Thirty minutes after signing, Banks himself appeared to Harry with clean clothing. Under the watchful observation of CIUM agents, he resisted talking too much. He caught Harry's eye and deliberately touched his hand when giving him the folded shirt and trousers. Harry took them and pulled away.
Banks noted his reserve and used the moment to whisper, "No one wants you to go to trial. If these people give you a way out of this, I hope you use it to your advantage. But work with us. Don't fight your allies."
Under surveillance, Harry showered and dressed. Agents stayed close to him, escorting him through the Ministry atrium, past the newly posted WANTED posters of him. Banks and his team stood off to the side as they marched past. Arthur Weasley stood perfectly still as his colleagues craned their necks to watch him walk free, clean and poised as far as anyone could tell.
Under the Admiral's direction, they stopped for one photo, which was used to publish the headline, MALFOY CRITICAL, POTTER WALKS FREE.
The move appeared strategic and Bicksby assured him that it would give the message to the public that, withheld information completely exonerated Harry, or his exit would not be possible. Whatever Lucius did to get himself landed in a hospital, he must've deserved it. Even to his few sympathizers, Lucius's reputation cemented that assumption.
Harry walked out with gratefulness in his heart, but heaviness in his soul. For every step towards freedom, he could not get to what he really needed fast enough. Hogwarts, and McGonagall's permission to interrogate a certain portrait. That was the only thing he knew to do for his daughter. Before he could take off, he had to check in with Draco, and whatever kind of mess he had to mop up there. Bicksby would contact him later. He ordered him to get some rest. But there would be no rest until he made sure that Draco knew his intentions and had everything under control with Iece. As controlled as he could anyway.
When Bicksby shooed him away, he gave the booklet back, along with a small box. "You actually have to take courses to gain entry-level clearance. Read it, it'll tell you what you're in for, in the way of training. While you work with us, you'll be used at a training-level capacity, and only on this one case. Open the box."
He did. It was a CIUM signia pin. He supposed he should be asking about the case, but he really didn't care at the moment. He'd beaten Lucius and was no longer locked up. That was enough for one day.
"We can get you a ring if you prefer. It holds a chip that identifies you and gives us your location, but visually, it's respected by people in the know. It can open doors that would otherwise be closed to you. The cool thing about it, is that it contains holographic technology that adjusts your physiological frequency like a radio tuner. Think of it as a portkey. When you're fully trained on how to use it, you can go anywhere internationally. But right now, if you press your thumb into the little indention in the back, you'll be taken to a hub of transport and will be given assistance on getting the rest of the way to your destination. That particular ring is programmed to let you travel outside of your Ministry's regulated floo and portkey infrastructure. How's that for perks?"
That did sound good, but he was too exhausted to show much enthusiasm.
"I just want to get back to my daughter. Can it do that or do I have to apparate?"
He didn't want to risk it, not trusting the strength required to survive the warp to his body. He felt like he'd have to lay down beside Iece's bed and sleep for three days before having sufficient strength to tackle Hogwarts, McGonagall, and that cranky portrait. That didn't even include whatever Draco had to say.
"Take my arm, Mr Potter."
Hesitantly, he did. It was the way Bicksby offered it. It could've been yesterday that Dumbledore had done the same thing on the train platform the night they went looking for horcruxes together. For an instant, more pain than he could shove back down, rose up in his throat. He steadied himself, swallowed, and took the Admiral's arm.
It happened that quickly. Without any contorting or torrent of movement, he was simply left standing in the corridor outside of Iece's hospital room. Of course the CIUM would know about his need to be there. They probably knew everything about her. He stared, open mouthed at the Admiral, who disappeared without saying another word. If Bicksby wasn't a wizard, and didn't carry a wand, what was he?
That question took a backseat as he saw Draco come out of Iece's room. Always impeccably dressed, the way he moved gave his weariness away. Another evening was approaching, and Harry resigned himself to staying put. He told himself that he didn't need Draco's forgiveness. But he wanted it. He'd tell him to go back to their flat. Rest. You're with her constantly. I'll stay with her for the next few days. He would try to give Draco that much time to rest after putting him through this. Then he had to be off.
He slipped inside while Draco was gone. Iece, still asleep, now had the medical tent back around her. This time, it was transparent, with strips woven into it that Harry assumed held layers necessary to buffer her magic. She wouldn't have the tent unless there was a chance she could come very close to the surface of wakefulness. That meant, he hoped, Avi was no longer inducing unnatural sleep. Although his fight with Lucius had only been a blip of time, his body now felt like he'd been in the ring with a professional boxer all morning. The stress of not knowing how this would fare out, not knowing if he'd be looking at a prison cell from here on out, all came to the surface.
He wiped his burning eyes, realizing how stupid his actions were, and what they could still cost him. But what he felt for her, made him a slave to stupidity. He wanted peace as much as anyone, but he didn't have the luxury of maintaining it. Not when he knew that bastard had put her in this bed. Draco knew that as well as him. He couldn't be faulted for needing to take a stand against Lucius. He hated to be that guy who said it wasn't his fault, but well, it wasn't his fault. If Draco couldn't see that, then there was nothing for it.
He sat down beside her and touched her arm, hoping to see those eyes open. He braced himself, in case they did, for whatever color they were. That's when he noticed the bracelet. It bent, thin and delicate in appearance as tinsel, around her wrist. It was plain, but shimmered with a white-silver polish that hinted of its value. Lightweight and thinly delicate, it was meant to be worn daily, and to grow with her. He didn't like it, but he didn't want to fly off at the handle again. Draco would not have put it on her, if he didn't think it was helping her.
He leaned down and kissed her head. "I did it for you."
When she didn't open her eyes, he rubbed her temple and settled into a stare that lovingly stroked her hair until he heard the door open behind him. He turned.
Draco looked determined to hide his shock, and failed. "How? How are you here? How did they let you go?"
He didn't want to get into it, but he knew he had to tell him something. He pointed to his pin.
"My new friends. The CIUM."
"There was no release application approved for you. I checked. You were scheduled to await trial in Azkaban." His complexion told Harry that he fully anticipated having to endure the other side of that fate.
"They got me out, on the condition that I work with them. I know, nine lives."
"Central International of Unified Magic. I checked them out. They're just a decoy organization for a much larger and secretive operation. I can't find anything beyond Parliament decrees and regulations detailing their duties from country to country. They're registered as foreign policy administrators, but they have connections to British Defense, which doesn't let me go any further."
Harry shrugged. "They're the Men in Black. They gave me a training manual."
Draco's natural instinct was to launch into more questions, but he resisted. Harry could see him slam on the breaks of his thoughts and change direction.
"I see." He moved away from the door and located his briefcase in the corner of the room where he'd created a little "office" using a rolling stool and the bed-chair he slept in. A tray held his phone, planner, several books and file folders.
Harry told him, "Don't think I don't know how lucky I am, and that my freedom isn't a second chance to be with my daughter. With you. Don't think I don't care about how you feel towards me, after what I've done. It's only natural that you hate me."
"I don't hate you, I just don't want to talk about it."
"If you need to be angry, if you need to rage against me, we can blink out and I'll let you do your worst. I deserve it, but I'm not sorry."
"I'm not asking you to be sorry. Shut up about it."
"I need to know if you're going to be okay. I nearly killed your father. I tried to, and I walked away from breaking almost every Wizarding law I know. You're too calm. Am I going to wake up with a knife in my chest or what?"
"If you don't shut up about it, you might. Yes, he's my father and I can't help but care about him. But he's had a two-year grace period. You've held back as long as you could. You have your daughter to think about. We all knew it was coming."
"If you want to go see him, I'll stay with her. In fact, you should go home. You look worse than I do. Get some rest. I promise to stay out of trouble for the next twenty-four hours. I'm gonna be right here when she wakes up. I'm never going to leave you guys again."
"Not until you go back to Scotland. To Hogwarts, right?"
The question hooked in Draco's voice. Harry realized he was more upset about this prospect than he was about his father. But he was hiding so much at the moment, Harry couldn't be sure. Draco's self-contained movements and subdued manner reminded him of a tightly sealed jar under pressure. He would've felt so much better if he would just yell at him. But maybe he didn't deserve to feel better.
"It's my only connection to Snape. That portrait is the only lead I have. He can help her. Once I've found him, we can leave all of this behind us."
"What if you don't find him? What if this is just another chase you're off on?"
"Iece is worth it. I'm not wasting my time. I'm not wasting yours. I can't rest until I know she's safe, and Snape is the only person who might know what to do."
"Why do you have him on a pedestal? He only made school hell for you. Yeah, he was one of the good guys, but he did it with vinegar in his every move. He was a total bastard to you."
"Except for when he was saving my life. Both our lives. If it wasn't for him, you wouldn't be able to help me with Iece. I can forgive all of his unkind words, but I'll never be able to forget his actions. Anyone can make empty compliments. Useless. What are you willing to do, to prove who you are? That's what he showed me. Just let me find him, without losing hope in me."
Draco swelled with disgust. Whether for Harry's naive assumptions or how inadequate his replies felt, Harry couldn't be sure.
"I can't talk about this right now. I'm done arguing. You're going to do what you're going to do. Don't talk to me anymore about it."
In spite of his better judgment, Harry moved closer. "Draco, I'm not doing this to hurt you. You're family now. Iece thinks you're her father. I need you more than ever. Don't resent what I have to do to get her help."
Draco squared to face him. "Don't ask me to feel nothing as you go chasing another suicide mission. How many lives do you think you have? Iece is recovering and she'll do fine with the bracelet and the medications. We'll all adapt. You don't have to go back to Scotland, but you will because you're trying to bring someone back who doesn't want to have anything to do with you. How long are you going to ask me to watch you worship a dead man? And continue leaving us behind again and again? Not to mention the risk of prison? I can forgive your actions towards my father. We all know he deserved it, but don't ask me to dwell on your obsession with Snape. It's only taking you further away from me and with all this media attention and constant scandal and danger to you, there's only so much I can take and still hold myself together for her."
Now that he'd started, he couldn't stop. "I forced you out weeks ago, because I knew you were too upset to be around her. You couldn't rest, you couldn't let things go. I was exhausted. Then when you were gone, I realized how much I want you in our life. Not just living with you because we survive well together, but really wanting to make a life with you. I still want to, but you're so troubled, you keep unearthing the very thing we've been trying to bury. All this pain. Then you go off finding so-called solutions. Your search for Snape is just another empty solution that's going to deepen the hole you're digging for yourself.
"I can't go in with you on this one. One of us has to take care of her. I can't keep giving you chances to get it together. Yeah, you go find Snape. She and I have a life to get on with. We'd love it if you were there, but you're making other plans. And the more you talk, the more I'm alone with what I have to do. So no, I don't want to hear anymore about Hogwarts. Act like her father while you're still here, because we both know that a trial is coming, not to mention whatever fresh hell you're about to dig up with that portrait. Just be here for her, and stop talking about anything else. That's what I need you to do."
Struck mute by his declaration, Harry tried to process it fairly. Sudden movement caught his peripheral, and he noticed that Jipsy had apparated into the room. He tried to dismiss her but had to do a double take. Both he and Draco stared, their argument well and truly interrupted.
She held a serving tray. She wore an especially plush velour jumpsuit today, extra bobbles on her ears, and what looked to be several sets of dangling costume jewelry, that looked suspiciously like real diamonds. The kind some old-fashioned movie star might've worn. Quite vintage. But the crowning piece of her ensemble, was a fluffy white fur, roped around her shoulders. Three bands of it wound around her little body. She didn't really have shoulders to support it, but it held so oddly around her, that Harry assumed she was using magic to keep it up on her body. It was clearly made for a full-bodied woman many times her size.
Smiling, she seemed to bat her eyes, imitating something she's seen witches do, and sauntered over with the tray, placing it at the foot of Iece's bed. Her walk was a saunter, if Harry had to put a verb to it, but it was utterly practiced and unnatural on her spindly elf legs. It took him and Draco a minute of staring at her to realize she was doing a great impersonation of someone.
He had to look closely. Something glistened on her face, like a veneer of shiny oil. It took him a moment to realize she'd smeared herself with a very pale, translucent powder that was no where near her skin color. "Is she wearing make-up?" He tried to keep it to a whisper that only Draco could hear.
Jipsy smiled, flashing her tiny teeth. "The Weasley's came calling. Mrs. Weasley has sent you dinner. Jipsy delivers it in her finest attire."
He and Draco looked at one another, before deliberately leaving it at, "Thank you, Jipsy."
Draco rolled his eyes at the mention of the Weasleys. "Food, at a time like this. No, they're not being nosy at all. Just concerned."
Harry said, too loudly, "There's nothing wrong with sending a meal to us."
"They're snooping. 's been here twice already, trying to feed me some concoction of rice and eggs that she seems to think is a casserole. Then she pulls out some fucking random houseplant. What, I'm so dysfunctional I can't feed myself? Now that you're out, she needs to send more food? It's not affectionate, it's inappropriate and I'm not falling for it."
"You've talked to Mrs. Weasley?"
"She tried to get me to talk about you. I didn't tell her anything. Probably pushed by Arthur, on behalf of the Ministry. All homey goodness and frumpy housedresses. The nerve of her, thinking I owe her any explanation on your behalf. I told her as much."
"What did she say?"
"Fussed over Iece, made a show of reaching out to me. The usual. When I didn't touch the food, she made some comment about a houseplant that would speed up everyone's recovery and brighten the room." He nodded towards a drooping cluster of yellow and green leaves planted in a miniature teapot.
"That thing. She made a second trip just to bring me that thing. She was after information."
"She thinks of me as a son. I'm sure she thought you might be able to give her more insight."
"Look, I know she's not a bad person. But she is sneaky. She was pumping me for information, for the Ministry."
"Draco, the Weasley's are a different sort than you're used to. Especially her. She uses any handmade thing she can to express how she feels. It's her nature. Food, especially. That's what normal family's do."
"Harry, I'm not stupid. Look at that ugly plant. How is that helping anyone? I actually searched it for listening charms."
"Draco."
"I'm telling you, that woman was after information. She's batty because, who wouldn't be after birthing and raising a bunch of red-headed lunatics, but she's sharp. She knows more than she lets on. I don't know what's worse, a stupid Weasely or one that can actually think. They're both dangerous."
"Why are you threatened by a mother? I'd trust her with my life."
Draco looked like the statement made him ill, but sighed, "You weren't here. You didn't see how she looked at me, as if I'm the one to blame for your arrest."
"I'm sure she wasn't thinking that."
A loud clatter interrupted them as tray and dishes crashed to the floor. Jipsy was quick to freeze the fall, but not before a few of the bowls were overturned. The mess was easy enough for her to clean up without blinking, but her clumsiness looked strange to Harry. Out of place.
"Are you all right?" He asked.
"Excuse me, sir. I tripped over my beautiful fur. It won't happen again."
"As long as you're okay."
She stroked the thing spilling around her. "Do you like it, sir?"
"What, your fur? Oh, it's lovely."
She smiled to his compliment, appearing quite satisfied, before announcing. "I must go and fetch replacement dishes for you both."
"Oh, don't trouble yourself…"
She was gone before he could finish his sentence.
"Is it me, or is she acting a bit odd?"
Draco made a pinched face. "She's acting weird. Has been all day. She probably thought you weren't going to get out. Now she's over doing it."
That sounded off, but Harry didn't want to make things worse. He turned back to Iece and bent to kiss her. It pleased him to see that the necklace talisman he'd given her was still there. Her coloring had returned to normal and she responded to his touch by turning her head into his hand. Good, she'd broken free of the medicated sleep. He was tempted to wake her on purpose, but decided not to rush it. If she stayed awake all night, then he'd play with her.
Jipsy popped back in. "Her color is good now. The bracelet helps her find her balance."
Harry startled. She appeared inches beside him. She'd replaced her white fur with a mink wrap. Even he couldn't be sure how he knew it was real, and made during an era that hadn't even considered the phrase "cruelty free." It had a smoky brown color, and looked extremely soft to touch. Again, it held the breadth and cut of being made to drape on a woman of ample bosom, and spilled around Jipsy like a fluffy dress.
"Another one? Wow, that's… that's something."
"Yes, Jipsy will wear Mistress's stoles today. And I almost forgot, Mrs. Weasely brought a special tonic to settle Draco's stomach. Must run to get it."
She popped out.
"Stomach"? Harry looked at Draco. "What's wrong with your stomach?"
"Fuck if I know. That woman refuses to mind her own business."
"Are you sick?"
Draco sounded like he was repeating himself for the hundreth time. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Who wouldn't have an upset stomach with all of this going on? Yes, I made up some bullshit excuse that I wasn't feeling well enough to eat her damn food. Yes, my stomach is bothering me. Do you see why I want you in one place, right here, where I can see you staying out of trouble? I've fucking lost twenty pounds worrying about you and your daughter."
His voice had grown louder and more tense as he spoke. He caught himself and stopped. "I'm sorry, I can't talk about it."
He made a point of taking files and notes out of his briefcase. "Avi promised to come back before eight. I'm going to try to get some work done while you're here and not getting into trouble. Forgive me if I don't have the temperament for conversation right now."
Harry watched him set up. He could've transfigured everything he needed but he was probably trying not to use unnecessary magic around Iece.
He wanted to say, 'Thank you,' but bit his lip on it. It wasn't an appropriate reply for Draco's words, but he appreciated that Draco at least admitted how lousy he was feeling, and how he really did blame Harry on some level. This hidden honesty was the real forgiveness that Harry wanted. The world could turn against him, but he still needed Draco to believe in him and trust him.
A thought occurred to him. Even though Jipsy had vanished again, he whispered, "Why does Jipsy have such fancy things? I mean, does she have hobbies, collections? Should we reward her with something?"
Draco made a face. "Am I supposed to know what an elf considers a special occasion? "She's showing off. Maybe she's just glad you're not in prison."
Harry took it on the chin. "Or maybe she's working very hard to cheer you up. It feels like a deliberate distraction."
"She is distracting. Unless you're really in a mood to eat, I'm sending her home for the evening."
"Let her feed us. She obviously wants to do something helpful."
"I'm supposed to have an appetite behind this?"
"Then admit it, you're pissed sideways and disgusted at me beyond words. Just yell at me, already."
Draco shushed him. "Keep your voice down. If I wanted to yell at you, I would. One of us has to put Iece first. Not in front of her, it's not worth it. As much as I'd love to confront and duel every asshole who's had it coming, I can't leave her side or risk anymore unconscious tantrums from her. And neither should you."
"Why'd you have to put it that way? You're not being honest. The more reasonable you pretend to be, the angrier you are. You know I don't want to leave her. I'm not hungry, either. But I'm willing to sit down with you guys and act like a family for one night. If you want to, yell at me, we can apparate home and I'll let you get it out of your system. I'll take it."
There was no compromise in the way Draco looked at him. No humor, no meeting him halfway. "That's not a solution."
"Then go visit your dad. I'll stay here."
He started to turn back to the bed, but Jipsy was there. "Oh!"
This time she wore a voluptuous thick rope of black pelt so shiny and well-preserved, Harry was afraid it might still be alive. His eyes scanned it for claws. It slipped, long-haired, and slid against its own agile softness as she pulled at it and blew on hairs that still held their luster. She carried a fresh tray. He didn't have the heart to tell her to take it away. She promptly began setting unpacking it, blowing fur away from her mouth.
He tried to keep silent for the few minutes it should've taken her, but her movements were extra fastidious instead of her usual practical speed. She hummed and took time to rearrange the new dark mink falling around her shoulders. At least he thought it was a mink. He honestly couldn't pin down what creature had given its life for its plush black fur.
He pretended not to be interested as she twisted the thing around her short body, tied it into a loose knot, held by magic at her hips, or what passed for hips, and proceeded to set dishes and plates on the table at the foot of Iece's bed.
A glimmer caught his attention. It might've been an onyx, an oval, inlaid with a tiny human profile of alabaster. He couldn't be sure of the materials, but that's what it looked like. The edge of the onyx was encircled in the most convincing rhinestones he'd ever seen. Jewelry was not his thing, but the stole and broach combination looked so authentic and expensive that he had to ask.
"Another one. How many do you have, Jipsy?"
She spun and a string of black pearls swung out, nearly striking him.
"All of them. Mistress left all the trunks to me, even though I was not sworn to serve the family. She said that I would take good care of them."
Harry saw that the pearls were glazed to shine like beads of black caviar, and attached to the broach. They spiraled around the stole, draping along it.
The sound of disbelief and irony escaped Draco, though when Harry looked at him, he denied any emotion.
"They're in great shape, you must've kept your promise to care for them," Harry supported her. "You must've been such a help to them, that it was the least she could do."
"Yes, sir. She knew my liking for her styles and shiny bobs. She always promised them to me. The will kicked up quite a bit of dust among her kin. But they let me be when they went through the trunks and took all the stuff I didn't want. I only wanted the soft things that still have the scent of Mistress's lotion and perfumes. I found other stuffs at the bottoms of the trunks. False bottoms."
Interest pricked up in Harry. His eyebrows raised as she spoke.
"This is Mistress's thirty-fifth birthday present from 1871's Mireai Charlotte's premiere Collection of Women's Fashions. It was a gift from her husband. The pearls were harvested on his brother's clam farm. He promised pearls as midnight as her eyes and spelled them to shine brighter than diamonds. It was one of her favorites. The rain spoiled her tea-party that day, so he gave it to her early, to cheer her up. Black was her favorite color.
"So you have a lot of those, do you?"
"Yes, it amused Mistress so much to see me wear them. That was our secret fun. It always made her smile and shriek with joy. Sometimes, it was the only way I could cheer her up. She was often sad, having lost a daughter. She left me the lot of them."
Harry turned to Draco, who kept perfectly still. She's trying to tell us something.
Did his arrest have anything to do with stretching her determination to help him? He turned back to Jipsy. She held the broach outstretched to him.
"Have a look. I can't speak her name to you, or even write it down, but maybe you can read the engravings and embroidery on her belongings."
Her fingers turned the back of the broach over for him. He squinted, making out elegant calligraphy. But it swirled into text that appeared to move and blur so that he could not understand it. He was so fucking tired of these games.
"Give me your wand," he said to Draco. He had no idea where his own is. It was a snap command, and it must've sounded humorless enough to convince Draco not to argue with him. He practically snatched it, taking his impatience out on the offensive text. "Revelet Deus absconsa tua." Reveal your secrets. This was a basic exposing and lifting of charms that distorted text. Only, he didn't know what made him think to use it. If he'd thought about it, he wouldn't have tried it. It wouldn't have been strong enough. That's why he said it in parsaltongue, shocking himself and Draco at the same time. He hadn't even wanted to be reminded that he still knew parsaltongue. It was forceful and it worked.
The text read, Ladoria Prince.
"Who's Ladoria Prince?" He gives the wand back. Draco looks hesitant to take it.
"There's only one Prince I know of." And he'd learned that the hard way. As if he could ever forget that name. Having carried Snape's old text book that last year, using those spells without knowing who had created them, still tormented him if he thought too much about it. The scars left on Draco's body, covered by magic to keep guilt at bay, were very much apart of that regret.
Jipsy had confirmed as much to him.
"Ladoria was Snape's Grandmother. She gave you gifts."
Jipsy's pleasure spilled out of her smile. She looked on him like a doting parent.
"You have all of her trunks? In a vault of your own? At Gringott's?"
"Only her clothes and sentiments, and the jewelry her relatives didn't find. I didn't mean to keep those, but no one would speak with me after they searched the trunks. Her husband had been dead for years. They only wanted the most expensive things. Would you like
to see them for yourself?"
He grinned at Draco and turned back to her. "Why yes, I would like to take a closer look at your lovely, perfectly preserved collection from 1871."
"Jipsy would love for you to see her vault."
Harry searched Draco for approval. Draco lowered his head, scratched his chin and visibly reasserted his immersion into his work. Thrumming fingers betrayed his failed concentration.
He blurted, "Is now really a good time for another adventure? You plan on leaving in a few days. You just barely escaped prison tonight. Five minutes ago, you swore you'd be with Iece for the next few days. What has happened to your attention span?"
"Nothing. It's only a few minutes. She's obviously found a loophole. And you're acting like you can hardly stand the sight of me. What's it matter if I disappear for a few minutes?"
"Your daughter needs you more than some dusty old trunks. It shouldn't matter what I think of you right now, or feel."
"Like hell."
"You should want to be here, regardless. And you obviously don't. Can you please just admit that?"
"Can you please just admit how much you hate me right now? Stop all this fake civility shit. You've got something going on in that pretty white head of yours and you're making me out to be the problem, when I'm only trying to solve problems."
"Fine. Go. You're off the hook." He turned back to his paper work.
"Is there something else going on? This isn't just about your dad, is it?"
"It doesn't matter. You wanna go, go. Me and Nicee will just live our lives in and out of hospitals, waiting for you to come home to us. Who wouldn't love that?"
Harry saw Jipsy's eyes grow wider. She knew what was coming before Draco could look up again.
Deliberately clamping down on his scream, Harry swung with one arm and knocked all of Draco's papers and files off of his make-shift desk. His food went with it. Cup and fork bounced off the floor, splattering the parameter. He didn't give Draco time to react. He grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him to his feet. Draco's back hit the door, knocking an "umph" out of him as he gripped Harry's arms to steady them both.
His mouth twisted, ready to retaliate, but Harry covered it with his hand.
"No! You do not get to talk. I'm so close to answers. You don't get to hide behind one more fucking passive-aggressive comment. What is going on with you? You better tell me, I'll find out. Just like I'll find Snape, just like I'll find a cure for my daughter. You're the only person in the world who understands me, who has the right to question me, who I'd let hit or scream at me when I fuck up. But you don't have the right to sit there lying to me. Something is killing you inside, and I want to know what it is. If you don't have my back, no one does. I can't solve Iece's problem if I don't have your support. Everything I'm trying to do, depends on knowing you're here with her. So stop talking to me like I'm an idiot."
Draco heated beneath Harry's weight, but refused to break his resolve. His cheeks flushed angrily. That only made Harry arrive at his point faster.
"This can go two ways. If I didn't think you wanted to kill me, I'd kiss you till we burned a hole in this wall. If sex could fix our screwed up relationship, I'd rearrange your guts with my dick right now. But I know I can't do whatever I want. I know you're hurting and you can't help it. I know I have to find a way to settle all this shit and stop leaving you two. But Draco, you sent me away first. And that got me wanting answers. That got me ready to face what I've been running from for years. I know this is not exactly a day of celebration for you, but I would rather you bash my head against the wall, than pretend you're not dying inside.
"You're lousy at it. Now what the hell is wrong with you? And don't use your father as an excuse. You know I have to leave and settle this as soon as I can. What are you hiding from me?"
Now that he had Harry's full attention, Draco swallowed the words he couldn't speak. Behind them, Jipsy moved to the bed and cast a noise-canceling charm around Iece.
It takes Draco a moment of climbing down from his tension. He tries to compose himself in Harry's grip, the fight leaving him.
He said softly, "I'll tell you when I'm ready." The words are hardly out before he's averting his eyes.
At that moment, his lips look incredibly soft and tender to Harry, who wants to make good on that kiss. But Harry settles for relief.
Finally, honesty.
The desire to kiss away shadows in Draco's face, isn't fading. He wishes they could stop fighting long enough to convince Draco that he meant what he said about fucking him. Sometimes, that language was more effective and understood than anything. Than gentleness. As tired as he was, as strung out from beating Lucius, if he thought it would convince him that he still loved and needed him, he would've pulled him to the floor and proven it. He could've, out of sheer desperation to keep him believing in the both of them.
He leaned in and brushed his lips against Draco's cheek. This was his way of asking. Of begging. When Draco didn't turn his head, he kissed his way to his mouth, covering it gently. He found himself entering, invited, but with reserve. That was fine. He'd take it.
They kissed until tears could be seen in Draco's lashes. Harry smiled, relieved, and laughing inwardly at both of them.
Draco sniffed back the tears stinging his sinuses. "What if we can't be together?"
"Nonsense." Harry held him, certain that Jipsy was doing whatever was necessary behind him, to compensate for parental supervision right now.
Draco continued, "It's so hard with you. But it's even harder without you. What if we never get the hang of this?"
"As soon as we get these fucking demons off our backs, we'll be fine. We just ran away from it for so long. We were trying to survive. Don't give up. We'll be fine."
He heard the magical indication of Jipsy apparating. Dishes and all disappeared with her. He didn't turn around.
Draco mumbled, "You've missed out on the vault tonight. I shouldn't hold you back."
"There will be other opportunities." Now he realizes that he should've said that earlier. His arms encircle Draco's back. Though Draco is pleasingly broad in the chest, his slenderness makes his shoulders seem narrow in Harry's arms. His back feels too slender, barely cushioning his ribs. He fits inside Harry's arms because he has a way of sinking into the touch. Harry's body has the ability to mold around him. He finds the embrace both comforting and concerning at the same time. He hugged him tighter.
"For the next three days, I'm not leaving your side."
Draco choked, restraining his emotion. Harry knew that it was the rare sound of a Malfoy with gratefulness stuck in his throat.