(It seemed wrong to stop there, so have another chapter...)

Speechlessness was becoming far too frequent a condition, Draco reflected as he looked into Harry's earnest face. The fact that the man was a virgin was difficult to come to terms with. He'd been truthful before; either Carmichael was the world's largest imbecile, or he wasn't even vaguely interested in cock. Draco would not have lasted a week living in the same house with Harry. Their present circumstance was proof enough of that.

"Harry, I don't think you could be terrible at anything if you tried. And yes, that was a compliment and no; do not let it go to your head because I don't plan to make a habit of it." His gaze left Harry's green eyes to drop to the tip of his cock, peeping through Harry's well-lubed fingers. "So, I would appreciate you getting on with the mastering of your next challenge and put that where it belongs. Here, let me help."

Draco wouldn't need much preparation. He enjoyed being fucked and regularly used a large selection of toys when a suitable body could not be found—and truthfully the toys received far more attention than the rare body, because Draco was endlessly selective and could find fault with nearly everyone, plus discretion was necessary in his business. He placed a pillow under his arse to give Harry's easier access, and then guided him through the process of inserting a finger or two, just to apply a thick coating of the gel.

"If you ever bottom, we'll prepare you much more thoroughly, but for me I would simply like to feel you as quickly as possible, so that's quite enough." Draco's words felt somewhat abrupt and bossy, but the expression on Harry's face and the gentleness of his hands had been heart-wrenchingly adorable, and Draco couldn't deny the fact that with every small touch that Harry's invisible bonds were wrapping more firmly around Draco's heart.

"I think—can we try that later tonight?"

Draco shut his eyes and gave thanks to every god in every pantheon, and then gasped when the head of Harry's cock breached him.

"Oh Merlin, was that okay—holy hell, you feel amazing. Can I—?" Harry pushed further inside, apparently unable to wait for Draco's approval, although that approval was forthcoming with a groan of pure pleasure as Harry filled him. Salazar, it had been a long time. Not for the first time, he wondered why cock was so much better than any toy, mechanical or magical.

Harry's awed murmurs and the hands tightening and loosening on Draco's hips gave him part of the answer. The real deal was always better than a cheap knockoff. And the real Harry Potter was definitely better than the dark-haired men Draco had picked up in assorted clubs across the globe. He hadn't really admitted to his preference before, but now he allowed himself to admit that he'd been smitten for years.

"Move, Harry. That's it. Just like that. Merlin, you're perfect." Draco clamped his teeth into his lower lip to stop himself from saying even more ridiculous things that Harry could use against him later, but the smile on his face at the moment was worth it. Harry moved with the same grace that Draco had admired during Hogwarts Quidditch games; he set an exquisite rhythm and seemed attuned to every nuance of Draco's body. Each approving gasp assured that the motion would be repeated, and every subtle expression of negation led to a gentle squeeze and a change of movement. Harry was as naturally gifted a lover as he was a hero, and Draco could find little fault in his performance. He even paused now and again to lean down and kiss Draco, something Harry couldn't possibly have known he liked.

Despite Harry's brilliance and Draco's enjoyment, his erection had only achieved half-hardness when Harry started to build up steam. Draco could tell he was close by the shaking of his thighs and the slick shine of sweat covering his torso. Draco would have loved to come again, but he wasn't a teenager anymore and the days of instantaneous round two erections was past. However, the night was young and it was likely that Harry would recover more quickly, having received the benefit of Auror training and being extremely fit.

Harry's hands held tightly to Draco's hipbones and his breath came in loud gasps, accompanied by Draco's name. "I can't stop. Merlin, Draco. Is this—?"

"Let it come, Harry. You're doing great." Harry looked beautiful atop him, thrusting wildly, hair damp and unruly as ever, green eyes half-closed and his body a marvel of constricting muscles. Impulsively, Draco reached out and gripped one of Harry's wrists, only to have Harry twist his arm and link their fingers together. It was awkward, given their pose, but felt foolishly intimate, and when Harry came Draco thought their knuckles might crack from the added pressure, but it was fine; it was better than fine.

And when Harry collapsed on top of him, sweaty and spent and panting Draco's name in a tone that sounded like religious devotion, well, that was even better.

21st July, 2005 -Thursday

Harry slept in. He knew he shouldn't, but when he woke before dawn and felt Draco curled next to him, one arm slung over his waist and hot breath dampening the back of his neck, he knew he wouldn't have left the bed if his life had depended upon it. Instead, he snuggled back into Draco's warmth, linked their fingers more tightly together, and mentally catalogued the sore places in his body. His legs, hips, buttocks and, of course, his arse, ached in a way that was far from unpleasant. They had been awake until much too early in the morning, exploring preferences and nuances until exhaustion had finally won over curiosity.

Despite Harry's willingness to sleep the day away and awaken naturally in Draco's arms, a Patronus was more effective than any alarm at forcing him to sit up and grab for his glasses before remembering to Summon them from downstairs.

Hermione's otter patiently waited until he could see it before delivering the message. "Harry, I need to speak to you urgently. Please come to my office at the Ministry." It disappeared as Harry sat up and frowned. He wondered what he should wear, whether jeans and a t-shirt would be appropriate or if he needed to suit up in full Auror gear and return to active duty. Neither sounded appealing; he wanted to stay in bed with Draco.

"Don't go yet," Draco said behind him. He heard more than felt Draco moving, and then a warm body pressed against his back and enveloped him in a clinging hug as lips brushed over his neck.

"I have to. Hermione never bothers me unless it's important."

"It's important, but you need some information first."

Harry twisted round until he could see Draco and look him in the eye. "Merlin, please tell me what you know, and promise me I won't…" He choked the words off, unspoken. He doubted there was much of anything in the world that would make him regret the night past. Draco could have killed the Minister and Harry would probably forgive him for it, even though he would hate himself for eternity for being such a sap. "Please tell me you haven't killed Kingsley."

Draco gave him a stern look. "What are you on about? I need to tell you about Liam Nottingham."

"You killed Liam Nottingham?"

Draco pinched him, hard enough that Harry yelped and rubbed the tender spot above his hipbone. "Ouch, hey!"

"Stop being an idiot and listen. I went to see Nottingham yesterday. You know he sent that message requesting a meeting, yes?"

"Yeah, but that wasn't supposed to be until—"

"Honestly, Harry, do you think I'd be bloody foolish enough to wait? Anyone could have intercepted that message and lain in wait for us. Or it could have been a trap. Naturally, I went to confront him immediately."

"And?"

"And he gave me some very useful information in exchange for his safety and the immediate relocation of his family. Pansy and I spent most of the afternoon whisking him out of the country and burying all trace of him. I daresay she will never find him."

"Pansy will never find him?" Harry frowned in confusion.

"No, silly. Chang will never find him."

Harry spent possibly too long wondering who the hell he knew named "Chang" because Draco pinched him again.

"Cho Chang, Harry, Merlin, catch up. Head of the Department of Mysteries Chang. Terrifying female with thighs of steel and tendencies towards hiring murderous, hateful ex-Death Eaters to take care of the minor irritants in her life Chang. The person you took to the Yule Ball back in fourth year. That Chang?"

"Wait, what are you—thighs of steel? How do you know that?"

Draco sighed, but the smile playing about his lips seemed amused. "Trust you to focus on the most inane bit of information in that entire sentence. Cho Chang hired Virgil Crabbe to kill me."

"What?"

"Do not look at me like that, Potter, I am perfectly serious and the pieces have finally fallen into place. I suspected her after… well, I've been watching her for quite some time, but then I met with Liam Nottingham and he confirmed everything. Do you know that she contracted Fenrir Greyback to kidnap Nottingham's son in order to put a dreadful scare into him? Nottingham was threatening to flee from their operations and tell Shacklebolt everything. Luckily for him, she decided to simply kidnap the child rather than disembowelling him, or tapping Nottingham himself with a Killing Curse. She erred in thinking it would cow him rather than making him more desperate to escape."

"Operations?"

Draco nodded. "Chang has tentacles in many illegal things. I know about several of them; I simply never had enough proof to take to Shacklebolt. Despite that, I am completely certain that Nottingham spoke the truth. He gave me a huge list of items that Pansy is off fact-checking for me now. I should have been out there with her instead of giving in to your persuasive charms, not that I regret that in the slightest." His fingers caressed Harry's hipbones gently.

Harry would have leant in for a kiss, but his mind was whirling. "Bloody hell, are you saying that Cho has been behind all of this? The Fenrir thing, and Crabbe—what about Rosier?"

"I am not a hundred percent certain of her involvement in that one, but it wouldn't surprise me to find that she was. She has been eliminating people who've stood in her way for years, and if she found Granger to be an obstacle, she would not hesitate to remove her."

"But what does Cho want?" Reluctantly, Harry pulled away from Draco's warmth and debated taking a quick shower. He decided he'd better—he was covered in lubricant and smeared with substances both pleasant and not, and likely reeked of sex. It was a divine smell in the bedroom; at the Ministry, not so much.

"Power, of course. How do you think she ended up as head of the Department of Mysteries?"

"She worked her way up!"

"That she did, and I'm not suggesting she isn't extraordinarily intelligent and competent. But no one ever wondered what happened to Steadham? The man was in the prime of his life."

"It was natural causes. Heart failure, I think." Harry rummaged in his drawers, seeking a clean pair of underwear and some matching socks. He found two that were close and shut the drawer.

"Heart failure assisted with a dash or two of Sarthan Poison in his morning tea."

Harry turned to stare at him. "You can prove that?"

"Of course not. I already told you I don't have enough evidence to take to Shacklebolt. However, one of the ingredients in Sarthan Poison is Latrodectus Katipo spider venom, and that cannot be obtained, even illegally, without some very expert-looking official papers. Expert enough that they came directly from the Ministry itself in this case. I tracked them the papers to Nottingham, whom I first suspected of being the ringleader. It was only after the Fenrir incident that I realised someone was holding his leash. It did not take a genius to determine who that was, but Chang covers her tracks well."

"Then how did you find out it was her?"

Draco threw back the covers and left the bed to pick up his own clothing from the floor. He surveyed his wrinkled trousers with obvious dismay. "I pulled up every record I'd ever had on her and set Blaise and Pansy digging for more, but carefully. Not carefully enough, as it turned out, because she sent Crabbe after me without hesitation. She would have let him kill me, too, despite the fact that I told her my death would leak everything I knew to the press."

"And would it?"

"It would have been sent to you, but I don't think it would have been enough. There might have been a sensational scandal and much speculation, but Chang probably would have weathered it, denied everything, and come out even stronger."

"Are you positive she sent Crabbe?"

"She came to visit me under the guise of Polyjuice. She was careful—very careful—but I knew it was her."

"How? Polyjuice is pretty convincing."

"If you wear enough of the same perfume or cologne, you build up immunity to the scent. When Chang transformed into the man she chose as her guise to visit me, she dumped on a fair bit of strong cologne—and even some alcohol—to try and disguise the scent of her perfume, but some of it still lingered. Polyjuice changes the appearance of the outward form; it does not alter the composition. I picked up a whiff of her perfume beneath the masking scents. It is very distinctive and expensive. If you have ever been in her office at the Ministry, you will know what I mean."

When Harry thought about it, he realised that Cho's office did have a memorable scent, as did Cho herself whenever he'd encountered her.

"She was being careful enough to fool most people, but I've made a habit of noticing such things."

Harry walked to Draco and pulled him into a kiss. "You are a man of many talents."

Draco preened. "I know."

"And I'm late. I'm going to pop into the shower. What are you going to do?" Harry headed for the bathroom, picking up his wand on the way and casually Summoning the rest of his clothing as he went.

"I'm coming with you, of course. If Chang suspects me of having a hand in Notthingham's disappearance, which she most likely will, then we must prepare for anything. Don't forget to bring that magical cloak of yours. We might need it."

Harry glanced over his shoulder before he left the room. "Perhaps you should join me in the shower, then? To save time."

Draco's chuckle followed him out of the room. In the end, the mutual shower might have taken slightly longer than two consecutive, short showers, but it was also far more satisfying.

oooOooo

Draco sent Potter's owl to Pansy before he joined Harry in the shower. The fact that she hadn't shown up yet likely meant that Harry had strengthened the wards. Although he didn't regret the night previous, he couldn't suppress a nudge of worry about Pansy. She and Christine were all that Draco had left.

Although, he had to admit when he and Harry brought each other off with quick, mutual handjobs in the shower, between smouldering kisses, it was just possible that now he had Harry, as well.

The Atrium was not particularly busy when they Flooed to the Ministry. It was a Thursday morning and they had arrived during the slow period between the morning rush of arrivals and the noon crowd escaping for lunch. Draco followed Harry as he bypassed the reception desk with a nod and a tip of his imaginary hat towards the woman seated there. She gave him an indulgent smile and ignored Draco completely.

Granger was not in her office, and the aide stationed nearest to Granger's space hadn't seen her. "I was a bit late and she was gone when I got in." Draco tried not to worry and gave Harry a reassuring smile, although anxiety coiled in his midsection as they made their way to the Auror Division.

"Maybe she's waiting in my office," Harry suggested. Partway back to the lift, a memo waylaid them by bouncing against Harry's forehead. He snatched it with a frown and opened it up. "Merlin, I've been summoned to Kingsley's office."

"Do you want me to keep looking for Granger?"

Harry shook his head. "I'd rather keep you with me, if you don't mind."

Draco leaned close and murmured in his ear. "I don't mind at all."

Harry blushed, but pushed back for a moment, just enough to convey his approval of Draco's idea, and then he seemed to pull the Auror cloak around himself and strode away with a determined step. Draco matched his pace and they quickly reached Shacklebolt's office. Quartermain's desk was unsurprisingly vacant and Draco noticed Harry bite his lip as he glanced at it, but then he knocked at Shacklebolt's door before pushing it open to the Minister's response.

"Auror Potter—oh good. I was hoping you knew where Malfoy had gone. Where have you been, Malfoy?"

Draco shrugged. "With Harry." He dropped into one of the Minister's chairs and crossed one ankle over his knee, feigning boredom.

"What do you know about the disappearance of Quentin Quartermain and Liam Nottingham?"

"I know that their names are made up of far too many syllables. Do you suppose they are lovers? Perhaps they eloped."

Harry and Shacklebolt gave him identical looks of disbelief and Draco raised both hands in supplication.

"What? It wouldn't be the first time. I can see the headlines now: 'Secret Ministry Romance! From Supply Cupboards to Sneaky Elopement!' Wouldn't that be something?"

"Draco—" Harry began, but Shacklebolt cut him off.

"Nottingham is a widower and Quartermain is a ruddy homophobe! They are not lovers! Are you trying to tell me you know nothing about the disappearance of either of them?"

Draco crossed his arms with a huff and allowed his brows to draw down in a thunderous scowl. "Honestly, why am I always the bad guy? As much as I would like to lay claim to every misdeed in the world, I am afraid there will always be more than enough evildoers to go round. I still say they eloped. The homophobes are generally hiding their terrifying love for cock, don't you know?"

Draco watched as Harry turned away with a cough, not-subtly attempting to hide his laughter. Shacklebolt leant back in his chair and massaged his temples with both hands whilst heaving a great sigh. "Malfoy, I will never stop cursing the day you walked through the doors of this building."

"Oh, don't give me that. Fenrir is back in Azkaban, Ralston Rosier is locked up, and Virgil Crabbe is dead. I have done your administration more favours in the past month than you can ever repay."

Before Shacklebolt could spit out a retort, a loud knock sounded on the door. "Enter!" Shacklebolt bellowed and the door opened to reveal Weasley, who was munching on something that wafted the scent of bacon into the room.

"Forry, Mimifer," Weasley mumbled through his full mouth. He chewed quickly and swallowed. "Sorry. You sent for me?"

"Yes, I need you to follow up on the Quartermain case. I sent Quentin a message last night and he did not respond, so this morning I sent an Auror out to his house. He is gone; his bed hadn't been slept in, and none of his personal effects seem to be missing. It screams of foul play."

"Have you seen Hermione?" Harry asked.

Weasley nodded. "Yeah, she went to the Department of Mysteries to help them with some research thing. Cho stopped in this morning and asked her personally. Hermione sent me a memo." He puffed up proudly as Draco shot to his feet and Harry gave him an alarmed look.

"Cho Chang asked for her personally?"

Ron nodded, obviously picking up on the sudden tension. His gaze flicked from Harry to Draco and back again. "What's up?"

A man rushed into the room through the door Weasley had left open. "Minister! There was an explosion in Diagon Alley! Gringotts is under attack!"

Harry gasped and turned, but Draco took a quick step and latched a hand onto his arm. He shook his head with a minute jerk and Harry stopped. Surprisingly, Weasley noticed that also, and his eyes narrowed.

"Is that a fact, or a bloody rumour?" Shacklebolt demanded as he got to his feet. "Andrew, how many times have I asked you not to barge in here without something concrete?"

"I'll have it checked out, Minister," Weasley promised.

"We'll…go along to help out," Harry said with a jerk of his head towards the door.

"Fine. And then I'll expect you back here. Especially you, Malfoy. I'm not finished with you yet."

Draco bowed low. "As you wish, your Ministership."

The three of them went out, leaving the unfortunate Andrew to bear the brunt of Shacklebolt's wrath.

"What is it?" Weasley demanded when they were out of earshot of the office. "What's up with Cho Chang and Hermione?"

"We need to get to the Department of Mysteries now."

"Now? I can't! I have to go to Diagon Alley!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Are you the Head Auror, or not? Send someone, Weasley. Have you heard the term delegate?"

"Oh. Yeah, I guess I could. But what if Gringotts is under attack?"

"Then send someone competent. I wouldn't be surprised if the Diagon Alley drama is a diversion to draw us out. We need to find Chang."

Harry nodded. "I agree. If what you've told me is true, we need to confront her now. And I'm worried about Hermione."

"All right, we're stopping by the Auror Department and you two are filling me in on the way. Start talking." With that, Weasley broke into a jog and beckoned them to hurry.

oOo

Weasley actually seemed competent, for once, when they reached the Auror Department. He rounded up a crowd of lazy-looking Aurors, got them wound into a dither, and then sent them off on various errands. While he was yelling, Seamus Finnigan sidled close to Draco and then made a beckoning gesture with his head. Draco noted that Harry's attention was fully upon Weasley and the spectacle he was making, so he joined Finnigan a short distance away.

"You asked me to keep an eye on Eddie Carmichael, so I did. He's here."

"Here?" Draco glanced around.

"Not here in the Auror Department, but somewhere in the building. I Flooed in early this morning and was having a chat with Edna at Reception when I spied Carmichael coming out of the Floo. I hurried to catch him without letting on that I was running, but I missed the bloody doors. Can't tell you where he went. He avoided the desk, so there's no record of his business. I thought he might have come to find Harry, but no one has seen him on this level."

"Curious," Draco said, although he had a sneaking suspicion where Carmichael might have got off to. "Thanks, Finnigan. And don't forget Ulyanovsk."

Finnigan nodded. "Ulyanovsk. Right."

Draco went back to Harry, who leaned his way. "I've never seen you chummy with Seamus before. What's up?"

Draco clapped Harry on the back and laughed. "Harry, Finnigan and I are the best of friends. Don't you know I've gone through great pains to befriend everyone in your life?"

Harry shot him a sidelong glance full of suspicion. "Yeah, in order to fulfil your own sneaky agenda." He held up a hand when Draco straightened in an affronted manner. "Save it. You can make up some ridiculous story for me later. I look forward to hearing it, but right now we need to find Hermione."

Draco was torn between consternation at Harry's lack of trust and a swell of pride that Harry could see through nearly all of Draco's machinations. He made a mental note to concoct a story worthy of Scheherazade and her thousand-and-one-nights. In fact, he might have to draw it out just that long, in order to guarantee himself a place in Harry's bed for that many evenings in a row. He gave Harry a speculative look.

A grinned tugged at the corner of Harry's lips. "Merlin, it should be illegal that you look so attractive when you're plotting. Stop it at once."

Draco only gave him a smug smirk and made a humming noise. Weasley stomped up and curtailed their banter with an impatient gesture. "Immediate crisis dealt with. Let's go."

And back to the lifts they went.

~TBC~