isolated but far enough from urban life that they have their privacy.

They weren't expecting to be called in.

An owl wakes them tapping on the window. Not many people know of this house, but he calms when he notices the seal is from the Ministry and that it says it's been forwarded to him by Hermione. His mail is sent to The Burrow and she knows of his want for a life outside the public eye, and kindly forwards his important letters the day they arrive, leaving general mail until he collects it at the weekend. Harry takes the letter from the owl's beak, stroking her silky feathers and hands her a coin from the pouch to the left of the burgundy curtains before she stretches she wings and flies away. Harry stays standing at the window, starting to open the letter until he hears movement from the bed and looks up to see his tired partner sitting on his knees with his arms up in silent invitation to return to bed. Harry smiles at the gesture and moves back into bed, letting Draco's arms circle him as he rests on his chest content again. Draco rests a hand on his back, glancing at the raven-hair obscuring the face of the man beneath him with a small smile on his lips. Harry raises the letter into the air and let's it go; it begins to read itself aloud as it hovers.

Auror Potter,
We have located Corban Yaxley in the deepest level of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. We are certain he has sent for reinforcements before our arrival resulting in a likely ambush.
I am aware that it is your day off and you will be recompensed for your time.
Please arrive at 9am.
(Signed) Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic

Draco tenses at the mention of the Death Eater, the man still rightfully striking fear into him all these years later. He sighs not wanting to leave the warmth of their bed but his duty replaces his own desires, he knows must check whether he has a letter too. Picking up his wand he casts lumos and stands, searching for his clothes as his courteous upbringing makes him refuse to apparate in just his boxers, something Harry has done on many occasions much to his entertainment. He picks up a well-loved jumper with holes in parts and threads fraying from the pile of clothes by their bed. Now this is a definite screw you to his strict upbringing, the idea of wearing anything with so much as a thread loose let alone adorning holes, would turn his parents stomach.

He passes the window on his way to the chest of drawers storing their pyjamas, not that they're ever worn as light hits the crimson material and he immediately recognises it as Harry's. Draco smiles, bringing the sleeves to his nose as he breaths in the comforting smell. He slides on a pair of grey plaid trousers and heads to the door, leaving the room with a yawn as he walks down the stairs.

He passes the mixture of moving and unmoving photos hanging on the wall, the motionless ones still creeping him out, as he heads into the kitchen, routinely filling the kettle and takes out their favourite mugs from the cupboard. Harry's reads 'Bed hair, don't care' and his reads 'Warning: Grumpy when woken'. Harry brought it after they forgot to duplicate the coffee jar and consequently ran out. Draco was a moody git for hours, even returning to calling him by his surname as he stropped in his caffeine-less stupor. Harry didn't know whether to feel worried, shocked or amused at how something simple like ground beans can reign in the monster of his past self. 3 strong cups of tea and a shag in the shower later, he finally had his partner unwound.

Saturday is continental day. It's a tradition he's kept since childhood; it being started thanks to an Italian nanny, and is now incorporated into their weekly routine. He mixes cocoa powder and sugar together in a small saucepan, stirring milk into it the dry ingredients until the sugar has dissolved. He loves cooking on Saturdays, it's calming and enjoyable. He keeps it on a low heat; letting it simmer before whisking in 2 tablespoons of cornstarch. He continually whisks the cocoa mixture, until the hot chocolate thickens. Perfect. He inhales the sweet, heavenly aroma and checks the time. 7:30am. The freshly-baked croissants will arrive by floo at 8am, thanks to their liaison in Claudette's bakery in Paris after solving one of their strangest cases where the owner was charged for murder by muggle police.

Placing their drink under a warming charm, he pulls on a pair of black converse, unlocks the wooden door and walks to the end of the drive where the wards end and he can apparate.
He arrives at the Manor looking about the dust covered mansion. He doesn't like going back to his childhood home, the nice memories having been overridden by the month's pain endured here during the Dark Lords reign. His mother hadn't wanted to live there after the war, she moved to France instead while his father rotted in Azkaban. He'd stopped blaming Harry for his incarceration, Harry never made him support the Dark Lord and he knew, much like himself, he was doing what he had to do to survive. Some days he thinks of cleaning the abode, returning it to its beautiful splendour but that would pain him more than its current dilapidated state. He continues down the large, empty hall, his footsteps echoing against the bare walls as he heads to the window where owls leave the mail. He checks the pouch of coins which he's enchanted to go to owls own pouch and adds a few more galleons and sickles before he turns to the pile of letters, sifting through to find the latest one.

Without another thought to his old life he returns to their house, only having been gone 4 minutes but it felt like a lifetime and closes the door. He finishes pouring their drinks, placing them on a tray before collecting the pastries from the fire place and walks upstairs. Draco smiles warmly at a shirtless Harry, his head resting on his arms behind his head as he watches him enter. Draco raises and eyebrow at him and he gets the message, vanishing his clothes so he's back in just his boxers as he levitates the tray over them while he climbs back under the duvet. Harry plays mother, lowering the tray so he can open the box of treats, humming in delight at the smell that fills the room. The sound warms Draco's heart and he's tempted to just screw his job and screw Harry instead. Knowing he can't, he opens the letter and scans the contents. It reads the same. They usually don't go on missions together. They prefer it that way, they can focus on their task without being distracted on the safety of the other. He folds the letter and places it on the side table. They finish their breakfast in silence as the mission weighs on their minds.

"I thought they already had Yaxley in custody." Draco asks, rubbing his eyes and rests on Harry's chest. Harry automatically puts an arm around him.

"I was told 2 weeks ago that he escaped, Kingsley's still not sure how."

"You didn't say."

"You know I'd have told you if I could." Harry places kiss on his hair. He sighs, he does know.

They have zero secrets between them, only relating work on a need to know basis.
They need to be there in an hour so get up and shower. They usually do separately but the air is thick with worry of how the mission will go. Finally, they dress. Harry looks approvingly at Draco's fitted form, and the blond notices his looking. They still appreciate the little things even though they've been together for years and seen each other undress just as many times. They move to the front door.

"Remember the plan?" Harry asks and Draco nods, quickly pulling Harry into a hug. Harry hugs back tightly, just as emotional.

He knew today was going to be a challenge. He never expected it'd be their last.

...

Harry feels the bump of a body behind him and whirls around ready to shrug off his attacker - Merlin no. Everything slows as he watches green ripple through the blond's body, glowing brightest on his heart through his marked shirt before disappearing(change) as he stares up unseeing...

"Draco?" He can't stop the word slipping from his lips, confused as to why the man is suddenly lying motionless by his feet and not relatively safe a few feet away. He turns to the direction the spell came from, catching a figure scaling down the tower of rubble behind which they were previously hiding.

"Imperio." He casts, his voice eerily cold that even Dementors wouldn't near him. 'Of course, it'd be him.' He thinks recognising the figure.

"Hit your head on the rocks until I say stop." He commands distantly, watching the man thrust his head onto the stone, watching his face darken and bloody. Although he's brought no joy or sense of satisfaction at the brutality, it is not a reason for him to cease the curse. The Aurors and Death Eaters continue fighting, unaware of the dark development and that the battle ended moments ago. As did Harry's life. A single tear rolls down his cheek.

"Stop."

Yaxley looks up, blood pouring down the middle of his forehead, getting into his eyes and mouth. It must burn. Harry thinks and smiles, at last, enjoying his suffering. Harry's blood continues to boil and he pockets his wand, feeling that there's too much magic for him to channel through the item which would result in its impairment. He looks at the yellow hair, simply waving his hand as Yaxley's body rises into the air above him keeping him straight like a plank. He looks down again and before he realises another curse has left his lips. Heh hears strangled screams as people around him drop, the cruciatus curse clawing over them like a thousand knives. His magic feels between the good and bad, not harming those on his side.

His fury and grief overwhelms him and he yells, sending out a wave of wild magic like an atom bomb as a cloud of dust and magic sweeps through them, killing every enemy but Yaxley. Using wandless magic can make you unpredictable, unstable, but he finds it allows you to be free, making you able to perform acts at a mere thought. It gives you no time to regret. He casts immobilus and incarceous, dropping the killer in front of Kingsley and moves his eyes back to Draco's body. It's a trick, he'll move in a minute.

...

"I'm not going to beg Potter!" Draco says grumpily, refusing to indulge his old rival. Harry laughs walking back to his mahogany desk and sits on the edge. He's the youngest Auror ever recorded, accepting the job at age 18.

"It'll help your case." Harry tries to say with a straight-face, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

"As if they'd think a Malfoy would beg. I'd be taken to St Mungos!" Harry laughs more almost falling off the desk. Draco sends a discreet hex and laughs as he does fall off. He looks up with a playful grin and stands.

"Attacking an Auror, how daring." Harry says rubbing his back. Draco shrugs hiding his smile.

"You had it coming."

He knows Harry would never report him. He'd always made sure he was ok throughout the trials and after. Ensuring whoever sent him death threats were seen to. He never asked how he got them to stop but he hasn't received another letter, jinx or cursed item since their public interaction/friendship. It was so sickening that Potter still tried to save him at every problem but he was grateful he had someone to rely on when the rest of the world was still against him and his family.

"So, let's go over this again." Harry says picking up the large rule book for Aurors and Draco moves to stand next to him.

Section 152: Apprentices. An Auror is allowed an apprentice of his or her choice. The potential candidate must have completed their NEWTS or equivalent (see chapter on foreign exchange). Once selected you must get the Minister's approval...the individual can remain with you for up to 12 months where they will be assessed for a position at the Ministry after this time.

…

Harry had checked in on Draco from time to time after the trial. He'd refused to let him hide away in the mansion when he spent so long planning what to say to keep him free and continued to face the backlash of his action.

"What if he doesn't approve?" Draco asks.

"Then I'll quit."

"You know you're not my shadow, right?"

Harry tends to use his importance to get around people; threatening to leave the Ministry even though they need him. True, he rarely uses it, but every time he does, it has something to do with Draco. He refuses to let the answer be no. Draco's noticed this and doesn't know what to make of it. He puts it down to Harry's need to help but he doesn't use it with anyone else.

Harry got Draco the job in his office through an ancient clause. He asked for an apprentice, they said he could have anyone and chose him knowing he'd always wanted to be an Auror. At first, they objected, talking about dignity and how others at the Ministry would feel but they relented. Harry would go on about his OWLs, changed personality and that he should be given a chance to live his life.

As they were around each other a lot; sometimes even the last people in the department, they got to know each other a lot. Eventually they got talking about relationships. Draco had never wanted an arranged marriage; after the war, he didn't care about being a pureblood. His family name was in ruins anyway and without his father's insistence, his mother hadn't put up much of a fight when he objected. Harry and Ginny had remained together after the war but he just grew distant, always being at the office and nightmares detaching him from society and consequently her. He knew he was struggling to handle everything and she wasn't bitter when they split. They remained friends.

Harry walks into his office, holding a cup of strong coffee and looking like he hasn't slept. Draco dumps files on his desk, pulling a face at his unkempt appearance.

"Are you ill?" He questions,

"No, just not sober enough." Harry replies, shielding his eyes from the light.

"Why didn't you take a hangover potion?" Draco asks, moving to his bag to get a potion.

"Ran out last weekend." Harry utters and ungracefully plops into his chair.

"Where'd you go?" The general conversion had increased between them, and more surprising is that they actually paid attention to the other. Harry mentions a gay bar he visits in muggle London. It turns out Draco's been there too.

"Did you meet Mitch?" Draco asks, an amused look on his face.

"That guy who flirts with anything that moves?" Harry says, matching his tone.

"Yeah. Well mostly new comers."

"You should come out with me some time." Harry offers.

"Sounds good."

After visiting the club, they engaged out of work more frequently, surprised that they share so many interests. A month after that, Harry asked out Draco.

"So, I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me this Saturday?"

"Sure, where to?" Draco replies, mistaking his question for another meetup.

"No, I mean on a date."

"Oh. Ok, yes."

Harry's face lights up, not expected an answer so quickly and Draco smiles too.

At last Saturday comes around, and with it their first date. Harry takes him to a restaurant with class, hoping to appeal to his sophisticated nature. He lets Draco pick the wine since he knows more about such things and just hopes he doesn't mess up the evening through saying something stupid or spilling something on his clothes.

The restaurant is filled with a range of people, varying from ornately dressed women in tight bodycon dresses and men in black suits to some couple's in jeans. They're dressed in smart casual; Harry wears a pair of blue jeans, a white tee and a navy blazer. He tried to tame his hair, managing to get most of it off his face and rest in one direction. Draco wears a white button down shirt, with a red jumper on top revealing the collar and cuffs and a pair of black trousers.

"You look nice. Not that you don't usually – and not that I look –" Harry sighs and turns red, leaning his head on his hand in resignation that he'll never be able to talk fluidly around someone he likes. The awful memory of the time he dribbled water in front of Cho Chang when he was crushing on her surfaces, and he hopes nothing like that happens today.

"Thank you, you do too." Draco replies and smirks at Harry's nervousness, finding it quite endearing, and Harry smiles, grateful that he's familiar with his ramblings. Their first course arrives and the evening starts properly. They talk continuously, unsurprisingly easy and comfortable since they've known each other for years; they converse about work, previous dates and Draco comments on Harry's choice of restaurant. It surprised him that Harry knew of such a high-dining establishment, so Harry started deliberately slurping his wine until Draco kicked him under the table.

"Forever classy, Potter." He scorned with a roll of his eyes, feigning annoyance but he has never had a more amusing evening.

"Always." Harry replies grinning, and ignores the urge to rub his sore leg. They laugh, probably too loudly, as they compare muggles to different creatures, as well as likely breaking the 'The International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy' as they roll with laughter after noticing one woman with rather large ears reminds Harry of a Cornish pixie. Finally, they finish dessert, Harry pays, making sure to tip the waiter and they leave.

They walk down an alley out of sight and apparate to a park, on the way to Draco's apartment. They remain in conversation until they arrive at Draco's abode. They look into the other's eyes, the street lamp barely illuminating their faces. They're close enough to kiss but Harry doesn't make a move, going over some of the customs Draco was discussing in the restaurant when they were talking of past dates. You never touch on a first date. Malfoy has exclusively dated purebloods so tonight's experience has already been something new. Draco looks away and smiles softly, the warm air ruffling his hair and he reaches out, squeezing Harry's hand then lets it go.

"Good night Harry." He walks up the steps and unlocks the door.

"Night Draco." Harry smiles, watching him enter and turns to apparate to his own flat. He can't help but grin as Draco broke the rule, he held his hand. It's not until he enters his flat he realises that they said each other's first names for the first time.

...

Note: Second half will be out next week Saturday :) in the interim, feel free to check out my other Drarry stories!

Thanks for reading, any feedback is appreciated x