Title: both that morning equally lay
Collection: HD Remix 2021
Rating: T
Category: M/M
Fandom: Harry Potter
Relationship: Draco/Harry
Character: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy
Additional tags: Epilogue Compliant, POV Harry Potter, Divorced Harry Potter, Widowed Draco Malfoy, Past Relationship, Ron Weasley is a good friend, Auror Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy is a good parent, Reconnecting, Second Chances, HD Remix Exchange 2021, Abduction
Word count: 4330
Summary: Head Auror Potter takes every case seriously, but some cases are personal. When Scorpius Malfoy goes missing, Harry can't help but be involved, but he'll need to move beyond past regrets and embrace his present.
Author's notes:
This is from an AO3 based fest. You can find the story and author mentioned below on AO3 under those names.
I was paired with Frenchmarshmallow for the Remix fest. When I was looking through her stories, I found one with this adorable button (thanks, Alexis) of an Auror recruit named Sam Conley. He's such an adorably sweet character, but what caught my attention more was his close attention to his Head Auror and the Head Auror's reactions to a certain blond. It teased just enough that my brain immediately started spinning up a backstory for the characters. So, here it is, Harry's POV of Auror Conley on the Case. It can be read alone, but it is definitely a companion piece to the original story and will be best enjoyed by reading it after the original.
The title is a line from the Robert Frost poem "The Road Not Taken". Thanks to B and E for the quick betas.
both that morning equally lay
By JanieOhio
Harry stands outside the gate, looking down the path leading to Malfoy Manor, its white marble almost pink in the setting sun.
His team murmurs behind him. The Aurors prepare to enter and investigate, but Harry stands frozen, willing himself to move.
At least he'd left the new recruits back at the Ministry. They'd been watching him with wide eyes and fresh faces, and it made him feel incredibly old. Ron's Patronus cutting through the end of their welcome meeting had put a damper on the otherwise cheerful occasion.
"Code 17-11 at the Malfoys'. We're meeting you there."
Harry had felt the blood drain from his face. 17-11. Abduction. At the Malfoys'. Merlin. Harry couldn't let himself think about the possibilities but went about preparing himself for whatever he might find. All the little tricks he'd accumulated through his years as Auror, and now Head Auror, were tucked into place.
And not one of them would protect him from the greatest threat.
Himself.
But he's here now, and the gate opens. Ron nods to Harry, their years as partners preempting any need for verbal communication. Ron is Deputy Head, and he'll lead the investigation. Harry's only here because Ron knows he wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Couldn't be anywhere else. Harry's presence is only a courtesy between friends.
Harry walks slowly up the long path. The other Aurors are already inside and spreading out, looking for whatever clues they might need, leaving Harry to battle with his thoughts. Flashes of memories drift through his mind as the cool December air numbs his face and fingers.
Seventeen years old—terrified, being dragged up the path by Snatchers. Hermione's screams cutting through the night and the flash of a silver blade as they escaped.
Eighteen years old—nervous, his stomach cramping, carrying Malfoy's wand and unsure of what his reception would be.
Twenty years old—despondent, alone, leaving the house of his now-ex-lover who would follow his family's wishes and marry Astoria Greengrass.
Thirty-eight years old—resigned, his twelve-year-old son by his side excited to spend an afternoon with his new best friend.
Thirty-eight years old—confused, his divorce newly finalised, having a drink with his son's friends' father, sharing a kiss and fleeing the manor, fleeing the memories, fleeing the old feelings.
He's avoided Draco since, allowing Al to visit Scorpius by Floo so Harry could pretend nothing had happened. That he hadn't opened himself up yet again to what would inevitably crush him. He couldn't allow that to happen. He had too much at stake.
"Harry," Ron's familiar voice breaks into Harry's visions.
Harry shakes his head, focusing on the sounds of his men swarming through the manor as he turns to his best friend. "Scorpius?"
Ron's crystal blue eyes, now so much like Arthur's with crows' feet at the edges and slight lines of age above his brows, droop in sympathy. "It's like Malfoy said. He's been taken. There's no sign of ransom demands, no reason to believe he'd leave on his own."
Harry closes his eyes and pictures the teen as he last saw him. Pale hair, grey eyes, and a sweet smile that lights up a room. He's nearly always happy when Harry sees him, usually framed by his two best friends, Harry's son and niece. Al, Rose, and Scorp are always together; his disappearance will devastate the other children.
But at the moment, Harry's thoughts keep going back to Draco. Merlin, he must be out of his mind with worry.
"He is, though he won't admit it," Ron mumbles.
"I didn't realise I'd said that out loud." Harry looks around, wondering who might have overheard him. He can't risk throwing his and Draco's past into the mix of this investigation. It's too important.
"He's angry and doesn't seem to believe we'll take this seriously." Ron clasps Harry's shoulder. "They're taking evidence back to the Ministry now. Go back and supervise, see what you can find."
"But—"
"Harry, you know you shouldn't be here. He's upset enough."
"I can't leave him alone like this." Harry's voice barely comes out, but Ron understands him.
"Pansy is with him. There's nothing you can do here."
Harry nods and swallows. "Right. I should go. He doesn't need me."
He can't bear to see the pity he feels pouring off Ron. Ron, the only one who knows the full extent of Harry's dealings with Draco. Of his relationship, or lack thereof.
Shake it off, Potter, he tells himself, straightening his shoulders and striding to the Apparition point. You have a job to do and a child to find. He needs you.
But whether Harry means Scorpius or Draco, even he's not sure.
Three days later, there's still no definitive progress. They've eliminated all possible avenues of investigation: all the random leads, old death threats, and known human trafficking rings. It's as though Scorpius has just disappeared.
Harry's not willing to accept that as a possibility. Someone, somewhere, knows something. He just needs to talk to Draco.
"I don't think this is a good idea," Ron says again, for probably the twentieth time that day.
"There's something, Ron. I just need to find it."
"He's told us everything he can think of."
Harry turns on his friend, irritation prickling across his shoulders, but he manages to keep his voice down to a low hiss. "And do you think you know him better than me? If there's anything else there, I'll find it."
"Harry—"
"No. Just, let me do this."
"Fine," Ron says, grinding his teeth. "But we need to make sure there are witnesses. We need this interview fully documented so there's no way to claim any type of coercion or misconduct."
"Fine," Harry echoes, knowing Ron is right and hating every moment of it. He just needs to see Draco, to make sure he's okay, to be allowed to help him more directly. "Is Marcus still on this?"
Ron nods. "I haven't had a reason to pull him off the case, but I've been watching closely."
"Sanctimonious little bastard," Harry mutters. "If he wasn't so effective in closing cases, I'd have gotten rid of him ages ago. That chip on his shoulder only seems to get worse each year."
"Yeah. Why don't you grab Conley to scribe? He's eager, and he's a good kid. He'll balance Marcus out in there."
Harry nods, thinking back to the baby-faced recruit he's seen watching his every move. "Thank you."
Ron gives Harry a little smile as he turns to walk towards the interview room. "I hope you know what you're doing, Harry."
"Me, too."
Harry hesitates outside Interview Room Two and turns to his companions. Marcus, a righteous smirk on his copper-coloured face, offers a distinct contrast to Conley. The recruit looks so young, with light brown curls falling over his forehead and eager eyes.
"He's waiting inside. I'll be conducting the interview. Conley, you're writing down everything, what he says, what he doesn't. He's sneaky, so we need to be careful."
Conley nods, and Harry's almost surprised he's not already taking notes. Harry wants to smile at the kid's eagerness but tucks it away for later and turns to his deputy.
"Ron, don't antagonise him, okay? He won't talk if he feels cornered."
Ron rolls his eyes, but this is Draco and if there's anyone other than himself who's likely to get under the man's skin, it's Ron.
"Marcus, I'll let you know the usual way if I need you to take over." John Marcus is a good interrogator, one of the best, but Harry has no intention of letting his vitriol spill over onto Draco, even if it is technically his case. Harry will control this interview. "Okay, everyone, let's get this done."
He takes a deep breath and opens the door, leading the way into the room.
It takes everything inside Harry not to visibly react, but he can feel his heartbeat quicken. Draco's sitting on a metal chair, his hands folded on the table as though he's at a pleasant Sunday brunch and not in a Ministry interrogation room. His hair is longer than when Harry last saw him, curling slightly around his ears and across his brow. At first glance, he appears calm and pleasant, but Harry can see the turmoil and worry in the depths of his eyes.
He is deathly afraid for his son.
Harry lets out a long breath. He can work with that. He understands that. He just needs to forget the rest and focus. This isn't his ex-lover, this is just a frightened father with a healthy distrust of the Ministry.
Harry sits down across from him and begins.
Four hours. Four fucking hours of taunts and barbs. Some from Draco, most from Marcus before Harry finally lost his patience and kicked him out, and a few from Ron and Harry when they couldn't resist being baited.
But finally, Harry gets somewhere. Not with finding Scorpius, unfortunately, but, hopefully, with Draco.
He sits in his locked office and pours through the notes Conley has taken of Draco's testimony. Everything backs up what Harry already knows. Scorpius is a good kid. There's nothing he's done to bring this on. No reason anyone would have to take him, beyond the obvious revenge on the Malfoys.
And Draco, well, he's not even in the public eye anymore. Most have forgotten him, satisfied with the results of the trials and the punishment handed down to Lucius and Narcissa.
Most.
It's Harry's only real lead, and he finally convinced Draco to turn over the threatening letters he'd received over the years. There isn't a ton, but there are enough to frustrate Harry that they hadn't already been brought to his attention. Some of the missives date back to the months soon after the war. Back when Harry and Draco were…
Harry shakes away the thought, not letting it fully form. There was no time for that.
Anyway, Draco hadn't brought them to him then, but he would have thought Draco would have been more forthcoming at least now, in light of Scorpius's disappearance.
Noise by the door startles him and he jerks his head up, his wand already drawn.
"How'd you get in here?"
Draco rolls his eyes and shuts the door with a wave of his wand. "You'd think you'd change up your locking charms during your time as an Auror. Really, Potter, the same spells you used twenty years ago?"
Harry's cheeks burn as he lowers his wand. "Breaking into the Head Auror's office will get you into trouble."
Draco smirks, and there's a gleam of something behind his eyes, but then it's gone, and Harry almost wonders if he imagined it.
Sitting down in the chair across from Harry's desk, Draco crosses his legs and his eyes are piercing. "You think someone took my son because of me. Because of what I am."
"Were. Because of what you were," Harry corrects.
Draco waves it away. "My goddaughter, Fenella… Is she in danger?"
Harry considers. "I don't have any reason to believe she would be."
"She's Pansy and Theo's daughter."
"Have they received any threats like yours?"
Draco scoffs. "There's not a single Slytherin from our time at Hogwarts who hasn't. Especially anyone whose family was marked. So yes, though I don't think they've received as many."
Harry nods, writing it down. "I'll check it out and put some protection on her."
Draco's shoulders fall in relief. "Thank you."
"Draco," Harry begins, and his voice is tender, like a caress. He nearly doesn't recognise it as his own. "I have every free resource available working on this case. We'll find Scorpius."
Draco closes his eyes and he looks so defeated, so alone.
Before he can think of what he's doing, Harry is up and out of his chair, squatting down in front of Draco and putting his hand on the other man's knee. "Please let me help you."
A single tear falls from the corner of Draco's right eye, and Harry reaches up, unable to stop himself from wiping it away.
Draco grabs Harry's hand, his eyes open now and on Harry's, and Harry couldn't move if his life depended on it.
"Are you going to run away again?" There's accusation there and something else Harry can't quite place.
A lump forms in his throat, and Harry's voice is barely a whisper as he forces out his response. "You sent me away. You chose your family duty over me."
"I'd do it all over again," Draco says, his voice low and smooth and without hesitation. There's no sarcasm or question in his voice, only certainty. "I wouldn't have Scorpius otherwise, and I'll never regret that."
Harry looks away. Twenty years and though the cut has healed, the pain is still there.
Draco's voice is quieter now, almost gentle. "And you wouldn't have James, Al, and Lily. Can you really say we didn't make the right choice?"
Tears are burning Harry's eyes, and he knows Draco's right. How can he say his children were a mistake? That'd he choose another path given the chance? He can't. They're everything to him. Any other life is just not something he's willing to consider.
But then there's Draco. The boy he fell in love with, and Harry can see the boy peeking through the man before him.
"We have another chance now. Are you going to run away?" Draco asks again.
"Draco…"
Draco waits, let's Harry turn the question over in his mind until the words tumble from his mouth.
"No," Harry whispers, unable to answer any other way. "I'm not going to run. I'm going to find Scorpius and bring him home to you."
Draco gives a short nod and leans in, hovering his lips an inch above Harry's, his breath, so familiar, like an oft-remembered dream, brushing over him. "Bring him home and then we'll start over. Me, and you, and the kids. Find him, Harry."
Harry pulls back, not letting himself complete the promised kiss. Not yet. He has a job to finish first.
Eight days later. Eight gruelling, intense, heartbreaking days later. Eight days that he has to tell his son his best friend is still missing. Eight days that he has to look at Draco and tell him he hasn't found his child. Eight bloody days before Harry can summon the Patronus to deliver the message he's been aching to send: "You were right, we found them. I'll bring Scorpius back soon, hang in there."
They're so close he can almost taste it, but it ends up being another half a day before they get Scorpius's location from their suspect: The Forbidden Forest, of all places. Harry can barely stand the waiting as they plan the rescue. Twenty years of experience as an Auror means he knows how important preparation is, especially when innocents are involved, but he needs to go now. He needs to get this child back to his father. Back to Draco.
When Ron finishes talking, Harry lets out the breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. "Okay, everybody's clear? Let's go."
He reaches for the Portkey, waits for the team—Ron, Conley, Marcus, Smythe, and Woods—to grab on, then taps his wand to the frisbee and they disappear.
When Harry lands, a movement to his left has him pointing his wand, a Stunning Spell on his lips. Ron's faster, though, and throws a hand to Harry's chest.
"Draco!" Harry nods to Ron to secure the scene and runs to Draco's side, wrapping his hand around Draco's upper arm to keep him close enough to Apparate out of there at the slightest sign of trouble. "You can't be here! I told you to trust me with this."
Draco narrows his eyes, and Harry can see steel in their depths. Harry has to strain to hear him when he speaks. "He's my son, Harry. I'm not waiting on the sidelines while you do the heavy lifting. Not this time."
He's torn. He wants Draco to go home where it's safe, but he understands. If this were one of his own children, Auror or not, he'd be here. "Fine, but you stay close to me and do exactly what I say."
A flash of relief crosses Draco's face, and he gives a curt nod.
Harry turns and stalks back to the group, but he can still feel the heat of Draco's arm on his palm.
"He's coming with us."
"What? You can't be serious!" Marcus yells at Harry, his wand still aimed at Malfoy as though he were the threat.
Harry catches Ron's eye, waiting for his response. Discipline at this level is Ron's job as Deputy, but if Ron won't send the man away, Harry will. Honestly, he should have pulled him off the case days ago when he'd harassed Draco during the interview, but Marcus had kept edging the line, not daring to fully cross it until now.
But questioning Harry in front of the team during an active mission? That's career suicide, and Harry has had enough.
Ron nods, making his decision, and turns to Marcus. "Malfoy's coming. Either you get on board or you can go back to the office. What will it be?"
Marcus growls and Disapparates, and Harry's surprised that Ron even gave him a choice. He figures his best friend is going soft in his old age.
"Okay," Harry says, eager to get things moving, "Ron and Conley, you're going this way as per the plan. Draco and I will take the other side. Smythe, Woods, you stay here and make sure they don't backtrack. Send a Patronus if you need help or find something. Be careful."
Draco draws his wand and waits, and Harry nods. "Come on."
They walk for several minutes through the dense trees, and Harry tries to ignore the memory of walking through the forest with his ghostly companions, walking to his—
"Do you remember the last time we searched through these woods together?" Draco says, his voice slightly wistful.
Harry snorts, thankful for the distraction. "Yeah, I remember. I'm not sure who was more afraid, you or Fang."
"Damned dog left us at the first sign of trouble."
Harry stops and slaps a hand across Draco's chest, halting him in place. He was almost positive he'd heard the cracking of a stick. It could be an animal or a Centaur, but… There, a flash of white, like a shirt sleeve. It's a person, for sure, just around the large rock outcropping ahead.
Draco's wand is up, and he steps closer to Harry. "You go high, I'll go low," Draco whispers.
Harry nods and sends out a quick Patronus to the rest of the team—thankful, once again, that his mastery of the charm allows him to send them silently and without the bright light they typically emit—then turns to Draco. "If Scorpius is there, cover me while I throw a shield over him."
A hand reaches for Harry's free one, and there's a quick squeeze. "Thank you."
"Always, Draco," Harry whispers, then he steps around the rocks and begins throwing spells.
One of Harry and Ginny's favourite arguments, when they were married, was why it always took him so long to come home after a mission. She never understood why he'd close a case at four in the afternoon and not make it home until late in the night, and he could never understand why she couldn't understand.
She was never cut out to be the wife of an Auror. She was never cut out to be his wife, for that matter, but she was his friend and the mother to his children, and he was grateful to her and the years they'd had together.
And Merlin, is he ever grateful that he can now just close his case, sign off on the piles of paperwork that accompanied it, and wind down quietly in his office without worrying about pissing her off. He's been at it all night and the exhaustion is settling in, but instead of hurrying home, he leans back in his desk chair and puts his feet up on his desk before glancing at the clock. Eleven in the morning. He's getting too old for this shit.
Closing his eyes, resting them for just a moment, he heaves a sigh of contentment.
They did it. They found Scorpius and arrested the men involved, and Harry has never felt quite so satisfied with a case. The moment when he watched Draco be reunited with his son will be etched in his memory forever. Draco had held on so tight, and Scorpius didn't look like a teenager, but like a little boy finally safe in the arms of his father.
Harry had wanted to join them, to be there for them, but it wasn't his turn. Not yet. But soon.
"Potter," a voice drawls from the doorway. "When are you going to change your locking spells?"
Harry keeps his eyes closed but lets his lips twitch into a smile. Soon indeed. "That would defeat the purpose."
Draco scoffs. "To let people in?"
Harry cracks an eye. "To let you in."
Draco lets out a low hum, stopping next to Harry's chair and hitching a hip on the side of Harry's desk, next to where his feet are propped. "And whyever would you choose to do that?"
It only takes a split second for Harry to make his decision. He moves quickly, and Draco lets out a gasp as Harry's feet are pulled down and he's standing against Draco in one quick move. Their chests are nearly touching, and Harry can feel Draco's breath quicken across his face.
"I'm not running," Harry says, and it sounds like both a threat and a promise. Maybe it really is both, Harry's not sure, but Draco doesn't ask for clarification. Instead, he just pulls Harry's lips to his.
Draco tastes like Harry remembers, like earl grey tea and citrus, but the scrape of his unshaven chin against Harry's is new and anchors Harry in the now. A moan escapes Draco, and Harry steps closer, reaching a hand up into Draco's hair, tugging gently as Draco deepens the kiss.
Harry pushes his hips forwards into Draco's, and the feel of Draco's cock, hard against Harry's, makes his mind go blank.
A gasp and the sound of parchment falling crashes through Harry's consciousness, and he jumps back, suddenly alert. Auror Conley is standing in the doorway, files scattered around him.
"Fuck," Harry gasps, running a hand down to straighten his robes in an attempt to cover the physical signs of his activities. He clears his throat and turns to the young Auror. "Yes, Conley?"
"Err, sorry, I… Here are the reports for the, err, Malfoy case?"
Draco lets out a little snort, and Conley is diligently trying to look Harry in the eye. The kid has a backbone, he'll give him that.
"Yes, thank you," Harry says, his voice even and professional. If Conley can ignore the situation, so can Harry. "I'll look at them later."
Conley turns and hurries for the door, and Harry suddenly remembers what it felt like to be so young and eager to please.
"Conley? Good job on your first case."
The kid blushes and nods, closing the door behind him. Draco bursts out laughing.
"You're a menace," Harry growls, turning back to Draco. "You gave me shit about my locking spells, and you just left the door completely accessible."
Draco shrugs, pointing his nose into the air in the way that used to irritate the shit out of Harry when he was a kid but is now just silly and ridiculously attractive. "I was only coming here to show you my thanks. How was I to know you'd practically jump me?"
Harry steps close to Draco again and pulls his head down so he can use his own nose to nudge the one he'd just been admiring. "I need to go home and sleep. But have dinner with me tonight?"
Draco nudges back and the moment feels more intimate than anything else they'd been doing when they were interrupted. "I can't leave Scorp yet. He's sleeping right now, and Pansy and Theo are with him, but I can't leave him tonight."
Harry nods slightly, understanding but feeling deflated. He wouldn't be able to leave one of his kids like that, either.
"Come to mine," Draco says instead. "Bring the kids. Or at least Al. Scorp wants to see him and to thank you."
"He doesn't have to—"
"Harry," Draco interrupts. "Let my son be the good person he's learning to be, okay?"
Harry smiles and something in his chest gives an unexpected flutter. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."
Draco steps back and picks up Harry's cloak, draping it gently around Harry's shoulders. "You're dead on your feet. Come on, Head Auror Scarhead. I'm going to take you home and tuck you in so you don't fall over on the way."
Harry grins. "I thought Conley was going to have a cardiac arrest when you called me that in that first interview."
Draco steps to Harry's private Floo in the corner of his office and hands him the Floo Powder. "Oh? Was it like the one he almost had just now when he saw you with your tongue down my throat?"
"Your throat? I seem to remember your tongue down my throat and your hand on my arse," Harry retorts, settling comfortably into the rhythm of their bickering.
Merlin, it's good.
Later that night, he sits around the table with Draco and their combined four children, laughter and conversation washing over him like waves on a beach, and he realises suddenly that it really has all worked out the way it was supposed to.
They'd taken different paths than Harry had once imagined, but here they were all the same, Harry and Draco… And they were better for it. More complete. Happier.
And that, he realises, makes all the difference.
Finis