Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, and I hold no legal claim over Harry Potter or any associated characters. This piece of fan fiction is merely for my own amusement, and possibly others. No profit is being made, and no copyright fringe is intended.
Rating: M
Author's Note: Gah! Finally! This chapter was the source of quite a bit of anguish and writer's block frustration for me. But I'm relatively pleased with how it turned out in the end – I hope you are too!
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Chapter 4 – Thursday
Flashback.July 26, 2005. Four months since the first "incident" occurred.
Four different heads bent over four different books in a dank, musty library that smelled faintly of mothballs. They were still in the process of cleaning Grimmauld Palace, but the old house was putting up quite a fight. Harry didn't really care all that much, to be perfectly honest. It would never be a home to him, no matter what Sirius' will said. But it had been reinstated as the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, and Harry was happy to leave it as such. He still dreaded having to spend time there. Unfortunately, the occasion called for it today. With time between assignments, he, Hermione, and Ron had been going through the many books of the Black family's extensive collection of Dark Arts material. Of six Horcruxes, only two had been destroyed – Riddle's diary and the ring that Dumbledore had sacrificed his hand for. It had been over a year since their former Headmaster's death, and no further attempts to destroy the remaining Horcruxes had been possible. Harry was fairly certain that Dumbledore was right concerning the true nature of the snake Nagini, Voldemort's pet. But she would be hard to get to. The other three were Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's cup, and something of either Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's. Most likely Ravenclaw's, seeing as Harry was the proud owner of the ruby-encrusted sword that had previously belonged in Dumbledore's office. Gryffindor's only known remaining relic.
They were searching for "hot spots", as Lupin put it. There were certain locations that radiated Dark energy, and any of these may be home to one of the remaining three Horcruxes whose locations they had not yet ascertained. They cross-referenced these sites with the available knowledge of the four founders of Hogwarts, in an attempt to find specific "hiding spots" that might appeal to Voldemort. They researched diligently, writing down a site now and then that required further investigation. The most promising of theories were eventually scouted by Ministry-trained Aurors, who would report back. Nothing yet of course, but that didn't mean they were going to stop trying. Eventually, they would find something. Eventually.
Malfoy was the fourth head bent over in the library that day. They made an unusual group, but his knowledge of the Dark Arts was once again proving to be an invaluable resource. In the past hour he had added six more locations to their ever-growing list. His help was appreciated, and for that reason neither Hermione nor Ron had yet to make a snide remark. Harry wasn't planning on making one either. It might cut into his extracurricular activities…
Dear Lord, he didn't know what to think. It had happened too many times now to be a coincidence. It was bordering on an arrangement, in fact. They hadn't gone past hand jobs during the first few encounters, but that had eventually escalated to blow jobs. No actual penetration though, and as far as Harry was concerned it was going to stay that way. That would be going too far. Besides, Malfoy's tongue was more than enough to send him over the edge.
He really shouldn't be thinking along those lines if he wanted to get anything done. But now that he'd started, he couldn't seem to stop. Malfoy's tongue, running along his throat, down to his collarbone, his abdomen, lower and lower. The heat of Malfoy's mouth engulfing him, the pressure building up as he tried not to scream when-
"That's enough!" Ron exclaimed, slamming his book down on the table. Harry jumped in fright, before realizing that Ron wasn't addressing him directly. Hermione and Draco both put their books down as well, looking over at Ron's sudden outburst. "This is a complete waste of time!" Ron said, exhaling loudly in frustration.
Hermione sighed. "I know it seems like that sometimes, Ron. But at least we've been able to eliminate some of the possibilities, narrow the field a little bit."
"We're at war, Hermione! We should be out fighting, not held captive in a library drawing up lists!" Ron said with force.
"No one's holding you captive, Weasel. I won't hold it against you if you want to leave. In fact, it would please me greatly." Malfoy said snidely.
"Maybe we should just take a break." Harry suggested, but his idea went unheard. The redhead and Slytherin continued to glare at one another.
"The war's in a holding pattern right now, Ron." Hermione tried again. "I know it doesn't feel like much, but we're doing what we can by drawing up these lists."
"What I really want to know is why we're sitting here, researching these hot spots, when there's a rather obvious hot spot that we've been bluntly ignoring all along." Ron said. "And this one," He nodded towards Malfoy, "Knows exactly how to get at it."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Malfoy told him coldly.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Malfoy Manor! Come on, Malfoy. You're telling me that your shelves aren't lined with Dark antiques, any of which could be one of these three Horcruxes we're all so eager to get our hands on? That even your kitchen utensils aren't loaded with more curses than most of the accounts at Gringotts?"
Malfoy just glared at him haughtily.
"Ron," Hermione said warningly. "Now's not the time." Harry was nervously running his finger along the groove of the wooden table, trying not to get involved.
"No. I think now is exactly the time. Why won't you give up the Manor, Malfoy? Or maybe you're not as redeemed as everyone seems to think you are."
Malfoy was shooting daggers with his eyes now. But Ron was just getting started.
"You tell the Order that you're spying on the Death Eaters. But you tell the Death Eaters that you're spying on the Order. Which is it, Malfoy? Why isshould we place our trust in you when your loyalties aren't even clear?" Ron asked viciously.
Malfoy stood up suddenly. "For starters, Weasel, if you don't trust me then that's your own fault. I'm not going to attempt to prove myself to someone like you. And yes, for once you happen to be right. I am a spy. My father and I are the only two wizards that have access to the Manor. So if it were suddenly to be invaded by the Ministry, who do you think would be blamed? I'm not planning on sacrificing my position in order to lay your suspicions to rest, Weasley."
"You just couldn't bear to see it go, could you? Because that's all you have Malfoy, is your filthy blood money and everything it's bought you! Lot of good it's done, seeing as you don't have a friend in the world!" Ron shouted, standing up to stare on level with Malfoy once more.
Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "Is that what you think the Manor is to me? All it's ever been is a bunch of filthy, rotting memories that I would sooner forget than be haunted by. When Malfoy Manor is finally taken, it will be me that lights the match and burns the place to the ground. But for now, that place is inaccessible. Discussion closed." Malfoy spat the last few words, looking very much as though he wished to light a match and set Ron on fire at that moment.
The glaring match continued for awhile longer. Finally Hermione cleared the silence. "Actually, Harry, that break sounds like a good idea. It's time for lunch anyway. Why don't we head to the kitchen?"
"Brilliant. I'll lead the way." Malfoy said coldly, stalking out of the room.
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Present Day.July 6, 2005. Next Thursday.
Draco paced nervously back and forth in the little kitchen of Harry's apartment. Well, technically it was his apartment now too, he supposed. It was weird to think of it that way though. It would always be Harry's apartment to him. The evidence of Harry's presence in the flat was all over. After all, Draco would never own a mug with the words, "Jesus is coming. Stash your porn." Draco filled the mug with the butterbeer that Harry kept on tap and took a long swig. Harry claimed that Seamus had given the mug to him as a birthday present one year. Of course, Draco had reminded him, that didn't mean he needed to keep it. After all, what was the likelihood that Seamus was going to come over and demand to drink out of that particular mug? Harry just shrugged and said that he thought it was funny. Draco snorted to himself. He hadn't even understood until Harry had explained the whole "Jesus" thing. The mug was obnoxious, lewd, and completely idiotic. He thought it was funny too, but he wasn't going to admit it.
Harry was late, again, and they needed to leave any minute if they expected to be at the restaurant in time to meet his friends when Harry had said they would.
Draco was getting more antsy by the second. He couldn't really Apparate over to the Ministry and ask for Harry – they'd want a reason. Draco figured that "He's late for our date" wouldn't exactly go over well.
Draco knew that he was blowing it out of proportion. So Harry was late – big deal. But everything had seemed like a "big deal" lately, and Draco found himself throwing tantrums over the tiniest of incidents. It wasn't just him, either. Harry was certainly holding his end up as well. Something had been wrong between them for awhile now. When the war had first ended, it had seemed like everything was perfect; unbreakable. But soon after, everything had begun to catch up with them. And Draco had no idea what to do about it.
Harry still woke up in the middle of the night, wrenched from some horrible nightmare by the sounds of his own screaming. He wasn't the only one – Draco battled his own nighttime demons. And they could hold each other, but they could never quite make whatever it was between them dissolve. Because there was definitely something between them now. There was something that made Draco hold back, and something that made Harry hold back. What those somethings were, Draco didn't even know. He just wanted it gone. Wanted things the way they had been before.
But right now he just wanted to know what was keeping Harry. Maybe he had forgotten all about it and gone to Thursday night dinner without Draco? That thought was almost relieving, but the probability was slim. Harry had mentioned the dinner plans this morning on his way out the door. Had said that he'd Apparate to their apartment at quarter to six, change quickly, and they could walk over to the restaurant together. It was now 6:17. They were supposed to meet Weasley and Granger there at 6:30.
It was strange, this idea of "meeting the friends". Because of course he had met them many times before. And if first impressions were going to be brought up tonight, then he wasn't looking forward to this at all. He'd been a prat at Hogwarts, and he wasn't looking forward to being vulnerable tonight in front of two people whose vulnerability he had exploited at every possible opportunity for a good six years of his life.
Another thing he was jealous of. Harry had real friends. Draco had never had anything that resembled a real friendship, and he was painfully aware of it. Crabbe and Goyle were hunchmen, not mates. Draco had lost track of them during the war. Had no clue now whether either of them were dead or alive. If he wanted to, he supposed that he could drudge up some old records, go through list after list of all the deceased. But he was afraid of what he might find. Sometimes it was better not knowing.
Pansy, for instance. She had always been a fly, a mere nuisance that he had amused some days and swatted away on others. She'd proved to be more dangerous than he would have labeled her. He'd been forced to watch her, in the early part of the war when he was still acting as a spy, enjoying the anguished cries of whatever victims had found their way into the Death Eater's circle that week. He'd seen the blood lust on her face. She was Bellatrix all over again. In the end, she had gone out with a bang, taking two top-notch Aurors with her.
A few of his old schoolmates had scheduled hearings coming up soon. Theodore Nott – tortured and killed over a dozen young children. All had been raised in Muggle homes, had been both shocked and ecstatic upon receiving their Hogwarts letters, the verification that they were special. Magical. The "Mudbloods" were all dead within 48 hours of receiving their letters.
Blaise Zabini – Draco didn't want to think about it. There were at least twenty hospital beds in St. Mungo's that were filled because of that son of a bitch. Many of those patients would be there indefinitely. Many might still not survive.
Yes. Those were his friends. Draco laughed bitterly, and filled the mug again. He looked at it for a moment, before pouring it down the sink. That was exactly what he didn't need tonight. Going to this dinner completely pissed wasn't going to help matters any. He'd have to drown his sorrows another night.
"Draco?" He heard Harry calling from the other room. Finally!
"Well, it's about time." He said haughtily, walking into the living room. He expected to find Harry, but instead found only his head, sticking out of the fireplace looking guilty.
"I'm not going to be able to make it home first. Can we just meet there?" Harry asked.
"We're supposed to be there in less than five minutes!" Draco said indignantly.
"I've told them we'll be a little late. I'm sorry Draco, but I can't leave until we've finished going over this case."
Draco looked slightly panicked. "What if I show up and you aren't there yet? They'll assault me or something!"
"I'm sure you'll be able to hold your own." Harry teased. Draco just huffed.
"So glad to know you're concerned about my well-being." He complained.
Harry sighed. "How about this: I'll show up for 7:00, and you can show up for 7:10. That way we'll be sure that I arrive before you, and you won't have to brave them alone."
Draco tapped his foot impatiently. "We were supposed to arrive together." He said stubbornly.
Harry shook his head. "I can't. I'm sorry, but I'll see you there, okay?"
"Great. Just great." Draco said, before glaring at Harry and stalking out of the living room in a huff.
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Approximately 50 minutes later.
Harry sat in the restaurant with Hermione and Ron again, looking nervously at the clock on the wall. It was 7:15, and he was starting to worry that after everything Draco wouldn't even bother to show up. Hermione put her hand on his arm in a reassuring manner. "I'm sure she'll be here any minute." She said, smiling. Harry twitched involuntarily. Actually, this coming separately thing might not have been such a bad idea. It gave him a bit of a chance to break up the shock into little pieces, instead of dumping it all on them at once.
In some ways, he couldn't even believe he was about to do this. Just come right out and tell them? It was a scene that he had rehearsed in his head thousands of times, both before and after he and Draco had become…whatever it was they had become. He had had visions of hugs and renewed vows of friendship and loyalty, and he had also imagined looks of shock, disappointment, even revulsion or disgust. He knew the latter reaction would be unlikely, but it haunted him nonetheless. That was one thing he could be thankful of, at least. After tonight he would no longer have to imagine their reactions.
Harry coughed. "Erm, actually there's something I should probably tell you before they get here." He adjusted his glasses on his nose nervously. It was silly, he thought, to be so worried. His friends could handle this. If his friends could handle cursed scars, nighttime possession, condemning prophecies, and, the finale, a brutal and bloody murder, then they could handle this. And so, because he didn't know how else to go about it, he just plain blurted it out.
"I'm gay."
Their table was silent for approximately 2.18 seconds. In Harry's opinion, there had never been a longer 2.18 seconds. Hermione and Ron both continued to look at him. Finally the surprise registered, and Hermione exclaimed, "Oh, Harry! Why didn't you tell us sooner?"
Harry shrugged. "There was a war. I just figured that we had more important things on our minds." He looked at them both, trying to judge their reactions. "Are you guys okay with this?"
"Of course!" Hermione exclaimed. "We're your best friends, Harry! And, well…I can't say that I haven't had my suspicions from time to time." Harry was surprised at that. He'd never thought of himself as being obviously gay. Hermione tried to explain. "When you've known someone for over 10 years Harry, there are things you pick up on. You barely dated in school, and I've never seen you openly checking out a woman before. I can put two and two together. I didn't want to say anything though, in case you weren't aware of it yourself."
Ron had seemed to shake himself out of his stupor by that point. "I've known him for over 10 years too, and I never noticed anything!"
"That's because you're you, Ron." Hermione told him kindly, but in a slightly patronizing tone. Harry looked over at Ron questioningly. He still didn't know what his other friend thought about this new revelation. Ron caught his gaze and shrugged.
"Doesn't bother me, mate." He said.
Hermione nodded approvingly and turned back to Harry. "So I assume the person we're waiting for is a 'he' and not a 'she'?"
"Yeah," Harry replied, relieved. He didn't know why he had been so worried. They were his friends. They accepted him for who he was. But as many times as he had told himself that, it felt really good to have the evidence in front of him right now.
"He should be here soon." Harry checked the clock again. 7:20. "We had a bit of a tiff earlier. He was a bit angry that we weren't going to arrive together. I think he's a little anxious about it." Harry felt a bit hypocritical saying that, considering that the butterflies in his stomach were intensifying with every minute. He wasn't sure what he was more worried about: the idea that Draco wouldn't show up, or the idea that he would. He didn't get a chance to figure it out though, because at that moment the very same blonde walked into the restaurant.
"Huh, look who just came in." Hermione announced. "We should say hello, I think it would be-" She paused, and her eyes widened. "Oh." She said quietly, and she looked over at Harry with new interest, almost as though she were studying him.
Being the one facing away from the door, Ron still had no clue as to who had just walked in. He alternated between looking at Hermione and Harry, trying to figure out what had happened. "What?" Ron asked.
"Oh!" Hermione said again, looking at Harry with a curious look that Harry wasn't sure what to make of. Across the room, Draco was speaking to the Maitre d', who nodded in the direction of their table. As Draco headed over, Hermione's eyes seemed to grow wider, as though she hadn't truly believed it until that moment.
"What!" Ron asked again, clearly growing agitated. "Stop it, both of you! What is it!" Hermione started to giggle, and Harry just stared at her. It wasn't quite the reaction he was expecting, but it was better than death threats so he let it go.
"Hi. Sorry I'm late." Draco said awkwardly, coming up from behind Ron. Ron's neck snapped around, and his jaw dropped. Harry wasn't sure exactly what Ron did next, but it had appeared to be an attempt to stand up a little bit too quickly, forgetting himself in the process. A split second later, Ron was on the floor, his legs haphazardly tangled with those of his chair. Now Hermione really was giggling, holding her hand to her mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound. Harry was having a hard time not cracking up himself, as Ron accepted help from a nearby waiter while the rest of the restaurant's patrons looked on. Draco looked to be a little more in his element now, offering Ron a smug smirk once they were at the same eye level once more. "All right there, Weasley? He asked with an edge of mock concern, sitting down beside Harry. Ron managed to get himself back into his seat, still gaping at Malfoy.
"I think you both know my boyfriend, Draco?" Harry asked, the smile still playing on his face. Draco raised his eyebrow at the "B" word, but didn't say anything.
"Nice to see you again, Draco." Hermione said pleasantly, while Ron continued to stare, bug-eyed, at the couple across from him.
"Likewise." Draco returned, feeling awkward and very much on display.
"I thought maybe you weren't going to show up." Harry said quietly, as Hermione told Ron to close his mouth and stop staring.
"I know. I'm sorry." Draco replied. "I was just about to Apparate over, when an owl showed up with the reply from WISHES. They need extra help in Brightvale, so I'm going to start next week."
"You're building houses?" Ron asked in amazement, managing to find his tongue again.
"Is it safe?" Harry asked worriedly. The Death Eater threat was still very real, and Draco had been warned numerous times by both Harry and the Ministry not to put himself at risk.
"There's plenty of surveillance on the sites." Draco assured, slightly irritated. He knew that Harry was only looking out for him, but the past few weeks had felt like house arrest. Plus, he didn't want to look like a child in front of Granger and the Weasel.
"I think that's a great idea." Hermione said, shooting a warning look in Ron's direction. "Though I have to say, I can't really picture you holding a hammer, Malfoy."
"A what?" Draco asked, clearly confused.
"Of course, the actual contractors will be dealing with the more difficult jobs." She assured him. "I did some work with Habitat for Humanity with my family when we were all still in school."
"Who?" Ron asked, giving Hermione an odd look.
"I don't think that wizards build houses the same way the muggles do, Hermione." Harry guessed, looking from Draco's face to Ron's. Both appeared to be entirely bewildered.
"Oh," Hermione blushed. She didn't like to be caught not knowing something. "Right. Of course."
"Building a house is mostly about spell-casting." Draco explained. "Protection spells and the like."
Ron looked over to Harry and Hermione curiously. "How do muggles build houses?"
"Well, the basic idea involves nailing pieces of wood together to make a frame, installing roofing and house wrap." Harry told them.
"Manually?" Draco asked. Harry nodded, and Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste.
"How long does it take?" Ron asked curiously.
Harry looked to Hermione. "I don't really know. With plumbing and electric…maybe a couple months?"
"Months!" Ron asked, astounded. "How do they get anything done?"
"Completely inefficient." Draco muttered in agreement.
"Well, there you go." Hermione said, grinning at the two boys. "You both agree on something for once."
Draco and Ron looked at each other in surprise, then quickly looked away.
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Later that night.
"I'm telling you Malfoy, it's impossible. I am unbeatable." Ron claimed, as he helped Hermione into her coat.
"You've got a pretty high opinion of yourself there, Weasley." Draco told him with a smirk, but it wasn't entirely unkind.
"Rightly so. I'm the king of Wizard's Chess." Ron said boastfully. Harry just rolled his eyes.
"We'll see about that." Draco challenged. "Once you've been beaten you won't be so cocky."
"You're on." Ron replied, as the four exited the restaurant.
"I hate to break this up, but we've got to get home." Harry told them.
Hermione gave them a strange look. "Home?"
"You're living together?" Ron asked incredulously.
Harry caught himself too late, and smiled sheepishly. "That was the last secret, I promise."
"It had better be." Hermione told him sternly. "I don't think Ron or I could handle any more tonight." She looked over to Malfoy. "Not that we didn't have a wonderful time." She added quickly. Malfoy just nodded.
"Well, I don't know about everyone else, but I'm going to go home to bed." Ron said, yawning. "I promise not to be too disappointed if I wake up tomorrow and this wasn't a dream." Harry just laughed.
"Well, goodnight then." Hermione said cheerfully. She smiled at them both, and pulled Harry in for a hug. "He really has changed." She said softly into Harry's ear. He grinned, and squeezed her extra tightly. The power of friendship, he thought suddenly, should never be underestimated.
Hermione hesitated for a moment before hugging Draco as well, albeit more briefly. Harry stifled back the chuckle that formed in his throat at the look of pure astonished horror on Draco's face. Harry accepted a good back-thumping hug from Ron as well, who then faced Malfoy awkwardly. Finally, the redhead stuck out his hand grudgingly. "No hard feelings, Malfoy?"
Draco was clearly surprised, but accepted the hand that was offered to him. "No hard feelings." He agreed.
"Feel free to come next week, if you'd like." Hermione told him generously, as Ron made a small noise of protest beside her.
"We'll see. But thank you." Draco said, looking over at Weasley. Harry saw the look. He wasn't sure either of them could handle the other one on a weekly basis. But tonight had definitely been a step in the right direction. And as the two couples went their separate ways, Harry thought to himself that he hadn't been this happy in a long time.
So when he woke up to his own screams hours later, he was almost surprised.
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Flashback.August 17th, 2006. The night of Draco's abduction.
"DRACO!"
His lover had successfully Stunned two of the Death Eaters that had filled the room. They swarmed around both boys like locusts, and in the confusion Harry could barely make out the shape of the little wooden box cradled in Draco's arms. They could not lose that box.
"Get out of here NOW, Harry!" Draco screamed at him, almost tripping over one of the many bodies that littered the ground. None dead, but a few of those Death Eaters would have pretty bad headaches come tomorrow morning.
"I'm not leaving!" Harry yelled back, flinging another hex at the tall figure by the piano. He felt a retaliating hex rip through his belly, burning his insides. Strange to think this was someone's house, someone's living room transformed into a battleground. But Harry wouldn't leave it without Draco. Couldn't.
"Take it, Harry!" Draco yelled across the room. The desperation was evident in his voice, making him sound unusually vulnerable. All Order members had been trained for this. Harry was to be protected at all costs. No sacrifice was too great. It was drilled into their heads from Day 1. Harry was the key.
Harry saw the box in the air, hurtling towards him. Saw it spin, saw it fall. Right into his outstretched hands. He gripped it tightly.
They could not lose that box.
"Now go!" Draco shouted. "GO!"
"Draco-"
"Get the hell out of here, you bastard!" Draco screamed at him, effectively blocking one curse while allowing two more to hit him.
The box.
Draco.
Harry's entire body shook. He hesitated. He met Draco's eyes. He nodded. And he ran.
He ran because Draco had told him to. Because this box contained the last piece of the puzzle. Because all would be lost without it.
And he would never forgive himself.
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Thank GOODNESS that chapter is finally out! Sorry to everyone that had to put up with me saying "It's coming soon, soon, I swear!" weeks before it was finally finished. I had to keep going back, changing this, fixing up that. This was truly "The Chapter from Hell". So, if you have an opinion on it, I would be EVER so grateful to hear from you. Please leave a review. It takes you 20 seconds, but a good review can give me immeasurable pleasure! Anyway, thanks for reading!
