The idea of this fic came from a really, really weird dream – and I'm not even sure if I'm going on with it anyway.
It was the night of the Halloween and, as usual, the Ministry of Magic was empty.
Since the Samhain was the only actual holiday of the wizard calendar - all the others were Christian (or religious in general) -, most people stayed at home, preparing their feasts; well, most of them, but not all. Harry Potter, for one, was still on the surroundings of the old building - in his own office, to be more precise.
Halloween was an important date for Harry. Not only it marked the day Lily and James Potter sacrificed their lives for their son, so many years ago, but the day Ginny said "yes" for him in the altar. Arthur and Molly reunited all the non-students Weasleys at the Burrow for a celebration with jack o' lanterns and candies and a voice in the back of Harry's mind kept reminding him that he stayed any longer, he would be late.
But then other voice, much less subtitle, made sure that he focused his attention in things other than his family.
You see, there was a reason Harry was at the Ministry at that time of the night, with his trousers in the floor and his nails craving the wood of his own desk - and that reason was no other than Draco Malfoy.
With so much to do in the recent days, now that someone decided it would be funny to go around spreading Dark Marks over buildings, crying wolf, added with the fact that Ron had been over his shoulder with a suspicious look more often than usual, there wasn't much time for them to get together, so to speak. That night, under the excuse that they both had "a lot of paperwork to solve", was the only night in over two months when they managed to get a room by themselves.
And yes, it wasn't that much comfortable, but considering all those times against the door of the bathroom of the second floor, it could be worse.
Harry had his legs firmly around the blonde man's hips, his free hand running down Draco's chest. He was so concentrated - trying to hold himself as much as he could so they'd finish together - it took him a second or two to notice Draco had stopped.
"What?" he asked, with a frustrated look. Malfoy had moved away, with a puzzled expression; he seemed to be listening to something, but not exactly sure of what. Draco did not answer - he just put his pants back and left the room.
Harry left out an audible sigh and did the same, following him. He knew there was something wrong, because as weird as Malfoy was, he wasn't the kind of person to just leave someone with blue balls to follow imaginary voices.
No, that sounded more like the kind of thing Harry would do.
Except... except the voices weren't imaginary. Harry noticed, as he followed Draco to the elevator, that there was actually a murmur there, not louder than a whisper, but definitely there. He had heard something like that before, but where?
Draco apparently knew, because he led them to the deeper levels of the Ministry - to the Department of Mysteries, to be more precise. Harry had a hunch that maybe the voices (that sounded for him just like indistinguishable noises) were driving Draco; he didn't even hesitated when they got to the cross-road, choosing the precise door for the next room.
The room of the veil.
The sound became louder as they approached the arch. The curtains were moving without wind, blowing it back and forth with some ferocity. Harry tried to hold Draco back, but his hand slipped and they both almost fell. He feared Draco would try to cross it, but much for his surprise, he just stood there, in front of it, with an expressionless face.
That was when Harry noticed the mark in Draco's pulse - something that, until minutes before, was just a ugly scar, but now looked exactly like it had been twenty and three years before.
Before Harry could say something about it, however, the veil moved again and something - a tall, dirty figure - crawled out of it. Tripping on his own legs, the man grabbed Draco by the arm, his long fingers running up Malfoy's face. Harry didn't have to look twice to know who that was.
"Sirius?" he asked, his voice dying on his throat. The man turned his hand just enough to see him and Black's eyes became wide. Sirius pushed Draco aside, trying to reach Harry, his legs giving up on the process.
"Harry..." he tried to say, breathless. "Oh God, Harry... we have to leave... now!"
But the time for warnings was gone. The veil fell off and, through the arch, other figures started to move out.
And none of them was exactly pleased.