Draco
"Potter, talk to me," Draco said as he rushed to grab the Lock Box once it closed. He picked it up, it was cold to the touch and even trapped as she was—her magic lingered. Once he was sure she was locked away, he went to his partner
"'M fine," Potter mumbled. "Head hurts a bit."
Draco knelt down next to Potter and saw the wound on his head gushing blood. He touched his partner's face, feeling a rush of lust hit him. Potter's skin was warm under his fingers. He didn't flinch away, but instead leaned into Draco's touch. The potion hadn't worked its way out of their systems yet, that was all.
"You're bleeding."
Potter laughed. "Observant as always, partner." The stubborn man Draco had known for so long and loved for nearly all that time, tried to stand up only to fall back against the wall for support.
Draco stood up next to him. "You're an idiot, Potter. Why didn't you tell me you couldn't cast? That the Succubus got a bite out of you last night, didn't she? That was utterly foolish, and not to mention, it could have gotten you killed."
"I had to stop her."
"Not alone," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "You could have told me. We could have planned something..."
"You would have told Robards, and I couldn't take that chance. I needed to find this thing and stop it before someone else died."
"Maybe I would have, maybe not. You never gave me the chance, Potter. If we are going to work together, be partners, you have to be honest with me."
In answer, Potter shrugged. Then he did something odd. He turned to face Draco and reached a hand up to stroke his face. Potter's fingers were shaky as they trailed down from his cheek to his jaw. "She was right, you know? You are silver-tongued, charming, and beautiful."
This wasn't real, Draco reminded himself. Potter was still under the effects of the potion and obviously concussed. That didn't stop his breath from hitching, nor did it stop his body from aching with want.
"She left out one thing though," Potter said.
"Wh-what?"
"You're also a giant pain in the arse." Potter laughed and then let his hand fall to rest on Draco's chest.
Every inch of Draco was on fire. Potter was touching him and saying those things. Fuck. Pansy was right. This potion wasn't a good idea for him. It was like giving a recovered addict a hit of heroin only to snatch the rest away forever.
"Potter." Draco's voice came out breathy, and he hated it.
There was a moment where Potter leaned in, grasping Draco's robes in his fist, when Draco thought that maybe, just maybe, something would happen, but then the familiar sound of Robards' voice reached them and Draco pulled back.
Potter's head snapped around to the mausoleum entrance. He swayed under the too quick movement and grabbed his head. "Robards?"
"In there!" someone else shouted, then Robards was stepping through the doorway.
The Head Auror had his wand out, ready. "Potter, Malfoy?"
"Sir," Potter said. "What are you doing here?"
"Your partner was smart enough to send word when you found the Succubus. We were all out at different night clubs when we got word, and rushed here. Looks like we were a bit late to the party, though. And interestingly, we ran into a naked man stammering about a wizard fight that led us back to the mausoleums."
"Her almost victim." Draco took the Lock Box out and extended his hand towards Robards. "We got her."
Robards grabbed the box and nodded. "Good. But don't think that means you two are off the hook for engaging with the perp after I specifically told you not to. There will be desk duty in both of your futures." He turned to look at Potter once again and sighed. "And Auror Malfoy, get your partner to St. Mungo's so he can get that cut seen to."
"Yes, sir," Draco said.
"I'm fine. Just a scratch." Potter grunted as he tried to stand clear of the wall, but leaned back on it again. "Okay, maybe I do need to get this looked at."
St. Mungo's was quiet. The Spell Damage Ward's patients all seemed to be sleeping. When they arrived, a Healer swooped Potter away, telling Draco to wait there. It all felt like it happened in slow motion. Draco felt the potion waning, leaving him a bit drained and very sore. Pansy had said it might last seven hours, but it was more like three, but if she'd had that final day to tweak things, he was sure it would have been seven. He felt like he needed to sleep for about a week.
He waited in the lobby, yawning every few moments, flipping through old editions of Witch Weekly where he found an article about Potter. It was an interview with The Chosen One from right after the war. The picture they used of his partner was one that someone must have snapped directly after the battle. There was dirt smudging his face and a cut over his eye. He looked much the same as he had tonight. He even still wore that determined 'I'm going to do whatever I want' look.
"Some things never change," Draco mumbled to himself, covering his mouth as another yawn escaped him. He shut the magazine, and when he looked up, Potter was standing over him looking rested. They'd cleaned all the blood off his face and healed the cut. And if the stupid grin he wore was any indication, rid him of his concussion, too.
"And some things do." Potter smiled down at him, responding to Draco's musings about Potter. "You waited?"
Draco stood up, using the chair's armrests to keep him steady. He wondered if they'd given Potter a Pepper-Up potion because he looked like he'd just awoken from a good night's sleep, whereas Draco felt like he'd been up for 72 hours straight. "Of course," Draco said, a yawn muffling his speech a bit. "Wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Right. Thanks, Malfoy. For, you know, all of it."
Draco's throat went dry. "Of course, Potter. It was nothing."
Potter laughed bitterly. "I should have told you the Succubus got a bite out of me and that it affected my spell casting."
"Probably."
Potter smiled, and it was unbelievably attractive. "Definitely. Next time, I will."
Quiet and empty as it was, the emergency ward had an almost other-realm feel to it as Potter stood in front of Draco, smiling at him openly like they were the best of friends.
"So what next?" Draco asked, trying to keep himself steady, both physically and emotionally.
"Back to the Ministry so Robards can rip us a new one, I suppose." Potter headed off toward the entrance lobby where the Floos were, and Draco followed after him.
The only sounds were the soft breathing of patients sleeping, and the sounds of Potter's shoes clicking on the tile floor as they made their way down the halls. Potter walked next to him, keeping in step with him. Potter's knuckles brushed against his and Draco held his breath. The potion had to be out of his system by now. It'd been hours. So why did Potter's touch still make him feel like he was flying?
When they reached the Floos, Potter turned to face him. "There is one thing I wanted to talk about before we go back."
Draco looked over his shoulder. They were alone in the entrance lobby. "Uh, sure. What's that?"
"The potion Parkinson gave us. It felt like my whole body was a live wire all night, but it didn't seem like it bothered you much."
"And?"
"And I guess I want to know why."
"Your guess is as good as mine," Draco lied.
"So you didn't feel anything at all? Like when we touched?" Potter searched Draco's face like he was reading a particularly confusing passage in a textbook. "Parkinson said it took an already existing attraction? Amplified it, right?"
Draco nodded. "What are you getting at?"
"Well, if it didn't affect you, then does that mean you didn't have an already existing attraction?" Potter scrunched his brow. "No, that can't be it because then the Succubus could have trapped your mind, and she didn't? That means you had an existing attraction and the potion worked on you?"
"Yes."
"So what gives? Why didn't you seem to be reacting as much as me?"
Draco looked over his shoulder, nervously checking that no one was eavesdropping. "Do we really need to talk about this right now?"
"I'd like to, yes." Potter smiled. It was a soft, almost shy smile that Draco was not used to seeing his partner wear. "If we're going to work together, don't you think we should be honest with one another? Someone pretty clever told me that recently."
"Ye—yes," Draco stammered. Merlin, this man would be the death of him one way or the other. He was throwing Draco's own words back at him.
"So, then what happened? Why didn't you seem as affected? Every time I touched something, my whole body felt it. It was even more intense when we touched, and I sort of remember Parkinson saying that if you were around someone you found attractive that it would be worse, so I guess what I'm getting at is..."
Draco cut Potter off before he could finish. "Yes, the potion was supposed to make us immune to the Succubus by amping up whatever attraction we already had for someone, like a sort of mental block. If you acknowledged those feelings, or accepted them, then the effects wouldn't be as strong. Or at least, they would be strong, but you'd be able to control them. If you denied them, or they were being blocked somehow then it would be worse."
"Oh-kay," Potter said, elongating the word. "So that means you had already accepted your attraction and that...that I hadn't?"
Draco nodded. "I accepted it a long time ago. Accepted that he wouldn't feel the same way. It made it easier to stay in control when the potion hit. That doesn't mean I didn't feel the effects, just that I could control myself better."
"And how do you know he doesn't feel the same?"
Draco lowered his head. If he was going to do this, say this, then he couldn't look Potter in the eye. He trembled, his tired, potion-addled brain made it hard to think, hard to form a coherent thought, but he managed. "Because I know him, Potter, and he could never feel the same way."
"How do you know that, though?" Potter asked, his voice a whisper.
Potter tried to place a hand on Draco's shoulder, but Draco pulled away. "Because I just know," he said, chanced a look at Potter and regretted it. Their eyes locked, the fiery green of Potter's eyes scorched through the last of his resolve. "He wouldn't. You couldn't."
Potter opened his mouth like he was going to speak, then closed it again, tightening his lips into a hard line. Then his face softened, and he said, "Okay, but if the potion was supposed to be stronger around the person you were attracted to, and it was affecting me so much around you then…"
"Potter, don't," Draco said, cutting Potter off again. He couldn't believe himself. Here Potter was about to say he was attracted to Draco because the potion affected him so much, but Draco knew that couldn't really be the reason. It had to be that Potter wasn't in touch with his feelings. The other reason the potion could be strong was blocking or denying yourself of an attraction. It had to be that.
"I'm just saying that if that was the case then…"
"It wasn't," Draco snapped. "Remember Pansy also said it would be worse if you denied it or were blocked?"
Draco didn't wait for a response. He was already drafting a letter for a partner transfer in his mind when he tossed the Floo powder in and let the green flames consume him. Working with Potter would be impossible after this.
