37. Invaders must die [Tuesday, March 29th 2005]
You'd think that finding out someone trusted you enough to key you into their wards would be a good thing.
On March 29th, it wasn't.
It went like this: Draco was done with his last patient around half past seven in the morning. He took a quick shower, dried his hair off with his wand and then immediately got it all wet again when he stepped outside and into the pouring rain.
Great. Now he'd have to dry it again before going to bed, or it would be all over the place. Maybe not as bad as Harry's, but he doubted that anyone could archive that degree of messiness. It really was no wonder that Harry's grandfather had invented that hair potion. The real question was: why didn't Harry use it? (Not that Draco really wanted him to.)
Yawning deeply, Draco pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and went down the street until he finally reached the spot from where he could Apparate home. For a second, he felt way too tired to do it, but then a few drops of rain dripped from his hair and down his back, and Draco shivered violently. He pulled his hood down low over his face, took a deep breath to gather his strength and twisted.
It took Draco a second to orient himself.
He had expected to appear in his hallway, facing his flower wallpaper. He had not been expecting to look at Harry's front door and drip water onto his marble floor.
Well, fuck. Draco's first thought was that he could count himself lucky he hadn't Splinched himself if he had really been that distracted. His second thought was just pure confusion. When exactly had Harry decided that Draco could just pop in whenever? He definitely hadn't told him.
Also: what was he supposed to do now? There was no telling how Harry would react if Draco just called for him. He didn't really want to startle him. It felt kind of intrusive, just coming in unannounced. Even if Harry had done the same on Christmas and Valentine's. Draco briefly debated just Disapparating, but he had a feeling that would just make it worse if Harry had already heard him.
It happened without a warning. A strong, invisible arm was slung around his neck from behind, strangling him. But before Draco could do anything more than flinch and make a noise that could have developed into a scream, he was thrown around roughly, face connecting painfully with the wall. A second later, the tip of a wand was pressed against his hooded head.
And then Harry growled into his ear, "How did you get in?"
Draco made a noise – something between a wheeze and a groan – and Harry's arm around his throat flexed nervously. Merlin, Draco couldn't breathe! He tried to grab a hold of the arm around his throat, but it was no use. He was pressed against the wall so hard that there was no room for his arm to squeeze into, and all he could ho was try to ram his elbows into Harry's sides. If Harry wanted answers, he was going about this all wrong.
"Harry," Draco whispered, barely audible.
It did no good. The wand was pressed against his temple even harder. The arm around Draco's throat was so tight that it felt like his windpipe was about to get crushed.
Harry's voice was shaking with rage. "What do you want?"
In a desperate effort, Draco braced both hands against the wall and pushed. Harry stumbled behind him, and then, from one second to the next, he was falling, dragging Draco down with him.
With a grunt, Harry landed flat on his back with Draco right on top him. Gasping for air, Draco grabbed his arm with both hands, pried it loose and rolled off him, landing on his hands and knees.
Draco's voice sounded strange and broken as he yelled, "Harry, stop!" and then staggered to his feet, both hands flying up to massage his sore throat. Fuck, he was dizzy and completely disoriented. He had to face Harry, but Merlin, he couldn't even remember to which side he'd been. Fucking Invisibility Cloak.
A rope whipped past Draco's head and struck the wall next to the staircase. There was a sudden flurry of movement as the Snitches glued to the wall got loose at once, taking off into every direction. Some of them fluttered so close by him that Draco could feel their wings on his face.
And then something grabbed his leg from behind, yanking him back to the ground in one brutal stroke, and ropes wound all around him, tying him up tightly, locking his legs together and squeezing his arms against his chest. It felt like there was no air left in his lungs.
Draco couldn't see anything but the marble floor. The hood, which had slid off when they'd gone down, had fallen over his head again and Draco could hear the blood rushing ins his ears, his own wheezing breath, the almost silent sound of Harry coming closer.
Something at Draco's chest pressed into his wrist painfully, but Draco could bare move to change anything about it. Harry grabbed his arm roughly and flipped him around at once, and then Draco's hand found the thing, closing around it as the ceiling came into view. The thing in Draco's hand grew hot at once, and there was a startled gasp above him.
The ropes fell away at once and then Draco heard Harry drop down beside him. His horror-struck face appeared above him a second later, and then there were his hands, hovering over Draco's face and his arms, apparently afraid to touch.
"Oh God. Oh fuck, shit."
"Language, Potter," croaked Draco, massaging his wrists. He stayed on his back, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths. The Snitches were everywhere now, and it certainly wasn't doing anything to help with his light-headedness.
"Oh God, I'm so sorry." Harry finally brought himself to place a hand in Draco's hair and stroke it soothingly. "Are you alright? Do you need to go to Mungo's?"
Draco shook his head, leaning into the touch (even if Harry didn't really didn't deserve it right now). "Gonna be fine. Sorry for dropping in unexpectedly. It was kind of an accident."
"You Apparated in accidentally?"
"I was kind of thinking about you when I left work. It just happened," said Draco with a sigh. Harry was grinning now, so Draco slapped his hand away and pushed himself into a sitting position. "Oh, shut up. I am really tired."
Harry got to his feet and then offered him a hand, grinning even more than before. "You like me."
"You will never hear me admit to that." Draco let himself be pulled up and then pulled the necklace out of his scrubs. It was still warmer than usual, though it looked the same. "So, when did you plan on telling me you placed a Protean on the necklace?"
Guilt was still written all over Harry's face. "It was just supposed to be a precaution. In case I have to reach you, you know? Fast and discreet."
"And if I wanted to contact you?" Draco leaned against the wall for support. His legs had already been shaky before coming here and nearly getting strangled certainly hadn't been an improvement.
Harry plucked the necklace out of Draco's hands, caressed it once and then put it back underneath Draco's scrubs very carefully. "I was going to tell you," he muttered. "Maybe later, when it would have looked a little less crazy."
Though Draco had a few choice words to say about crazy, he kept all of them to himself. They had already talked about that stuff after Blaise's party, so there was no need to rehash it now. Especially not when Draco was almost too tired to function. Besides, he didn't want Harry to decide being with Draco was too dangerous after all. So Draco just nodded and straightened his still very wet cloak.
Harry nodded too, giving him a look that told Draco he knew exactly what they weren't talking about and was thankful for it. He placed both hands on Draco's shoulders and took off his cloak, careful not to touch him too roughly. "I have practice now, but you can sleep here if you want ..."
Draco nodded gratefully for a second, which transformed into a head shake when he realised he wasn't done for the day. He sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. "I've got to go home to Aurelius."
Harry smoothed Draco's hair back with both hands, eyes focused on his intently, which felt a little bit like hypnosis with how green they were. "Go to bed. You've just been assaulted." And yes, there was the bitterness Draco had been waiting for, but then Harry gave him a half-hearted smile and continued. "He can go into the garden if he has to and I'll pick him up after practice."
"I don't know," muttered Draco.
"Please," Harry muttered back, stroking his throbbing cheek with one soft, tentative finger. "I feel awful. Just let me do that for you."
"Fine."
Something was fluttering at the edge of his vision and Draco swatted at it half-heartedly. Harry's hand shot out and pressed the Snitch into Draco's palm a second later. He leaned in and then hesitated at the last second, lips just inches away from Draco's.
Perfect, now the idiot was starting to develop doubts. Merlin, why couldn't Draco have been a little bit more attentive when he'd Apparated? He wouldn't put it past Harry to break up with him just to keep him safe.
Draco grabbed his neck and pulled him in for the most convincing kiss he had, ignoring the way his lower lip throbbed painfully. The discomfort was definitely worth it when Harry returned the kiss a second later, and then Draco slid his tongue into Harry's mouth, and Harry made a little noise that sounded suspiciously like a moan, and Draco had seldom felt so relieved.
It didn't even matter when Harry pulled away a second later, taking several steps back, because he was actually panting as he did it, and his eyes were roaming Draco's body, and fuck, now Draco could remember (without fear of dying) the way it had felt when they'd fallen to the floor, Draco on top with Harry's arm around his neck, and that was definitely something Draco would like to repeat some time very soon (though not all of it).
Harry cleared his throat and then placed the cloak on Draco's hook, breaking eye contact. "Practice."
Draco nodded. "I'll be waiting."
And well, that didn't seem to make it any easier for Harry to leave, if the way his lips parted were any indication, so Draco looked down at the Snitch in his hand (the inscription read 'February 8th 2004. Falmouth Falcons vs. Ballycastle Bats. 370 – 210') and added, "How many more are there?"
Harry's voice sounded husky as he said, "Fifty-six."
Draco groaned. "Is it bad that I kind of wish you had lost against the Arrows now?"
"I'm afraid that makes you officially the worst," said Harry with a soft smile, but then he kissed him anyway, if only for a second.
Then there was a pop, and Draco was alone with this absolutely obscene number of Snitches.
