Draco stood a couple of houses up, leaning against a tree and hidden by the shadow. He wasn't ready to go in yet. During the bad time stuck in his father's house with those… People. Scabior had been his only ray of hope, or maybe not hope, but it felt good to know that he wasn't the only one who didn't like what he was seeing.

Scabior had been and was his friend. If the man killed his wife, Draco wasn't sure that he wanted to know. Scabior was the one who made it. He got out, he fell in love, and he married. Last time they'd spoken Scabior was thinking about kids. Merlin, Draco hoped they hadn't made a firm decision on that one. He would hate for her to have been pregnant when…

Draco took a long shuddering breath and set his shoulders. It was time to do his job. Whether his old friend had or hadn't murdered Lucille, Draco had to do his job and it all started by stepping into that house.

Just then another figure emerged from somewhere up the street with the impossibility not being there one moment and then just being there the next. Wizard. Draco, pulled closer to the shadow and watched with growing trepidation. The man walked down the road with an easy swagger, his messy black hair was overgrown, his black pants hung loose on his too slim hips and a long duster coat hung off a pair of wide-set shoulders. He always had worn it well.

"What the hell are you doing here, Potter?" Draco muttered but didn't reveal his position.

Scabior hadn't escaped from any prison and he hadn't been charged with anything yet so his name wouldn't be on the skip list. Which meant some someone had hired Potter to investigate, but who and why? Surely everyone knew that the Aurors would be on this one.

He stayed back and watched as Harry pulled his wand, unlocked the front door and let himself in. Only once the wizard was inside did Draco venture forwards. He crept to the door, opened it silently and slipped inside then quickly ducked into the guestroom to the side when Harry returned to the hall.

Peaking through the crack in the door Draco couldn't help himself; he drank the his ex-lover in with his eyes. Potter needed a haircut and by the looks of the way his clothes hung off him, he needed a few home cooked meals. Draco remembered Harry's terrible cooking skills; about the only thing the bloke wasn't amazing at. In the end Draco took over the cooking. A reminiscent smiled tipped up the corners of his lips. He shouldn't still miss those nights; but he did.

Harry stopped. He tipped his head to the side and seemed to be listening intently to something.

Draco held his breath and backed up a step only to trip and knocked over a pedestal and vase. Shit! He looked up just in time to see Harry round the corner, wand drawn.

The shock on Harry's face was unmistakeable. His eyes behind those thick rimmed glasses shot wide and his jaw fell open, shut, open again. "You fucking prick," Harry said but didn't lower his wand.

"And hello to you," Draco replied dryly.

"What are you doing here?"

"That would be my question I think," Draco said striding towards then past Harry and out into the hall. "This is after all a crime scene, Potter. That makes it an Auror and official law officer only restricted zone."

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out his Bounty Hunter licence then flipped out a long piece of parchment and showed it to him. "This is a warrant to apprehend one Scabior Crowley. I have permission to enter his house or any other residence or business where I believe he may be staying."

Draco gave the warrant a disgusted look and threw it back to Harry. "But who hired you! This is a murder investigation, it's Auror jurisdiction."

"Who hired me is protected information protected by client confidentiality clause five-four-six-three."

Draco gritted his teeth and looked down at his feet. It took everything he had not to lose his temper. Being friends with that Granger chit for so long had earned Potter an almost photographic memory for facts and legal guidelines.

"Well this is my bloody investigation and I plan to see to it that Scabior gets a fair trial, if this even goes to court."

"Interesting choice of words there, Malfoy." Harry paced slowly, four steps right then four steps left and back again. "One might think you don't plan to find him at all."

Flustered Draco was quick to reply, "I didn't say that."

Harry shrugged. "You didn't have to." He looked at him thoughtfully then turned on his heel and walked towards the kitchen.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Draco took chase; following him and watching as Harry pulled open the fridge and bent to look in.

Harry turned his head to look at Draco without straightening. "Come on, mate, you know exactly what I meant." He grabbed out a large salami sausage, some butter, cheese, pickles, and a loaf of bread. "Not that I'm complaining, I mean the money from collecting and bringing back the scum you can't seem to hold onto is nothing to sneeze at, but over the last year or so I've been swamped. Me and others are starting to get worried for our safety. But maybe the next in the Malfoy line isn't so interested in the protection of ordinary folk like us."

Harry juggled the foodstuff to the bench and proceeded to make himself a sandwich.

"You know that's not true." Draco spat. "And that warrant you have gives you only permission to enter and search, not bloody make yourself at home or steal their food!"

"So?" Harry showed him a raised eyebrow. "Gonna arrest me?" Then in an act of pure evil he gave him his sexiest lopsided grin and his emerald eyes grew darker. "Wanna borrow my handcuffs?"

"Blow me, Potter," Draco spat and walked out leaving Harry watching his back. "Do the job," he muttered to himself.

Stubbornly ignoring the sounds coming from the kitchen Draco started in the guest room, finding nothing to indicate where Scabior might have gone he moved to the lounge and finally the bedroom.

For a long time he stood next to the bed looking around at the garishly decorated room. The curtains were dark blue, the carpet was lily white and the bed was an antique made up with black and red and purple sheets and blankets. On the far was a large picture of sunflowers by a Muggle artist that he was sure Harry had mentioned.

The whole room was a conflicting clash of colour and shadow and light. Draco couldn't imagine sleeping there but it was very Scabior.

"Where are you, mate?" Draco said with his exhale and jumped when Harry appeared and leaned against the doorframe. "Is this what you do, lurk around waiting to scare people?"

Harry pushed away from the doorframe and sauntered towards him. "Did I scare you?" he asked, his voice deeper, huskier. He kept coming closer and despite his need to back up, Draco held his position. "Forgive me," Harry murmured when he was standing almost toe to toe with him.

"I have work to do," Draco replied and moved away with a long withheld breath.

He dropped to his knees and opened the draws of the bedside table and made a great show of looking for any indication of where Scabior might have gone. It wasn't till he lifted the third magazine that he realized that he hadn't actually looked at anything. Swearing silently he dropped the magazines back in the draw and started again.

Men's Health, Men's Fitness, Heat. Draco frowned. "Wow I never knew Scabior was so into staying fit."

"Didn't know he was a murderer though either," Harry said too lightly and shrugged at Draco's dark look.

"I still don't know that and neither do you." Draco stood up and faced Harry, his temper spiking. "Scabior is only wanted for questioning and I plan to see that he is treated fairly. Is that what your people want?"

Harry grinned and snatched the magazines from his hand. Sitting on the bed he inspected each and threw them one at a time to the floor but held onto the copy of Heat. He looked up at Draco with raised brows.

"What?"

"Well are you sure that this guy married a woman?" Harry said and moved to a kneeling position as he flicked through the magazine. He whistled through his teeth and turned it around so Draco could see the centrefold.

The centrefold photo depicted a man in his early twenties, naked to the waist with muscles to die for and a nice sized package barely hidden in his jocks. Draco snatched the magazine back and threw it in the draw.

"It's just a magazine, doesn't mean a damned thing."

Harry chuckled and tipped his head to the side. Sucking his bottom lip between his teeth he slowly looked Draco up and down. "Just a magazine that fell open at the centrefold of Mr do-me-now." Harry shrugged when Draco didn't respond. "Oh yeah, I forgot you don't swing that way anymore."

"I swing any way I want," Draco responded defensively and instantly regretted taking the bait.

Harry smiled, a slow smooth sensual smile that made his eyes hot and made Draco's legs weak. "Really?" He bounced experimentally on the bed and looked back at Draco. "This is a nice bed. Good bounce, soft but firm." He wriggled his finger and angled his head back. "Come here."

"Fuck you," Draco replied and turned for the door.

"Yeah, that was sort of what I was getting at." Harry licked his lips. "Come on, Malfoy. Just a quick one." He made an obscene noise, gripped an invisible partner and gave one good hard thrust. "Shame to let this fine bed go to waste, I think we both know that Scabior and his "wife" weren't using it." He wiggled his fingers beside his face when he said, wife.

There was something very sexy about the way Harry rocked his hips and he looked very tempting kneeling on the bed. Draco shook his head. "This is not going to find Scabior any faster."

Harry laughed and pulled out the magazine. He flipped it open again this time to another barely dressed man giving the camera his best sultry look from beneath a waterfall.

"I think a couple of hot guys banging like bandits on his bed will get his attention pretty fucking fast."

This earned a laugh. "Bloody hell, you always were a horny bastard," Draco said in a tone much more intimate then he intended.

Remembering himself and the fact that he was here to do a job, Draco looked around desperate for a distraction and he found it. "Hey isn't this a DVD player?" He knelt down in front of the Muggle artefact and tapped the top experimentally."

"Careful," Harry said still kneeling. "If you tap it the wrong way it burns your eyes out."

"What!" Draco jumped away then turned to glare at Harry who had fallen back on the bed cackling with laughter. "Oh you're funny."

"I'm a riot, didn't you know?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yeah alright. If you're quite finished come and show me how it works."

Harry rolled off the bed and came down to kneel next to Draco. He inspected the machine for a moment before grabbing up a metal stick and sitting back on the bed. He patted the space next to him and when Draco looked hesitant he said, "Don't worry precious, you virtue is safe."

Rolling his eyes Draco sat next to Harry and watched curiously as Harry pointed the long buttoned stick at the TV and pressed a button. The TV flickered to life and immediately pictures began dancing and talking.

"Oh! It's like some kind of Muggle wand. But where does the magic come from?"

Harry deftly opened the back to reveal two cinders. "Battery magic. And it's called a remote control." He looked at the screen. "Looks like there's a DVD in there." He pressed another button and the screen went black.

In the next moment it lit up on a scene that left them both gaping. At first Draco wasn't sure what he was seeing. He could hear grunting and someone moaning and there was movement, rhythmic and rough. Slowly the scene widened to reveal two men. A larger one with long black and red hair was fucking another short-haired man from behind.

"I think that's…" Scabior.

"Oh yeah," Harry grinned smugly. "That boy was straight as a beam." He tipped his head to the side and leaned closer. "Fuck look at him go."

Suddenly the screen went black again and a boy who couldn't have been more then nineteen who looked like the boy in the film was sitting tied to a chair. His eyes were red and he had a long scar across his cheek.

"I'm so sorry," he said and a tear slid down his cheek. "Please, Scabior, please do what they say… They've hurt me and…" Someone whispered roughly off screen and the boy nodded shaking. "They want a hundred thousand dollars from you by Friday or they're going to kill me. You'll receive more details of the drop off soon." His eyes moved as though reading. "No cops. Give them the money or I'm… dead." The boy looked right into the camera now and the pleading look was heartbreaking. "Scabior please. I'm so sorry… So sorry… Please don't let them hurt me."