Title: Compatibility (Part 2 of 2)
"Harry Potter, how nice to see you. You’re the very first to arrive. Draco’s not even finished preening yet." Blaise Zabini led Harry from the Floo and into the kitchen. Eyeing Harry up and down without even trying to hide it, he continued, "All that Auror training has certainly been good for you. What can I get you to drink?"
Harry laughed. "Well, you’re certainly chattier than I remember, Zabini. I’ll have some nettle wine if you’ve got any."
"We do indeed. And please, call me Blaise. We’re not in school anymore. There’s no need for putting up fronts these days, is there?" He flashed a dazzling smile.
"In that case feel free to call me Harry." He still wasn’t sure what to make of Blaise, but he was pretty sure he was harmless. Or at least mostly.
After pouring Harry’s wine and fixing himself a Firewhiskey and water, he ushered Harry to the sitting room. Why do I get the distinct feeling that he’s staring at my arse right now? Harry turned his head to see if he was right, and couldn’t help smirking at his companion when he saw where Zabini's eyes were focused. "Enjoying the view?"
Zabini looked startled for the briefest of moments, but then smiled again. "Caught me in the act, Harry. Sorry, but as I said before, Auror training agrees with you. You’ve grown quite fit."
Draco chose that very moment to make his entrance. "Blaise, are you trying to scare my partner off already? Sorry, Harry. Blaise has no couth."
"I do so. Besides, Harry doesn’t mind. He knew I was looking. I saw him flex his arse muscles to ensure I saw exactly how much physical training your Auror classes include."
Harry just laughed and shook his head. Mostly harmless. And definitely likeable.
"So, since you’re our only party guest so far, and this is my first time meeting you since you’ve become so deeply entwined in my dear friend Draco’s life, I feel it’s my duty to put you through the third degree. Are you up for it?"
"Sure." Harry agreed. "As long as I can do the same in return."
Blaise’s eyes lit up with delight. "Oh, it’s not hard to tell you two have been spending a lot of time together. That was a very Draco-esque response."
Harry smirked and leaned forward. "Are you going to continue babbling, or will you eventually ask me a question?"
Draco sniggered, and Blaise grinned, his eyes glinting mischievously.
"Oh, you think you can handle it, do you? Alright, Harry, question number one: how long have you known that you’d rather shag blokes than birds?"
Fuck. Harry had not been expecting Blaise’s questions to be quite so bold, or so on the mark. He couldn’t think up an appropriate answer and just sat there like a deer in the headlamps. He glanced over at Draco, who looked even more shocked and incapable of speech than he was. Zabini looked like the cat who got the cream.
"Er…" He was still at a loss. Taking a deep breath, he began, "Er, how did you know that?" Oh smooth, Harry, really smooth.
"What?" Draco had found his voice again. "Did you just say what I think you said?"
Harry gulped his entire glass of nettle wine in one go and handed the empty glass to Zabini. "If you want me to answer this question I think I’m going to need something stronger."
Zabini jumped up and headed directly for the kitchen. "Certainly. Firewhiskey?"
"Make it a double. Or better still, a triple."
When Zabini returned with Harry’s drink, he took two healthy sized mouthfuls before he could even think of what to say. "You’re right, of course, Blaise, as you obviously knew you would be."
Zabini nudged Draco and said, "See, Draco, I told you those inklings you had weren’t wrong. Your sixth sense is as keen as ever. Don’t look so frightened, Harry. Draco plays for your team too, and I tend to play for whichever side suits my fancy at the moment. You’re among family here."
Harry turned to look at Draco. "You? I completely missed that one, and all this time we’ve trained together, yet I didn’t have a clue. Wow, Ollie was right, I really need to hone my gaydar."
Blaise perked up Harry’s last sentence. "Ollie? As in Oliver? As in Wood?"
"Yeah. We’re friends. We had a thing for a while."
"Can’t say I disagree with your taste in men, Harry. Oliver Wood is hot. So you two are like Draco and I used to be. Friends with benefits?"
"Not anymore. It’s all in the past now. Do you two still? I’m sorry, that’s incredibly rude and certainly not my business." Harry could feel the deep blush colouring his features.
Zabini smiled. "Oh, please, Harry. I’m on my third Firewhiskey. You can’t possibly think I’m worried about propriety right now."
"As if you ever are," Malfoy piped in. "I’ll answer your question, Harry. Blaise and I are most definitely not still shagging. I put an end to it about two years ago, and his ego is still smarting from it."
"I’ll have you know that my ego has recovered quite nicely, thanks. It is a rather large and hearty one, after all. Anyway, Harry, back to my question. How long have you known?"
"It’s been a while now. But not until after the war was over. I had fully expected to get back together with Ginny as soon as the war ended. Thoughts of Ginny kept me going when Ron, Hermione and I were hiding out all that time. But then, after the end, I just wasn’t inclined to be with her. It didn’t take her long to figure out that I was avoiding her. Ginny’s a smart girl."
"Not to mention, smoking hot," interrupted Blaise. "Again, I don’t disagree with your taste."
Harry raised an eyebrow in Zabini’s direction as if to ask "do you want me to continue or not? "
Zabini shut his mouth and nodded at Harry to continue.
"Anyway," Harry continued, "She was kinder to me than I was to her. She cut me loose and told me to find whatever will make me happy. By then I was knee-deep in the Hogwarts reparations, so I planned to just focus on that, but er, I dunno, there was someone there, and he… er, I guess he kind of distracted me to a point where I could no longer deny the truth." Do not look at Draco right now.
"During the Hogwarts reparations? So that wouldn’t have been Wood, since he was busy with Quidditch."
"You should join the Wizengamot. They could use interrogators as direct and on the ball as you. No, it wasn’t Oliver. It was someone else." Harry admitted. "I guess I just figured it out one day. I mean, it’s pretty hard to convince yourself that you’re straight when you get hard just looking at someone. Particularly when that someone happens to be the same gender." Do NOT look at Draco right now.
Blaise appeared to be on the verge of asking Harry another question, so he interrupted him. It was time to get out of the hot seat. "I’d say I’ve now earned my chance to ask you questions, Blaise."
"I second that motion," added Draco with glee.
Blaise gestured for Harry to go ahead.
"Back in sixth year I overheard someone tease you about thinking Ginny was hot and you said that she was nothing but a blood-traitor. Was that just posturing, or do you really think that way?"
Zabini was obviously surprised by Harry’s question, but answered it anyway. "A bit of both, I think. It was definitely posturing. Most of my time at Hogwarts involved posturing of some sort. But it also fit with my views at the time. Or at least somewhat. I wasn’t as adamant about blood purity as some people." At this he looked pointedly at Draco, who had the decency to look abashed. "But prior to the war, I also never bothered with anyone who wasn’t at the very least a half-blood. My mother wasn’t a supporter of the Dark Lord, or anything. Nor would my father have been, had he not met an untimely end while I was just a toddler, but they both firmly believed in the importance of blood."
"And now?" asked Harry.
"And now, I have nothing against Muggle-borns, or even Muggles, for the most part. Unlike Draco, I took it upon myself to learn more about the people I had shunned all my life, and I found out that for the most part, Muggles are just like Wizards. Decent human beings. And they’re very innovative. The things they’ve invented to get around their lack of magical ability amazes me. Their technology has, in some ways, put them ahead of us. Telephones, computers, television. Brilliant things. But they’re still biologically inferior to us. Take away their technology and they’re totally fucked."
"Take away our wands and so are we."
"Not true, Harry, not true."
"Oh no," groaned Draco. "You’ve opened up a can of worms now, Harry. I need a drink. Refill?"
"Please." Turning back to Blaise he asked, "What do you mean not true? If you were to take a Muggle and a Wizard, strip them both of everything they possess except clothes, and dumped them in a desert somewhere, they’d both be on equal footing."
"No. We’d adapt. We’d develop wandless magic."
"Yes, really. Think about it, Harry. How many times did you perform accidental magic as a child? Don’t you think that would surface if you were in a survival situation? Of course it would. You’d learn to perform the magic you need without your wand. I’m sure of it." Blaise looked like he was just building up a good head of steam when the fireplace flared and some guests arrived, cutting their discussion short.
Later, Draco told Harry that fate had smiled on him by sending Daphne Greengrass and her sister to Draco’s flat that night. "Once Blaise gets going with his theories about how we should deprive ourselves so that we can evolve, it’s nearly impossible to shut him up. I’m tempted to Silencio him sometimes." Draco shook his head. "Anyway, are you having a good time?"
"Yes I am." Harry smiled. "If someone had told me a few years ago that I’d be standing here today in Draco Malfoy’s flat, at a party where Slytherins were chatting and having a good time with Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, I’d have told them there was a bed available next to Lockhart’s at St Mungo’s."
Draco returned the smile in earnest. "You and me both. Sometimes change is a good thing, isn’t it?"
Harry nodded his agreement. I wonder if you’d consider it a good change if I were to throw you on the floor and fuck you until we both couldn’t speak anymore. Oh Merlin, I have to stop having these thoughts about my partner. "I’m going to go get another drink. Excuse me."
For the rest of the night, whenever Harry entertained less than wholesome thoughts about Draco, he fixed himself another drink. Unfortunately, the more he drank, the more frequent these thoughts would arise. Harry was standing on his own trying to determine whether he still had enough hand-eye coordination to pour his next drink without spilling it when he felt warm breath on the side of his neck.
"Question number two," Blaise whispered in his ear. "How many Galleons should I bet that the bloke who set your little gay flame alight was none other than my dear friend Draco Malfoy?"
Harry blanched. His stomach felt like an enormous weight had just dropped within it.
Triumph flashed in Blaise’s eyes as he turned Harry to face him. "Answer: every Galleon I own. Don’t worry, Harry, your secret’s safe with me. He is rather easy on the eyes, isn’t he?"
Not having any clue how to react to Blaise’s discovery, Harry did the only thing he could think of. He thrust his arm around Blaise’s neck, pulled him in and kissed him. Hard, demanding, and surprisingly enjoyable. Several minutes later, when Blaise pulled back for a moment, Harry realized that they were providing some rather unexpected entertainment for the party guests and sputtered, "Oh fuck. I gotta go," then Apparated home.
"What on earth were you thinking?! You could have splinched yourself! Apparating when you were that drunk! Have you completely lost your mind?"
Harry groaned and clutched his pounding head. "Hermione, please. Not now. Not so loud. Hangover potion, please."
Glaring at her friend, Hermione handed over the potion. "It’s a good thing Ron stocked up in preparation for Dean’s big poker night next week. George said you snogged Zabini. What was that all about?"
Downing the potion in one gulp, Harry shook his head and winced. The potion had lessened the pain, but didn’t completely restore him to full functionality. "I don’t know what it was all about. He said something that hit too close to home and I panicked. Next thing I know, my tongue is down his throat."
"What did he say?"
"I don’t want to talk about it."
"Drop it, Hermione," warned Harry.
"Fine," she huffed. "So, are you going to see him again?"
"NO! Ouch!" He winced again. "I’m not interested in Blaise."
"Well, according to George and Angelina, you certainly looked interested. And he apparently was pretty enthusiastic as well. Although his flatmate is not quite so pleased with the situation. George said that after you took off, Malfoy grabbed Zabini and dragged him into one of the bedrooms. I guess Malfoy was giving him hell for hooking up with his partner. George tried to listen in with his extendables, but the door was warded."
For the second time in less than twelve hours, Harry had that awful, heavy sensation in the pit of his stomach. Draco saw. And he’s not impressed. Oh fuck. "I gotta go. Thanks for the potion, Hermione."
Harry was relieved to have the weekend to recuperate before having to face Draco after his rather public scene with Zabini and his sudden departure from their party. What worried him the most was what Draco and Blaise talked about behind closed doors after Harry left. What if Blaise told Draco what he’d discovered about Harry? Would they be able to continue working together after such a revelation?
When Monday came, Harry’s good morning greeting to Draco was met with a barely audible grunt and an icy glare. Their morning class saw them once again duelling against the senior Aurors. With such a physically and mentally demanding task, their chances for conversation were non-existent, so Harry didn’t speak to Draco until the lunch break.
Harry had to run to catch up to Draco as he headed to the cafeteria. He waited until they were both seated before broaching the topic of Friday night. "So, er, I, er, forgot to say goodnight to you on Friday before I left." Really, Harry is that the best you could come up with?!
"Yeah, I guess you were too distracted by your little tonsil Quidditch session with my flatmate to even think to say goodnight to your partner. So, am I to expect to be awakened in the middle of the night by the sounds of you moaning and screaming out Blaise’s name in the next room from now on?"
Oh fuck, he thinks I have a thing going with Blaise now. Well, could be worse, I guess, at least that means Blaise didn’t tell him anything.
"Should I take your lack of response as a yes, then?"
"What? Oh, sorry Draco, I was, er, I was just surprised by your question. And no, I have no intention of shagging Zabini."
"Sure didn’t look like it on Friday night. I thought you were going to devour each other whole. So if you’re not interested in shagging Blaise, what was that all about?"
"I can’t tell you."
"What do you mean, you can’t tell me? If there’s something going on between my partner and my flatmate, I think I deserve to know."
"Nothing’s going on, I promise you. Blaise just… he just asked me another one of his really personal questions." Harry couldn’t stop himself from blushing at the memory of it.
"Okay, so he asked you a personal question, and somehow that led to the two of you snogging?"
"Well, I was really drunk, you see. And he caught me off guard. I mean I was just standing there, and all of a sudden, Blaise was whispering another question in my ear. One that was even more personal than his first one. And, well, I couldn’t answer him. But the look on my face told him everything he needed to know. He just smirked at me, and I knew he knew, and I was terrified he’d do something crazy like announce it to everyone at the party. I panicked."
"Yes. I panicked, and I just… I was drunk, Draco, I wasn’t really thinking right. I just panicked and did the first thing I could think of to distract him."
"What on earth did he ask you that made you panic?"
"I can’t say. Please don’t ask again, and please don’t try to get Blaise to tell you. It’s incredibly personal and if you have any respect whatsoever for our working relationship, you’ll honour my request."
Draco looked surprised but nodded in agreement. "Okay, I promise I won’t try to find out what he asked."
Draco looked thoughtful for a few moments and then began sniggering.
"What? What are you laughing at?"
"Well, I was just playing over the whole scene in my mind. And here’s what I came up with. Blaise asked you a personal question that you didn’t want to answer. He figured out the truth anyway, you felt like you were backed into a corner and panicked, so you snogged him as a distraction. Is that correct?"
Confusion was setting in. "Yes, I know it sounds a bit stupid, but I don’t think it’s particularly funny."
"Well, it just got me wondering." Draco’s snigger had grown into full fledged laughter by this point.
Not being in on Draco’s joke only made Harry more annoyed. "Wondering what, Draco?"
Clearly trying to stifle his laughter, Draco replied, "Well, I was wondering if you were going to use that tactic when you’re put in a difficult spot in the field. Will you snog our suspects to distract them too?" No longer able to suppress his laughter, Draco collapsed into a fit of giggles. Draco’s mirth was contagious and before he knew it, Harry was giggling too. The rest of the trainees were staring, but Harry didn’t care. He was just relieved that Draco didn’t know what Blaise knew.
"Well Harry, looks like we’re on Quidditch security duty again. Not exactly the glamour and excitement I had hoped for when signing up to be an Auror, but at least we get to see the games for free."
"Yeah, it is cool to have free range all over the stadium. But to be completely frank, I’ve been hoping we’d get a real assignment some time soon." Harry sighed wistfully.
"Tell me about it." Draco groaned, "Six months on the job and the most exciting case we’ve had was trying to track down the schoolboys who stole the Nimbus from the display case at Quality Quidditch Supplies. We were two of the best in our class. You’d think we’d get something more challenging thrown our way. I had thought, at the very least that they’d let us work the Lestrange case, seeing as the tip came from one of my contacts."
"I know! I’m still pissed off about that. I understand that we’re still new and may not be ready to take the lead on a case like that, but the least they could have done was to let us work with the senior Aurors on it. This is ridiculous. I’m going to have a talk with Kingsley."
Harry’s conversation with Kingsley had gotten him nowhere. It was still another couple of months before they were assigned to anything more challenging than petty crime and security detail. What he really wanted to was to be part of the team that searched for the Death Eaters that had managed to escape capture after the Battle of Hogwarts.
He still felt extremely guilty over the deaths of people like Fred, Tonks, Remus and Colin Creevy. Maybe once all the people who were involved with Voldemort were captured, Harry could begin to forgive himself for not defeating Voldemort sooner. Ron, Hermione, and George had all tried to convince him that he did as much as he could, but there was always that nagging doubt inside him.
Harry and Draco finally got their wish when two members of the team tracking Rabastan Lestrange were injured during a failed capture attempt. Robards called them into his office one Friday afternoon and told them that Auror Bixby was now heading up the team, and had personally requested Harry and Draco. They were ordered to report to him on Monday morning at eight a.m. sharp.
The two young Aurors were elated, and Harry felt a celebration was in order. "This in an occasion that calls for a trip to the Black family wine cellar. Care to join me at Grimmauld Place for one last indulgence before we settle in to work on Monday?"
"Do I?! The Black family wine cellar is legendary. Father was thoroughly annoyed that he never got his hands on that stash. Let’s go now!"
As they enjoyed a couple of very nice bottles of Bordeaux, Harry and Draco discussed their upcoming assignment and their reasons for joining the Aurors. By the time they neared the end of the second bottle, they had moved on from the superficial: "I thought it would be exciting," to the more honest: "I felt I had to make amends somehow."
"But what have you to make amends for, Harry? You saved the world."
"Not soon enough," sighed Harry "Look at how much damage he inflicted before I was finally able to defeat him. So many people died."
"Two-thousand, seven-hundred and forty-three, if you include Muggles and count only those from his second reign of terror."
Harry was incredulous. "You know how many? To the exact number?!"
A pink tinge formed high on Draco’s cheekbones. "Er, yeah. I’ve been checking the Ministry records. They have a list of victims and I made a copy of it. They place the number at twenty-seven-forty-two, but I’ve included Crabbe on my list. I know he tried to kill you, and I know he supported the Dark Lord, but he was just a kid, really. Crabbe may have technically been of age, but mentally, he was still thirteen. It doesn’t excuse what he did, but I still consider him a victim of the war."
Still shocked that Draco kept count, Harry didn’t have the heart to disagree with his friend. "So, why exactly do you have this list?"
"I’m sure it comes as no surprise that I feel guilty. What if I’d listened to Snape in sixth year? Would Dumbledore still be alive? Would he have been able to help you defeat the Dark Lord before things got so bad? The blood of each of those people is on my hands, Harry. That’s why I’m an Auror. That’s why I’m so glad we’re finally on the Lestrange case."
"Draco, Dumbledore would have died no matter what. Snape made an unbreakable vow with your mum."
"Yes, and it was my stupidity in accepting the assignment that led him to have to make that vow in the first place."
"Yes, of course. Because you could have very easily said no to Voldemort. He was a perfectly reasonable guy, after all. Had you said, 'No thanks, I’d rather not kill my headmaster,' he would simply have patted you on the head and told you that he understood."
Draco seemed about to talk, but then shut his mouth.
"It wasn’t your fault, Draco. You had no choice. You’re not responsible for their deaths."
"Oh, and you are? You said it yourself, Harry. You’re trying to make amends for not defeating him sooner. How can you tell me it’s not my fault and that I shouldn’t feel guilty when you’re absolutely riddled with it yourself?"
Harry gave Draco a sheepish smile. "Hmmm, yeah, I know. Bit of a double standard, that. I guess if I feel guilty, you have every right to do so as well. But I must say, keeping a list of his victims is a bit morbid, even for you. I mean, what do you do with that list? Torture yourself by reading it over and over again?"
Draco chuckled. "No, I’m not that much of a masochist. I didn’t just copy the list for no reason. I’m…" He blushed a deep red. "Potter if you tell anyone about this, I’ll tie you up and deliver you to those acromantula that live in the Forbidden Forest."
"I won’t tell a soul, I promise."
"Fine. I’ve commissioned a memorial, which I’ve donated anonymously to the Ministry so it can be displayed in the atrium. They need to put something there since the Dark Lord had the fountain destroyed and erected that horrid Magic is Might statue. I thought it might be nice to pay tribute to the Dark Lord’s victims."
"Oh yeah. I’ve seen the sign for that! You mean you’re the anonymous benefactor?! Wow, I didn’t know."
"Nobody does, Harry. Not even Shacklebolt. That’s the whole idea behind it being anonymous."
"Wait a minute. It also says on the sign that this benefactor has created trust funds for all the children who were left orphaned by the war. That’s you too?"
"Well," Draco’s blush deepened, "I’ve got to do something good with my father’s ill-gotten gains, don’t I? Look, Harry, you’re not the only person who feels they need to make amends, alright? I just thought that these kids need to have a chance at a decent life. And as for the memorial, well, maybe if people see it every time they’re at the Ministry, it will remind them of what has happened, and what can happen again if we’re not careful."
Harry was reminded of Moody and his famous catch phrase. Constant vigilance. Perhaps it was all the red wine, but his emotions suddenly overcame him and he felt hot tears flowing freely from his eyes.
After a few moments, he felt, rather than saw Draco move to sit next to him on the sofa. Warmth engulfed him as Draco took Harry in his arms and provided a shoulder to cry on. This, of course, only made Harry cry harder. Draco smoothed Harry’s hair and made soft comforting sounds.
Several minutes later, Harry began to feel embarrassed for his overly emotional display. He felt too weak to pull himself away from Draco, but wiped his tears and apologized for being an idiot.
"Shhh. You’re not an idiot, Harry. There’s nothing wrong with crying over what you’ve been through. I suspect this is something you haven’t allowed yourself to do very much, if at all."
Looking up at Draco’s face he asked, "You don’t think I’m a big wimp for crying like this?"
"Of course not." Draco’s own eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Nothing wrong getting in touch with your inner-Hufflepuff every once in a while. Hell, I’m so scarred by this war that I’m helping orphans and erecting a memorial to the dead. How much more Hufflepuffish can you get than that?" Draco smirked.
"They’re not wimps, you know. Hufflepuffs, I mean."
"I know. But my Slytherin side won’t allow me to come out and say that aloud." The smile he flashed to Harry caused his stomach to jolt.
All Harry could think at that moment was how much he wanted to kiss Draco. He stared up at his partner, whose expression had suddenly turned serious. The distance between their faces was short enough that all he would have to do is lean forward just a bit and their lips would touch. No, Harry, that is not what you want to do right now. Move away before temptation gets the better of you. He and Draco pulled themselves away from each other almost simultaneously, then Draco stood to leave.
"Wow, I’ve had way too much wine. And I think so have you. I’d better head home now. We’ve got a big day on Monday." He looked as if he were about to Apparate, and then thought better of it. "Best to take the Floo at this point. Don’t want to splinch myself."
He was already half-way down the corridor to the basement stairs by the time Harry had collected himself enough to stand up. "Er, hold on, let me show you –"
"You don’t have to show me out, Harry. I’ve been here dozens of times now. I know the way, no need for formalities. See you on Monday." With that, Draco disappeared down the stairs.
By Monday morning, Harry was too focussed on their new assignment to feel awkward about the abruptness of Draco’s departure on Friday night, or the thoughts he had preceding it. Draco seemed to be thinking along the same lines, as he greeted Harry cheerfully and immediately began discussing their new assignment.
Although Lestrange had escaped the Aurors’ first attempt at capture, they were still able to keep track of where he had gone. Harry and Draco were one of the teams assigned to stake-out duty. Being rookies meant they were stuck with the overnight shift, since it was the least desirable one.
It was nearly four a.m. on a cool, clear Saturday night, their fifth night in a row of stake-out duty, when they finally saw Lestrange leaving his heavily warded hideout in Muggle London. They had Disillusioned themselves and were sitting on the steps of the building across the street when he exited the run-down block of flats.
Their orders were to wait for Lestrange to Apparate, and then trace the magical signature to find his new location, then contact Bixby who would give them further orders. Unfortunately, Lestrange threw a wrench in their plans by not Apparating. Instead, he began walking down the street toward the industrial complex at the end of the road.
Harry and Draco followed, not wanting to lose their target, and unable to notify the others without alerting Lestrange of their presence. As Lestrange neared the door to one of the warehouses, the two Aurors picked up their pace. They both knew that if he went inside and they didn’t follow they might lose him. This meant getting close enough that they could enter the door before Lestrange closed it behind him. Harry wished he could just Apparate inside the building, but not knowing what lay within made that a much riskier option.
As they side-stepped through the doorway, Harry felt the familiar tingle of passing through wards. He was just about to nudge Draco to see if he noticed when he heard laughter coming from behind him. Every hair on Harry’s body stood on end, and he felt his partner tense up as well.
"Rabastan, it appears you’ve brought some guests to our little gathering. Who have we got here?"
Harry realised a fraction of a moment too late that the wards they passed through had nullified their Disillusionment charm, much like the waterfalls in Gringotts did. As powerful arms caught him from behind, he saw Lestrange grab Draco, and then a figure in dark robes stepped in front of him. Rodolphus Lestrange.
"Oh, if it isn’t Harry Potter, saviour of the Wizarding world. And Lucius’ boy, Draco Malfoy. My favourite little turncoat. Hello Draco. You remember my brother Rabastan, of course. And behind your partner stands my dear friend Fenrir. I believe you’ve met."
Draco blanched, abject terror filling his eyes.
"Yes, I know young Malfoy well. Although not as well as I’d like." Greyback’s harsh voice, and the implied message behind his words made Harry’s skin crawl.
"Not to worry, my friend. You’ll get your chance. I’ll even give you a crack at Potter if you behave. But first let’s make sure there aren’t others behind them. Bind these two and then –"
Harry acted quickly. He still had his wand in his hand, and took the opportunity to cast Expelliarmus on Rodolphus Lestrange. The sudden movement caused Greyback to loosen his hold on Harry long enough for him to squirm away. He hit Greyback with the first curse he could think of that was damaging enough to have an effect on the werewolf, Sectumsempra. The werewolf howled in pain and fell to the floor. Harry was just about to throw a hex at Rabastan Lestrange to free Draco when Greyback, still spouting blood from the wounds to his face and chest, pounced on him.
Harry’s head hit the concrete floor with a sickening crack. He felt woozy and could taste blood in his mouth from having bitten his tongue on impact. Greyback attacked Harry ruthlessly. He felt himself being lifted and thrown up against a wall. He heard the snapping of several bones and saw Greyback approaching again just as the world went black.
Harry felt the cold hard floor beneath him, and a soft warmth at his side. He tried to sit up, but the excruciating pain that shot through his entire body as he did so, stopped him in his tracks.
The warm softness beside him spoke. "Don’t move, you’ve broken about half the bones in your body."
"Draco! Thank Merlin! What happened? Are you okay?"
"I’m fine, Harry. After you passed out, they decided it would be best to just take our wands and lock us up for a while. I think Lestrange didn't want Greyback to tear you apart before he had his chance to do whatever it is he’s got planned for you."
"Help me sit up, please. This floor is freezing."
Draco gingerly slid his hands behind Harry’s back and lifted him up, taking extra care not to disturb any of Harry’s many injuries. It still hurt like hell, but Harry couldn’t think while lying on the floor.
From an upright position, he was able to get a better view of the room they were being kept in. Its appearance indicated that they were likely still in the same warehouse they had entered earlier that night. The room was empty, save for the two of them. The ceiling was criss-crossed with steel girders, and the only source of light in the room was a short but wide window along the wall behind them. The ray of sun shining through the window was strong enough to light up the room completely on the opposite side.
"Draco, there’s a window up there. If we can get it opened, we can escape."
"Already on that, my friend. I checked it while you were getting your beauty rest. The window isn’t locked and although you can’t really tell from this angle, it’s already opened enough for us each to fit through in Animagus form."
"Ah, you are brilliant. Let's go then!" Harry closed his eyes and focused his thoughts on transforming. When he didn’t feel the familiar tingle, he opened his eyes to see that Draco had already transformed and was waiting for him to do the same. He tried once more. Again he failed. "I can’t, Draco, I must be too badly injured. You’ll have to go alone."
"And leave you here? Fuck, Harry, that’s the last thing I want to do. You know that if they come back while I’m gone they’re going to take it out on you. They’ll probably kill you on the spot so they can make a quick escape before I return with backup."
"They might not, they might just take me with them. Regardless, Draco, we have no other choice and you know it, so just go already, you’re wasting time."
"I know. I know. Fuck. Alright, I’m going. Just, try to stay true to your nickname, okay, Boy-Who-Lived?" Draco reached his hand up to Harry’s face, leaned forward slowly and placed his lips on Harry’s. The kiss was brief, but filled with the promise of more to come. As Draco pulled away, he winked, and before Harry could find his voice, Draco’s body seemed to dissolve into itself and in his place stood a light brown kestrel.
Harry watched him fly out through the window and hoped that it wasn’t his last glimpse of Draco Malfoy.
As he waited for Draco to return, Harry drifted off again, but was awakened by a commotion coming from the adjacent room. He could hear people shouting, objects crashing, and one loud, long howl of pain. Shortly afterward, the door to his room opened and Draco rushed to his side.
"Harry! Oh thank Merlin you’re still alive!"
"Draco! How long have you been gone?"
"Not very long. An hour and half, maybe. Bixby’s a tactical genius. As soon as I told him where this place was, he sent two men on a reconnaissance mission to suss out the wards. Shortly after the rest of the team was assembled for the pre-mission briefing, they had returned and the plan was put into place. Once we got here, there was just the matter of disabling the wards and then we were able to enter without being detected. It was incredible. Fuck I love being an Auror. Come on, I’ll take you to St Mungo’s now.’ He reached down to pick Harry up, but Harry stopped him.
"Hold on. Tell me what happened, first."
"They didn’t notice us entering the warehouse. The two Lestranges were hovering over Greyback, still working on his injuries."
"That explains why they haven’t bothered with me yet."
"Hmm. Most likely," agreed Draco. "So, they were caught totally unawares, and we got them. All three. Both Lestranges are on their way to Azkaban, and Greyback is dead."
"Yeah, well not having fully recovered from your Sectumsempra, he wasn’t able to endure it a second time."
"You cast Sectumsempra on him? Why? I mean, I’m not upset that you did, but why not just send him to Azkaban with the others? Was there a struggle?" Harry was shocked.
"Yes, even after having lost so much blood and being in such a weakened state, he still had one more attack left in him. He lunged toward me and I just reacted on instinct." Draco bit his lip and continued. "This may sound bad, Harry, but I’m kind of relieved that he’s dead. He terrorized me the whole time he was at the Manor, and then today, the way he attacked you…" He shook his head as if to dislodge the image. "He’s not human. Azkaban is too good for that fucker."
Harry had to admit that he agreed with Draco.
"Okay, so now you know all the details, please let me take you to a healer, you desperately need medical attention." He reached under Harry, lifted him up enough so he could turn on the spot and Apparated them both to St Mungo’s.
Harry’s hospital stay was a blessedly short couple of days, and Draco stayed with him the whole time, only leaving his side to allow Harry some private time with Ron and Hermione.
Harry decided that he should tell his friends about his feelings for Draco. He knew Draco well enough to realise what the kiss they shared meant. It was an acknowledgement that they had made the decision to move beyond friendship, and this was something Harry didn’t want to keep to himself.
Hermione and Ron took it surprisingly well. Hermione said that she only wanted to see Harry happy and that he should do whatever it took to make himself so. Ron said that he didn’t understand what exactly Harry saw in ferret-boy, but that he’d try to make nice for Harry’s sake.
Shortly after their visit ended, Harry’s Healer returned with the good news that Harry was well enough to go home. Draco had summoned Kreacher, who collected some clothes so Harry wouldn’t have to wear his dirty, blood-stained Auror robes home from the hospital.
When they arrived at Grimmauld Place, Kreacher had dinner ready and waiting for them. The fettuccine primavera was delicious, but all Harry could think about was how incredibly sexy Draco looked eating it.
After dinner, they retired to the sitting room, and Harry’s nerves began to kick in. He was trying to decide whether he should make the first move or wait for Draco to do something when his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Draco asking a question. "Sorry, what did you say?"
"I asked you how you’re feeling."
"Oh. Well, I’m feeling pretty good." Harry thought for a moment then added, "I think I’ll be ready to go back to work tomorrow."
Draco looked sceptical, "Really?"
Draco still did not seemed convinced, so Harry decided to prove it the best way he could think of. Without any warning, he sprung from his chair and pounced on top of Draco, pinning him to the sofa. Draco gasped in surprise, but didn’t have time to react further before Harry’s mouth was on his.
This kiss was nothing like the one they shared in the warehouse. As much as their first kiss was gentle and reassuring, this one was forceful and demanding. Draco responded immediately. He opened his mouth to grant passage to Harry’s tongue, and grasped a fistful of Harry’s hair in his hand.
The heat of Draco’s response radiated from the top of Harry’s head to the tip of his toes. He sighed as he felt Draco shift beneath him, allowing for greater contact between their bodies. Harry explored the depths of Draco’s mouth with his tongue, then pulled back to plant kisses on his chin, his jaw line, his neck.
Draco’s sighs made Harry’s knees go weak, and all he could think was how much he wanted to hear them again. He nibbled on his neck and was rewarded almost instantly. Then he began to make his way down toward Draco’s chest, unfastening his robes as he did so.
When Harry had Draco’s robes completely undone, he slid them off his shoulders without lifting his head even a fraction of an inch. He continued to nibble and lick along Draco’s collar bone, down the centre of his chest and then over toward Draco’s nipple.
He paused for a moment to look up at Draco, whose closed eyes and slack jaw told Harry exactly how much his partner was enjoying the moment. Without taking his eyes off Draco’s face, Harry flicked his tongue out at Draco’s nipple and was rewarded by an audible gasp. Again his tongue darted out and struck the small dark bud that stood erect on Draco’s chest.
Harry brushed his tongue against it again, then clamped down with his teeth. Gently at first, and then with increasing pressure when Draco responded with an, "Oh fuck, yes."
Harry continued to work on Draco’s nipple for several moments. Licking, sucking and biting in turns while his hand roamed freely along Draco’s ribcage. Every time Draco tightened his grasp of Harry's hair, and every reaction that passed over Draco’s face made Harry shiver with delight.
Eventually, Harry resumed his journey down Draco’s body with his mouth. He trailed his tongue across Draco’s abdomen, and dipped it into his navel, causing Draco to surge his hips upward, urging Harry onward. As he reached the boundary created by Draco’s pants, Harry halted his exploration and looked up at his partner as if requesting permission to continue.
In answer to Harry's question, Draco reached down, slipped his thumb beneath elastic band of his pants and began to shove them downward. Harry batted his hand away and slowly pulled them the rest of the way down, stopping to nip and lick Draco's thigh along the way.
Finally free from the confines of clothes, Draco's cock twitched, as if anticipating the attention that Harry was about to lavish upon it. It was absolutely beautiful. Roughly the same length as Harry’s but wider. Harry smiled. Some men liked length, but Harry preferred girth and Draco certainly delivered.
Unable to deny such a beautiful thing the attention it so clearly craved, Harry bent forward and licked Draco’s cock from base to tip in one firm, sure stroke. Draco quivered.
He wrapped his hand around it, and held it aloft while he teased the tip with his tongue. Draco whimpered.
Licking his lips, Harry took the head into his mouth and immediately applied suction. Draco moaned. The sound sent shock waves directly to Harry’s own cock.
"Please, Harry, more."
Harry continued to suck and lick along the head of Draco’s cock with great enthusiasm, causing him to squirm and shiver. Draco was twisting and yanking Harry's hair in a painful vice-like grip, and Harry could not think of anything he had ever enjoyed more.
Eventually, after much pleading from Draco, he slid his mouth down the shaft, slowly inching toward its base. When he had taken in as much as he could without discomfort, Harry began to make humming sounds in his throat as he moved his mouth back up the shaft, and then slid down towards the base once more. After a while, Draco let out a yelp, shuddered, and came. Harry felt a surge of delight as the warm, thick fluid coated the back of his mouth and slid down his throat.
The two men rested for a few moments, then Draco pulled Harry up for a searing kiss. He allowed Draco to unbutton and remove his robes, but when he tried to switch positions with him, Harry balked.
"Oh no, Mr Malfoy, I’m not done with you yet. That was just my way of proving that I’m fully recovered. You rescued me from the big bad Death Eaters, and I haven’t thanked you properly yet." He slid his hand behind Draco’s shoulder and pulled it forward. "Turn around."
Draco complied, and Harry sat straddling his thighs. He massaged Draco’s shoulders and back, and then lowered his head to lick a trail down his spine, from top to base while gently dragging his fingernails along either side, across his shoulder blades, over his ribs, and along the small of his back.
Harry pressed his cock against Draco’s thigh. "Can you feel how hard you make me, Draco?"
Draco moaned in acknowledgement.
Harry moved his body further down Draco’s thighs, as his hands slid down over enticingly round arse cheeks, and along delightfully toned thighs. He gently pushed them apart and upward, then sat back to admire the view. "You’re fucking gorgeous. I always knew you would be."
He dragged his fingernails up and down the length of Draco’s thigh, listening as Draco murmured with pleasure. Finally he placed his hands on Draco’s arse cheeks and began kneading them, gently at first, and then with increasing vigour.
"It was you, you know." Harry stopped kneading and slid his hands out of the way so he could lean down and nip at one of Draco’s cheeks. "You’re the one who first made me realise exactly why women didn’t satisfy me." Another nibble, followed by a gentle lick to soothe the sting. "That’s what Blaise figured out." Harry slid his thumbs into the crevice of Draco’s arse and eased the cheeks apart. He stopped for a moment, prolonging the anticipation, then swept the flat of his tongue along Draco’s puckered opening. He was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath by his utterly stunning partner.
"I’m pretty sure you’d already figured out that you were the one. Before tonight, I mean." Another sweep of his tongue.
Draco gasped and nodded, apparently incapable of speech.
"Of course you did, smart boy," Harry trailed the tip of his tongue around the opening. "So, you’ll understand why this has to take a while." Harry darted his tongue into the middle of the opening, not yet adding any pressure. "Why I have to savour." Lick. "Every." Lick. "Moment." He plunged his tongue forward with enough force to finally breach Draco’s opening.
Draco uttered a long, low moan that was so incredibly erotic it caused Harry own cock to twitch in need. Harry gasped. The heat of his breath as he did so only made Draco moan louder. Harry forced his tongue deeper inside Draco. He pulled it back slowly, and then thrust it back in again, delighting in the feeling of fucking Draco with his tongue.
He had to hold Draco still as he squirmed and gasped and arched himself backward, begging Harry to delve deeper. Rather than comply, Harry pulled his tongue out and began nibbling on Draco’s arse cheeks, basking in the sound of Draco whimpering at the loss.
He continued to nip at Draco a while longer, and then trailed his tongue back along the crevice of Draco’s arse, enjoying his musky scent and revelling in the quivers that ran through his partner’s body. He swept his tongue across Draco in long, slow strokes, teasing the hole each time he passed it.
Sensing his partner’s need for more, he positioned his mouth over Draco’s opening and sucked gently while darting his tongue out to flick at his entrance. He did it again, this time pressing his tongue in a bit further. He kept this up for a while, each time adding more force and spearing Draco further with his tongue.
Draco was positively writhing. "Please, Harry. Now." He gasped.
As much as he enjoyed teasing Draco, Harry didn’t want to torture him, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out himself. His own cock was extremely hard and starting to become uncomfortable.
He stuck his fingers into his mouth to slick them up and replaced his tongue with first one digit and then a second. Draco’s reaction as Harry massaged his prostate sent jolts of excitement though every cell in Harry’s body and he knew that he could wait no longer.
Harry removed his fingers from Draco and was met with a groan. "Shh." He murmured soothing noises to Draco while he reached for his wand and whispered a lubricating charm.
Harry lined up the head of his cock to Draco’s hole and pressed forward. His entire body sang as he felt the hot tight heat surrounding the tip of his cock. Unable to exert any more control, and unwilling to stop his partner from thrusting back to take on more of Harry, he lunged forward until he was fully sheathed within Draco's gorgeous, tight arse.
Harry didn’t last very long. He knew he wouldn’t, given how incredibly aroused he was when he started, but Draco did not seem to mind in the slightest. When Harry collapsed onto Draco, fully spent, the pair spent a few moments shifting into a comfortable position and fell asleep.
Harry awoke to find himself wedged between the seat and the back of the sofa, with an armful of his beautiful blond partner. I could definitely get used to this. Well, maybe not the part where I’m wedged into the sofa and in serious need of a Chiropractor after sleeping in such an awkward position. Do they even have Chiropractors in the Wizarding world? Well whatever the equivalent is, that’s what I’ll need if I don’t move soon.
"Harry," Draco inquired, rousing him from his thoughts.
"My back’s fucking killing me. Do you think we could relocate to your bedroom?"
Harry smiled. Bixby’s right. We are very well suited to each other.