Chapter Twenty-Two
It was supposed to be a simple mission. Arms trader Fenrir Greyback had been sighted, and all Cedric had to do was to report his whereabouts and note what he was doing to see if he was posing a threat or if he was simply on vacation. However, it turned out that Greyback was meeting up with Lestrange to give her a particularly vicious poison, no doubt to coat on her blades, but before the transaction could be completed, the Dragon Killer came and killed them. Including Cedric, who no doubt had been sighted and put to death to leave no witnesses.
Everyone assumed that Lestrange and Greyback were branded because they were Death Eaters or members of the underworld, with Cedric spared because he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. But Draco knew better. He knew that the poison was meant for him. He knew that Lestrange was out for his blood. And like Colin Creevey, Lavender Brown, and Fred Weasley, Cedric Diggory had been caught in the middle and lost his life as a result.
Cho was in grief, resigning briefly from her job to cope, but continued to attend meetings about the Dragon Killer, bloodshot eyes glittering with pain but anger as they planned their next moves in capturing him. Harry and Dean were swamped in work, forced to put on masks of grim faces as they dealt with the questions from the MI6 headquarters on the death of their friend, but behind closed doors, their facades crumbled to reveal the anguish beneath. And Draco…
Draco was feeling miserable enough, but when they met up in Cho's now far too-silent apartment, Parvati came up to him. Draco braced himself, expecting her to stab him or slap him or at the very least curse him to an early grave, but instead, found himself staggering back as she wrapped her arms tightly around him in a powerful embrace. Draco opened his eyes in shock, his brain still coming to terms with the fact that Parvati Patil was hugging him when she whispered fiercely into his ear, "The Dragon Killer, that son of a bitch is paying for what he did, yeah?"
Oh god. It took every inch of Draco's control to return an assent, but… fuck. He glanced up. Everyone was watching them, faces grim and weary, but there were smiles on their lips. Sincerity glittered in their eyes. They trusted him.
Draco nearly lost it. The tattoo on his right shoulder was burning, the guilt in his heart agonizing, and the conflict inside of him was eating him alive. He had lied to them for so long, pretending not to know anything about the Dragon Killer when his symbol was literally fucking tattooed on his body, and he was literally two seconds away from tearing his shirt off to show that goddamn thing to them and tell them the truth, but… god. He couldn't. He just couldn't.
It was nearly unimaginable for them to look past his crimes and trust him, but they did. It was just as impossible for him to let go of his fears to trust them, but he did. They became more than just members of a team working together to stop a serial killer. They had become friends. And revealing the tattoo… it would tear them apart.
Draco could already imagine how Cho's face would shift from grief to horror. How the determination on Dean's features would be replaced by outrage. How Parvati's fury at the Dragon Killer would be shifted right back to him in the form of a raging hurricane. And how those clear green eyes would once again contain nothing but suspicion and wariness, as if the delicate but beautiful trust they had now had never existed…
Draco swallowed. He met their assertive faces, the determination in their eyes, and smiled grimly in return.
"Let's get this motherfucker."
Cedric's presence had always been essential, and with him gone, Draco knew that the team's mood and dynamics would certainly be affected. However, nothing could have prepared him for Cedric's lack of presence to be so deeply felt.
Harry and Parvati got into an argument that rapidly escalated and was stopped only when a security guard knocked on their door with a noise complaint. Draco and Dean got wrapped up in a petty quarrel that nearly had them resolving it with fists, and it took Cho bursting into tears to get them to take a take a step back and apologize. And through it all, a persistent cloud of grief and guilt hovered over them, broken apart only by flashes of rage or sparks of conflict. Everyone arrived with frowning faces, and left with their scowls deepened.
Cedric had always been there to resolve issues before they got out of hand. He had always been there to offer encouragement and support whenever morale was low. Even his smile – that beautiful, infectious smile – was enough to diffuse the tension and provide a glimmer of hope, that no matter how difficult the task at hand was, the resolution was right around the corner.
But he was gone. And along with it, the light he brought with him in his soul.
The worked hard to bring him justice, but it wasn't enough. Cho forced herself to go to the scene of her boyfriend's death to gather forensic evidence she could analyze. Parvati had practically looked through every security camera in Shanghai, but failed to catch a glimpse of the murderer. And Draco and Harry spent every night visiting the underworld through the bars and clubs of the city, asking about anything, anything at all about the Dragon Killer, but always left with empty hands and more frustrated than ever.
Early December faded into Christmas, but despite their efforts, their search remained futile. They wanted nothing more in the world than to avenge him. But no matter how hard they tried; it was never enough.
New Year's Eve.
Draco stepped from the metro station, and god, it was so fucking cold. A gust of wind blew right into him and nearly knocked him off his feet, and it would have probably chilled him straight to the bone as well if it weren't for the half a bottle of vodka he chugged earlier. Clenching his coat tighter around his shoulders, he braced himself against the cold, and forged on.
Draco had walked these streets for years now, and was more than familiar with every corner and alley, but every single time, would never fail to find himself in awe, because Shanghai was truly a place of beauty. It might have been the alcohol in his veins, but tonight, the city was especially stunning. It was drizzling lightly and the sidewalk was slick with water, but the puddles reflected the glittering streetlights and turned the ground beneath his feet into a canvas of rippling stars. Lights from the bars that lined the street illuminated the darkness in blazing streaks of neon, and music pounded from nearby clubs, filling the night with the sound of laughter and songs.
Draco arrived at a simple black door with a neon sign in the center, displaying the character LÓNG. He stepped up and rapped the door impatiently, then glanced up at the security camera hanging above him. A moment later, it opened, and he slipped inside to a world of noise and smoke and chaos.
The club wasn't very big, consisting of really just a bar surrounded by some empty space for dancing, but it sure as hell felt so much bigger with the raging pandemonium inside. Music loud enough to wake the fucking dead pounded from the speakers and spotlights blazed to its beat, illuminating the crowd below in dizzying flashes of white and gold. And even after barely stepping over the threshold, Draco was already stripping off his coat. Every inch of the club was packed with people, a tangle of bodies writhing to the rhythm and filling the room with a sweat-soaked heat. Everyone was laughing and screaming as they jumped and sang and danced, wholly possessed by a wild euphoria and an unrestrained recklessness that sobriety would never allow.
Draco rarely went clubbing. Admittedly, he did visit clubs every night, but it was for work which most definitely required a clear head, and he was far too busy cleaning up after these drunk young fools to even remotely consider joining them in the chaos. But for tonight?
Well, the last two weeks had been exhausting as fuck, and he sure as hell deserved a night of release.
"One vodka shot!" Draco ordered, jostling his way up to the bar. His voice was, of course, drowned by the sound of the music around him, but the bartender was no doubt an excellent lip-reader considering his career and understood him immediately, reaching for the bottle.
"Actually, make that two!"
Draco looked to his side. It was a tall young man with dark hair dyed artfully with streaks of teal and stylish round glasses that flattered a pair of impeccable cheekbones. He glanced at Draco and grinned, revealing dimples that gave him an air of boyish charm, and it would be a lie if Draco didn't say that he was one of the most gorgeous people he had ever seen in his life.
The bartender slid two shots before them. The man glanced at Draco again, raising his glass, and Draco couldn't stop his lips from quirking into a smile as he did the same. They shot their drinks down in one smooth motion and slammed the glass down on the bar. The alcohol burned as it went down his throat, hot in his stomach, and Draco grimaced in appreciation. This bar did not cut corners with their alcohol whatsoever.
Right at that moment, two more shots were placed before them. Draco looked up in surprise. The man had come closer, and was that a touch of shyness Draco saw in his smile as he pushed one of the glasses closer? Regardless, he picked it up, and together, shot it down again.
Well, now that they were both most definitely tipsy, Draco was sure as hell not wasting the night sitting on his ass. He grabbed the man's hand, and laughing, the two of them squeezed their way onto the dance floor.
The music was a pounding beat that thrummed through his chest and sent his heart quaking in the aftermath, and the flashing lights were bright enough to leave him blind. They were surrounded by people, the scent of smoke and sweat and wine heavy in the air, pushed and jostled by sticky limbs, but Draco didn't care. He was dancing, he was jumping, or just whirling to the beat, the alcohol in his bloodstream releasing him from his fears and constraints. His parents or the MI6 or his childhood friends would have lost their shit, seeing the poised and composed Draco Malfoy so wild and reckless, but Draco did not give a fuck. Nothing else existed but the music, the laughter, the chaos. Nothing but this exhilaration and euphoria, and the stranger dancing beside him.
"ALRIGHT EVERYONE!" The DJ leapt onto the bar and yelled into his microphone. "LET'S WELCOME THE NEW YEAR!"
The crowd roared in approval, whoops piercing through the music.
"FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE!"
Everyone exploded into cheers and applause, and the ground positively trembled from the roaring. People leapt onto the bar, spraying champagne into the air, and the bartenders were scrambling to pass around drinks and shots. People grabbed onto each other, lovers embracing as they welcomed the new year, and in that moment, Draco was no different.
He reached for the man next to him and kissed him, tumbling into arms that stiffened in surprise, but then tightened as it was returned passionately. Hands slid beneath his shirt, and Draco reached for the back of his neck to deepen the embrace, and in that moment, all he could feel was the warmth of the stranger before him. The heat and contact and the promise of a body beside him that might help him forget about his grief and pain and guilt, even if it was for just one night.
They stumbled from out of the club. The cold was startling and would probably shock any decent person back to their senses, but Draco could hardly feel it with the man's arm wrapped around his waist. Now that the countdown was over, a few other couples were making their way out as well, holding each other close as they flagged down taxis or headed to their cars. Draco's cab arrived, and they were just about to head down the stairs when he saw another couple heading out beside them…
He'd recognize those clear green eyes anywhere.
Harry was holding hands with a beautiful young man with styled-back blond hair, but his eyes were fixed on Draco and his face was in open shock. Likewise, Draco had completely forgotten about the one-night stand beside him, and his expression was probably just as ridiculous.
For a second, all they could do was to stare at each other in disbelief. Then, Harry glanced at his partner for the night. And Draco glanced at his. And despite himself, he started to laugh.
He was drunk as fuck and probably couldn't even tell the difference between left and right even if he tried, but in that moment, his head and heart and soul had never felt clearer and more certain in his life. And looking into those beautiful green eyes, knew that Harry felt the same.
Draco tore away from his lover and took a step towards him. Harry crossed the distance between them in two quick strides. And then Draco was holding him so tightly in his arms and Harry was cupping his face and they were kissing under the city of burning lights, his heart overflowing with warmth and passion and relief, and… god. For the first time since he lost faith in the world and in himself and in his happiness…
He finally felt safe enough to fall.
Based off of: 蟲. It's technically pronounced 'chóng,' but for this bar/club, it's pronounced 'lóng.' Even though the character is different, it has the same pronunciation as the Chinese character for 'dragon.'