Chapter Five:

Fifth Avenue, New York City, 2007

Weston took in a breath. She had followed Malfoy for eight blocks before he had disappeared into the nondescript building. Before he had said his name as a password in that drawling voice she had once thought was charmingly upper class. Now she was waiting, following him, hoping for anything that would confirm what she was thinking. He was going to pay, one way or the other.

Weston made her way into the building, in Muggle clothing, she looked like anyone else walking into a business, dressed in a pinstripe suit. Dumbledore had arraigned for her to have the office next door to the meeting hall. The hall where the Death Eaters were holding a meeting.

Once inside the small room she opened her suitcase and pulled out her wand and the glass horn. "Audio," she whispered, tapping the horn and placing it against the wall.

Opening a scroll, Weston wound it along the horn and waited. And waited. It was an hour and a half before the meeting ended. After it was over Weston put the scrolls into their small box and back into the suitcase. She walked out into the street, feeling uncomfortable in the Muggle high heels she was wearing. She took a bus back to her hotel room; she made sure not to look conspicuous.

Finally, in her hotel room she opened the tiny scroll and listened to the recordings. Halfway through her hands were clenched and the knuckles white. I got you, you bastard, she thought to herself. You'll pay.

She listened on, trying to find out why. Why was Malfoy doing this? What was it, some vendetta, some old hatred for the aurors? What was it? Then, like a proverbial bolt of lighting, it hit Weston so hard she nearly fell over.

Weston realized he was doing out of love. Twisted, malicious love. Love turned inward so that it became hate.

Hogwarts, 1999

Dumbledore looked at the shocked young faces about him. "You realize, children," he said worriedly. "That there is no time to waste. If you are all agreed, I will send you off now."

"Now?" Ron repeated his face redder. "Right now?"

"Are you deaf or stupid, Weasel?" Draco asked, bored. "Now. We are leaving now." He drew the words out between his lips as if he was talking to a very small child.

"You damn git," Ron said, turning to face Draco with fists raised.

"Good," Draco said, faking a yawn. "Now that you're not nervous anymore, can we please leave?"

Harry covered a laugh with a cough. Draco might be a spoiled git, but he was damned funny.

"You guys," Hermione said, looking wearily at Professor Dumbledore. "I think we should be prepared to handle whatever we should encounter in the future. Professor Dumbledore, is there anything else we should know?"

"No, Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore said, "I think you are already prepared well enough. I promise all of you that I am not sending into any danger. In fact, I am sending you to a very nice London home." Professor Dumbledore smiled. "Nothing bad will happen to any of you if you are careful."

"Well, then," Harry said tiredly. "Let's go, er--Professor--."

Professor Dumbledore inclined his head. "Hold each other's hands, now."

All four gave Professor Dumbledore a look that said: do we have to?

"It's imperative that you do. Or else you all may be separated. The force of the spell is very strong and it is also very complicated. Now, form a circle over here."

The floor was separated into a circle that no one had ever seen in before. The floor seemed as if it was illuminated from underneath and above, forming circles of light that surrounded the group as they stood in its center. Dumbledore was speaking, but they could no longer hear his words, they became fainter and fainter as the lights spread and form a tubular, spinning vortex of brightness and color. It was so bright that they were forced to close their eyes and look away, it was becoming so powerful that they almost wanted to break the chain to shield their faces from its heat.

Then, there was nothing. Darkness. Then light. And a singular noise. The sound of an alarm clock, going off in the distance.

Notting Hill, End of December, 2007

Harry Potter, in his twenties, turned over in bed and grumbled, pulling the sheet over his head. Yet the alarm clock insisted on buzzing again, and again.

"Harry," Draco mumbled, moving to his side of the bed. "Turn the fucking alarm clock off."

Draco was rewarded with a groan. "I don't know why the thing's going off," Harry said irritably, slamming it onto the ground with zest. "I didn't set it for vacation. Merlin, those Muggle inventions are useless."

"What would Weasley's father say if he heard you now?" Draco laughed, moving to Harry's side of the bed and wrapping his arms about his back. His teeth slowly, carefully, grazed the skin of Harry's back, causing an immediate reaction. Harry tensed, waited, as Draco moved closer, and he felt the blond's head rest against his shoulder.

"He'd say something like at least they try," Harry mimicked Mr. Weasley's voice very well. "Draco . . ."

Draco had turned him over and was hovering above him. In the morning light he looked amazing. He hadn't bothered to do anything to his hair yet, so it stood up in little flaxen tufts about the corner of his head. His eyes were a cloudy gray, still a little bit dreamy from sleep. Draco brushed Harry's hair away from his forehead and kissed him there with a consuming tenderness. With that little touch, Harry felt his body tense more. Draco was hardly ever gentle, and he craved it.

"You look like sunlight," Harry said absentmindedly after they shared an early morning kiss.

"And you," Draco said, his hands moving slowly across the exterior edge of Harry's torso. "Feel absolutely divine." His mouth was at Harry's neck, teasing, tasting. It was maddening, the sharpness of his teeth, the careless ease with which he reached down between Harry's leg and stroked his inner thigh. Shift as he might, Draco wouldn't touch his need, and it was making his head spin.

"Draco," Harry mumbled, feeling weak.

"Hmm?" He responded, moving his head away from Harry neck.

Harry took in a sharp breath. "Are you going to tease me all morning?"

Draco's eyes had awoken, and they were mischievous. Harry bit down the urge to laugh, he knew Draco was in a good mood, and when he was, there wouldn't be any pretense, no joking about, it would be frantic, amazing lovemaking.

"Turn over Potter," Draco said lazily. "So I can see what I'm working with here."

"I don't want to be--" But his words were cut off, and so was the intention behind them. Rolling his eyes he turned over.

Draco traced a line from Harry's neck, slowly carefully down to his legs, tickling the soles of his feet. Then he began again, from his feet, stopping when he reached the crevice of his behind. Slowly, maddeningly, Draco traced the contours of his bottom, until Harry began to moan softly. He was throbbing as well, urging, but Draco had always been in more control. He could wait a little longer, Draco mused. I'm going to have a bit of fun with him first.

Spreading him apart, Draco took a moment and breathed out a long breath of hot air over Harry's entry. Slowly, sweetly, he kissed his lower back, open-mouthed, his tongue drawing hazy lines before he went forward and held his waist tightly. "Draco!" Harry gasped softly, but it broken down into incoherencies as Draco prodded him with his tongue, he was as maddeningly devious as ever. When Draco moved his mouth away, Harry was pliant, ready to do anything to relieve the manic tension building between them.

Draco moved in slowly, taking his time, enjoying the feeling of having Harry Potter all around him at once, enveloping him. It was too easy to take him like this; Draco mused, and change him from the serious, determined auror, to a crying, moaning man who needed him. And yet they both knew Draco was the only one who could do this, no matter what. Make him feel both loved and desired and desiring.

Just when Draco had settled himself, he moved out again and Harry cried out his name. Then, pleased, Draco moved right past tenderness and ease and thrusted, quickly to find his spot and the sharpened scream Harry gave was followed almost instantaneously with his orgasm's flow. Draco moved again, sharply, faster now, finding his niche, warm and tight, within the other man's body. There it was, Draco thought, the feeling of everything and nothing all at once, the filling of a void.

"Harry," Draco groaned out, as he released, a steady stream of warmth entered Harry's body and he moaned softly again Draco's name. For a moment Draco breathed out, a long hot breath on the back of Harry's neck, before he moved off him and settled on his side.

They said nothing for long moments, simply settling in each others arms, waiting for the strength to move and do something, though they hardly knew what could compare favorably to the mysterious bliss of being wrapped in each other, tired, sticky and sated. Harry let out a long sigh, followed by a kiss on Draco's closed mouth.

"Look at your neck, Potter, it's all marked up," Draco said, satisfied, turning Harry's neck to the side. "Horrid looking."

"Proud of your handiwork, Malfoy?" Harry asked, smiling a wide grin. "What are we going to do with you?"

"Nothing," Draco smirked. "I'm incorrigible. Kiss me."

Harry agreed to the condition and his mouth met Draco's easily, knowing the familiar contours, the softness of his tongue, the way he would incline his head. The silly, intimate little things he always noticed about his lover, the way his eyes closed slowly in a kiss, the way he might let out a little sigh in the midst of one, and Harry could feel the reverberations on his own throat.

"I love you, Draco." Harry said contentedly. "I think I'm madly in love with you."

"Yes," Draco said, stroking the head on his chest. "I love you, too." He rushed through it, still uncomfortable with the words.

"I'm hungry," Draco yawned, shifting in the bed.

"You're always hungry," Harry frowned, finding his boxers and throwing Draco his. "I'm surprised you're not fat."

"You keep the weight off, lover," Draco winked dramatically, a little wag in his step as he walked to the kitchen. "All that extra exercise."

Harry sat down at the stool on the kitchen table. "What've we got?" He asked, knowing the answer would be nothing.

"Muffins!" Draco sang out, finding a Tupperware in the back of the fridge. "Oh, Merlin bless Hermoine, she brought them by Thursday. Here, Potter, put them in the heater while I conjure the cappuccinos."

Draco started up the machine when he noticed the strange look in Harry's face. Tense. He turned it off. "What is it, Potter?"

"Someone's in here, Malfoy," Harry said slowly. "I know it."

Draco winced. Every since the fall of Voldemort, Harry had been a little . . . paranoid. He had the house thoroughly swept for wizarding bugs, twice a month, and though nothing was ever found, Harry was convinced they were still in some sort of danger. The nightmares, too, only added to Draco's worry.

Harry took out the muffins and put them on a plate, then sat down, dropping his head onto the table. "You think I'm going mad, don't you? Malfoy, don't answer that," he said smiling, though there was pain in his eyes.

Draco knelt down next to him. "I don't think you're going mad, Harry," he said, as soothingly as possible. "I don't get engaged to men who are mad, I don't live with men who are mad, and I definitely do not fuck madmen. Listen to me," he said, moving Harry's hands. "You've been under a lot of stress. We've both been under a shitload of stress. That's all it is."

"I just feel like something terrible's going to happen, is all. I know how mad I must sound, but that's how I feel, Malfoy." Harry shook his head and gave a half-smile. "Maybe I can't accept the good after all that bad."

"Maybe," Draco conceded. "Or maybe you're just wild with hunger and hallucinating. Here," he put a muffin in Harry's hand. "Eat a blueberry one."

"Malfoy," Harry said between bites, "How do you put up with me?"

"Ah, babe," he smirked. "It's a labor of love." Draco patted Harry's hand. "Come on now, we have to get ready. Fred's having us meet that Muggle girl who's supposedly stolen his heart."

"I don't know how a Muggle or a girl could steal anyone's heart," Harry sniffed, and then laughed. "That was positively Draconian of me." Harry stood up and ruffled his hair. "You're rubbing off on me."

Draco jumped up from behind and onto Harry's back. "That's good," he laughed, "Since I'm going to marry you," he nuzzled Harry's neck until the other man burst out laughing as well.

"I'm not going to turn into your reflection, Malfoy, so give up. Damn! Draco, stop biting my neck, it's already got enough marks on it." Draco climbed off him and pushed him against the wall. He was pinioned easily between the wall and the man and he couldn't help but nibble along Draco's pronounced jaw.

"Silly, beautiful Harry Potter," he responded, kissing his mouth. It was a sweet, insinuating little kiss and Harry melted into it. "Your breath tastes like muffins," Draco said, pecking his cheek and then started walking quickly towards the hall. "I call shower first."

"Bastard." Harry said, sitting down at the kitchen table and taking out the News.

It was another hour before Draco and Harry left the apartment. Draco was horrifically slow to get dressed; he tried half a dozen things before he decided on tight black trousers, a white turtleneck sweater and a dusty gray peacoat. Harry bit down the urge to protest since he looked so damned good. Draco of course, did not mention the fact that Harry was once again wearing what he called his uniform: a button down long sleeved shirt and a pair of faded jeans with a boring jacket over it. Perhaps he only kept his mouth shut because Draco admired the way the green shirt brought out the color in his eyes.

"We ready for Muggle transportation?" Draco groaned. "I hate taking those bloody smelly cars anywhere. Why couldn't Fred have fallen for a nice witch at the Ministry?"

"Stop whining," Harry said, taking Draco's hand. "You look peevish when you whine."

"I do not ever look peevish," he responded, and the door closed to the house.

From their corner in the apartment, hidden behind a large screen, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco came out and looked about the apartment with white faces.