"This is my punishment, then?" Draco looked Harry up and down, taking the sight if him in before clearing his throat. "Sitting here with you?"

Harry reclined back with a thump, nursing a bottle of stale muggle beer. A smirk crossed his lips as the drink was pulled from his mouth. "Does this look like a punishment?" His voice was soft, blending in with the murmur of drunken voices in the bar.

Draco crossed his arms in annoyance, his eyes narrowing in Harry's direction. "No, it rather looks like a date."

Harry sputtered, coughing on the liquid he had tipped into his mouth before dragging the back of his hand across his lips. "If this was a date you'd know it. I would never subject a significant other to…well, this." He gestured at their surroundings, the rings the dotted the tables, the crumb littered floor.

"Then what are we waiting for?" The words came out as a growl. He'd had plans for tonight, ones he'd been forced to cancel to spend the evening in a dodgy bar with Potter of all people. Although, he couldn't help his lingering gaze, it'd been years since he'd seen Potter let loose. The Ministry overworked him, he'd become too tightly wound and brusque as a result.

His muggle jeans fit him nicely. He was no longer swimming in fabric, having somehow grown up in clothes that were too big for him. His shirt was perhaps a little too tight, but Draco wasn't about to complain.

He realized his question had been met with silence and he drew his attention back to the pub, focusing on Harry's face rather than the curiosity of what lay beneath.

His brow had twitched inward, watching Draco carefully, his lips flattened into something resembling a frown. "Unimportant." Harry sneered, bringing back Draco's answer from days before. The amber colored bottle was returned to the table with a thud, the contents having been emptied. "Why don't you tell me instead what you were doing at Azkaban?"

Draco shuddered at the thought, the cold. The black water that surrounded the prison was icy, the edges that lapped the bank frozen in frost. The drop in temperature had wormed its way beneath his cloak, causing him to shiver in the shadows cast by the dementors above. "I think you know." He glowered finally, unable to meet the eyes that reminded him of the first day of spring.

"I do." Harry sympathized. "But, I still need you to say it."

His eyes remained fixed on the laminate table that should have been replaced years ago. He knew he was lucky, he had expected a firing for what he had done, not a night out. As much as he hated to admit it, Harry bloody Potter had control over his life, his career. "I wasn't trying to break them out. I'm not stupid." A barely suppressed scoff came from across the table and he clenched his fist. "I just had to see for myself."

"And what were you doing there in the first place? During your shift?"

"Dorkins."

"The creature smuggler?"

Draco nodded. "The North Sea is supposed to hold a new breed of kelpie" He shrugged, trying to pass of the situation as something minor though he knew it wasn't. "I got curious."

Harry's mouth was twisted to the site, contemplating Draco's words. His brow was lowered in suspicion and when he spoke, the words were sounded slowly. "And you decided a memory charm on the guard would be a wise idea?"

"I almost didn't show you the slip at all." He chuckled, trying to lighten the heavy mood. If this wasn't his punishment, then what was?

"This isn't a laughing matter, Malfoy. You could be fired for this."

"That's your decision, then? Termination?"

"We'll see how tonight goes." He gave a jerk of his head, indicating to the door that had swung open during their conversation, to the man seated at the bar.

Draco squinted across the room, eyes falling on equally unrecognizable heads. He opened his mouth to question Harry when he caught a shift of movement, a wand. He followed the arm up to it's owner. Scruff dotted the man's chin, a short, well trimmed beard hanging from his face. His hair was a dark mahogany, cut short against his head. "Theodore?" He whispered, mainly to himself. He hadn't seen the man in years.

"We've been tracking him." Harry chimed in, answering the question that had begun to form in Draco's mind. "He comes here every Saturday, 7:36 PM on the dot."

"Why?"

"That's what were trying to find out. You're father hated anyone that wasn't of pureblood or acted like it, did he not?" Draco snapped back to face harry, an unexpected and nearly forgotten anger burning inside of him. Harry must've noticed the barely suppressed rage, giving a tiny shake of his head. "Calm down, Malfoy. All I'm saying is guys like Nott learned they could get lost in a muggle crowd because of people like Lucius Malfoy."

His fingers clenched again at the impermissible use of his father's name. Only when his own fingernails began to dig into his flesh did he stop, focusing instead on the words still coming from Potter's mouth.

"…went missing. We think he's connected."

"What?"

Using his pointer finger, Harry slid his circular glasses farther up his nose. It was then that Draco noticed the deep lines beneath his eyes, the exhaustion. Something in him had dulled, been snuffed out. The vibrancy he had once hated so much was gone, replaced by faded desire. Guilt welled up within him. He intentionally made Potter's life harder. "That's all this is then? Tracking?" He forced the words, desperate for the conversation to move forward.

"That depends."

"You keep saying that.

"It does." He shrugged as if the reasoning was obvious. He lifted the bottle in example, speaking again. "Did you not notice that no one has asked if I'd like another? That we haven't been visited by a waitress?"

No. He hadn't. But, it was true. No one shot them even an accidental glance. It was like they weren't even there

"They can't see us, they can't hear us. I'd like to keep it that way if Nott over there behaves."

"Why don't you arrest him? Put an end to this? If he's truly the perpetrator-"

"And if he's not?" Harry intervened. "I can't arrest him for sitting, minding his own business. I'll land my own ass in trouble and yours right along with it."

"Then what's the importance of coming here?"

"Waiting for him to do something. I think this may be part of his alibi, but I can't be sure."

Xxxx

Draco pulled back the long, black sleeve of his shirt, glancing at the watch on his wrist. They'd been here an hour, doing little but twiddle their thumbs and send each other the occasional awkward glance. They'd run out of topics to discuss long ago and we're left in the sour smelling pub. The sweat of it's occupants seemed as much apart of the place as the wooden boards and alcohol. Draco had the intense desire to scrub himself clean.

"Why do you wear that? It's July." Harry blurted, his words unwelcome. It had taken him long enough to say something, to point out the long sleeves in the sweltering heat. Draco could feel beads of sweat wetting the back of his neck, his hair.

He'd grown used to the unnecessary warmth a jumper provided, no longer disturbed by it as he had been in the beginning, but his nerves were beginning to grate on him. There were far too many people occupying the establishment, too many loud voices, too many clatters of glass as bottles were exchanged. The dew building on him had little to do with his attire any more. He was almost provoked to do something to Nott, to get himself out of here.

"You know why." He shot a glance at his left arm incase Potter was as daft now as he'd been at Hogwarts. The mark was now every much a part of him as the mole on his shoulder. Unwanted, unsightly, but there just the same. Even if it had faded to little more than a scar, he knew it was there.

Harry said nothing, puckering his lips instead, hopefully realizing that his curiosity had been unwarranted. Draco didn't push it.

He stood abruptly, smacking his knee on the underside of the table, seeing Harry's long ago emptied bottle to the floor with a shatter. Harry was right behind him, his eye having caught the same motion. Nott was leaving.

Harry's wand was in his hand before Draco could even question where he kept it. He followed suit. During his time at the auror office, he had filed mostly paperwork. Dorkins was his first case, and he'd likely screwed that up. His body flooded with excitement at the prospect of action, a part of his life that had once been ordinary but had dwindled ever since. He realized – as he weaved after Harry, around far too many drunken patrons – that he was also interested in seeing Harry fight.

Harry had fought off the Dark Lord before he could even speak, had killed people before he could properly hold a wand. His activities were well whispered in the school, but they remained mostly that. Draco only remembered the scene of him antagonizing Snape – failing – after the murder of Dumbledore. He'd witnessed little of Harry's final fight with the Dark Lord, his family having fled, and that had been that. He would never admit that Potter had intimidated him, that his own skills were lacking, but maybe, just this once, they could fight alongside each other.

Draco skidded to a halt nearly crashing into Harry who had paused in his footsteps unexpectedly. They had followed Nott out the door and down a sidewalk, peering into an alleyway. He and Harry were obscured by shadows, out of sight if Theodore should happen to look their way.

Another man approached, equally hidden by the night and the imposing buildings. Whispers of rage could be heard, drifting between the brick that surrounded them, but their words were obscured by distance

"You don't have a blasted pair of Extendable Ears, do you?" Harry hissed into the night, his voice lost by passing cars. Draco made a show of patting his very few pockets before shaking his head, indicating that no, he did not. Harry swore. "You have any idea who that is?"

Draco had half a mind to be ticked off at the insinuation, but he kept his mouth shut, indicating only a no. The mysterious man disapparated, pulling a shriek of frustration from Nott's lungs. He kicked a trashcan waiting to be emptied, the metal clanging against the ground as he stalked back in the direction he came. The direction Draco and Harry had hid.

A tight grip was felt on his arm and he tried to yank it free in confusion. Then came the pull behind his bellybutton, the sensation of his very atoms being rearranged, compacted, and set right again, and then he was on firm ground. "What was that?" He asked, ignoring the newness of the surroundings.

"Did you want to stay and find out?"

Draco's lip gave a twitch at Potter's indignation, watching him as he fell into a slowly collapsing couch. He looked around him, at the clothing that had been discarded across the floor, the dishes that were piling up, and even the rubbish bin which's smell indicated it needed to be emptied. "You're a slob, Potter."

Something crossed Harry's face. Draco was too far away to read it, or perhaps too in the gray to understand. The sharp, three words that fell from Harry's mouth gave him all he needed to know. "You can go."

Draco approached him, the remembrance that Harry was his boss latching on to everything else. He'd never cared before, perhaps this time he should, but he wasn't going to. Instead he lowered himself beside Harry. Taking a seat of his own.

A five o'clock shadow could be seen across Harry's usually clean shaven face, gray and black stubble alike sprouting from his chin. The beginning of crows feet could be seen around his eyes, similar lines near the corners of his mouth. When had they gotten so fucking old? He touched his own face absentmindedly, he didn't remember age lines crossing his own features.

"What is it?" His voice cut through Draco's thoughts like a blade, solidifying what he knew he needed to do. Harry had slouched into the corner, his body lowered into the cushions. It was almost too easy. Draco adjusted himself, edging closer and hovering over him. He waited for an objection, a scolding, and received nothing.

His head was lowered, eyelids fluttering shut in anticipation. The warmth of Harry pressed into him, begging him to come closer. He grasped at Draco's clothes, searching for something to get a hold of. He smelt of ash, freshly burnt wood that pulled a nostalgia deep from within him. He snogged him harder, drawing the taste of piss water beer into his mouth, chewing on Harry's bottom lip .

He heard a murmur of something against his lips and the contact was broken, each of them breathing heavily. Draco wiped at his mouth, removing the shared spittle that wet his lips.

"You fucking dolt." Harry laughed, being the one to initiate the contact this time. "That was a moan, not a protest." Supporting himself, He pressed into Draco, lips meeting his again while a firm rod dragged against his arm. One hand weaved into the black hair, pulling roughly at the roots while his fingernails dug into Harry's scalp.

His body relaxed, abdomen dropping downward, his back taking on a concave appearance. His dick was lowered in the process, no longer a teasing, feather light touch, but a throbbing one of desire. Draco twisted his wrist, gripping what he could through Harry's bloody stiff jeans. The very ones he had admired earlier he now cursed.

His finger hooked around Harry's waistband, sliding the button from the hole. Draco paused, waiting for the objection, the break in contact that didn't come. Next came the zipper. The fastenings undone, the jeans hung loosely around his hips, the hem of blue pants peeking from beneath the exposed, gradually falling jeans.

Harry pulled back, the sound of lips coming apart filling the air. Draco gave a needy sigh, reclining. "You broke the law, Malfoy."

Harry paused, waiting for a return in banter, but Draco was too fixated on the sparkle in his eyes. The flecks of golden sunlight having sprung to life in each iris. A part of Harry he had never seen before. Words were not the easiest thing to form.

"This is your punishment, not mine." He reached a hand up, behind his neck and grabbed the neck of his muggle shirt, pulling over his head. Though the muscles of his shoulders, his arms were defined, his stomach was not. It was flat, the hint of what could be sleek muscle teasing Draco. He reached out, aching to run his fingers across it, to trace the lines that were visible, but his hand was slapped away. "Punishment means no touching."

He stood from his stooped position, the previously unbuttoned jeans sliding from his hips and to the floor, mingling with the rest of the filth. His own hand dove inside his pants, fondling the growing bulge, a soft gasp freeing itself from his lips. "May I?" He asked after a moment, reaching for Draco's hand with his free one.

"Yes." He held it up, allowing Harry to guide it. His fingers slid across the waistband, the tip pulling it from his flesh before he received a gentle smack on the back of his hand. It was then guided downwards, over the center, where Harry paused. Draco took his chance, stroking his cock through the fabric and Harry didn't protest.

His own erection throbbed, fighting to be free of the confines that were his clothing. "Is it my turn?" He asked, failing to keep the desperation from his voice.

"Not quite yet." Harry leaned over him again, propping himself up with the hand that had been fondling himself and guiding Draco with the other. Draco's finger slid down the back of Harry's drawers this time, skidding along the surface of his ass. He squeezed his cheek, allowing his nails to scratch Harry slightly

Harry slung a leg over him, resting his weight on Draco's thighs, his legs having stretched out on the couch in response. The palms of Harry's hands slid beneath the thin, cotton shirt that Draco wore, edging it upwards. "Take it off."

Draco did as he was told, enjoying his punishment. Harry bent forward, dragging his tongue across the happy trail that led beneath Draco's waistband. He pulled the simple button of Draco's dress robes free with his teeth before planting another kiss on his abdomen. "Those too."

He climbed off of Draco, giving him the ability to stand and loosening the restricting clothing. His trousers puddled around his ankles and he made to sit when another stern glare crossed Harry's face. "Those too."

Down slid the gray underpants, leaving him completely naked. Harry stood, removing the remainder of his clothes and their soft flesh pressed together. Hands explored areas they had never before touched, tongues dipping behind ears, down the curves of necks.

Harry dropped, level with Draco's cock. His tongue wound around the head, giving the occasional suck while a finger teased beneath his balls. Draco trembled as his dick was pulled into Harry's mouth, a gentle suck given at the top before releasing him again. "I can't…" He breathed heavily, focusing on the ability to form words, his mind completely occupied with more important things. "…Is my punishment almost over?"

Harry released him, gazing up into his pleading eyes with a lecherous grin. "One last thing. Fuck me, Draco Malfoy."

His shoulders dropped as Harry assumed the position, turning around for him and leaning onto the couch they had previously occupied. His fingers were placed on his asshole, rubbing in gentle circles, coaxing it open. Harry exhaled in pleasure, the slightest bit of sound escaping him. One finger entered, continuing the motion, and then the next.

Draco's free hand snaked to his front, pressing firmly against Harry's belly, holding him close. When he was afraid that Harry might orgasm did he remove his fingers, cast a lubrication spell and allow his dick to slip inside. He held Harry tightly against him, his pelvis pounding against his backside

"Draco…" Harry moaned, each vowel dragged out in ecstasy. He felt Harry's legs tighten, the muscles of his thighs flex before everything relaxed and Draco's name was cried out a final time. He leaned heavily into Harry, focusing on the fact that Harry still held his own cock before he felt a tingle at the base of his spine, the sensation spreading through his legs. "Damnit, Potter." He ground out, cum spilling from him in pleased exasperation.