Thanks to The Ultimate Undesirable, yukino76, and cassy1994 for reading and reviewing!
I don't think this will be a particularly long fic–maybe about 9 chapters. Unless I end up in a different direction than I'm planning
Draco and his Glamoured face waited outside the Hog's Head Inn for Harry to check out and return the room key. Harry thought it was best to tie up loose ends, rather than skip out. The man at the reception desk probably wouldn't recall a guest who had followed proper procedures, but he'd remember someone who never bothered to check out and kept the key. Better to be safe than sorry.
Harry had to force himself not to hurry out of the Inn and apparate away with Draco. They had to appear not to have a care in the world.
They walked casually over to the Three Broomsticks and had a leisurely breakfast while trying not to look as though they were about to be discovered. Afterward, Harry paid the server, tipping her generously, and walked out with Draco.
"Where are we going?" Draco asked.
Harry merely shrugged. "We'll figure it out when we get there."
He took Draco's arm and disapparated out of the wizarding world.
There were few places Harry knew well in London. One was the Leaky Cauldron, which, for obvious reasons they couldn't go. The other was King's Cross Station. It would be familiar to Draco as well.
When they appeared near the large double arches of the station, Harry smiled to himself. Though he had spent much of his youth fighting evil at Hogwarts, it had still been his home. A trip to King's Cross meant he was going home. His nostalgia was short-lived, as he was looking for a hotel room, not a train ride.
"Why have you brought us here?" asked Draco.
"It's familiar to both of us. I thought you'd be more comfortable in the Muggle world here rather than someplace new."
"Oh. Thank you."
Harry pointed across the street and down just a bit. "There's a hotel. We could see if they have a room. Or two," he added.
When they walked into the lobby, Harry grinned. "It's beautiful."
"It's all right," Draco mumbled.
"It's the nicest hotel I've ever been in. And there's a restaurant right here. If it's not terribly expensive, I think we should stay here," Harry told him. "Your concussion will take longer to heal unless you rest. It's been a busy day already. You can't apparate all over the place looking for the sort of hotel you're accustomed to."
"Now that you mention it, my head does ache."
Leaving Draco sitting in the lobby, Harry approached the front desk. A young woman greeted him with a warm smile.
"How may I help you sir?"
"Do you have any rooms available?"
"Yes sir, what are you looking for? Single?"
"Uh . . ." He glanced back at Draco. "Yes I suppose. Actually, would you have two singles?"
The woman typed on the computer keyboard and in a matter of moments had an answer for Harry.
"We have only one single. But we have a few doubles available."
"Okay. Um, how much does a room cost for the night?" he asked.
"Ninety pounds. Would you like two doubles?" She smiled again.
Harry mentally calculated how much money two rooms for the next few days would cost. Over five hundred pounds. And that didn't even include food. Harry didn't have near that much Muggle money in his wallet.
"Um, just one room for now." He turned and looked at Draco again. He was probably going to kill Harry.
"All right then. Name?"
"Jameson. First initial is H."
"Splendid. May I see your ID?"
Harry handed over the Muggle driver's license his Uncle Vernon made him get, so he could run errands for the family without the use of magic. He had spelled the name to read Harry Jameson rather than his real name. It had come in handy several times already when Harry didn't want to use his real name.
"And how many nights will you be staying with us Mr. Jameson?"
"I, I'm not certain. Three maybe? Can I extend my stay if I need to?"
"Let me see." She typed on the computer a bit more. "I can put you on the fourth floor. Room four-twenty-six. It's available for the next two weeks."
"Oh, well, I don't think we'll need it that long. But, um, I'll take it."
"Very good, sir. Will you be paying with credit?"
"Cash."
"Oh."
The woman seemed surprised, and Harry wondered if it was odd for Muggles to pay for hotels with cash. But he didn't have a credit card. He used Gringott's and converted his galleons to pounds when he ventured into the Muggle world.
"That will be two hundred seventy pounds." She gave her practiced smile once again.
"Do I have to pay in advance for all the nights? Can I pay for tonight, and then the rest when we check out?"
"Im sorry, sir. Without a credit card, advanced payment is expected. But I can give you a cash discount," she added perkily. A few more strokes on the keyboard and Harry's cost was down to two hundred fifty-six.
Reluctantly, he took out his money and handed it over. "Is there any other sort of discount you could give us?" "Hm, let me think," she said.
While she was thinking and typing on her computer, Harry performed a wandless Confundus Charm. He was loath to do so, but paying for the hotel would leave him without enough Muggle money to buy dinner for Draco. And the thought of dining in a restaurant as equals was very appealing to Harry.
Lo and behold, she found another "discount" that brought Harry's bill down to two hundred ten pounds.
She blinked as she handed Harry his change. He happily put it back in his pocket to save for later. After receiving two keycards and a printout of his receipt, he walked to Draco. Though the Glamour hid any signs of fatigue on Draco's face, his body language told Harry he was in need of a nap.
"We're all set," Harry said. He held his hand out.
Draco looked at it, then held up his walking stick. "I'm not an invalid."
"How is your leg?"
"Not healed yet. Ugh, it's aching. Annoyingly."
"Didn't you take a potion for pain?"
Draco shook his head. "I forgot how much healing bones hurt."
"Come on. We'll get you some Muggle medication." Harry took Draco by the elbow when the man hesitated.
Harry purchased paracetamol and a couple of Cokes in the gift shop, then led Draco to the lift. He stopped in front of room four twenty-six and slid the keycard into the slot. When the light turned green, he turned the handle and opened the door for Draco to walk through first.
Immediately to the right was a large loo in pristine, white tile with neutral accents. As Harry followed Draco in, he peeked in and saw a very large glass shower. That would be his first order of business. He hadn't bathed since Friday morning.
In the main area was a writing desk with a television sitting atop. Near that was a sort of mini wardrobe for clothing. The king-sized bed was smartly dressed in maroon stripes and looked far more comfortable than the one at the Hog's Head.
Harry glanced in the mirror as he passed. "I suppose I can remove the Glamours now that we're alone."
Draco lay down on the bed straightaway. "Aah," he sighed. He rolled to his side, curled up, then stretched out. "This will do."
Meanwhile, Harry opened a Coke and poured two paracetamol tablets into his hand.
"These will help," he said. "Take them, then take a nap."
"Mm." Draco did as he was told.
"I'll wake you for supper."
"All right. Where is your room?" Draco mumbled.
"Uh . . . I only had enough money for one room."
Draco's eyes drifted open and one eyebrow rose. "Really Potter?"
"Well, I don't carry around that much Muggle money. Normally I wouldn't even have had as much as I did. But I had just converted some galleons the day . . ." Harry trailed off. "Anyway, the bed is plenty big enough. You won't even know I'm there."
"I will if you don't stop talking." Draco closed his eyes.
Harry stood watching him a moment. Draco didn't protest nearly as much as Harry had expected. Then again, Draco was still injured.
Taking advantage of the luxurious accommodations, Harry went into the loo. It was about three times the size of his little cupboard under the stairs. And spotless. He made a mental note to get some toiletries at some point. He would have preferred to brush his teeth. At least the hotel provided shampoo and soap for the shower.
The shower was, in Harry's opinion, amazing. It easily had room for three people. And Harry felt a bit naughty knowing that he was in full view of anyone that came into the loo. There were two shower heads, and at first Harry couldn't figure out why. Certainly one was sufficient to clean.
He lathered up his hair with the house shampoo, then conditioned. After Hogwarts, Hermione had suggested he take more care with his personal hygiene routine. She too, had unruly locks and advised him to condition his to keep it from sticking up all over. He was surprised by how well that worked.
While he soaped up his well-toned body, he thought of the case. He had been too distracted earlier by Draco too really put his mind to it. He thought of all the Aurors, and which one could possibly have been the murderer. None seemed particularly violent or prejudice against the Death Eaters. Of course, all were committed to bringing them to justice. Harry came up empty regarding his suspect.
He was also certain that whomever had disturbed the wards at Malfoy Manor was an Auror. Too many items of obvious value had been left behind.
Harry's thoughts then wandered to the younger Malfoy. Draco seemed to be handling the entire situation with much more grace than Harry would have expected. Losing his father suddenly, not knowing where his mother was, and having to put his trust in Harry must have been more of a strain than Draco was letting on.
The man had definitely changed. In many ways.
Harry indulged himself in the memory of undressing Draco. His intentions that night had been purely to assess the damage. But if he was being honest with himself, Harry had to admit he admired the lithe, lean limbs and expanse of alabaster skin he had seen. He closed his eyes and pictured it–running his hands down Draco's bare chest as he performed the diagnostic spell.
Harry's cock twitched.
He stood in the shower, covered in bubbly lather, with a growing hard on. He began to stroke himself gently.
His eyes flew open as he thought he heard a noise, but he was alone in the loo. Hearing it again, he decided it was someone in the hallway.
He looked to the door again. There was something terribly exciting about the prospect of getting caught wanking in full view. Looking at the shower heads, Harry realized the bottom one came off the holder. He used it to rinse off his body, and when the spray hit his cock, he let out a groan.
Biting his lip, he held the shower head to get the pressure just where he wanted it. The pulsing water all up and down his cock made him harder. If he held it there long enough, he might get off. He closed his eyes again and leaned against the back of the shower. He thought of Draco in his green silk pants. But instead of being injured and unconscious on the bed, the Draco in his mind was sucking him off.
It had been far too long since he had a lover, Harry decided, if he was imagining his childhood rival for sexual pleasure. Not just his childhood rival, but someone under his protection as an Auror. But it was too late to worry about the immoral implications. Harry was about to blow.
Though the water felt a delicious tease, Harry needed a firm grip to push him over the edge. He pumped quick and hard , imaging Draco was wanking himself as he sucked Harry, all the while gazing up at him with those piercing grey eyes.
Harry had to consciously keep from crying out when he came. His legs wobbled a moment. Then he gasped and moaned quietly. He stood unmoving for several minutes, until his body relaxed fully.
He lathered up his nether regions once more before leaving the shower. The last thing he wanted was to smell of spunk. He Scourgified the clothing Draco had given him and put them back on. Not having a comb, he smoothed his hair as best he could, then went to check on Draco.
He found Draco still asleep and snoring lightly. With nothing better to do, Harry lay down on the other side of the bed and soon drifted off himself.
hdhdhd
When Harry awoke, the bedside clock read six forty-one. He hadn't intended to nap so long. Draco was no longer beside him, but Harry could hear movement in the loo. He flushed thinking of his own experience in the loo. Briefly, he wondered if Draco was having a similar experience.
Just then, the man in question emerged.
"You're awake." Draco tucked his shirt into his trousers. "I thought I was the one who needed rest."
"I haven't been sleeping well. This bed is surprisingly comfortable."
"I suppose," Draco grumpily agreed.
Harry chuckled. "It's okay to admit that some Muggle things are very good. Sometimes even better than things we have in the magical world."
Draco scoffed. "Let's not get carried away."
A rumbling came from Draco's stomach. "Are you hungry?" Harry asked.
"Uh . . ."
"We're in the Muggle world. You're going to have to eat Muggle food or you'll starve."
"How do you know that's what I was thinking?" Draco asked.
"Because I know you."
"Apparently. Better than I thought."
Harry scooted off the bed and tried to smooth out his clothes. "Let's go have supper. There's a restaurant downstairs in the lobby. We won't even have to go outside."
Draco sighed heavily as though it was a great burden and he was doing Harry a favor. But Harry secretly suspected that Draco was equally eager to go and check it out.
"Oh, wait." Harry got out his wand and performed the Glamour spell on each of them.
Draco frowned as he gazed at his reflection. "You made me hideous."
Laughing, Harry said, "You're not hideous. You're just not as hand–" He stopped himself short before saying more than he meant. "Oh, get over yourself."
"Well, at least you've made yourself just as plain."
"The point of the Glamour is not only to disguise ourselves, but to make us unremarkable. We don't want anyone to remember us after we've left."
"But you could have made me a bit attractive." Draco pouted.
In truth, Harry thought the Glamour Draco wore was perfectly acceptable. Harry suspected it was the red tint to his hair and freckles which Draco protested. Too similar to the Weasleys.
Harry gave himself dirty blond hair, dark brown eyes and a bit of a pug nose. Someone looking for Harry and Draco would ever suspect the pair of them.
"Can you at least make it so we can see our true selves?"
Rolling his eyes, Harry adjusted the spell so they could see themselves and each other as they truly were. That way, he didn't have to keep removing and re-spelling at Draco's whim.
"Better?" Harry asked.
"Quite."
Exiting the lift, Harry was just as impressed with the hotel lobby as he had been the first time. They made their way across toward the restaurant area. Being near seven o-clock on a Sunday evening, the place wasn't crowded.
"Table for two?" An older gentleman led them to a table near the bar.
"Could we have something a bit more private?" Harry requested. Then thinking it might have been an odd request to Draco, Harry added, "We have business to discuss."
The man sat them in a dimly lit corner booth away from the few guests that were there.
"Your server will be out shortly."
"We have business to discuss?" Draco raised an eyebrow.
"I, well, we do. Sort of. We have to figure out who is going after Death Eaters."
"We? You're the Auror. And frankly, I'm surprised the Ministry is actually distressed about it. Whoever is doing this is doing the Ministry a favor."
Harry leaned forward, frowning. "Draco, whoever did this killed your father. I'm surprised you're not more distressed about it."
For a moment, Harry thought he had gone too far. Draco blinked quickly and looked away. The last thing Harry intended was for Draco to cry in public.
"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
Draco shook his head. "I don't know why I keep forgetting that he's gone. Is that normal?"
Shrugging, Harry replied, "I don't know. I lost people in the war, but the circumstances were different. We all knew we were risking our lives. I think if I lost someone very close to me now, I wouldn't want to face it, though."
Draco straightened up and sniffed. "But I must. And you're right. My father was a bastard in many ways. And he should have suffered the consequences of his alliance with the Dark Lord. But he didn't deserve to die the way he did. He was making an effort to make amends. In his own, self-serving way."
Harry nodded. It was clear that Draco had conflicting feelings toward his father. Harry would recommend Draco see a counselor when all this was resolved. But for the time being, Harry would be the shoulder he could lean on.
Reluctantly, Draco admitted the meal was as good as any he'd had at a wizarding restaurant, which pleased Harry to no end. But Draco was getting fatigued again, so they skipped pudding and went back up to the room.
Draco mindlessly stripped down to his pants and slipped into bed. Harry wasn't tired due to his earlier nap and had nothing to do but think. He tried watching the telly with the sound off, but it was boring and he wasn't into Muggle television the way he was in his youth. Eventually, he turned it off and tried to sleep.
hdhdhd
"Father!" Draco bolted up, gasping for breath.
In a second, Harry was awake, wand out.
"Draco, what's wrong?"
For a while, Draco seemed disoriented, glancing around the strange room. "What?"
"Did you have a nightmare?"
When Draco seemed to realize where he was, he nodded his head. "I was back at Ackerley Town Hall."
"It's all right. You're safe now."
"But my father is really dead. It wasn't just a nightmare." Draco brought his hands to his face and sobbed, the way he did when Harry first told him.
"I'm sorry." Harry's heart ached for him. If it had been Ron or Hermione, Harry would have taken them in his arms and comforted them. If it were him, he would have wanted the comfort of a friendly hug.
Taking a chance that Draco was like any other person grieving a great loss, Harry put his arm around Draco's shoulder. Draco turned and leaned in, weeping harder. He clutched at Harry's sides for a time, then stopped suddenly, pulling back.
"Sorry," he mumbled, wiping forcefully at his face. "Malfoys don't cry."
"Of course they do," Harry said. He removed his arm and scooted away. "It's all right. I know what it's like to lose a father. Not quite in the same way. But I've cried about it too."
Draco rubbed his head and groaned.
"Do you have another headache? I'll get the paracetamol."
Draco didn't look him in the eye when Harry gave him the pills. He muttered a quick thanks and turned away from him to sleep.
Harry wondered if he'd said or done something wrong. He was only trying to help. Why was Draco Malfoy so damned difficult to read?