Chapter 14: Mine and Yours

Whether it was the sneer that pulled on Draco's upper lip or Harry seated there, understanding toward his circumstances seemed to bleed in on Yaxley. He made to scramble, but didn't get any further than onto all fours before Harry was upright with a steady wand on him.

"No," he firmly told Yaxley. "It's over."

Yaxley's gaze slid back to Draco. Something in it flickered. "Oh."

"Get up," Harry said. "You either walk, or I can levitate you to the Auror office. Whichever way you think is more dignified."

Silently, Yaxley chose to walk. He bore a long face and sagging shoulders as Draco too stood on suddenly-shaky legs.

Draco was accustomed to being mistaken as his father. However, Yaxley seemed to have expected him. There was no surprise in his tone, and it had jarred Yaxley to realize it was Draco in the room. Actually Draco.

Harry prodded Yaxley out into the corridor. The three of them passed through the rest of the Department of Mysteries. Harry stood between Draco and Yaxley in the lift they took for Level Two.

Draco's breath had quickened. "It was him in Nice, wasn't it?"

Yaxley looked past Harry at him.

"My father." Draco elaborated, struggling to keep his voice steady. "He's been impersonating me."

Yaxley turned his head away, which was good enough for Draco. He opened his mouth again, but halted on what he wanted to say when Harry took his hand.

He squeezed it. "One thing at a time."

Just like Draco could look back into the past and realize that, of course, Yaxley would return to himself as he filled the gap he'd left in their home universe, Draco should have known that his father was the one spotted in Nice. Some tiny little part of him had held out hope he wouldn't disappoint Draco any further than he already had.

The lift came to a stop at Level Two. Yaxley took lead in front of Harry's wand, while Draco followed behind for the Auror office. A handful of Aurors were present. On a quiet wave of realization passing through, they all stopped what they were doing.

John Dawlish stood up among them. His gaze lingered briefly on Yaxley before landing on Draco. "Need any help, Potter?"

"Is Robards around?" Harry asked.

"He's gone home for the night."

"Would you send him a Patronus? I need to update him on something. He'll know what it's about if you mention me."

Dawlish lifted his jaw at Draco. "What about Malfoy here?"

Harry went stiff, his voice stern when he spoke again. "He's helping me."

"Where's Weasley?"

"Robards, if you would." Harry looked back at Draco. "Come on."

They passed through the main floor into a room with holding cells. While Harry led Yaxley toward one, Draco folded his arms and shrunk in on himself. He really didn't want to be here right now. Were it not for his want to remain close to Harry, Draco would have made up some excuse about needing to run home or to his office. He considered doing so anyway when Harry returned to where he stood.

His lips were pressed as he assessed Draco. "All right?"

Draco shook his head. He didn't seem capable of meeting Harry's gaze.

"I'm sorry. I'd hoped it wasn't him."

"Me too." Draco cleared his throat in discomfort when a heaviness he wasn't keen to feel manifested in his eyes. "I don't want to talk about it here."

"Sure," Harry agreed with a brief hand on Draco's hip. "Come sit. I have some paperwork to do."

Draco followed Harry over to a table. He ended up in a forward slouch, his fist balled up against his cheek as he stared off toward Yaxley's cell. The quill Harry used scratched in a grating manner against the form he worked on.

White-hot anger filled Draco. He belonged to a universe where his father wasn't only capable of abandoning him, but stealing his identity. His father had broken into his home and lived as him for at least the last month. His father had nearly gotten him arrested. Draco could have lost everything. He could have been sitting in Azkaban right now while Father and the rest of the Death Eaters at large scattered—running free again.

Draco's chair scraped against the floor as he pushed it away from the table. Harry tensed a little at the suddenness of it, although didn't say anything against Draco sweeping across the floor to Yaxley's cell.

Inside, Yaxley slouched on a bench. His arms were folded, and his head rested back against the wall. He remained impassive as Draco sneered at him.

"Why is my father impersonating me?" Draco demanded. "Did he even care what might happen to me if he was found out?"

Yaxley blinked.

"Does he think that little of me?" Draco's knuckles whitened when he clutched one of the bars. "Am I actually nothing to him?"

Yaxley's gaze darted briefly over toward where Harry sat. "He cares."

"I was nearly arrested, so you might forgive me for doubting that."

It hadn't been Father's presence in Nice that had drawn Auror attention, though. It was a tip-off about Yaxley that led them to Southern France. Draco only wished that changed the truth about what his father had done.

"So what about you, then?" Draco sneered anew. "Why were you there? You're the one that ruined what was apparently a good thing for my father. Was it just convenient that I happened to have an empty house somewhere?"

Yaxley shrugged.

"You could have been more careful, you know," Draco said, thinking fast. "Someone spotted you, and that's why the Aurors showed up. Why was my father in some sort of disguise, but you weren't? That's pretty sloppy after thirteen years of hiding practice."

Turning his head away, Yaxley grunted.

"Why was there a Vanishing Cabinet at my house?" Draco asked. "Did neither of you even realize how broken it was?"

"Broken?" Yaxley repeated in a bored tone.

"Yes, broken. Do you have any clue what happened to you when you jumped into it? You aren't curious why you don't remember anything between Nice and London?"

One of Yaxley's eyes squinted.

"You didn't happen to let Uncle Rodolphus touch it, did you?" Draco tried. "Or did it belong to him?"

Yaxley furrowed his brow.

"Unless he had the other half of the pair," Draco mused aloud. "Well, I'm so absolutely sorry to inform you that he left you high and dry."

"Oh?" Amusement sounded in Yaxley's voice.

"You're here, aren't you?" Draco tried to incite him with a smug smirk. "My father slipped off. You're the only one to be brought in, Yaxley. I looked at the Cabinet, you know. Its connection was beyond butchered. You're honestly lucky to even be here. That could've been the end of you."

Yaxley scoffed. "I know what you're trying to do. The others wouldn't have turned on me. We're all we have."

Draco grew cross again. "So you do think my father cared more about you than me."

"No."

"Would you please elaborate, because I am so curious how exactly logic functions in that draughty head of yours."

"It upset Lucius rather greatly to hear that Narcissa remarried—and to a Muggle, no less." Yaxley shuddered, his face pinching. "Lucius tracked you to Nice because he wanted to see you. You weren't around, but it couldn't be long until you'd come by, could it? But the weeks turned into months. However—if you supposedly lived in Nice, then it wasn't exactly strange to see you there. Was it?"

"How's he doing it, then?" Draco asked. "How does he look like me?"

Yaxley gave Draco a tight, insincere smile.

"He wasn't privy to share with you?" Draco baited him. "You know, so you wouldn't be spotted?"

"I went this long without being noticed."

"So you were careless."

"I had the Cabinet."

"Which was cut off."

"If you say so."

Yaxley's face straightened out before he averted his gaze again. Draco peered back over his shoulder. He stepped aside as Robards approached the cell. Robards' eyes were bright, even though his hair stood up in the back as if he'd whisked here in a hurry. A slow grin emerged as he eyed up Yaxley.

"Corban!" he greeted him like an old friend. "Been well?"

Yaxley scowled and tightened his crossed arms.

Robards clapped Draco on the shoulder. "Come away from here, Malfoy. Whatever your feelings for the man, you shouldn't be speaking with someone in holding if you're not with Magical Enforcement."

"I was listening," Harry said, still seated at the table. He'd turned in his chair.

"Aren't you due to be Obliviated?" Robards asked him, then furrowed his brow with a glance around. "Where's Weasley?"

"Draco and I aren't finished yet," Harry replied. "We know where Ron is, but opportunity came to grab Yaxley first. We'll be heading back shortly."

"Oh. I thought you had me called in because you'd sorted everything out."

"I figured Yaxley was enough worth updating you."

"He is." Robards glanced at Draco as he dropped back down into his chair. "You've made a quick job of it, I have to say. They must not have gotten very far."

Harry shrugged. "We know what we're doing now, so we should be back with Ron in no time at all."

"Did they not just pop out somewhere?" Robards asked. "Where's the other Cabinet?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, then briefly halted. "It's a bit more complicated than that."

"Well, good work either way." Robards dipped his chin at Draco. "So what's with the long face? Don't tell me you let Yaxley get to you."

When Draco said nothing, Harry responded instead. "It's Lucius who's been impersonating Draco in Nice."

"I had a feeling when your superior cleared you," Robards told him. "Sorry 'bout that, Malfoy."

"Whatever," Draco mumbled. "I shouldn't have been surprised."

"Well, I'll leave you two to it," Robards said. "Whatever time you've squared up with Weasley, Potter, just send me a Patronus and let me know. I won't care if you wake me up. That's worth knowing right away, to me."

"Cheers."

Robards left, and Harry went back to his form. Draco bounced his heel rapidly against the floor.

"Did what Yaxley have to say make you feel any better?" Harry asked.

"No." Draco felt restless, like a pacing manticore. "I really should have expected it. I don't know why I ever bothered to hope for anything else. It had to be somebody, so why not him."

"I dunno, I'd hoped for your sake he was better than this."

"He wanted to see me."

What felt like an iron hand gripped Draco's throat as that sunk in. His father missed him. He'd shown up at Draco's house expecting him to open the door when he knocked.

Draco regretted lashing out at Yaxley. He would rather have his anger back instead of the longing that clogged his chest. It didn't matter how long it had been since he saw his father, or what he'd done either now or then. Draco missed him too. He might have punched his father in the face had he opened the door, but he would have hugged him first.

The rate at which Draco's heel bounced quickened. "Well, I suppose I'm glad I don't actually live in Nice."

"Wouldn't have been able to tell him to fuck off?"

"No."

Draco's throat tightened further, and his eyes were heavy again. He took a deep breath, trying to get rid of some of it on heavy exhale. All it did was highlight the unwanted wetness creeping up on him. Draco did not want to do this.

Harry rested a hand on Draco's thigh, quill down. As much as Draco ached for comfort, this didn't feel like the time or place to seek it out. The longer Harry's work got put off, the longer Draco had to sit here and stew in his thoughts where any of the other Aurors might come through to take a peek in at Yaxley. Even worse, they might want to chew the cud with Harry. Draco didn't want anyone else to see just how much this upset him.

"Could you finish up whatever you have to do?" Draco asked. "I really want to get out of here."

"Yeah." Harry picked his quill up again. "I want to make sure you're all right too, though."

"I'll be leagues better once we can leave."

"That's fair."

Harry kept his hand on Draco, which was about the only thing rooting him to his chair. A strong urge to pace, yell, or blow something up paired strangely with a buzzing in Draco's head.

Finally, Harry put his quill down again.

"I'm all done," he said. "He's booked."

"Great." Draco leapt up.

"One more stop, unfortunately," Harry told him. "I'll make it quick."

Draco followed Harry back into the main part of the office, weaving through the cubicles. He kept his gaze down and pretended like the other Aurors weren't there. A couple tried to talk to Harry, but he tactfully brushed them off.

Harry stepped into one of the cubicles. It contained two desks of equal disorder. Harry opened the drawer of one and pulled out a vial. Framed pictures on the other desk caught Draco's eye. Weasley grinned widely in one, and had been dogpiled by a small boy and girl. In another, Weasley and Granger smiled and occasionally glanced at each other. They kept missing the other, and then laughed when they finally made eye contact.

Draco floated into the cubicle. Harry was too busy with his wand up against his temple to tell him if he ought not touch anything. Draco picked up the picture of Weasley and his children.

Harry moved in the corner of Draco's vision. He was pooling a silver thread that clung to the tip of his wand into the vial.

Draco flashed the picture toward Harry, then looked at it again. "He's a good father, then?"

"A great one," Harry said.

"What are the children's names?"

"Rose and Hugo. Rosie's six, and Hugo'll be five in summer."

Draco idly nodded. Along with a raw sort of envy, he felt slightly ill to look at the picture. The children couldn't be happier. Right here and right now, their father was technically dead. They had no idea, and Draco and Harry were the only people capable of making sure they never knew that had been so much as a temporary condition.

Harry stopped the vial when Draco looked at him again. Draco set the picture down and moved away from Weasley's desk.

"What's the memory for?" he asked.

"I don't want to forget what Yaxley said, in case I'm Obliviated before I can tell anyone about it," Harry replied. "It's a bit too much to write down in my journal without some details possibly going missed."

Draco made a noise somewhere between a grunt and hum in his throat.

Harry bent over his desk to write a note. "Nice work, if you care enough about that."

"Oh, I care," Draco muttered in a baleful tone. "My father will pay for this. They'll all pay."

Harry tied the note around the vial and put it in the drawer. "All right, now I'm ready to go."

Considering some of Harry's coworkers were around, it surprised Draco that Harry slipped their fingers together on their way to the exit. He wouldn't have thought Harry would care to field questions about it post-Obliviation, but maybe being reminded of it down the line was partially the point.

It also took the edge off Draco's fury, so there was that. He was still agitated. Draco breathed like they had run to the lifts while they waited for one. He ran his free hand down his face and took a deep breath.

"I really didn't think this would bother me so much," he said. "I don't even know why it does. It's not as if he hasn't done worse to me before."

"It's personal again," Harry replied. "This isn't about him just surviving, or whatever else he's been up to since the Battle. He had to consciously decide to do something that could have seriously tarnished your life, reputation, and everything else." Harry paused. "It honestly makes me ill to think I could've gone right along with that, without hardly a second thought."

"Thank god I hadn't used my Spacetime Turner for a while." Draco felt slightly nauseous. "Otherwise, Theta wouldn't have been able to so easily advocate for me. Or—well, I suppose my fireplace in Nice wouldn't have had any recent Blue Floo signatures. So there's that."

"Yeah."

A lift arrived, and Harry hit the button inside for Level Nine. As the doors clattered shut, Harry brought Draco into a hug. Draco melted into it, turning his face into Harry's neck. He just had no idea what to do with himself when he was like this. A lingering kiss on the cheek helped. So too did one on the lips when Draco stood straight enough for one. He closed the gap again when Harry tried to pull away.

Draco's back ended up against the side of the lift, gently at first and then pressed as Harry gave him his weight. Fingers in Draco's hair, a soft tongue grazing his, and occasional teeth catching his bottom lip were exactly what he needed to be brought back to some sort of centre. Draco started to tremble when the lift came to a stop again. The doors opened, but Harry seemed as capable of pulling away as Draco was of nudging him off.

Draco's body flushed as Harry worked his neck instead. The way Harry braced the other side of his jaw put his thumb near Draco's mouth. A tremor passed through Harry when Draco took it between his lips, amounting to a deep groan that seemed to enter Draco's bloodstream through his jugular.

Harry turned his face down toward Draco's shoulder. His exhales passed through the fabric of his jumper, warming the skin beneath. With what seemed like extreme difficulty, Harry pulled back.

"All right." He tried to sound decisive, but failed. "We gotta get out of here."

Thankfully, the corridor outside the Department of Mysteries had been just as empty as the one up on Level Two. They rushed along to the travel room. Draco extracted his journal inside, setting into place the runes that would take them some-number of universes over and sixty-eight years to the relative past. He'd set it so that they came out in 1943 at half-nine in the morning. Their past selves would have been gone for the last hour or so, and there still remained a buffer of time before Riddle and Yaxley would fail to show up at their Potions lesson.

Draco and Harry were able to Floo directly to the cabin from the Department of Mysteries. Harry went first, and lingered there by the fireplace when Draco stepped through. He surveyed Draco in the same aching way Draco did him.

"I guess we don't have anything to do but wait," Harry said.

"No," Draco agreed, for that was how they'd planned this morning to go—so long as it all went off without a hitch. "Well, I suppose we have a lot to sort out, but. . ."

"Yeah."

Harry's gaze lingered on Draco's mouth, coming up before Draco kissed him anew. Draco took Harry's mouth deliberately, intent to further light every already-sensitized nerve. It lent toward a certain gentleness, which mirrored the way Harry ended up holding Draco's neck. His fingertips ran over short hair at the nape. Harry's thumb brushed Draco's earlobe, although stilted along with his breath when Draco popped the button on Harry's jeans.

A gap returned between their mouths, and their gazes met as Draco pulled Harry's cock free. Harry leaned in again, but Draco turned his face. The kiss landed on his cheek instead.

"Harry," he said.

"Hm?" Harry sounded distracted by the hand on him.

Draco thought how best to articulate this. "I could really stand to get out of my head for a while before we get back to work."

"Did you have something particular in mind?"

It wasn't a specific act or position Draco needed, but a mindset. At the same time, it was a lack of mindset—a lack of self. Draco's attempt to put it to words came up short. He opened his mouth a few times to try, but just couldn't.

Harry studied him, brow slightly furrowed. "What is it?"

Some cognition seemed to return—or maybe Harry's eyes widening just created the illusion of it—as Draco lowered himself to his knees. Draco kept on stroking Harry, tilting his head back along with the fingers that gently ran through his hair.

Draco wet his lips. "See. . ."

"Hm?"

"It's not that I mind being used," Draco said. "Just on my own terms."

Harry didn't seem to know what to say to that, although his lips parted as Draco kissed and licked along the bottom of his cock. The movement of Harry's chest became more pronounced with each breath. While Draco ran his tongue through the slit, polite pressure at the back of Draco's head pushed him forward. His tongue cushioned the underside, although firmed out of necessity when Draco drew back. Before he went so far as to release Harry's cock, he was pushed forward again. A primal groan sounded from above.

A drive beyond basic pride to satisfy propelled Draco. If he was going to be serviceable to someone, then it ought to be in a way that wouldn't have him trying to crawl out of his skin on the other side of it. It ought to be for someone he respected, and for who legitimately respected him.

Harry could have fooled Draco on that front, if he didn't know any better. His reserve to take lead evaporated, leaving Draco free to focus his entire being around the hard and occasionally salty cock in his mouth. It dripped with spit if Draco was pulled off for a chance to rest his jaw. His mouth went to Harry's bollocks then. Harry panting himself hoarse set the pace Draco went at.

The fingers wound in Draco's hair would have counted toward pain in any other situation. They tightened and pulled Draco back far enough for Harry to guide his cock back between his lips. Harry's hand formed a fist at the back of his head as he fucked Draco's mouth in earnest. It went beyond that as the tip of Draco's nose ended up against Harry's pelvis.

"Fuck. Fuck," Harry frantically whispered. He pulled Draco off him, then tilted his face upward. Draco extended his tongue as Harry stroked himself. The first few spurts of cum hit the roof of Draco's mouth. They settled into a dribble, and then Draco made a slow pull over the head to collect any that had gone missed. His throat hurt to swallow.

Draco rested his cheek against Harry's hip. His eyelids fluttered shut as the vice-like grip on his head turned instead into an absentminded pet.

"Fuck," Harry said again.

"Mm," was all Draco could manage. He'd fallen into a state of deep calm.

"I don't think I can stand much longer." Harry's voice had a croak to it. "Need help up?"

Draco nuzzled his nose into the crook where Harry's hip turned to thigh.

"Draco."

He looked up. Harry's brow was furrowed. Draco had no idea why he might look concerned.

"Give me your hands," Harry said.

They seemed to weigh more than usual, although Draco himself felt equivalent to air when Harry eased him upright. He led Draco to the back of the cabin. Draco moved as necessary to be undressed, and was pleased not to be alone in the bed for very long before an equally-naked Harry joined him under the covers. Skin contact held the anchor on Draco. An orgasm wasn't necessary to reach the blissful after-plane he'd already achieved, although Draco's toes curled all the same. Static filled his head afterward as he and Harry settled together.

The occasional press of lips against Draco's forehead and idle toying of his hair were the only things capable of penetrating the fuzz. The world started to fade back in from there. Clouds swirled in various shades of grey out the window. A couple of birds flew from one treetop to another. The fire crackled out in the cabin's main area. Draco took a deep breath and turned his face more into Harry's shoulder.

Harry kissed his temple. "There you are."

Draco made a short sound of acknowledgement.

"You seem to have calmed down."

"Something like that."

"You're certainly something else."

"Such are the perks of fucking a man with daddy issues," Draco mused.

"Hey." Some of Harry's sternness seeped into his tone.

"You can't honestly deny that I do." Draco ran his fingers through Harry's chest hair. "I just arrived late to the party, and with a certain appreciation for power at that."

Harry's arm around Draco tightened. He resettled his cheek against the top of Draco's head before they laid in silence for a while. Anxiety started to poke at Draco.

"Is it too much?" he quietly asked.

"No," Harry replied right away. "Just. . .bloody hell."

"It's a lot, though."

"Sure. But not too much."

Draco nodded.

"I didn't pull your hair too hard, did I?"

"No." The ghostly ache at the back of Draco's head was irrelevant to that.

"How's your throat?"

"A little sore, but it'll be fine."

Harry's fingers moved gently now through Draco's hair, and Draco closed his eyes again. His mind was starting to function again at a rate more befitting productivity. He wished that had been the case earlier, when Yaxley fed him long-coveted information about his father's doings and whereabouts.

"You saved that memory earlier," Draco spoke. "You were paying close attention to Yaxley, then?"

Harry nodded. "I started to see a story emerge through the lines."

"What's that?"

"Well, Yaxley said weeks turned to months about your dad being in Nice," Harry said. "So I take it he was there for less than a year. When's the last time you were there?"

"Early November, to set everything for winter."

"And when did your mum remarry? Where does she live now?"

"Four years in August, and they live in Barcelona."

Harry hummed in thought, his fingernails becoming more rhythmic on Draco's scalp. "Did your mum not announce her marriage in Britain? I'd never heard anything about it, and assumed it was very recent when you said she had a new husband. You'd think it would've been some kind of scandal—or some sort of news, anyway—that she married a Muggle. I definitely wouldn't have guessed that for her."

Draco shrugged. "One of Gabriel's children is a witch, so Mum didn't have to keep everything from him."

"Andromeda didn't even mention it."

"I don't know if she knew. She was sent a wedding invitation, but the invitation didn't specify that Gabriel was a Muggle."

"I guess that would have been strange, if it did." Harry chuckled before returning to seriousness. "As for your dad, though. If your mum marrying a Muggle—or just getting married, period—didn't hit Britain, she must have kept it relatively quiet?"

"Quiet to the wizarding world, anyway." Draco laid his arm over Harry's middle. "Gabriel's from a Muggle family sort of like ours. Well-off, and all that. The marriage was announced in Barcelona, and maybe a bit wider through Spain. Don't call me on that, though."

"I would wager then that one of the Death Eaters was either in Spain or Barcelona at some point, for your dad to have heard about it. I really hope whoever it was never tried to get close to your mum to try and confirm it for themselves, even if she never saw anything for it."

Draco shuddered. "I would know about it if Mum knew. We speak almost everyday, and she's not hard to read. There's a certain tone about her when it comes to Father, or Britain as a whole."

Harry hummed again, falling into thought for a while. "So however it happened, your dad found out about it. It upset him, and he went looking for you. I wonder what he had to do, to find your Nice address."

"What did you have to do, to find out my address was registered to me?"

"Look at the Muggle property registry at the French Ministry," Harry said. "It would have been pretty easy for your dad to slip in to do the same, if he looked like you."

"If he already looked like me, he wasn't using Polyjuice Potion. Otherwise that means he already knew where I was, because he would have had access to my hair or something."

"It can't have been charmwork, either. That would have been caught by security." Harry paused. "For the sake of this conversation, all that matters is he somehow managed. Did it sound to you like Yaxley claimed the Cabinet as his own?"

Draco nodded.

"So your dad went to Nice, and then Yaxley joined him there sometime around a month ago," Harry mused. "Hey—do you reckon shrinking the Cabinet down for transport could account for how the connection got all fucked up?"

"I doubt it." Draco narrowed his eyes. "Strong, strong magic is required to breach the edge of a universe. It might not seem like it because we've been rather cavalier about our own travels in and out, but it is."

"Sure."

"Shrinking an object shouldn't affect magical properties once returned to normal size," Draco thought aloud. "Vanishing Cabinets—at least in my experience—are stable in their connections. Even when interfered upon by something as powerful as the magic surrounding Hogwarts, they hold. They might not function properly, but that doesn't mean the connection ceases to exist."

"Right." Harry nodded.

"So what could create that sort of instability—?"

Draco cut off abruptly. A swelling sensation had started in his mind, not unlike when he'd realized that Yaxley occupied a different period of time than them in this universe. The more he followed a particular train of thought, the more Draco's heart rate picked up. His eyes widened of their own accord as they darted about.

"Fucking hell," he whispered.

"What?"

Draco propped his head up on his elbow, forcing Harry to readjust how he laid. Harry's gaze darted down to his chest when Draco drummed his fingers on it.

"We'd left it hanging that Rodolphus had something to do with the broken Cabinet, based on him having the Borgin and Burke's Cabinet here," Draco said. "If that is the case back home, I wonder if Rodolphus connected the Borgin-Hogwarts pair himself. If he had the know-how, he could have also connected Yaxley's and its pair if they hadn't been to begin with."

"I follow."

"If he could connect two," Draco continued, "he may have connected three."

Harry's eyebrows started in a slow rise.

"Or four. Or five. Each new addition would make it more difficult for the connections to hold. Add in motion, like a spider web pulled taut. . ."

"You're suggesting the Death Eaters might have been using a network of Vanishing Cabinets to keep in contact," Harry said.

Draco worked his bottom lip while he thought further. "This is based purely on conjecture—and on an admittedly overwhelming will to burn their entire little world to the ground—but it might be possible to discern those other coordinates the same way I found the address for this universe. Do you remember what the broken Cabinet exit looked like, trailing off? How it glimmered?"

"Sure."

"And do you remember I told you that the brane containing our multiverse is sticky?"

Harry nodded.

"The glimmer was the Cabinet exit stuck to the brane," Draco said. "I wonder if the other end also caught when the connection broke."

"It would only be stuck at your place in Nice if that happened after Yaxley took the Cabinet there, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah." Draco paused. "Still, do you think it's worth a shot to look?"

"To find the rest of the Cabinets, and the Death Eaters with them?" Harry brushed some hair off Draco's forehead. "Have I told you lately you're a bloody genius?"

"I don't know that you ever have." Draco sighed dramatically and flopped back down against Harry. "How tragic to my ego."

Harry laughed. "Shame, because it's very true."