What the fuck is wrong with you? I was ready to forgive you for what you did at Malfoy's hearing, and then I read the paper just to find out that you're snogging him in public! Has the world gone fucking mad? Has the knob really gotten a love potion in you? Is that what this is about? Why is he living with you? Why is he allowed within one hundred feet of you? WHY ARE YOU SNOGGING MALFOY? Consider yourself one friend short until you get your priorities straight. I can't believe you chose fucking Malfoy over my sister. You really are a piece of work, Harry.

Fuck off.

-Ron

Harry wanted to Floo to Hogwarts just to kick Ron's teeth in and leave. He'd known Ron's would be one of the letters he'd have to read, but it had ticked him off more than he'd thought it would. It didn't help that Draco hadn't left his room in two days despite his attempts to draw him out of his self-induced solitary confinement. Harry was on the verge of mental breakdown, and had owled into work that day, feeling unable to brave the disapproving stares of his coworkers. He needed to get the letters out of the way, and he needed time to recuperate after the mess that he'd accidentally caused by showing Draco his affection publicly. Inhaling deeply, he unfolded the next letter in the pile.

Harry,

I sincerely hope that what I've read in the news isn't true. Is it? The photo makes it really hard to think it's not. I know you said you like blokes as well, but… Malfoy? Really? I can't help but feel slightly offended. What could you possibly see in him? Have you forgotten all the things he did in school? Have you forgotten the fact that he's a Death Eater? Honestly, Harry, I don't understand. If there's some secret Malfoy I haven't met yet, who's not a wanking shite-monger, I'd be glad to know. It would make more sense than you snogging the same Malfoy we've known for years. I really hope nothing horrible is happening, and that Skeeter just twisted things like usual. Please write back, Harry. Everyone is worried.

-Ginny

It seemed a bit far-fetched that everyone was worried. Ron obviously wasn't worried. Ron was a dick. Ron was practically begging for a Knee-Reversal Hex. Harry tossed Ginny's letter into the pile of opened letters to his left. He only had one left to read, and he was unable to guess who it was from, but he opened it anyway.

Harry!

Congrats on leaving that old dusty closet behind!

-George

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at George's short note. It didn't refer to any of the events listed in the article, nor did it mention Harry's relationship. It was simple and to the point, and didn't involve any personal feelings. With all of the negative responses he'd gotten it was the perfect comic relief for the situation. Harry stacked the letters into a neat pile and set them in the drawer of his writing desk, then pulled out several rolls of parchment and dipped his quill in ink. His first letter was addressed to Ron, and he placed his quill on the parchment and began writing, doing his best not to let his anger rip the page.

Ron,

If you really think that the way I interact with Draco is something worth dropping me as a friend for, then I'm not the only one who has priorities in need of sorting out and we're probably both better off not speaking. I assure you that I won't be losing sleep over the matter, in any case. I've got far more important things to be focused on at the moment, and if you'd take a moment to, for once, not let anger rule every poor decision you make, you might find that the same applies to you.

Thanks for nothing.

-Harry

The letter was short and Harry hoped that it expressed disapproval and simultaneous apathy towards the matter. He wasn't actually apathetic about Ron's letter, but he thought that if he made himself out to be that it would get Ron's goat even more than if he were to blow up verbally. Harry had briefly considered sending Ron a Howler, but he wasn't as upset as he would need to be for that anymore, and it would only perpetuate the rumors that Harry was acting strangely and possibly under Draco's influence in some way.

Satisfied with the contents of the letter and not really giving a damn if Ron would be upset upon reading it, he set it near the inkpot, then moved on to his response to Ginny.

Ginny,

I remember everything Draco did. It would be really hard for me to forget. He's definitely not the same person he used to be, though I don't expect you to believe me without having any proof. I think you deserve a real explanation, but I'm not completely sure I could give a good enough one without using up my entire stock of parchments. Maybe during your next break from school we could get coffee together, or something, and I'll fill you in. I could even come up to Hogsmeade if you'd like. That is, if you're really interested. I'm not sure how exes are supposed to act towards each other, so I'll leave it up to you.

Most of what Skeeter wrote had some truth to it, but it was written in a way that makes me look bad, as she's in the habit of doing. What's worse to me is the way she's portrayed Draco, but I wouldn't expect you to fully understand that bit, or anyone else for that matter. I'm sorry if my being close with Draco offends you. That was never my intention, and I hope that someday you'll be able to accept him. I see a lot in him, most of which nobody would believe if I told them. I'm not even completely sure if it's something that can be told, or if you just have to see it, but there's a lot more to him than the person I thought I knew back at Hogwarts.

Hope school's going well. Feel free to write me more if you have the time.

-Harry

There was more he'd wanted to say, but not enough room on the paper, so he set it aside to dry beside his letter to Ron. He wrote a third letter to the Daily Prophet asking for an interview. If they were going to put his name in the paper they may as well have an accurate story, straight from him. In the letter he specifically stated that he would not do an interview if Skeeter were the interviewer. He planned to ask Draco if he would accompany him to the interview, but it was nearly lunch time and Draco hadn't come out of his room at all, as far as Harry knew. He stood up from his desk and went down to the first floor where Draco's room was. When he knocked he didn't expect an answer; he hadn't gotten one any of the other times he'd tried to get Draco to come out. Still he hoped that this time would be different. No response came, though, and he struck his knuckles against the rough wood harder.

"Draco? Please come out. It's been two days." Harry thought he heard the shifting of bed springs, but couldn't be sure. "I know you can hear me." When there were no other signs of Draco's presence on the other side, he rested his head against the door. "I'm really sorry, alright?" Waiting. More silence. "I'm sorry," he muttered. He sighed and his open hand closed into a tight fist against the door before he backed away from it and returned to his room to gather the letters. He thought a trip to the post office might help him cheer up, or hoped it would at least take his mind off of the distance that had sprung up between himself and Draco.

As soon as Draco heard the front door shut he peeked out from his bedroom door, hoping that the sound hadn't been a figment of his imagination. At this point he was losing his resolve. He was beginning to feel guilty for having shut himself away for so long, but he felt the need to punish Harry for saying the things he had, for not trusting him. Harry's strained voice had almost gotten the better of him, but he couldn't bring himself to open the door. The apology wasn't enough, when Draco thought back on it, but the emotion behind it had almost been. Draco knew it was only a matter of time and the right words until his restraint dissolved, but Harry hadn't said them yet. Thus, he continued to wait.

Making his way to the kitchen, his stomach growled. Kreacher had come at his call, but he hadn't been very hungry the last couple of days. His body was catching up with the maelstrom of feelings he was drowning in, though, and he needed to leave his room just as much as he needed food. He reached the kitchen and stared vacantly into the full pantry. Nothing looked appetizing, and he found himself staring at a spider that was descending down a string of web instead of the food his body was craving.

"You're ugly and I hate you," Draco told the spider. It was true— he had never liked spiders— but he knew that his anger wasn't directed at the creature. It was just an outlet for him, and with a jolt he thought of Harry again. It was as though the spider could understand him; it stopped and twirled slowly in midair. "You don't even belong here." He wasn't sure whether he was talking to the spider anymore, and upon realising this he slammed the pantry door shut and settled on eating a block of cheddar he found. It wouldn't be very delicious on its own, but it would fill his stomach. He didn't know how long Harry meant to be gone, so he didn't feel like risking cooking a full meal. On top of that he wasn't sure he had the energy it would take to do so and didn't feel like calling on Kreacher for help.

The stairs' creaking echoed through the empty house as he returned to his bedroom and it dawned on him that he was really starting to miss Harry's company. He missed teasing him and seeing him wear the clothes Draco had helped him pick out. They hadn't played the piano together since that first time, but Draco found himself missing Harry's awful attempts, too. He sat on the edge of his bed and took a large bite of the cheese, letting the sharp flavour unfurl over his taste buds, and closed his eyes to the world. When he took his second bite of cheese he heard the front door open one floor below him and tensed. Everything in him was shouting to go down there and talk to Harry, to set aside the conflict and try to get back to where they were. Everything but that one voice, which at first had been loud and overpowering, but was now nothing more than a faint whisper, that told him to stay put. He would not give up. He would not give up. He would not give up.

But then footsteps came to his door and stopped, and he opened his eyes. Though nothing was said, he could hear the scraping of something against the wooden floorboards as a shrunken box was slipped beneath the door. The footsteps moved on and up the stairs. Draco stared at the box for a while before he set the cheese down and crossed the room to investigate. It was a case of Glacial Snow Flakes, a candy that Draco had only had once, but had enjoyed immensely. He opened the box excitedly and was greeted by a note covering the lovely glimmering flakes of candy snow.

I was a prick. Please forgive me. I miss you.

Harry missed him. Damnit. Draco knew that his will was about to break. He clutched the paper in his hand and looked back down at the box of candy, letting out a sharp exhale through his nose.

His brain presented him with the memory-induced taste of coconut and his mouth watered. With gentle fingers he removed one palm-sized, parchment thin flake from the row and snapped off a piece in his mouth. Instantly it began to melt, icy cold on his tongue in a pleasant way. This was not the apology he'd wanted, but it was close enough that he stood up and left his room, nearly jogging up the stairs to the fourth floor. Harry's bedroom door was open, and he was sitting on the edge of his bed, eyes closed, much like Draco had been.

"So, what? You expect me to forgive you over a box of cheap candy and a poorly written apology?" he asked quietly from the doorway. Harry opened his eyes and they met Draco's as surprise etched across his features. It was then that Draco felt his determination crumble.

He didn't stop to question his decision, or lack thereof, he simply marched into Harry's room and threw himself at him, knocking him over in the process.

"Dra—!" Harry shouted in a startled yelp. "Draco…" He could feel Harry's relief as one of his arms encircled Draco's waist and the other went around his shoulders. Both held him firmly to Harry's chest while Draco hid his face in the curve of Harry's neck. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said. I was just angry about the situation and your mother's reaction and I took it out on you. I don't even know what I was thinking." When Draco only responded by nuzzling against him further, Harry continued. "I didn't take the letter to Shacklebolt, either."

"What? You didn't?" Draco lifted himself away from Harry, shocked, but the hands that held him stayed put. He hadn't expected this information. Harry shook his head. There was guilt swirling in the depths of his irises and moisture lingering in the corners near his nose.

"No. You were right. It'll only make things worse. Besides, there isn't really a lot ef evidence against her, anyway. From an objective standpoint, she could just be saying that she'll make me look really bad if I don't comply. That's not a hefty enough threat to mean anything, but she could get in trouble for it because of your family's history. It isn't worth the battle. Not with the Ministry involved, anyway."

"So… that's it? You're not going to do anything?" Draco wasn't ready to believe that Harry had given up on the matter. "But you were so angry!" Harry's hand tightened where it sat on the nape of Draco's neck, only slightly.

"Well, yeah. But that's how it usually goes with me, right? Besides, I didn't say I wasn't going to do anything. I just don't want to see your mum chucked into Azkaban, if only for your sake." Draco didn't quite know how to feel. While he was touched that Harry had changed his plans for him, the tone of his voice was concerning.

"So what are you going to do, then?" Despite what Harry said, Draco was still worried about his mother, both for her freedom and for her possible retribution.

"I haven't really decided on that part, yet. I've got to think it through some more." Harry sighed, looking more aged than the young eighteen years that he was. "I was considering writing her, but I'll need to be careful if I do that. I've been thinking a lot about what you said."

He couldn't help it. Not with the sincere, solemn look on Harry's face, at least. Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms tightly around Harry's torso, his lips just brushing against Harry's jaw before he rested his chin on Harry's shoulders. He was so tightly wound with Harry's body that he could feel the rise and fall of Harry's chest. His breathing mimicked Draco's own: slow, yet restrained, as if he was trying to steady himself. The feeling of Harry against him, calm and soft and caring, was a release for Draco. If there had been any leftover anger from his previous resolution, it now dissipated, leaving only his immense joy at their reconciliation.

Harry loosened his grip, but Draco felt only a split second of disappointment before Harry's lips met his. Draco's immediately parted at the joining, and Harry responded enthusiastically but with a carefulness that made everything about it seem to be fluid. There was an ebb and flow to the kiss, and Harry's hand transitioned smoothly from Draco's neck to his face, his other never leaving Draco's waist. Even Draco was fluid, softening at Harry's touch, conforming to his shape. They broke apart, and again Draco was let down, only to be surprised as Harry's lips grazed his neck. Draco wasn't sure if he wanted to stiffen or melt at it, and he could feel all the minuscule hairs on his body raise as if electrified. He leaned into the touch of Harry's kiss against his throat, surprised further when Harry's teeth gently scraped the skin near his ear. A gasp came from somewhere, and Draco wasn't sure if it had been him or Harry, but it only added to the intensity of the situation. He moved a nervous hand to Harry's waist and his fingers dug into the flesh there. Harry's shirt had been pushed up a bit with their movements, something that did not escape Draco's notice.

When Draco began to feel a tightening in his trousers he abruptly climbed from atop Harry's languid body. Anxiety and fear pulled the breath out of him rapidly and he had difficulty trying to catch it.

"That escalated quickly," Harry said as he sat up beside Draco.

"Yeah, it did, didn't it?" He wasn't sure what else to say, as he was still trying to calm himself down, mentally and physically. Harry shifted beside him and angled himself more towards Draco.

"So, I meant to ask you before, er, before things got carried away, if you wanted to do an interview with me." Draco felt his stomach clench at the idea.

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea. Why are you doing an interview? Won't Skeeter just skew your words anyway?"

"I'm not doing an interview with her. If they let me do one I'm going to make sure someone else does the interviewing. But I wanted you to come so that you could get your story straight. The way she talked about you… That's what upset me more than anything, really. I want you to have a chance to tell your side of things, and I don't think it's a bad idea to explain ourselves better."

"I'm confused," Draco said as he shook his head slowly. "Are you saying that we should come out with our relationship as well?"

"I don't see why not. They've already outed us without our permission and dragged our names through the muck. I think you especially deserve a chance to tell your story. Plus who are they to judge us? I think it's time to put the media in their place when it comes to making such a huge deal about someone's sexuality. It shouldn't even make a difference."

"Harry," Draco began softly. "I hate to rain on your parade but I don't think it's your sexual preference that the media, and everyone else, is upset with. At least, not wholly. I think it may have more to do with who you're involved with."

"That's exactly why I think you should help me with the interview. Sure, I could tell everyone how you've changed, how you're not the same person you used to be and how much you've grown, but they're never going to believe it unless it comes from you." Harry was gazing at Draco earnestly. Draco disagreed and thought that anything would be absorbed better by the public coming from Harry, but he knew that this was something he was going to have to do eventually anyway. He just wished it could wait.

"Alright, I'll go with you━"

"Really?! Thank you!"

"On one condition," Draco finished, a smirk playing on his lips. "You have to massage my back."

"Er, what?" Harry's brows inched towards each other. "That's… that's it?"

"You should be glad that's all I'm asking for," he said with a chuckle. He didn't really know what else he would ask Harry for, but his back had been hurting quite a bit, and the knots in his muscles were those that he couldn't reach on his own, and stretching wasn't helping.

"Well, if that's all you want then I suppose I could do that for you. But you're not getting it until after the interview."

"What, you don't trust me to hold up my end of the bargain?" He'd only been joking, but when Harry's face contorted a bit with culpability he thought he could've phrased it better.

"It's not that I don't trust you, Draco."

"I was kidding." But the atmosphere was already stiff between them.

"I do trust you." Harry wasn't convinced that Draco had been completely jesting. He'd sounded as if he was, but after what had happened between them Harry couldn't help but feel like there were dual meanings to his supposed joke. Draco's lack of response to Harry's statement only added to his feeling.

The air in his bedroom seemed to thicken and Harry wondered how they would get past the mistake he'd made only two days before. Not enough time had passed between Harry's apology and his accusation.

"Are you hungry?" Harry asked. Even to him the discomfort in his voice was blatant.

"I am starving, actually. I think I'd like to eat some more of the Glacial Snow Flakes you bought me. You didn't have to do that, by the way."

"I know I didn't. I went to the post office to mail my letters and on the way back I thought…" Harry debated on telling Draco the reason behind his buying the candy, but decided that honesty would get him further than excuses, even if he only made them out of embarrassment. "I thought it might butter you up a bit. I was ready to do anything to get you out of your room, and if the snowflakes didn't work I was going to keep buying you things until you you gave up." Draco laughed, and Harry didn't realise how much he'd missed the sound until it was there.

"Trying to buy my forgiveness, were you?" Harry was about to get defensive again, but noticed Draco's smirk.

"I wasn't trying to buy your forgiveness, I was trying to buy you out of your room." Even as he calmed himself, knowing that Draco was only joking, he couldn't quite keep from being a little irked.

"Well, it worked, but don't expect it to next time. So who did you write to?"

"I'm hoping there won't be a 'next time.' I wrote to the Daily Prophet, of course. First I wrote to Ron, then Ginny." Draco's eyebrows tilted in confusion.

"You actually wasted the ink and parchment it took to respond to Weaselbee's letter?" Harry laughed at that nickname, having forgotten about Draco's use of it in the past. Maybe before Ron had sent his letter he would've defended him, but at this point he couldn't care less what Draco called him.

"I did, yeah, but only to tell him he's a nutter."

"Still a waste of time, if you ask me. Not like he's going to change his opinion on us." Harry realised at that moment that Draco must've read his letters.

"You went through my mail, didn't you?" Draco's face paled.

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. How else would you have known Ron had a bad opinion on us to start with?"

"Well— how was I supposed to know that certain letters were addressed to you? Nobody wrote your name on the outside or anything! It couldn't be helped, really."

"Sure it couldn't have," Harry scoffed. In reality he wasn't mad, but it still felt like his privacy had been invaded. He probably would've done the same thing in Draco's position. "Just ask next time, alright?" Draco looked perplexed, as though he'd expected Harry to continue to chide him.

"You're not mad that I read your mail?"

"Not really, no." Harry recalled the name Ginny had called Draco in her letter and felt the need to address that. "You're not a wanking shite-monger, by the way."

"I'm ever so thankful for your reassurance," Draco said snottily. "She's probably just jealous is all."

"She's not." Harry didn't really put his heart in defending Ginny. He wasn't upset with Ginny any longer, but he knew for a fact that jealousy was not the cause of her letter or her insult. "She's worried."

"Right, for no reason, which leads me to believe that she's jealous. What did you write back to tell her?"

"She's not worried for no reason, she's worried because as far as she knows you're the same person you've always been, and I'm sorry, but it's kind of strange that after all these years I'd be pursuing anything romantic with you. Even to me, but I've been able to get over that for the most part because of the fact that you've changed." Harry sighed and continued. "I wrote back to offer her a real explanation, which I feel she deserves." Draco was quiet for a moment, but didn't appear to be upset by his answer. He kind of nodded to himself for a moment, then pursed his lips, and finally relaxed them before responding.

"I guess I can understand that. So you didn't explain anything in the letter, then?"

"I did, but it was a short explanation compared to the one I've got rummaging around in my brain for her, or anyone who asks."

"So you're going to defend my honour?" Draco asked in a teasing tone. "My very own Boy Saviour, how lucky am I?"

"Please, stop calling me that." Draco's smile faltered at Harry's exhausted tone. "I can't stand that nickname. I can't stand that I'm not just Harry, I'm all these other things that always get in the way of Harry and it just… It gets old." There was a soft, uneven tapping on the window of Harry's bedroom, interrupting their conversation. Harry got up to open the curtains, then the window, letting the large owl into the bedroom. It winged around the room twice before dropping the official looking parchment it held in its beak onto the bed beside Draco. When it perched on the window sill it grabbed at Harry's sleeve and Harry gave it a treat to take back with it. Satisfied, the owl jumped out the window and took off.

"This looks like something from the Ministry," Draco said uneasily.

"It's probably not, and if it is, it's probably just Shacklebolt inquiring about my absence from work today." Harry sat back on his mattress next to Draco and when he took the letter, sure enough there was the Ministry seal over it. He opened it and began reading, hoping that it was only a letter addressing his absence, but as he read his hopes were dashed.

Officer Potter,

I am writing to inquire about your safety. It has become increasingly worrying to us that the rumors going around state that convicted Death Eater Draco Malfoy is sharing a domicile with you. As you have failed to attend work today, the Auror Department has taken it upon themselves to investigate the situation. Should you fail to respond to this by the eleventh hour this morning, you will find that you will have company.

-Gramble Dunkins, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement

Harry's hands were shaking by the time he finished reading the letter. He'd thought he'd had a reprieve from people barging in on his personal life when they most definitely were not welcome, but he had apparently been wrong. Checking his watch he saw that it was fifteen minutes until eleven. If he were to write out a response right now, perhaps it would get to the Ministry in time, but he highly doubted it.

"How fast can your owl fly, Draco?" Harry asked gruffly.

"Who was it from?" Draco asked, ignoring Harry's question. "What did they say?"

"How fast?" he shouted. Draco flinched, but didn't waste time responding.

"I don't know, pretty fast. Why?" Harry didn't bother answering, but pushed the letter into Draco's hands, crumpling it in his haste. He got to his writing desk as fast as he could, not bothering to sit down before taking a piece of parchment and inking a quill.

Mr. Dunkins

There is no need to investigate, I will explain everything tomorrow morning.

-Auror Potter

He ran from the room, down the stairs to Draco's and barged into the bedroom, going straight to the covered owl cage. Cosmos looked utterly aggravated when he saw that it wasn't Draco interrupting his slumber, but Harry.

"Please, I need you to take this to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Cosmos, and fast!" The owl tittered, crouched back in his cage and narrowed his eyes, clearly not wanting to cooperate. "I'll buy you a rat, an entire rat that you can have all to yourself! Just take the bloody letter!"

"Cosmos, take the letter, little one," Draco said gently from beside Harry, causing the latter to jump. Cosmos looked much more likely to go by Draco's orders than Harry's and took the letter in one talon, hopping on the other to the open door of the cage. Harry went to the window, throwing it open with a loud bang, and shortly after Cosmos was gone.

"Do you think we've got enough time?" Draco asked, his voice tight with what Harry could only assume was the same anxiety and anger he was feeling himself.

"We can only hope." But as the words escaped his mouth he heard the sounds of several pairs of loud footsteps coming from the lower levels of the house. "Fucking hell. They're early." Harry did his best to put on a mask of casual indignation to cover up the fiery rage he was really feeling and gestured for Draco to follow him.

The ground floor was crowded with about half a dozen Aurors, all dressed in their dragon scale armor. Every one of them looked prepared for battle, from their apparel to the expressions on their faces. Harry hoped that a simple explanation would get rid of them, but he had a feeling that this may not be the case. As he approached the group of Aurors he noticed that Dean was there, looking less than happy about having to be part of the investigation squad. When the group noticed Harry and Draco coming towards them, they all turned and went into a diamond shaped formation, wands at the ready. John Dawlish stepped forward out of the formation to address Harry, keeping his wand raised.

"We are here at the behest of Dunkins, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Dawlish began, a smirk twisting his cruel lips. His eyes shot back and forth between Harry and Draco where he stood behind the former. "We've come to investigate your absence from work today, and the rumor, which seems to be true, that you're harboring a Death Eater." Harry struggled to keep his eyes from rolling, barely managing it.

"That's all well and good, but Draco isn't a Death Eater anymore and he's been released from Azkaban because he was able to prove his innocence, if you don't recall," Harry said firmly, hoping he didn't sound as peeved as he felt.

"With all the news being reported about his threat to you we felt it important to see what was really going on." Dawlish ignored Harry's defence and the way he did it made Harry think he was glad to have the opportunity to make Draco's life more difficult. "I'm sure you won't mind at all if we take him in for questioning, seeing as you're an Auror and have such a worthy moral compass."

"I would mind that, actually. Does it look like I'm being threatened? Honestly." Harry was losing the cool demeanor he'd been struggling to keep in place from the start. "Any questions you need to ask can be asked right here, can't they?" Dawlish shook his head.

"I'm afraid not, Potter. We're under explicit orders, y'see, so we'll just be taking Malfoy into custody."

"Who filed the request to investigate?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer by the pleased look in Dawlish' eyes.
"I'm afraid I'm not inclined to answer your questions at this time," was Dawlish' short reply. He took a step closer to them and Harry threw his arms out protectively in front of Draco, who had yet to say anything about the situation.

"He doesn't seem to be affected by a curse or anything, Dawlish," Dean muttered, which Harry was immensely grateful for. Dawlish seemed set, however, and took a step forward. Dean seemed to take this as a hint to leave matters be; he was probably just afraid of being reprimanded, but Harry wished he would continue to speak in his— or Draco's, rather— defence. So much for reputed Gryffindor bravery.

"I'm also involved with this, so if you want to take him in you'll have to take me too!" Dawlish continued to ignore his shouting while Dean and another Auror came to hold Harry back. Another cast wrist binding spells on Draco and Harry could see the fear and confusion on his face. Harry looked to Dean for help, but his expression was unreadable as he gripped Harry's arm. "You can't take him! Leave him alone!" Nobody was listening to him and Draco's eyes became even further panicked as Dawlish and two other Aurors escorted him from the room towards the stairs. "Let him go, you can't do this!" Mrs. Black's portrait began to scream as Harry struggled against the two Aurors who held him back. He heard the whoosh of the Floo and knew that they'd already taken Draco. The two restraining him released him and Harry could feel bruises forming on his wrists and upper arms from how tightly they'd had to hold him as he attempted to break free of their grasps.

"I'm really sorry about this, Harry." Dean said as he stepped away, releasing Harry's arms. "I'd tell you who filed the request, but you probably already know who did it. See you at work tomorrow."

Harry had the strongest urge to spit in Dean's face, but held it back. It would only make things worse if he were to act out at this point, only he was sure they'd take it out on Draco just to get a rise out of Harry. The Floo activated again and Harry sank to the floor, letting Mrs. Black's screaming drown out any thoughts of how badly Draco had been beaten in prison before, or how badly he'd be beaten this time.