Parkinsons

Pansy admitted that the idiotic pureblood club had engaged in a few instances of harmless Muggle-baiting, and Draco made certain she was aware of his disapproval.

"Oh for pity's sake, Draco," she said huffily, "It's not as though we're killing anyone."

"You've drawn the attention of the Ministry, and it won't be long before Potter and his Aurors shut down your little operation. You'll be bloody lucky not to spend time in Azkaban."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "The Ministry is as money-hungry as ever. They might not let any of us 'former Death Eater spawn' join the Ministry, but they sure as hell won't thumb their noses at our money. If any of us are caught, we'll simply throw Galleons at the problem and it will go away."

"Money can't solve every problem, Pansy."

"Money can't solve your problem, Draco. It does patently well for the rest of us. Why are you taking an interest in this, all of a sudden?"

"Is Potter's wife still shagging Blaise?" Draco countered.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "It always comes back to Potter, doesn't it? Yes, she is. And before you ask, yes, she has participated in our little Muggle-baiting escapades. According to Blaise, she thinks it's a bloody lark. She's the perfect little wife at home, taking care of the brats and playing Sainted Woman to the Hero of the World. Can you imagine how fucking boring that must be?"

Draco could not imagine anything less boring than being partnered to Harry Potter, but he had never given Ginny Weasley credit for much intelligence. He had thought Pansy to be different, but she was rather a special case. She was an entity all to herself, at least when it came to relationships.

"I need to give him some information," Draco admitted.

"You've got to be joking. You want me to play spy so that you can get into Harry Potter's pants?"

"No, I want you to play spy because these little games are going to end in someone being hurt, and I don't want that someone to be you," Draco snarled.

Pansy's mouth curved in a pretty pout. "Oh, you do care about me."

"Of course I care about you. Do you really think these antics are going to endear the Ministry to the purebloods? We're already becoming an endangered species."

Pansy sniffed. "You and I did our parts. We're not dying out yet."

"Yes, there are possibly twenty purebloods at Hogwarts this year. As opposed to hundreds of half-bloods and Muggleborns."

"Listen to you! Muggleborns! You've really been infected by Potter, haven't you? Can you even say Mudblood?"

"I'm not getting into another argument with you over Potter. Are you going to help me with this, or not?"

"All right, yes. Fine, damn you. The whole Muggle-baiting bit was getting boring, anyway. You'd best make up for it by providing me with alternative amusement, Draco Malfoy."

Fuck. That meant ushering Pansy to dull function after dull function, and escorting her from expensive restaurant to expensive restaurant. Potter had bloody well better be worth the bother.

Stone

"Cousin Draco! Come quickly!" Teddy bellowed, waking Draco from a sound slumber. Draco threw himself out of bed, trying to shake the dregs of sleep. He tried to remember the last time he had been roused in the middle of the night. It had been years, at least.

Teddy had burst into his bedroom and then thundered back down the hall. Draco caught sight of the Auror's cloak as he rounded the corner and pounded down the stairs.

"What the hell is it, Teddy?" Draco yelled.

"It's Harry!" Teddy cried. "Hurry!"

Draco nearly broke his neck leaping down the stairs. He burst into his study to find Teddy kneeling over a prone Harry Potter. Draco joined him. Potter was dreadfully pale, and looked dead.

"What happened?" Draco demanded.

"We stumbled upon a group of hooded figures tormenting Muggles. Harry yelled at them to halt, of course. They turned on him immediately. Bloody hell, you should have seen him, Draco! He took on five of them alone. Eric and I tried to help, but there were so many. We were all hard-pressed." Teddy took Potter's hand and squeezed it. "He blocked most of the curses, and disarmed two, and then he was hit from behind. I didn't hear the whole spell, but Harry recognized it. He went down."

"Why didn't you take him to St. Mungos?" Draco asked harshly. Teddy's eyes were miserable, and Draco noted with surprise that the boy's hair was brown, instead of its usual silver-blond.

"They fled as soon as Harry fell. I ran to him, and he was still conscious. I don't know how he managed it. The pain had to be incredible. He said the spell was Dark Magic, very dark. Well, the first thing I thought of was you, of course. St. Mungo's will waste too much time trying to figure it out. I don't think Harry has that kind of time. We need to find the counter curse now!"

"You did the right thing," Draco said, praying it was true. "What was the spell?"

"Something like Mutus Calcula," Teddy said. "He's turning to stone, Draco. I cast Finite Incantatum, and every Slowing and Healing Charm I could think of. Eric did the same, and I think we managed to slow it down, but it's still spreading. Look at his hands. Draco picked up Potter's other hand, and was chilled by the unnatural feel of it.

Draco cast an urgent spell. "Find every book that mentions Mutus Calcula, Muto Calculus, and all similar variations!" Books began to fly from the shelves, thankfully few in number. Draco discarded all but the Darkest of the tomes. Despite the urgency, he was careful. Some of the books were dangerous merely to open without the proper wards and spells of protection.

"Take him upstairs, Teddy," Draco said quietly. "Make him comfortable. I'll find the proper spell and be right up. Where is Potter's illustrious partner?"

"He went to the Ministry to cover for our absence," Teddy said as he Levitated Potter and maneuvered him through the door. "It was not easy to convince him to let me bring Harry here. I'll need to send him a message as soon as possible."

Teddy continued out with his burden, and Draco turned his attention back to the books. He cross-referenced the spell, taking extra time just to be certain. When he thought he had the correct information, he picked up the books carefully and headed upstairs. The boy had placed Potter in the bedchamber adjoining Draco's. He wasn't quite sure what to think about that.

Teddy had mostly undressed Potter, leaving him clad only in boxers. His feet were already chalky, with marble-like veins. His hands looked similar, and Potter's breathing was labored. Draco hoped to hell the process could still be reversed.

He opened the book and cast the spell carefully, enunciating every syllable with precision. A thick fog seemed to coalesce around Potter's body, spilling from Draco's wand. The air cooled to almost unbearable levels. The original spell was very Dark indeed, and the counter-curse was molded from the same cloth. While researching it, Draco thought he felt Theodore Nott's hands all over the casting. It would be his style.

The spell was long and tiring. It was one that took energy from the caster, and Draco poured as much as possible into it, making damned sure he did his best to save the Auror, and not just because he looked good in one of Draco's beds.

At last he collapsed on the edge of the bed, trembling. He raised a shaking hand to his forehead and touched a sheen of sweat. Teddy, across from him, looked tense and no less worried. Draco wanted to ask if it worked, but he saw the same question in the boy's eyes. They both watched carefully to see if there was a noticeable change. Absolutely nothing seemed to happen.

Teddy sighed heavily. "I guess I'd better get him to St. Mungo's. I really thought this would be faster, and have a better chance of success." He got to his feet.

"Wait," Draco said. He had picked up one of Potter's hands, and the rough flesh suddenly felt warmer. Draco bent down and touched his cheek to it, hoping he had not been dreaming. He sensed Teddy grabbing Potter's other hand.

"Draco, I think you did it. Listen to his breathing—it seems to have eased. I'm sure of it."

Draco rested his head on Potter's chest, and listened to the thud of the Gryffindor's heartbeat. He had noticed it racing before, as Potter's body struggled to pump blood to tissue slowly hardening into stone. The heart rate seemed to have slowed, and Potter's skin was definitely warming.

Five minutes later, Potter's hand in Draco's was fully pliable. Teddy nearly sobbed with relief.

"Thank Merlin," Teddy breathed. "I need to let Eric know. I think I'd better tell him in person. Will Harry be all right here tonight?"

"I'm certainly not going to ravish him in this state," Draco said dryly, although he could not quite manage to give Teddy his usual smile. The young Auror grabbed his shoulder and squeezed gently.

"I'll come back for him in the morning," Teddy said. "Victoire will be beside herself with worry, by now. Thanks, cousin."

"No need to thank me, as you well know," Draco replied. "Get some rest, and for pity's sake don't wake me up at the crack of fucking dawn."

"It's nearly that already," Teddy said. He stood up and Disapparated.

Draco pulled the blankets over Potter, and then climbed into bed with him. He felt a distinct urge to wrap himself around the hero and keep him safe.

Draco awakened once, when the warm body against his stirred, stiffened, and began to move away. Draco's grip tightened.

"Don't go, Harry," he murmured. Slowly, the taut muscles beneath Draco's forearm began to relax. Draco sighed happily and pressed a kiss into the warm skin that lay against his face. "Love you," he mumbled, and drifted back to sleep.

He opened his eyes and wrinkled his brow in puzzlement. This is not my room, he thought, moving his gaze over the unfamiliar pattern on the hammered metal ceiling. A whisper of sound drew his attention and he turned his head to see Harry Potter reclining on the bed next to him. The Auror was fully clothed, damn it all, and he had one elbow propped on a pillow to hold his head up. Draco was glad to see a soft smile curving Potter's handsome face.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked stupidly.

"Watching you sleep," Potter replied.

"And?" Draco asked warily.

"It's nice. You don't insult me when you're sleeping," Potter said lightly.

Draco chuckled. "Obviously, you are not privy to my dreams. I assure you, there are insults aplenty."

"I'm in your dreams, then?" Potter asked teasingly, but Draco sensed on undercurrent of gravity that made him sit up in surprise. The movement seemed to startle the Auror and he hopped off the bed as if prodded. "You healed me, I take it?" Potter flexed his wand hand.

Draco nodded. "How do you feel?"

"Strange," Potter admitted. "My hands and feet are tingling. Like they've fallen asleep."

"Come here," Draco said imperiously, and shifted closer to Potter to sit on the edge of the bed. He held his hands out expectantly. Potter moved forward slowly and placed his hands in Draco's. He gripped the Auror's hands lightly and fought down his elated astonishment. A week ago, Draco would have said Potter would never take Draco's hands of his own volition.

Draco released one and cupped the other. He traced one finger over Potter's digits and across the palm to the wrist, keeping his eyes fixed on Harry's.

"How high is the discomfort level?" Draco asked. "On a scale of one to ten? Be honest."

Potter's face grew a delicate blush that made Draco's fingers tighten.

"Six," Potter admitted. Draco nearly winced. That high? It was probably much worse for the Auror to admit even that much.

Draco drew his fingers up Potter's forearm, tracing the veins to the soft flesh where Potter's arm bent at the elbow.

"Does it tingle here?" Draco asked clinically. Potter shook his head. "Tell me where it starts." Draco pulled his fingers back down over Potter's skin, marveling at the softness, and admiring the delicate blue veins beneath the skin.

"There," Potter said when Draco's fingers were a handspan from his wrist. "Although it's not so bad there. It's worse in the fingers."

"Toes, too?" Draco asked.

Potter nodded. "My socks are not too uncomfortable, but I could not quite bear to put my boots on."

Potter's eyes fixed on a point over Draco's shoulder, and the blush darkened. Draco's fingers were still pressed against Potter's wrist, and he felt the pulse, strong and steady. He released the Auror, not wanting to lose the unexpected intimacy Potter had allowed. To his credit, Potter did not move away, though he lowered his hands to his sides.

"I have a potion that might help," Draco said, and called a house-elf to fetch it, along with one that would improve Potter's circulation. When the creature returned, Potter obediently gulped both potions, another testament to how badly he suffered.

"Why did Teddy bring me here?"

"Teddy trusts me," Draco said simply.

Potter laughed. "Teddy worships the ground you walk on. He mentions your name at least six times a day."

Draco scowled. He needed to have a word with the damned brat. Their relationship was supposed to be secret. Draco shrugged.

"He thought I would have access to the exact spell used on you, and find the counter-curse faster than the do-gooders at the St. Mungo's. In that, he was probably right."

"Well, thanks. You saved my life."

"Good. Hopefully it cancels that life debt I owe you for pulling me out of… that fire.' Draco's gaze shifted away, and he realized it had been years since he had thought of Vince.

Amazingly, Potter reached out and put a hand on Draco's head. Draco looked at him in surprise. "I'm sorry I couldn't save Crabbe," Potter said softly.

Draco snorted, but lightly, so he wouldn't insult Potter's obvious sincerity. "You can't save everyone."

Potter nodded. "I know. But I can try."

With that, his hand left Draco's hair and he moved toward the door. Draco smiled softly, realizing that those few words summed up Potter completely. It was what had driven him to defeat Voldemort and save them all. It had kept him in the Auror Department when by all rights he should have been the Minister of Magic by now.

Draco nearly called the Auror back and asked him to stay a bit longer, but he simply raised his hand and watched Potter Disapparate. He still belonged to the Ginger Shrew, after all. The cheating, foolish, utterly stupid bint that did not deserve to breathe the same air as Potter.

Draco swore and went back to his own room. He wondered when the fuck his obsession with Potter had grown into something deeper and stronger.

Valentine

Potter appeared on Valentine's Day, of all the ridiculous possible days. Draco merely raised a brow and bit back a snide question about why Potter wasn't spending the day with his lovely wife. After all, he preferred the Auror to be with him, and antagonizing him wasn't the wisest course.

He coaxed Potter into the library for tea, and waited patiently for Potter to divulge the reason for his visit.

"What can you tell me about Angelica Parkinson?" Potter finally asked. That question would not have been on the top ten thousand list of questions Draco expected Potter to ask.

"Pansy's daughter? The child of immaculate conception?" Draco laughed.

"What do you mean?"

"Pansy has never divulged the identity of the father. Not even to me."

Potter blinked at him so long that Draco finally translated the expression. He snorted. "You thought I was the father."

"The girl looks—"

"Quite a lot like me, yes. Pansy's idea of a little joke. I suspect she went to Sweden or Iceland and culled through the purebloods looking for someone with my physical characteristics. When that failed to produce a sufficiently blond child, she went to America and had the infant genetically altered. Apparently, they are obsessed with looks there, and have turned such magic into an art."

Potter looked appalled. "Why would she do that?"

"She was a bit upset when I married Martinique. She got over it, thankfully, but yes, Angelica looks more like me than like any of Pansy's other boy toys. Personality-wise, she's an identical copy of Pansy."

"That is a terrifying revelation. I was hoping—against all odds, mind you—that the girl would turn out to be sweet and kind."

"Why the sudden interest in a thirteen year old girl?"

"Albus is taking her to Hogsmeade this weekend."

It was Draco's turn to be appalled. "Albus? Your delicate, gentle son? She'll eviscerate him."

"Al is not delicate! He's much tougher than he looks. He has survived all these years with James as his brother."

Draco had never met James, so he had no frame of reference, except for glimpses of the rambunctious boy at King's Cross Station.

"What possessed Albus to pursue Angelica Parkinson?" Draco asked.

Harry sighed. "I've no idea. I got a letter from Lily and she commented on it, but added that Al did not act very smitten. I suppose girls notice that sort of thing."

"Scorpius will take care of Albus," Draco said and dismissed the matter. He knew Scorpius was dating a Ravenclaw girl, so it was possible Al was simply leveling the scales. But messing with a Parkinson was akin to playing with fire. That girl was Slytherin to the core.

Potter poked at his quince tart with his fork and Draco sensed the Auror had something else on his mind. He forced himself not to drum his fingertips on the table with impatience. Finally, the Auror stopped torturing his food and set aside the pronged implement.

"I brought you something," Potter blurted abruptly. "It's probably stupid, and you might not even want it, and I'm sorry it took me so long…"

"Perhaps you should stop babbling and just give it to me," Draco suggested dryly.

Potter nodded. He reached into his robes and pulled out a beautiful rosewood box. He slid it across the table to Draco, who suddenly knew what it contained. His breath caught in his throat.

Draco cracked open the box to behold his old hawthorn wand. He looked at it for a long moment, and then his fingers caressed it gently.

"I don't know why I never gave it back. But I didn't see much of you after the war, and it seemed wrong to just owl it back to you. I suppose some evil part of me wanted you to ask for it back…"

Draco lifted the wand out, barely hearing Potter's renewed flood of words. It felt strange in his hand, and seemed smaller than he remembered.

"Anyway," Potter finished, "It's yours. It's always been yours, and I wanted to thank you."

Draco took a deep breath and cast Lumos. The wand lit up, brilliantly and effortlessly. Draco had grown comfortable with his replacement wand, but there was something… elemental about his first wand. He had always felt somewhat hindered by using a different wand, even thought it had been similar in construction and design. Draco quickly Levitated every item on the table and sent them floating around the room haphazardly. He grinned at Potter, unable to stop himself. He felt almost giddy.

Potter rose from the table and backed away to avoid the flying objects. Draco quickly got up and went to stand in front of the Auror. Potter smiled at him and Draco enveloped him in a hard embrace. He chuckled into the Auror's neck and held the stiff body tightly.

"Thank you, Potter. And Happy Valentine's Day." He had an urge to lick the soft throat beneath his lips. He fought it, and was rewarded when Potter relaxed in his arms.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Malfoy," he said quietly. His arms rose to wrap gently around Draco's shoulders, touching so lightly it barely qualified as a hug. They stood that way for a long time, until Potter's discomfort drew him away.He smiled gently at Draco before he Disapparated. It was the best Valentine's Day Draco could remember.

Teddy Lupin married Victoire Weasley at Easter. It was a beautiful spring wedding, held at the Burrow. Draco attended, but spent the whole of the ceremony with Narcissa and Andromeda. He nodded cordially to Potter, who shepherded his evil wife from Weasley to Weasley. Draco thought Potter's smile looked more strained by the moment, and wished he could rescue the Auror and escape like Albus and Scorpius had done the instant the vows had been spoken and the music began.

Draco bid the happy couple good tidings, drank a simple toast, and Apparated home with the two boys. He spent the evening teaching Albus and Scorpius how to extract the creamy filling from Easter eggs, leaving only the chocolate shell. He had never tired of that prank at Hogwarts.

Draco had given Teddy a house as a wedding gift. Of course, the proud fool would never have accepted it, so Draco simply pretended he was selling it to the boy at a ridiculously low price. Draco would forward the monthly payments to an account set up for the Lupin's eventual children. The house bordered the Malfoy estate—in fact had been part of it—and was far too large for Teddy and his wife, but it had been a self-serving gift on Draco's part. Teddy would be close by in the event that Draco ever needed him. Narcissa also seemed quite taken with Victoire, so Draco hoped they would spend more time together. All in all, Draco was quite pleased with his gift.

Potter brought Albus to see Scorpius shortly after the summer break began. Teddy had sent Draco an owl, so Draco was prepared. He met the two Potters at the front gates, and quipped briefly with Albus before the boy raced off to the house to find Scorpius.

Draco put his hands on Potter's shoulders. "What is it?" he asked.

Potter reached up and took Draco's wrists, holding them as though to keep himself upright. The Auror's head dropped forward until his brow rested against Draco's. He seemed to draw comfort from the odd pose. Their breath mingled, but for once Draco did not feel a surge of desire. Potter was obviously in too much pain.

"It's Ginny," Potter said finally. "She's part of that goddamned pureblood club. She's been part of it for months. The same group that nearly killed me, Draco."

Potter's grip on his wrists was almost bruising. Draco tightened his hands on Potter's shoulders. He tried to speak, but the truth tangled in his throat the way a lie never would. He had to speak it, even if Potter hated him for it. He deserved the truth.

"I know," Draco said.

The dark head rose, and Potter's emerald eyes flared with an altogether new pain. He tried to pull away, but Draco held on. "Listen to me! You had to find out on your own! Coming from me—would you have believed it? Look past your anger and tell me the truth! Would you have believed me?"

"Yes!" Harry cried, still struggling in Draco's grasp, but he did not use his full strength. After a moment, he sagged. Draco did not let go, fearing an Auror tEric, but Potter's voice was quiet and he shook his head. "No. No, damn you, I wouldn't have believed it. I barely believe it now."

Draco released him, more relived that he could say, but he felt nearly overwhelmed by the truth he yet concealed. God, how could he add that blow to this? Maybe Ginny would come to her fucking senses. Maybe there was still a chance she could become the person Potter so desperately needed.

"Can we go inside?" Harry asked suddenly. "I need a drink."

Draco nodded. They walked side by side up the long drive to the Manor, with Draco wishing he could reach out and comfort the Auror, but knowing Harry would never allow it.

"She said she was just having fun," Harry said bitterly. "Having a few drinks, playing cards. She said she never indulged in any Muggle-baiting. Do you know, Draco? Do you know for sure?"

Draco wondered if the use of his first name was a calculated move on Harry's part, but fuck, if so it was working.

"She participated. I know for certain. The person I've been receiving information from to pass on to you informed me. I'm sorry." Draco called a house-elf and ordered tea, even though Harry could probably use something stronger. "What are you going to do?" he asked when the elf returned. Draco poured tea into hefty mugs—he has stopped using the delicate porcelain after Potter's first attempt at drinking from the tiny cups.

The Auror took it woodenly and sipped, staring blankly at a painting of Abraxas Malfoy slaying a dragon. The event had never actually happened, but the man had commissioned several similar heroic paintings. Draco had dreamed of performing such valiant deeds as a child, but now he knew that heroism did not come with a sword. It came with a scar and a pair of haunted green eyes.

"I don't know," Harry said finally. "It's surprising, but in a way, it's not. I don't even know my own wife any longer. Somewhere along the way, we seem to have lost touch with each other. I can't even look back and see when it began…"

"People change," Draco said quietly, joining Harry on the couch, but not sitting quite close enough to touch. "Some people grow, and some people regress."

"And some people do neither. We just follow the same bloody pattern of our lives day in and day out, and expect that nothing will ever change, while deluding ourselves that everything around us is fine." Harry's voice was bitter.

"Do you like being an Auror?" Draco asked.

The green eyes flicked to him, seeming surprised and almost amused at the random question.

"Yes. I mean, I did. I still do, of course, but…" A pale hand rose to tug through the black locks. "Well, I'm not twenty any more. I can't keep doing this much longer. There are days I'm so tired or sore it's all I can do to drag myself out of bed. It won't be long before I get someone killed. I nearly got myself killed."

Draco snorted. "According to Teddy, there were five of them. Even when you were twenty, I'm not sure you could have taken them all."

Harry seemed not to hear him. "I suppose I should take some bloody desk job. Maybe if I spend more time at home, Ginny will…"

Draco laughed. He could not help himself. Harry glared at him with an expression so endearingly familiar that Draco laughed again.

"Potter, you could no more take a desk job than a Muggle child could cast a Lumos with a willow branch. You would be bored out of your bloody mind in a week. As for your relationship with the Ginger Shrew, is that really what you want?"

"Of course it's what I want. I want things to be back to what they were. Everything was so good when we were first married. I just wish I knew what happened to us. We can't even have a civil conversation without it deteriorating into a battle."

Draco set his cup down and slid over to put his arm around the Auror. Harry stiffened and Draco sighed in annoyance. "Relax, Potter, I'm not going to ravish you."

Harry relaxed with obvious effort, and then fairly collapsed against Draco's shoulder with a sigh. The capitulation amazed Draco for only a moment. He laid his face against Potter's hair and added, "Unless you want me to."

Harry made a snorting noise and tipped his head back to look at Draco, who felt the air seize up in his lungs. Merlin, Harry was in his arms, looking at him with those spectacular eyes, close enough that their breath merged. Draco's arm tightened reflexively.

"What would you do, if you were me?" Harry asked.

I'd take you straight to bed and forget all about that stupid bint I married, Draco wanted to reply. Harry's mouth was slightly parted, practically begging Draco to kiss him. Draco lowered his head, feeling desire licking through him like wildfire. Impossibly thick lashes fluttered closed over verdant eyes, as if Potter were expecting to be kissed. Draco paused, hauling hard at the reins of his lust. He knew a very Slytherin mind lurked beneath Potter's Gryffindor exterior. This could be a fucking test.

Draco's lips abruptly shifted their trajectory, and he placed a brotherly kiss on Harry's forehead. The black hair was soft as silk against his cheek.

"I'm not you, Potter. I'm about as far from you as it's possible to get."

Harry relaxed even further, and Draco breathed a mental sigh of relief. If it had been a test, Draco had apparently passed.

"Actually, you're about as close to me as it's possible to get."

Draco nearly choked in order to hold back suggestions about ways to get far, far closer.

"And you didn't answer my question," Potter continued.

"My rules don't apply to your situation, Potter," Draco managed. "Martinique and I slept together long enough to produce Scorpius. After that, we were both free to seek our own interests. We were never 'in love' the way you and the Weaselette were."

Potter moved his head a bit so he could meet Draco's eyes once more.

"So, you've never been in love?"

"Once," Draco admitted after a long pause.

"Me, too," Potter replied and dropped his head back to Draco's shoulder. Draco's fingers lightly caressed Potter's arm. "I should go home."

"You can stay the night if you'd like."

Potter sighed. "Best not. But thanks for the offer."

Even so, he stayed where he was for a long time before Apparating home.