FIC: Benevolence (Part Five)
Oct. 10th, 2011 08:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dysonrulesI have no idea how long this fic is going to be. I said PLEASESTOP some time ago, but Draco just rolled his eyes and smirked and Harry grinned sheepishly. THAT'S A BAD SIGN, ISN'T IT? *frowny face of doom* Anyway, on with the never-ending story...
~~~~
Harry spent most of the next morning in his workshop, adding some finishing touches to a blue dragon he was making. He also attempted to scratch out a jingle for a wizarding landscaping company, but Draco’s amused horror over Harry’s previous attempts kept derailing his efforts. In fact, Harry found his thoughts wandering to Draco far too frequently, bringing a silly grin to his face and halting his hands mid-function.
He considered sending an owl message to Draco, but wasn’t quite sure what to say. He hoped the thought of Harry experimenting with other people had not pleased Draco, although he admitted to himself that making such a Slytherinesque pronouncement had been risky.
It was entirely possible that Draco wouldn’t care. The thought sent Harry out of his chair several times. He would take a few steps towards the Floo before he caught himself and returned to his work. The gamble would be wasted if he could not even let the idea stew for a bit.
Shortly after midday, the flutter of owl wings outside the window made Harry’s heart leap into his throat, but he let out a breath when he recognized the white and golden feathers of Ginny’s barn owl, Crumpet. He got up to open the window, trying not to ache with disappointment.
Ginny’s note made his blood run cold.
DM has been arrested. I thought you should know. ~G
Harry raced for the Floo.
~~**~~
He stormed through the Ministry Atrium, ignoring the whispers and gawking stares. He nodded curtly to those who waved at him or called out a greeting as he made his way straight to the reception desk. He slapped his wand on the counter.
“I need to know where Draco Malfoy has been taken.”
The receptionist did not seem surprised. She cast a spell or two on the large book in front of her and then replied, “Draco Malfoy is currently detained in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Level Two.”
“I know where it is,” Harry said and turned away, snatching up his wand as he went.
“Don’t forget your badge, Mr Potter,” she called.
He paused and then went back and took the badge, glancing at it curiously as he entered the lift. It read Harry Potter, Personal Mission. He shook his head and stuffed it into his jeans pocket before pressing the button for Level Two.
Three young women in one corner of the lift whispered together and giggled, but they said nothing to him while he waited, although one called, “Goodbye, Mr Potter!” when he exited. He lifted a hand absently as the door closed and then walked briskly to the Detention block. As luck would have it, he ran into Ron Weasley.
“Harry! What are you doing here, mate? Come to rescue me from paperwork?”
“Where is Draco Malfoy?” Harry asked. “He’s been arrested.”
Ron’s brow wrinkled. “Malfoy is here?” At Harry’s nod, Ron nodded to a nearby Auror. “Hey, Wilson! Where did they take Draco Malfoy?”
“Cell Nine, I think.” The Auror jerked a thumb towards a nearby doorway.
Harry started that way and Ron trotted after him. “What did Malfoy do now?” Ron asked.
“I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Harry strode down the rows of cells, bypassing a startled Auror seated at the guard station. Ron’s wave settled the Auror before he could detain Harry. Cell 5, 7… 9. Harry vaguely wondered how Ginny had known about Draco’s arrest before Ron, but saved that question for another time.
Draco’s silver-blond head rose when Harry reached the bars of his cell and he leaped to his feet. Draco practically flung himself at the bars and grabbed Harry by the forearms. Beside him, Harry saw Ron pull out his wand reflexively.
“Potter! Harry.” Draco’s eyes were pleading and his voice was low and distressed. “They are going for Daisy. Don’t let them Obliviate her! It was my fault. I’ll take whatever punishment is coming to me. Throw me into Azkaban, if necessary, but don’t let them…” His voice broke.
Harry reached through the bars and wrapped his arms around Draco, pulling him close despite the cold metal between them. He sensed more than heard Ron’s intake of breath.
“Was it Garnet?”
“I don’t know, but it must have been. They arrested me for breaking the International Statute of Secrecy, but no one has spoken to me since they threw me in here.”
“All right. I’ll find out—”
Draco pushed him away. “Why are you still here? I swear, Potter, if they Obliviate her…”
“I’m going!” Harry said, backing away. He spared one last look at Draco’s sober face before hurrying out. Ron trotted after him.
“Want to tell me what that was about, mate?” Ron asked. His voice was sharp.
“Yeah, but not now. I have to stop the Obliviators. Best you stay here, in case I have to do something not-quite-legal.”
Ron glared at him, even though Harry had spoken quietly enough that only he could hear. “That’s not funny.”
“Don’t let anyone touch Draco,” Harry warned. He relented and added, “Please?”
Ron sighed explosively. “Yeah, fine, but you owe me.”
“When do I not?” Harry asked and punched him on the arm. Harry figured he was already in trouble, so rather than waiting for the lift and returning to the Atrium, he Disapparated. The wards stung a bit, and Ron would likely have his head later for tripping the alarms, but Harry didn’t care. He appeared outside of Daisy’s house. The front door was open. Harry took it as a bad sign.
He sprinted up the walk and through the door, stopping short inside the small living room at the sight of Daisy’s grandmother slumped over on the sofa. For the Obliviators’ sake, Harry hoped she was only sleeping.
A sound down the hallway drew his attention and he ran that way, pushing himself faster when he heard Daisy’s frightened voice cry, “Who are you? What do you want?”
“Stop!” Harry yelled as the man lifted his wand and pointed it at Daisy. He wore the muddy olive-coloured robe that signified an Obliviator. “Daisy, it’s me, Harry. It’s all right.”
The Obliviator lowered his wand. “Harry Potter?”
Daisy was holding Garnet tightly to her chest. She wasn’t crying, but she was huddled on her bed, looking terrified. Harry walked carefully past the man and touched Daisy on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. He’s not a bad man. Everything is okay.” Harry glared at the Obliviator, who lifted a hand and scratched at the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable.
“I’m… just following orders,” he said.
Daisy clutched at Harry’s hand. “Is Draco here?” she whispered.
“There has been a misunderstanding,” Harry said to the Obliviator in a voice like iron. He gripped Daisy’s hand and spoke to her in a softer tone. “Draco sent me to make sure the man didn’t frighten you. They are here to make sure Garnet doesn’t leave the house again.”
“Bliviators?” she asked in a stage whisper.
“Yes, but don’t worry. He’s leaving now. Will you be all right if I go with him?”
Her hand tightened, but then she resolutely let go. “I won’t forget about Draco, will I?”
Harry touched the top of her head and forced a chuckle. “No, you won’t forget Draco.” He met the confused stare of the Obliviator. “Would you mind accompanying me outside?”
“Of course not, Mr Potter. Sir.” He coughed and then said, “Sorry, little miss. Didn’t mean to frighten you. Just following orders.”
“It’s okay,” Daisy said quietly. Garnet curled up in her lap, seeming to relax from his earlier, agitated stance.
The man nodded and went out. Harry touched Daisy’s hair one last time and said, “Draco will stop by as soon as he can.”
“Is Gran okay?”
“Yes, of course. She’s resting on the sofa, at the moment.” Harry hoped. “It would probably be best not to mention that we were here, though. Is that okay?”
“Like I shouldn’t mention Garnet?”
“Yes. Just like Garnet.”
“Okay.” Daisy sounded woeful and she held Garnet so tightly if he hadn’t been made of magically reinforced wood he would probably have snapped a wing. Harry ruffled her hair. “Don’t worry; Draco will be here to see you soon.” If Harry could keep them both out of Azkaban.
“Is Draco your boyfriend?”
Harry nearly stumbled when he stood up, startled by the question. “No, but I would like him to be.”
“Me, too. You seem nice.”
“Thank you, Daisy.” He smiled, warmed at her approval. “Goodbye, now.”
He went out, pausing to check on Daisy’s grandmother, who was definitely sleeping. Harry hurried to the door and then cast an Ennervate before closing the door and joining the Obliviator, who lurked near the front gate. Gail would hopefully think she had fallen asleep watching the telly.
“This won’t get me fired, will it, Mr Potter?” the man asked. “I was only following orders.”
Harry shook his head, although he was not certain about anything at this point. “Let’s go back to the Ministry and get this sorted, shall we?” He smiled encouragingly and they both Disapparated.
~~**~~
“You did what?” Kingsley’s voice was thunderous and Harry winced. He glanced at Ron, who stood next to Kingsley’s desk with arms crossed, frowning. By Ron’s body language alone, he was firmly on the side of Kingsley, claiming no culpability over Harry’s transgressions. It didn’t work on Kingsley, however, as he turned to Ron with a glare. “Did you know about this?”
“Me? I don’t know about anything, apparently!” Ron yelped and then narrowed his eyes at Harry, who felt an appropriate flash of guilt at not letting his friends know about the dramatic changes wrought in his life over the past few weeks. It had all seemed so sudden; Harry had wanted to work through it himself before exposing it, even to his best friends.
Kingsley sat down with a thump and fixed Harry with a stare. “You Disapparated through the wards in the Auror Division, setting off large-scale alarms, called an Obliviator off of his assigned duty, with no authority, mind you, and now you are asking me to free Draco Malfoy because you are the one responsible for giving a magical item to a Muggle. Is that the whole of it, or is there more?”
“That’s about it,” Harry replied, deciding not the mention the I might be a little bit in love with Draco Malfoy portion. Ron already suspected there was more to it, judging by his annoyed pout, but Harry saw no need to give him a full-on coronary in the Minister’s office.
Kingsley flipped through the papers on his desk. “Draco Malfoy was arrested this morning after we received testimony from a witch who spotted him in a Muggle marketplace, accompanied by young Daisy Worthington, who is currently in possession of an apparently magical dragon.”
“Did you pull the prior file on Daisy Worthington?” Harry asked in a calm tone.
Kingsley’s head rose. “There is a prior file?”
Harry nodded. “Perhaps you should get it.”
Kingsley scrawled a note, folded it, and sent it winging through the door, which opened only long enough for the memo to escape before slamming shut again. Kingsley sat back in his chair. “That will take a few minutes. Care to elaborate?”
“Daisy’s parents were murdered by Death Eaters. She was blinded by Amycus Carrow at the time. I assume she was Obliviated, or at least partially so, shortly after the incident. Word was sent to the Ministry about the attack, by someone who was there at the time.”
“Draco Malfoy,” Ron guessed. He moved closer to Harry and sat down in the chair next to his, loosening his tense stance for the first time.
Harry nodded. “Draco dared not help her at the time. He was a frightened boy and his mother’s life was on the line. But he’s helping Daisy now. He cares for her, and her family.”
“But they’re Muggles,” Ron said.
Harry gave him a wry smile. “I know. I scarcely believed it myself. But he’s genuine. I followed him for weeks. He’s… changed.”
Ron’s gaze sharpened and Harry looked away, hoping his voice hadn’t betrayed him. He would rather not sound like a lovesick schoolgirl at the moment.
“While seeking absolution might be a worthy goal, Harry, it does not excuse him for giving the girl a magical item.” Kingsley's tone was not unkind, but there was iron beneath his words.
“That was my fault!”
“What sort of magical item?” Ron asked.
“A dragon,” Harry admitted.
“One of your dragons?” Ron burst out laughing.
“This is not a laughing matter, Mr Weasley,” Kingsley admonished.
“No, of course not. I just have to wonder how Draco Malfoy got his hands on one of Harry’s prized dragon toys in order to give it to a Muggle child. This whole story is getting more interesting by the minute.”
“I gave it to him,” Harry said. “To give to Daisy.”
“Damn it, Harry. You know I am bound to arrest you after that confession!” Kingsley snapped.
Harry nodded. “That’s good. It also means Draco goes free, right? And what do I need to do to make sure Daisy is not Obliviated? And that she can keep the dragon?”
“Were you put on this earth to make my life difficult?” Kingsley demanded.
“I was put on this earth to defeat Voldemort,” Harry retorted. It was a low blow, but he figured the reminder couldn’t hurt.
Kingsley leaned back in his chair and dragged a hand over his face. “Some days I really hate this job.”
“Come on, Kingsley, there are other Muggles who know about the wizarding world. Look at Hermione’s parents, or Dean Thomas’s mother. Or all the Muggles married to wizards and witches.”
“Parents and spouses fall under the Special Dispensation Articles, Harry. Random children do not.”
“What about foster children?” Harry knew he was grasping at straws, but he also knew Kingsley would do just about anything to avoid throwing Harry in Azkaban, if only to circumvent the negative press. The Ministry was still struggling to rebuild its credibility after the war, and Harry had done it no favours by leaving the Auror Department.
“The child is not an orphan if she lives with her grandparents.”
Harry shook his head. “Makes no difference. Plenty of foster kids have living relatives. Hell, some still have parents walking around.”
A file popped into existence in the air above Kingsley’s desk and dropped into his Inbox. He reached for it and spent some time flipping through the pages, brow wrinkled in thought. Harry glanced at Ron, who was plucking at the edge of his Auror robe and gnawing on his bottom lip.
“If I have to create a loophole for this, Harry, I am not going to be happy,” Kingsley said.
“I could have Hermione look into it?” Ron suggested. Harry threw him a grateful look. If anyone could find a loophole, it was Hermione. Ron’s expression left no doubt that first Harry would have to cough up some information.
“All right, Harry. You have forty-eight hours to come up with a viable solution or I send in the Oblivators, and this time you’ll be in lockup to make sure you don’t interfere. I’ll have Malfoy released, but he’ll wear a Shackle. If he leaves London, he goes straight to Azkaban. I hold you personally responsible for his behaviour.”
Harry nodded, relieved. It wasn’t much time, but more than he deserved. If not for the fact that he was Harry Potter, he would have been given no chance at all. “Thank you, Kingsley,” he said. “I won’t let you down.”
Kingsley sighed and closed his eyes. “Just go.”
Harry and Ron left together. They were only six steps from the Minister’s closed door when Ron asked, “Malfoy?”
Harry winced. “I’ll tell you and Hermione together,” he said. “And you might want to call Ginny.”
“I’m not going to like this, am I?”
Harry gave him a wry smile. “No, probably not.”
~~**~~
The Aurors were not pleased to see Harry when he returned to the Detention Block. Breaking through departmental wards caused an extremely unpleasant alarm to sound, plus it meant questions, accusations, and ludicrous amounts of paperwork to explain how and why they had been breached. Harry remembered it well from his short stint as an Auror.
“Sorry,” he said, smiling sheepishly at their collective glares.
“Is Malfoy still in there?” Ron asked Auror Wilson, whose lips thinned at the sight of Harry.
“Being released now on orders from the Minister,” he replied, jerking a thumb towards the cell block. “Planning to Apparate out again, Potter?”
“Knock it off, Wilson. He wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been necessary, so shove off. Come on, Harry.”
Harry followed, warmed by Ron’s show of support. Tonight, he decided, he would come clean and reveal his secrets to his best friends. They deserved to know everything.
Draco was just stepping out of the cell when Harry and Ron arrived. Draco threw an anxious look at Harry, who nodded reassuringly. Draco relaxed slightly, visibly relieved. Two Aurors stood on either side of his door, wands ready. Now that Harry was here, he had no idea what to say. His primary need had been to see Draco and let him know that Daisy was fine, which had been accomplished with a single glance. Now Harry simply felt awkward.
The Auror who had opened Draco’s door said, “Follow me, Malfoy. You’ll have a Shackle Charm cast on you to keep you close. You try to leave town and it knocks you out and sends a message to us. Works with Apparition, Floo-travel, Portkey, flying, or just plain walking. Trip the Charm and you’re right back in here, then straight on to Azkaban. Got it?”
“I understand,” Draco said. His eyes met Harry’s again and a long look passed between them.
“I’ll owl you,” Harry said, unwilling to say anything more in front of Ron and two strangers.
“Minister Shacklebolt wants you back here in two days. Don’t make us come get you,” the other Auror warned.
“I understand,” Draco repeated and moved down the corridor after the first Auror gestured him along. He passed Harry without a word or a glance, but then paused before the exit and looked back. “Hey, Potter?” he called.
Harry looked at him questioningly.
“That question you asked me. I finished my calculations and the answer is ‘none’. Do you understand? None.” With that, Draco turned and went out.
Harry’s ecstatic smile thoroughly perplexed Ron, but it remained on his face for a very long time.
~~**~~
It was late when Harry Flooed home. He was exhausted, mostly from the emotional drain of finally admitting everything to Ron and Hermione, chiefly the fact that he was not interested in females and possibly (probably, definitely) was interested in Draco Malfoy. Thankfully, Ginny had arrived to corroborate Harry’s story and managed to deflect much of Ron’s shocked horror.
Harry appreciated her support and admitted to himself that they got on much better as friends than they ever had as a couple.
“I can’t believe you’re okay with this!” Ron had bellowed at her, but Ginny had only shrugged.
“I’ve known something was wrong for ages,” she’d admitted, “I just didn’t know what. Finding out Harry likes blokes was a huge relief, Ron, you have no idea. I thought I wasn’t woman enough for him. It turns out I wasn’t man enough for him.” She had giggled and Harry had kicked her under the table.
Replaying the scene in his mind, he smiled and shook his head,. Hermione had looked shocked for about five minutes and then had immediately turned her attention to Harry’s real problem—avoiding prison. She had dived into a stack of books and filled the tense silence with theories and suggestions. Her personal library was already bigger than the library at Hogwarts, and utilized a broom cupboard she had modified into a magical room of impressive proportion.
Harry began to shuck his clothing and then noticed an owl huddled on his windowsill. The bird tapped at the glass, looking plaintive. Harry hurried over and opened the window, wondering how long it had been waiting.
It hopped inside and then fluttered to the empty owl perch in one corner of the room. Harry kept it stocked with owl treats, mostly for Pigwidgeon, who always acted half-starved whenever he dropped by. Harry assumed it took extra energy to fly around as crazily as Ron’s owl did.
The owl pecked at the food while Harry removed the message from its leg. He opened it carefully and was almost surprised when he recognized Draco’s handwriting, even though he hadn’t seen it since Hogwarts.
Potter Harry,
Thank you for your prompt action in halting Daisy’s Obliviation. I did not expect to be released from custody, so thank you for that as well, temporary though it may be. I am in your debt (again) and would be willing to discuss possible terms of repayment.
Sincerely, Draco
Harry read the note several times. His libido helpfully suggested several ways for Draco to provide “repayment”, but Harry frowned at the thought once his heart-rate returned to normal. He definitely did not want anything from Draco that sprang from a sense of obligation. Harry did not need recompense for doing the right thing.
He bit his lip and then drafted a reply.
Draco,
Actually, I could use your help with something. If you are amenable, please Floo to my house at 8am tomorrow. (Is that too early?)
Harry
After sending the owl on its way, Harry undressed and climbed into bed. He was dozing when the bird returned bearing Draco’s response.
Harry,
Yes, that is obscenely early, but I will be there.
Draco
Smiling, Harry sent the owl away and went to sleep.
~~**~~
The fireplace flared at 8:07, just when Harry was beginning to convince himself that Draco wasn’t coming.
“The eggs are getting cold,” Harry said by way of greeting, which was not remotely what he had planned to say, but the sight of Draco, hair damp from a probable shower, and dressed all in charcoal grey, made Harry’s tongue cleave to the roof of his mouth and his brain unable to process rational thought.
“You cooked breakfast?” Draco asked.
Harry nodded and quickly poured two cups of tea in order to drag his stare away from Draco. “It’s a bit of a bribe, actually.”
He turned round and Draco raised one pale eyebrow questioningly as he took the cup Harry held out. "Oh really? I already told you I am at your service. Why would I need bribing?”
“Because I want you to come to Hermione’s with me,” Harry blurted.
Draco’s face, open and teasing a moment before, closed up instantly. He walked to the table and sat down.
Uncertain once more, Harry bustled around, setting plates and platters on the table. He had tried to remember everything Draco had liked to eat at Hogwarts, and had prepared more food than either of them could possibly eat.
“Granger hates me,” Draco said finally.
“She doesn’t hate you!” Harry replied as he sat down across from Draco and reached for the jam. Draco’s sardonic look dragged a smile from Harry and he spread jam on his toast and admitted, “Okay, she might hate you a little.”
“I saw Weasley almost faint yesterday when we were in the Ministry cell block. Does he know about your…?” Draco made a vague gesture with his fork before spearing a sausage and placing it on his plate.
“Yeah, I told them yesterday. Ginny was with me, so that made it easier. She is almost ridiculously amused by this. I still have a hard time wrapping my mind round that, I have to admit.”
“She’s amused? I would have expected a more dramatic reaction from her, such as tears and lethal hexes. Mostly hexes.”
Harry laughed. “Me, too, but she’s been ridiculously supportive. Ron couldn’t even drum up a decent argument that she couldn’t counter. I barely had to say anything.”
“And you want me to go to Granger’s even though you admitted she still hates me… why?” Draco took a bite of sausage, but his attention was on Harry.
“Um… it’s like this.” Harry explained the situation with Kingsley and his request for a legal reason not to throw them into Azkaban, adding, “If we don’t come up with something, Daisy will be Obliviated and my hands will be tied. Quite possibly literally.” He interspersed his story with bites of food. Draco ate while listening intently.
“And Granger is willing to help?”
Harry nodded and washed down a bite of toast with a gulp of tea. “She already had books laid out last night before I left. She probably has them all cross-referenced by now.”
“And why do you require my assistance?”
Harry grinned at him. “Because I wanted to see you.” To his surprise, Draco’s cheeks went pink and he looked away. “And because I think you can help.”
“Well, then. We should get on with it, I suppose. And thank you for breakfast. It was delicious. You would make a fine house-elf.”
Harry gave him a two-fingered salute and Draco chuckled. The gorgeous sound of it seemed to ripple up and down Harry’s spine and he quickly got up to spell away the dishes to cover his probably-smitten expression.
Draco helped, and within minutes the kitchen was set to rights. Harry was surprised how comfortable he was with Draco’s presence and how oddly relaxing it felt to perform simple domestic chores while making random small-talk about the ridiculous pattern on the dishes Harry had inherited with the house.
Harry had just spelled the last plate into the cupboard and turned round when he found himself trapped in Draco’s arms. Harry’s heart rate picked up a pace, and then doubled again when Draco leaned in and kissed him.
The kiss was long, slow, and thorough, harkening back to the time they had spent on Draco’s sofa. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and hauled him closer, unwilling to let him slip away again.
“No experimenting?” Harry asked breathlessly after a few minutes.
“Forget what I said before,” Draco growled. His teeth bit into the side of Harry’s neck in a gesture that felt more playful than serious. Harry nearly moaned aloud at the sensation.
“But... I was making a list,” Harry protested.
Draco pulled back with a glare. “Who was on it?”
Harry leaned in for another kiss, but Draco turned his lips aside. His fingers dug almost-painfully into Harry’s hipbones. “Besides you?”
Draco nodded curtly.
“Well, no one. But if I keep looking at Quidditch magazines, I’m bound to find—”
Draco growled and kissed him again; Harry’s laugh was muffled in Draco’s mouth. Despite the lovely feeling stealing over him with each flick of Draco’s tongue, Harry was finding it difficult not to keep laughing. He felt stupidly, ridiculously happy.
And then Draco shifted and Harry’s humour melted away, warping into something hotter and more intense, charged with energy that centred in the hardness pressing against his groin, mirroring his own suddenly-aching erection.
The kissing was wonderful, blissful, but there was so much more that beckoned, tantalisingly within reach. Or, almost within reach. Harry broke the kiss. “Hermione. I told her we would…” Harry’s groan tore from his throat when Draco ground his hips forward, sending shockwaves of pleasure through Harry’s entire frame. “…by nine o’clock,” he finished on a gasp.
“That’s twelve hours away,” Draco murmured, suckling on Harry’s neck and pushing him against the cabinet so tightly that Harry feared he meant to shove Harry atop it and take his pleasure like the heroes in those ridiculous books Ginny liked to read. The thought was unexpectedly erotic and he re-evaluated his scorn.
Draco’s words finally penetrated the fog of Harry’s lust-filled mind. “Hours…?” His eyes snapped open and he brought his palm down upon Draco’s buttock in a sharp spank. “Not nine o’clock p.m.!” he said with a laugh. “Come on, prat.”
Draco sighed heavily, but relented and stepped away from Harry. His hair looked dishevelled; even though Harry didn’t remember running his fingers through it, he must have. Draco's lips were red and a bit swollen.
“You look debauched,” Harry said and tried to cook up a plausible excuse to avoid going to Hermione’s in order to stay and debauch Draco even more. Harry’s cock twitched in agreement.
“You’re right,” Draco agreed in a purring tone. “We can’t go anywhere looking like this. Let’s stay in.” He took a step forwards, hand reaching out for Harry, who avoided his grasp.
“No! As much as I want to—and, bloody hell, do I want to—we have to keep ourselves out of Azkaban first.” As he spoke, Harry walked quickly to the table and then around it, deftly putting the large piece of furniture between himself and Draco. “Business before, um… pleasure.”
Draco’s eyes glowed with silver fire and for a heart-stopping instant Harry thought he meant to continue the pursuit. The idea left Harry torn between alarm and anticipation. Hermione would kill him, but it would be so, so worth it…
And then Draco seemed to gather himself and return to his usual, cool personae. “Very well. Let’s be off to Granger’s and see if she can save our arses.” Draco pulled out his wand and cast a spell that fluffed his hair before it settled into its usual perfect style. Harry frowned, doubting any spell would ever be able to do the same for his hair. Draco seemed to read his thoughts. “Never mind, you always look just-shagged, Potter. It’s part of your appeal.”
Harry blinked at him. “It is?”
Draco only smirked and gestured at the fireplace. Harry shook off his bemusement, picked up a handful of Floo Powder, and took them to see Hermione.
TBC OF COURSE, CAN'T END IT TOO SOON, YOU KNOW. OR APPARENTLY EVER. *sigh*
~~~~
Harry spent most of the next morning in his workshop, adding some finishing touches to a blue dragon he was making. He also attempted to scratch out a jingle for a wizarding landscaping company, but Draco’s amused horror over Harry’s previous attempts kept derailing his efforts. In fact, Harry found his thoughts wandering to Draco far too frequently, bringing a silly grin to his face and halting his hands mid-function.
He considered sending an owl message to Draco, but wasn’t quite sure what to say. He hoped the thought of Harry experimenting with other people had not pleased Draco, although he admitted to himself that making such a Slytherinesque pronouncement had been risky.
It was entirely possible that Draco wouldn’t care. The thought sent Harry out of his chair several times. He would take a few steps towards the Floo before he caught himself and returned to his work. The gamble would be wasted if he could not even let the idea stew for a bit.
Shortly after midday, the flutter of owl wings outside the window made Harry’s heart leap into his throat, but he let out a breath when he recognized the white and golden feathers of Ginny’s barn owl, Crumpet. He got up to open the window, trying not to ache with disappointment.
Ginny’s note made his blood run cold.
DM has been arrested. I thought you should know. ~G
Harry raced for the Floo.
~~**~~
He stormed through the Ministry Atrium, ignoring the whispers and gawking stares. He nodded curtly to those who waved at him or called out a greeting as he made his way straight to the reception desk. He slapped his wand on the counter.
“I need to know where Draco Malfoy has been taken.”
The receptionist did not seem surprised. She cast a spell or two on the large book in front of her and then replied, “Draco Malfoy is currently detained in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Level Two.”
“I know where it is,” Harry said and turned away, snatching up his wand as he went.
“Don’t forget your badge, Mr Potter,” she called.
He paused and then went back and took the badge, glancing at it curiously as he entered the lift. It read Harry Potter, Personal Mission. He shook his head and stuffed it into his jeans pocket before pressing the button for Level Two.
Three young women in one corner of the lift whispered together and giggled, but they said nothing to him while he waited, although one called, “Goodbye, Mr Potter!” when he exited. He lifted a hand absently as the door closed and then walked briskly to the Detention block. As luck would have it, he ran into Ron Weasley.
“Harry! What are you doing here, mate? Come to rescue me from paperwork?”
“Where is Draco Malfoy?” Harry asked. “He’s been arrested.”
Ron’s brow wrinkled. “Malfoy is here?” At Harry’s nod, Ron nodded to a nearby Auror. “Hey, Wilson! Where did they take Draco Malfoy?”
“Cell Nine, I think.” The Auror jerked a thumb towards a nearby doorway.
Harry started that way and Ron trotted after him. “What did Malfoy do now?” Ron asked.
“I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Harry strode down the rows of cells, bypassing a startled Auror seated at the guard station. Ron’s wave settled the Auror before he could detain Harry. Cell 5, 7… 9. Harry vaguely wondered how Ginny had known about Draco’s arrest before Ron, but saved that question for another time.
Draco’s silver-blond head rose when Harry reached the bars of his cell and he leaped to his feet. Draco practically flung himself at the bars and grabbed Harry by the forearms. Beside him, Harry saw Ron pull out his wand reflexively.
“Potter! Harry.” Draco’s eyes were pleading and his voice was low and distressed. “They are going for Daisy. Don’t let them Obliviate her! It was my fault. I’ll take whatever punishment is coming to me. Throw me into Azkaban, if necessary, but don’t let them…” His voice broke.
Harry reached through the bars and wrapped his arms around Draco, pulling him close despite the cold metal between them. He sensed more than heard Ron’s intake of breath.
“Was it Garnet?”
“I don’t know, but it must have been. They arrested me for breaking the International Statute of Secrecy, but no one has spoken to me since they threw me in here.”
“All right. I’ll find out—”
Draco pushed him away. “Why are you still here? I swear, Potter, if they Obliviate her…”
“I’m going!” Harry said, backing away. He spared one last look at Draco’s sober face before hurrying out. Ron trotted after him.
“Want to tell me what that was about, mate?” Ron asked. His voice was sharp.
“Yeah, but not now. I have to stop the Obliviators. Best you stay here, in case I have to do something not-quite-legal.”
Ron glared at him, even though Harry had spoken quietly enough that only he could hear. “That’s not funny.”
“Don’t let anyone touch Draco,” Harry warned. He relented and added, “Please?”
Ron sighed explosively. “Yeah, fine, but you owe me.”
“When do I not?” Harry asked and punched him on the arm. Harry figured he was already in trouble, so rather than waiting for the lift and returning to the Atrium, he Disapparated. The wards stung a bit, and Ron would likely have his head later for tripping the alarms, but Harry didn’t care. He appeared outside of Daisy’s house. The front door was open. Harry took it as a bad sign.
He sprinted up the walk and through the door, stopping short inside the small living room at the sight of Daisy’s grandmother slumped over on the sofa. For the Obliviators’ sake, Harry hoped she was only sleeping.
A sound down the hallway drew his attention and he ran that way, pushing himself faster when he heard Daisy’s frightened voice cry, “Who are you? What do you want?”
“Stop!” Harry yelled as the man lifted his wand and pointed it at Daisy. He wore the muddy olive-coloured robe that signified an Obliviator. “Daisy, it’s me, Harry. It’s all right.”
The Obliviator lowered his wand. “Harry Potter?”
Daisy was holding Garnet tightly to her chest. She wasn’t crying, but she was huddled on her bed, looking terrified. Harry walked carefully past the man and touched Daisy on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. He’s not a bad man. Everything is okay.” Harry glared at the Obliviator, who lifted a hand and scratched at the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable.
“I’m… just following orders,” he said.
Daisy clutched at Harry’s hand. “Is Draco here?” she whispered.
“There has been a misunderstanding,” Harry said to the Obliviator in a voice like iron. He gripped Daisy’s hand and spoke to her in a softer tone. “Draco sent me to make sure the man didn’t frighten you. They are here to make sure Garnet doesn’t leave the house again.”
“Bliviators?” she asked in a stage whisper.
“Yes, but don’t worry. He’s leaving now. Will you be all right if I go with him?”
Her hand tightened, but then she resolutely let go. “I won’t forget about Draco, will I?”
Harry touched the top of her head and forced a chuckle. “No, you won’t forget Draco.” He met the confused stare of the Obliviator. “Would you mind accompanying me outside?”
“Of course not, Mr Potter. Sir.” He coughed and then said, “Sorry, little miss. Didn’t mean to frighten you. Just following orders.”
“It’s okay,” Daisy said quietly. Garnet curled up in her lap, seeming to relax from his earlier, agitated stance.
The man nodded and went out. Harry touched Daisy’s hair one last time and said, “Draco will stop by as soon as he can.”
“Is Gran okay?”
“Yes, of course. She’s resting on the sofa, at the moment.” Harry hoped. “It would probably be best not to mention that we were here, though. Is that okay?”
“Like I shouldn’t mention Garnet?”
“Yes. Just like Garnet.”
“Okay.” Daisy sounded woeful and she held Garnet so tightly if he hadn’t been made of magically reinforced wood he would probably have snapped a wing. Harry ruffled her hair. “Don’t worry; Draco will be here to see you soon.” If Harry could keep them both out of Azkaban.
“Is Draco your boyfriend?”
Harry nearly stumbled when he stood up, startled by the question. “No, but I would like him to be.”
“Me, too. You seem nice.”
“Thank you, Daisy.” He smiled, warmed at her approval. “Goodbye, now.”
He went out, pausing to check on Daisy’s grandmother, who was definitely sleeping. Harry hurried to the door and then cast an Ennervate before closing the door and joining the Obliviator, who lurked near the front gate. Gail would hopefully think she had fallen asleep watching the telly.
“This won’t get me fired, will it, Mr Potter?” the man asked. “I was only following orders.”
Harry shook his head, although he was not certain about anything at this point. “Let’s go back to the Ministry and get this sorted, shall we?” He smiled encouragingly and they both Disapparated.
~~**~~
“You did what?” Kingsley’s voice was thunderous and Harry winced. He glanced at Ron, who stood next to Kingsley’s desk with arms crossed, frowning. By Ron’s body language alone, he was firmly on the side of Kingsley, claiming no culpability over Harry’s transgressions. It didn’t work on Kingsley, however, as he turned to Ron with a glare. “Did you know about this?”
“Me? I don’t know about anything, apparently!” Ron yelped and then narrowed his eyes at Harry, who felt an appropriate flash of guilt at not letting his friends know about the dramatic changes wrought in his life over the past few weeks. It had all seemed so sudden; Harry had wanted to work through it himself before exposing it, even to his best friends.
Kingsley sat down with a thump and fixed Harry with a stare. “You Disapparated through the wards in the Auror Division, setting off large-scale alarms, called an Obliviator off of his assigned duty, with no authority, mind you, and now you are asking me to free Draco Malfoy because you are the one responsible for giving a magical item to a Muggle. Is that the whole of it, or is there more?”
“That’s about it,” Harry replied, deciding not the mention the I might be a little bit in love with Draco Malfoy portion. Ron already suspected there was more to it, judging by his annoyed pout, but Harry saw no need to give him a full-on coronary in the Minister’s office.
Kingsley flipped through the papers on his desk. “Draco Malfoy was arrested this morning after we received testimony from a witch who spotted him in a Muggle marketplace, accompanied by young Daisy Worthington, who is currently in possession of an apparently magical dragon.”
“Did you pull the prior file on Daisy Worthington?” Harry asked in a calm tone.
Kingsley’s head rose. “There is a prior file?”
Harry nodded. “Perhaps you should get it.”
Kingsley scrawled a note, folded it, and sent it winging through the door, which opened only long enough for the memo to escape before slamming shut again. Kingsley sat back in his chair. “That will take a few minutes. Care to elaborate?”
“Daisy’s parents were murdered by Death Eaters. She was blinded by Amycus Carrow at the time. I assume she was Obliviated, or at least partially so, shortly after the incident. Word was sent to the Ministry about the attack, by someone who was there at the time.”
“Draco Malfoy,” Ron guessed. He moved closer to Harry and sat down in the chair next to his, loosening his tense stance for the first time.
Harry nodded. “Draco dared not help her at the time. He was a frightened boy and his mother’s life was on the line. But he’s helping Daisy now. He cares for her, and her family.”
“But they’re Muggles,” Ron said.
Harry gave him a wry smile. “I know. I scarcely believed it myself. But he’s genuine. I followed him for weeks. He’s… changed.”
Ron’s gaze sharpened and Harry looked away, hoping his voice hadn’t betrayed him. He would rather not sound like a lovesick schoolgirl at the moment.
“While seeking absolution might be a worthy goal, Harry, it does not excuse him for giving the girl a magical item.” Kingsley's tone was not unkind, but there was iron beneath his words.
“That was my fault!”
“What sort of magical item?” Ron asked.
“A dragon,” Harry admitted.
“One of your dragons?” Ron burst out laughing.
“This is not a laughing matter, Mr Weasley,” Kingsley admonished.
“No, of course not. I just have to wonder how Draco Malfoy got his hands on one of Harry’s prized dragon toys in order to give it to a Muggle child. This whole story is getting more interesting by the minute.”
“I gave it to him,” Harry said. “To give to Daisy.”
“Damn it, Harry. You know I am bound to arrest you after that confession!” Kingsley snapped.
Harry nodded. “That’s good. It also means Draco goes free, right? And what do I need to do to make sure Daisy is not Obliviated? And that she can keep the dragon?”
“Were you put on this earth to make my life difficult?” Kingsley demanded.
“I was put on this earth to defeat Voldemort,” Harry retorted. It was a low blow, but he figured the reminder couldn’t hurt.
Kingsley leaned back in his chair and dragged a hand over his face. “Some days I really hate this job.”
“Come on, Kingsley, there are other Muggles who know about the wizarding world. Look at Hermione’s parents, or Dean Thomas’s mother. Or all the Muggles married to wizards and witches.”
“Parents and spouses fall under the Special Dispensation Articles, Harry. Random children do not.”
“What about foster children?” Harry knew he was grasping at straws, but he also knew Kingsley would do just about anything to avoid throwing Harry in Azkaban, if only to circumvent the negative press. The Ministry was still struggling to rebuild its credibility after the war, and Harry had done it no favours by leaving the Auror Department.
“The child is not an orphan if she lives with her grandparents.”
Harry shook his head. “Makes no difference. Plenty of foster kids have living relatives. Hell, some still have parents walking around.”
A file popped into existence in the air above Kingsley’s desk and dropped into his Inbox. He reached for it and spent some time flipping through the pages, brow wrinkled in thought. Harry glanced at Ron, who was plucking at the edge of his Auror robe and gnawing on his bottom lip.
“If I have to create a loophole for this, Harry, I am not going to be happy,” Kingsley said.
“I could have Hermione look into it?” Ron suggested. Harry threw him a grateful look. If anyone could find a loophole, it was Hermione. Ron’s expression left no doubt that first Harry would have to cough up some information.
“All right, Harry. You have forty-eight hours to come up with a viable solution or I send in the Oblivators, and this time you’ll be in lockup to make sure you don’t interfere. I’ll have Malfoy released, but he’ll wear a Shackle. If he leaves London, he goes straight to Azkaban. I hold you personally responsible for his behaviour.”
Harry nodded, relieved. It wasn’t much time, but more than he deserved. If not for the fact that he was Harry Potter, he would have been given no chance at all. “Thank you, Kingsley,” he said. “I won’t let you down.”
Kingsley sighed and closed his eyes. “Just go.”
Harry and Ron left together. They were only six steps from the Minister’s closed door when Ron asked, “Malfoy?”
Harry winced. “I’ll tell you and Hermione together,” he said. “And you might want to call Ginny.”
“I’m not going to like this, am I?”
Harry gave him a wry smile. “No, probably not.”
~~**~~
The Aurors were not pleased to see Harry when he returned to the Detention Block. Breaking through departmental wards caused an extremely unpleasant alarm to sound, plus it meant questions, accusations, and ludicrous amounts of paperwork to explain how and why they had been breached. Harry remembered it well from his short stint as an Auror.
“Sorry,” he said, smiling sheepishly at their collective glares.
“Is Malfoy still in there?” Ron asked Auror Wilson, whose lips thinned at the sight of Harry.
“Being released now on orders from the Minister,” he replied, jerking a thumb towards the cell block. “Planning to Apparate out again, Potter?”
“Knock it off, Wilson. He wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been necessary, so shove off. Come on, Harry.”
Harry followed, warmed by Ron’s show of support. Tonight, he decided, he would come clean and reveal his secrets to his best friends. They deserved to know everything.
Draco was just stepping out of the cell when Harry and Ron arrived. Draco threw an anxious look at Harry, who nodded reassuringly. Draco relaxed slightly, visibly relieved. Two Aurors stood on either side of his door, wands ready. Now that Harry was here, he had no idea what to say. His primary need had been to see Draco and let him know that Daisy was fine, which had been accomplished with a single glance. Now Harry simply felt awkward.
The Auror who had opened Draco’s door said, “Follow me, Malfoy. You’ll have a Shackle Charm cast on you to keep you close. You try to leave town and it knocks you out and sends a message to us. Works with Apparition, Floo-travel, Portkey, flying, or just plain walking. Trip the Charm and you’re right back in here, then straight on to Azkaban. Got it?”
“I understand,” Draco said. His eyes met Harry’s again and a long look passed between them.
“I’ll owl you,” Harry said, unwilling to say anything more in front of Ron and two strangers.
“Minister Shacklebolt wants you back here in two days. Don’t make us come get you,” the other Auror warned.
“I understand,” Draco repeated and moved down the corridor after the first Auror gestured him along. He passed Harry without a word or a glance, but then paused before the exit and looked back. “Hey, Potter?” he called.
Harry looked at him questioningly.
“That question you asked me. I finished my calculations and the answer is ‘none’. Do you understand? None.” With that, Draco turned and went out.
Harry’s ecstatic smile thoroughly perplexed Ron, but it remained on his face for a very long time.
~~**~~
It was late when Harry Flooed home. He was exhausted, mostly from the emotional drain of finally admitting everything to Ron and Hermione, chiefly the fact that he was not interested in females and possibly (probably, definitely) was interested in Draco Malfoy. Thankfully, Ginny had arrived to corroborate Harry’s story and managed to deflect much of Ron’s shocked horror.
Harry appreciated her support and admitted to himself that they got on much better as friends than they ever had as a couple.
“I can’t believe you’re okay with this!” Ron had bellowed at her, but Ginny had only shrugged.
“I’ve known something was wrong for ages,” she’d admitted, “I just didn’t know what. Finding out Harry likes blokes was a huge relief, Ron, you have no idea. I thought I wasn’t woman enough for him. It turns out I wasn’t man enough for him.” She had giggled and Harry had kicked her under the table.
Replaying the scene in his mind, he smiled and shook his head,. Hermione had looked shocked for about five minutes and then had immediately turned her attention to Harry’s real problem—avoiding prison. She had dived into a stack of books and filled the tense silence with theories and suggestions. Her personal library was already bigger than the library at Hogwarts, and utilized a broom cupboard she had modified into a magical room of impressive proportion.
Harry began to shuck his clothing and then noticed an owl huddled on his windowsill. The bird tapped at the glass, looking plaintive. Harry hurried over and opened the window, wondering how long it had been waiting.
It hopped inside and then fluttered to the empty owl perch in one corner of the room. Harry kept it stocked with owl treats, mostly for Pigwidgeon, who always acted half-starved whenever he dropped by. Harry assumed it took extra energy to fly around as crazily as Ron’s owl did.
The owl pecked at the food while Harry removed the message from its leg. He opened it carefully and was almost surprised when he recognized Draco’s handwriting, even though he hadn’t seen it since Hogwarts.
Thank you for your prompt action in halting Daisy’s Obliviation. I did not expect to be released from custody, so thank you for that as well, temporary though it may be. I am in your debt (again) and would be willing to discuss possible terms of repayment.
Sincerely, Draco
Harry read the note several times. His libido helpfully suggested several ways for Draco to provide “repayment”, but Harry frowned at the thought once his heart-rate returned to normal. He definitely did not want anything from Draco that sprang from a sense of obligation. Harry did not need recompense for doing the right thing.
He bit his lip and then drafted a reply.
Draco,
Actually, I could use your help with something. If you are amenable, please Floo to my house at 8am tomorrow. (Is that too early?)
Harry
After sending the owl on its way, Harry undressed and climbed into bed. He was dozing when the bird returned bearing Draco’s response.
Harry,
Yes, that is obscenely early, but I will be there.
Draco
Smiling, Harry sent the owl away and went to sleep.
~~**~~
The fireplace flared at 8:07, just when Harry was beginning to convince himself that Draco wasn’t coming.
“The eggs are getting cold,” Harry said by way of greeting, which was not remotely what he had planned to say, but the sight of Draco, hair damp from a probable shower, and dressed all in charcoal grey, made Harry’s tongue cleave to the roof of his mouth and his brain unable to process rational thought.
“You cooked breakfast?” Draco asked.
Harry nodded and quickly poured two cups of tea in order to drag his stare away from Draco. “It’s a bit of a bribe, actually.”
He turned round and Draco raised one pale eyebrow questioningly as he took the cup Harry held out. "Oh really? I already told you I am at your service. Why would I need bribing?”
“Because I want you to come to Hermione’s with me,” Harry blurted.
Draco’s face, open and teasing a moment before, closed up instantly. He walked to the table and sat down.
Uncertain once more, Harry bustled around, setting plates and platters on the table. He had tried to remember everything Draco had liked to eat at Hogwarts, and had prepared more food than either of them could possibly eat.
“Granger hates me,” Draco said finally.
“She doesn’t hate you!” Harry replied as he sat down across from Draco and reached for the jam. Draco’s sardonic look dragged a smile from Harry and he spread jam on his toast and admitted, “Okay, she might hate you a little.”
“I saw Weasley almost faint yesterday when we were in the Ministry cell block. Does he know about your…?” Draco made a vague gesture with his fork before spearing a sausage and placing it on his plate.
“Yeah, I told them yesterday. Ginny was with me, so that made it easier. She is almost ridiculously amused by this. I still have a hard time wrapping my mind round that, I have to admit.”
“She’s amused? I would have expected a more dramatic reaction from her, such as tears and lethal hexes. Mostly hexes.”
Harry laughed. “Me, too, but she’s been ridiculously supportive. Ron couldn’t even drum up a decent argument that she couldn’t counter. I barely had to say anything.”
“And you want me to go to Granger’s even though you admitted she still hates me… why?” Draco took a bite of sausage, but his attention was on Harry.
“Um… it’s like this.” Harry explained the situation with Kingsley and his request for a legal reason not to throw them into Azkaban, adding, “If we don’t come up with something, Daisy will be Obliviated and my hands will be tied. Quite possibly literally.” He interspersed his story with bites of food. Draco ate while listening intently.
“And Granger is willing to help?”
Harry nodded and washed down a bite of toast with a gulp of tea. “She already had books laid out last night before I left. She probably has them all cross-referenced by now.”
“And why do you require my assistance?”
Harry grinned at him. “Because I wanted to see you.” To his surprise, Draco’s cheeks went pink and he looked away. “And because I think you can help.”
“Well, then. We should get on with it, I suppose. And thank you for breakfast. It was delicious. You would make a fine house-elf.”
Harry gave him a two-fingered salute and Draco chuckled. The gorgeous sound of it seemed to ripple up and down Harry’s spine and he quickly got up to spell away the dishes to cover his probably-smitten expression.
Draco helped, and within minutes the kitchen was set to rights. Harry was surprised how comfortable he was with Draco’s presence and how oddly relaxing it felt to perform simple domestic chores while making random small-talk about the ridiculous pattern on the dishes Harry had inherited with the house.
Harry had just spelled the last plate into the cupboard and turned round when he found himself trapped in Draco’s arms. Harry’s heart rate picked up a pace, and then doubled again when Draco leaned in and kissed him.
The kiss was long, slow, and thorough, harkening back to the time they had spent on Draco’s sofa. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and hauled him closer, unwilling to let him slip away again.
“No experimenting?” Harry asked breathlessly after a few minutes.
“Forget what I said before,” Draco growled. His teeth bit into the side of Harry’s neck in a gesture that felt more playful than serious. Harry nearly moaned aloud at the sensation.
“But... I was making a list,” Harry protested.
Draco pulled back with a glare. “Who was on it?”
Harry leaned in for another kiss, but Draco turned his lips aside. His fingers dug almost-painfully into Harry’s hipbones. “Besides you?”
Draco nodded curtly.
“Well, no one. But if I keep looking at Quidditch magazines, I’m bound to find—”
Draco growled and kissed him again; Harry’s laugh was muffled in Draco’s mouth. Despite the lovely feeling stealing over him with each flick of Draco’s tongue, Harry was finding it difficult not to keep laughing. He felt stupidly, ridiculously happy.
And then Draco shifted and Harry’s humour melted away, warping into something hotter and more intense, charged with energy that centred in the hardness pressing against his groin, mirroring his own suddenly-aching erection.
The kissing was wonderful, blissful, but there was so much more that beckoned, tantalisingly within reach. Or, almost within reach. Harry broke the kiss. “Hermione. I told her we would…” Harry’s groan tore from his throat when Draco ground his hips forward, sending shockwaves of pleasure through Harry’s entire frame. “…by nine o’clock,” he finished on a gasp.
“That’s twelve hours away,” Draco murmured, suckling on Harry’s neck and pushing him against the cabinet so tightly that Harry feared he meant to shove Harry atop it and take his pleasure like the heroes in those ridiculous books Ginny liked to read. The thought was unexpectedly erotic and he re-evaluated his scorn.
Draco’s words finally penetrated the fog of Harry’s lust-filled mind. “Hours…?” His eyes snapped open and he brought his palm down upon Draco’s buttock in a sharp spank. “Not nine o’clock p.m.!” he said with a laugh. “Come on, prat.”
Draco sighed heavily, but relented and stepped away from Harry. His hair looked dishevelled; even though Harry didn’t remember running his fingers through it, he must have. Draco's lips were red and a bit swollen.
“You look debauched,” Harry said and tried to cook up a plausible excuse to avoid going to Hermione’s in order to stay and debauch Draco even more. Harry’s cock twitched in agreement.
“You’re right,” Draco agreed in a purring tone. “We can’t go anywhere looking like this. Let’s stay in.” He took a step forwards, hand reaching out for Harry, who avoided his grasp.
“No! As much as I want to—and, bloody hell, do I want to—we have to keep ourselves out of Azkaban first.” As he spoke, Harry walked quickly to the table and then around it, deftly putting the large piece of furniture between himself and Draco. “Business before, um… pleasure.”
Draco’s eyes glowed with silver fire and for a heart-stopping instant Harry thought he meant to continue the pursuit. The idea left Harry torn between alarm and anticipation. Hermione would kill him, but it would be so, so worth it…
And then Draco seemed to gather himself and return to his usual, cool personae. “Very well. Let’s be off to Granger’s and see if she can save our arses.” Draco pulled out his wand and cast a spell that fluffed his hair before it settled into its usual perfect style. Harry frowned, doubting any spell would ever be able to do the same for his hair. Draco seemed to read his thoughts. “Never mind, you always look just-shagged, Potter. It’s part of your appeal.”
Harry blinked at him. “It is?”
Draco only smirked and gestured at the fireplace. Harry shook off his bemusement, picked up a handful of Floo Powder, and took them to see Hermione.
TBC OF COURSE, CAN'T END IT TOO SOON, YOU KNOW. OR APPARENTLY EVER. *sigh*