Savin' Me (Chapter II)
Title: Savin' Me (Chapter I)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Morag MacDougal/Draco Malfoy, Marcus Flint/OFC
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Smex
Notes: Morag gets captured and sent to Azkaban, where she starts to go mad thanks to helpful Azkaban medics. And yes I realise prisons don't work like this.
Draco glared at her as he lit the fire, threw in a handful of powder, and stuck his head in, calling out Marcella's address in France.
Marcella didn't look up from her paper she was writing as her Floo activated, accustomed to being bothered on her all too rare days off. "I don't handle cases on my days off."
"You will for Morag," Draco said firmly, "If I have to come all the way through and drag you back here with me. They're killing her."
Marcella jumped slightly at the mention of her cousin and looked up in surprise. "Draco." She said, a little suspicious, but smiling at the protectiveness in his tone. "The last I heard Little Mora was in Azkaban...? Surely they have Healers...?" She paused, considering this. "And how do I know your really Draco or really in my fireplace for Mora?"
"She is in Azkaban," Draco said tiredly. "She said the medics took away her dark, and she's gone round the bend, didn't even recognise me at first. She said..." He paused, trying to remember what Morag had told him. "Buaidh No Bas?" He asked, as if unsure that was what she was asking him for, and winced at his accent.
Marcella blinked, summoning her bag and adding a few things. "Took her dark?" Marcella repeated. "What does that mean?" She stopped in disbelief, staring at Draco. "She didn't recognise you?" By the time he actually managed to say the MacDougal family motto she was already adding things she needed for treating that half of her family.
"It was a Gaelic word," Draco replied, relieved. "They thought she was under a curse, and they drained her of the dark magic...she said it made Niall sick."
"Sacre merde." Marcella cursed, stopping stock still for a moment and then summoning a few more things. "Have you ever seen Mora do dark magic? She absorbs it--the MacDougal line has its name because they're bred for it. Niall didn't want to be associated with dark magic at all and tried to drain it from himself--damn near killed himself that way." When she had everything she needed, she gestured at him. "Move back, I want to get through."
Draco pulled back obediently, back into the prison room, and glared at Natalie as Marcella stepped out of the fireplace. "Here's your bloody mediwitch," he spat, his anger returning at the sight of her. "Let us into her cell."
Natalie smiled at Marcella, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I need to see your licensing, doctor."
Marcella glared back, digging into her bag for her ID and license, handing it to the guard. "If your quite done, I'd like to see Morag before you kill her." Marcella said, her French accent coming out a lot more. She followed Natalie back up to Morag's cell and gasped at the sight of her cousin, who was still standing where they had left her, arms wrapped around herself, very obviously shivering.
"Has she been like this the whole time?" She asked Draco. "From the beginning?"
"I don't know, I only got here twenty minutes ago," Draco said worriedly, watching Morag. "She told me not to visit, otherwise I'd have been here earlier...but she's been like the whole time I've been here."
Natalie interrupted. "Ever since she started hyperventilating and crying out in her sleep. The medics sedated her and ever since she came to she's been on a decline." She opened the cell door to allow them to enter. "She's been sweet, though."
"Morag isn't sweet." Marcella snapped at the guard. "She's never been sweet."
"She's evil," Draco agreed, barely resisting the urge to run towards Morag as the cell door finally opened, letting Marcella get to her first. "Aren't you, love? Evil and brilliant."
Marcella walked in slowly, obviously afraid of upsetting her cousin. "Mora?" She asked softly.
Morag nodded, but she wasn't looking at Marcella. "Fire?" She whimpered plaintively. "My Fire?"
Marcella had to bite down on the urge to turn and scream, demanding to see the medics who had done this. Instead, she slowly removed her wand, beginning a bevy of diagnostic spells from a few steps away, murmuring curses under her breath.
"Your Fire," Draco agreed, moving towards her. He stood behind her carefully, so that he wouldn't get in the way of Marcella's spells, and placed a gentle kiss on her neck, taking hold of both of her hips to pull her close against his body.
"Your Blood." Morag replied softly, slowly dropping her arms and leaning against him as if she needed him to stand.
"She had a panic attack." Marcella realised finally. "That's what started this whole mess--as if she hasn't had them her entire life." She shook her head. "There's almost no dark energy left in her body--her blood's eating itself." She shook her head. "It's just affecting her mentally more than physically."
Draco wrapped his arms around her waist when the spells stopped, mouthing affectionately at her throat and jaw. "Mine," he whispered when he reached her ear, and then looked at Marcella. "It can be fixed, though, right? She'll be alright?"
Marcella desperately wanted to comfort him, but didn't know how. "I'm...not sure." she said finally. She dug in her bag for a blood replenishing potion and held it up to Morag's lips. "When Niall did it, Aunt Lachina found out quickly, what with him puking all over the floor of the kitchen--there wasn't much damage done and what was was physical." She paused and pulled the now-empty vial away. "This must have been going on for days, maybe even weeks, and the mental damage was already beginning to start--it's older than the rest. Even if I can reverse it..." She trailed off. "I'm not sure I can fix it all. She has to fight for it."
Draco nodded, swallowing as he fought back the tendril of fear curling in his gut. He held Morag tighter, raising one hand to stroke her hair, and rested his forehead against her cheek. "You can fight it, can't you, Blood? I'll help you, we can fight it together."
"Warm..." Morag said softly, eyes fluttering shut. "My Fire keeps me warm."
Marcella would have laughed at the out of character behaviour if it wasn't so heart-wrenching. "That's not the worst of it, I'm afraid." Marcella said slowly. "The only way to really stop the degradation is for Mora to either do or fall victim to dark magic..." She trailed off, looking around. "This, obviously, isn’t legal." She shrugged. "It's been used for medical reasons before--but just to stop the death of a convicted woman who is already serving a life sentence? I don't have that much influence."
"I'll do it," Draco said immediately, clinging to the possibility of seeing her restored to full health. "They can put me in prison for it, so long as I stay with her. I don't care."
Marcella stared at him for a moment, a new kind of respect in her eyes, as if she had never seen him before. "There may be another option." She said, very slowly as her logical mind went into overdrive. "If you’re willing to go to those lengths to save her. I could get her a medical pardon maybe, but only if someone could give evidence of her helping the light side sometime during the war. Then, well, privacy is as privacy does."
"I'll do anything you need me to," Draco said evenly, tightening his hold on Morag's waist. "Though I doubt any evidence coming from me would be believed."
Marcella nodded. "You are biased, and your standing is shady enough that they might not do it." She shook her head, pulling a wit-sharpening potion out of her satchel, and raising it to Morag's lips. "but I think it might be best for everyone involved if you stay with her--should you leave it might worsen the damage exponentially."
"You don't have to convince me," Draco said dryly, looking over at Natalie. "I told her she could lock me in here. She didn't listen."
"You don't belong in here, Fire." Morag said softly, the potion taking effect slowly. "You're free. I got caught."
Draco shook his head, kissing her cheek. "You don't belong in here, either. But I belong wherever you are, Blood, don't push me away again. Please."
"Can't." She said, shaking her head. "Too warm and comfy. Can't push you away. Need you too much."
Marcella had moved over to speak to Natalie, and soon enough, had procured permission for Draco to stay in the cell, and then proceeded to the infirmary.
Natalie grinned at Morag. "You'll get two more blankets now."
Morag blinked owlishly at the screw. "Blankets? Who needs blankets now? My Fire's saving me."
"We'll take the blankets," Draco told Natalie, and grinned against Morag's throat, biting down on it gently. "It'll make the bed softer, love."
Morag mewled softly, eyes fluttering shut. "This from the man whose had me up against walls and on floors more times than in a bed." Morag muttered rebelliously, but she was grinning.
Draco waved dismissively in Natalie's direction, requesting privacy, and then spun Morag around in his arms, looking down at her affectionately. "That's my Blood," he whispered, smiling with relief. "But don't you know I was talking about actual sleeping on the bed...I'm afraid I've gotten used to the beds at the Manor, cold and empty as they are."
"I know." Morag said tiredly. "But ye canna give a lass like me an openin' like tha' an' no' get a commen', mo Áin." She leaned against him. "An' I been th' col' one."
"S'why I love you," Draco agreed, kissing her gently. "And I have been cold. Even the warmest blanket can't keep me warm without you next to me."
Morag kissed him back and then eyed the cot. "It'll be more like under ye, ye realise? There's barely enow room on tha' thing fer one o' us, let alone both o' us."
Draco smiled, biting down gently on her lip. "Next to me, under me, above me...doesn't matter. I could sleep in the mud and still be happy, if you're there."
"Feckin' cage." Morag muttered rebelliously, even as her voice softened from the teeth in her lip. She kissed him back and moved closer, all but crushing herself against him. "Ye came ta visit." She said slowly. "I dinna wan' ye ta see me weak."
"I did," Draco whispered, looking down. "I was going to stay away, the way you wanted me to...but Flint came and told me you were sick, and I couldn't let you just..." He bit his lip. "Isn't it better with me here?"
"Remind me ta hur' Marcus." Morag grumbled, but she tilted his head up gently, capturing his lips in another kiss. "An' e'erythin' is better when yer wit' me, m'Fire."
"No, Blood, you'd be worse if he hadn't done it," Draco murmured against her mouth, and smiled a little before deepening the kiss. "M'glad."
Morag whimpered slightly, clinging to him hard even as she deepened the kiss even further, as if she had been starving for him, and pulled back breathless only when she absolutely had to. "I missed you..." She whispered, shaking slightly from the amount of confusing emotion flying through her half-addled brain. "I need you, Fire...I'm going mad and it scares me."
Draco had pressed against her almost unconsciously as her mouth drew him in, and when he opened his eyes he found that they were inches away from the wall. He smiled again and stepped forward, pinning her against it with his body, and bent his head to kiss her neck. "I know," he whispered, breath warm in the cool air of the cell, as his hands tightened around her hips. "I know, it's okay. I'm here, I won't let you go mad."
"This is real, isn't it?" Morag choked out, even as she cooed slightly at the feeling of his breath on her neck. "I'm not dreaming again? I won't wake up without you?" Even as she said it, she clung to him, kissing him hard, her hands running over his cloth-covered chest. "Please." She pleaded breathlessly. "I can't...I can't be strong anymore."
"Very real," Draco promised, wrapping both arms around her waist and lifting her too easily off of the floor, using the wall as leverage as he supported her with his body. He carefully raised one hand to brush a lock of hair out of her eyes, and rested his forehead against hers for a moment to speak. "I'm really here, love, I'll be strong for you."
"Love you." Morag told him breathlessly, wrapping her legs easily around his waist as if nothing had changed, as if they were back in the library, or the dungeons or the...or, well, anywhere. She hadn't been kidding earlier. "It hurts without you, Fire..." She closed her eyes for a moment, but opened them again quickly.
Draco's eyes grew bright and his throat tightened with emotion, which he immediately took out on her skin with his fingers, slipping his hands beneath her shirt and tugging it over her head. "I love you, too," he said sincerely, biting down gently on her bare shoulder. "I love you so much, Blood. I won't let you hurt anymore."
"My Fire..." Morag murmured, so tempted to rip off his shirt like she always used to do, but she doubted her own strength now, and she didn't want him to have to wear one of the prison issue things. "I missed you, I need you..." She said softly, her voice dropping into a coo as he bit her, and she dropped her head to lick gently at his throat, biting down on her favourite spot with a small noise of contentment and desire at the same time.
"Yours," Draco agreed, breath catching as her teeth sank into his skin, and he reached for his wand, banishing all of their clothes to the small cot behind them. He curled around her, ignoring the chill on his back in favour of her warm skin, and pressed small, loving kisses to all of the skin he could reach as his fingers tangled in the soft curl of hair between her legs. "My Blood, your Fire. I missed you so much."
"Your Blood." Morag repeated breathlessly, pressing harder against him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing nonsense on the soft skin with her nails, pressing her mouth against his shoulder and moaning softly into the skin, arching wantonly against his fingers. "Have me, please..." She begged, unable to say anything else, she bit down on his shoulder.
"Mine," Draco whispered, shifting his weight slightly to press forward, eyes fluttering shut as he was finally, finally surrounded by the wonderful wet warmth of her, pausing with a small shiver as all of his senses slowly recovered from overwhelming relief and pleasure. Then he tightened his hold on her waist and began to move, kissing her hard to muffle a soft moan.
Morag's breath caught in her throat and her eyes fluttered shut despite herself as the dull ache she had been feeling for so long finally disappeared, biting her lip to stifle the sigh of relief that came out anyway. Leaning forward again, she nuzzled his neck, licking his pulse and the skin she had bitten with her tongue, moaning his name against the soft skin.
"God," Draco breathed, his lungs fighting to keep up with his racing heartbeat, and he shuddered against her, pressing against her mouth. "I love you, Blood, I love you so much..."
"So much, Fire, so much..." Morag echoed in a small voice, gasping as she clenched around him, shaking hard in his embrace, her entire body tensing with the building pleasure. "Too long, mo Áin...too long..."
Draco buried his face in her neck, unable to hold his head up against the rising tide of ecstasy, and managed a small nod, lips brushing against her skin. "Far too long," he agreed roughly, interrupting himself with a small groan. "Never...again..."
"Never..." Morag repeated, breath shallow, the word almost a moan as she hovered on the brink of climax, burying her head in his neck as hard as she could, fighting the pleasure long enough to clench around him again, before giving in and biting down to muffle her scream as she climaxed.
Draco could feel her scream vibrating against his skin, stopping his moan short before it could leave his throat. It shook his entire body as her grip dragged him over the edge with her, barely keeping his footing as he rode out his own orgasm and collapsed against her, breathing ragged.
"Mo Áin." Morag said tiredly, pulling away from his neck to kiss the side of his face gently. "My Fire, my heart..." She cooed softly and clung to him. "Warm again."
"Good," Draco said breathlessly, tightening his hold on her waist with the intention of carrying her over to the cot, but he paused for a moment longer to get his breath back, nuzzling gently against her neck. "Your Fire, Blood, bhur Áin...no more cold."
"Your Blood, Fire." Morag repeated in turn, curling her body against his as much as possible in an attempt to give herself over to him completely, "bhur Fola."
"Mine," Draco whispered, gathering his strength and carrying her across the room on shaky legs. He bent to lay her on the cot, then sprawled on top of her, absently pulling one of the blankets up over his shoulders before wrapping himself tightly around her. "My Blood, my love. Your Fire's here, not going anywhere without you."
"Mine." Morag repeated possessively. "Meinn." She clung to him, sighing in relief at the familiarity, warmth and comfort of it all as her eyes fluttered shut and she buried her head in his neck again. "Always."
"Always," Draco agreed, raising his head to kiss her gently as his fingers rubbed small, comforting circles on her ribs. "Always yours, my Blood. Forever."
"Yours forever." Morag whispered in response, kissing him back and sighing. "Happy." She said in puzzlement. "Was never happy in here before." She considered this for a moment before cuddling closer. "Sleep now." She said quietly, holding him tight. "Don't go. Can't wake up alone."
The odd way she spoke brought more unshed tears to Draco's eyes even as the words warmed his heart, but he closed them, not wanting to upset her. "I'll be here when you wake up, love," he said softly, stroking her cheek. "I promise. I'll always be here for you."
"Good." Morag murmured, closing her eyes again and kissed his neck, before falling quickly into a sleep that was far more comfortable and warm and right since she had arrived.
Draco stayed awake for a while longer, eyes watching the cell door as her even breathing lulled him slowly into unconsciousness.
~*~
It had taken Marcella almost all night to figure out what she was going to do about Morag, because for all her worry and searching, not all that many people on the light side had liked Morag. It had been the helpful screw who had mentioned Marcus Flint in passing after Marcella had updated Morag's chart and harangued the medics and healers up one side and down the other. She Flooed to the Ministry just as it opened, mincing her way along the hallway that lead to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and getting directions from some humongous Auror. She knocked on the door that was supposedly the man's office, praying to her patron and ancestors that the man would help her.
Marcus set down his quill, somewhat annoyed at the interruption and simultaneously relieved by it-- paperwork had always been his least favourite part of his job. He moved over to the door and opened it, smiling politely. "Can I help you?"
Marcella held out a hand. "Marcus Flint?" She queried, trying not to be intimidated by how much taller he was--being short sucked at times. "I'm Marcella du Pres. I'm afraid I need to speak to you about a matter of some urgency." She bit back a wince at how her French accent had come out in her anxiety.
"The one and only," Marcus agreed with a small chuckle, taking her hand. He shook it gently but firmly, then stood back to let her into his office. "Please, come in and have a seat."
"Merci beacoup." Marcella replied, blushing slightly before correcting herself.
"Thank you very much." She walked into the office and sat down as she was bid, even though the desk itself looked tempting. She always liked to sit on desks and tables, but that wouldn't be appropriate. Glancing at it longingly for a moment, she folded her hands in her lap. "I'm afraid I'm here on behalf of Morag Nessa MacDougal, you know her, I believe?"
Marcus didn't pause on his way back to his seat, but when he looked at Marcella again, his eyes had grown concerned, and slightly wary. "She's a friend of mine," he said carefully, folding his hands on the desk in front of him. "We used to work together."
"Azkaban is killing Little Mora." Marcella said, brushing a lock of hair out of her voice and completely missing how the nickname slipped out despite her resolution to be businesslike. "I want to get her pardoned, but I need help."
"I know," Marcus said with a nod, relaxing slightly. "I visited her on my rounds, and she didn't recognise me." He reached for his quill and then paused, as if remembering something. "You don't happen to know if Draco Malfoy went to visit her, do you? He said he would, but..."
Marcella smiled and nodded. "He's the one who pulled me out of France on my day off. He's with the ungentle one now." She sighed and leaned back against the chair. "The problem is that they removed most of the dark energy from her body--without it, her blood is eating itself--and don't think I don't see the irony in that--and worsening the mental damage she had already begun to suffer." She paused. "I'm a medi-witch, in case you haven't figured that out."
"Good," Marcus said, relieved. "He said he would, but...well, I wasn't entirely sure he'd listen to me." He picked up his quill and a fresh piece of parchment, scribbling a quick note about Morag's condition. "To get a pardon, you'll have to testify to that, of course. I'm assuming you're licensed, Scrimgeour will need proof-- and I'm guessing I'll be providing the evidence for her 'goodness'? I'll have to break into Cor's office, but that isn't hard."
"Yes, I'm licensed." Marcella said, rolling her eyes and pulling out her many and sundry identification cards. "The problem lies in the fact that that half of my family needs dark energy to live. When they took it away, trying to help her, all they did was take what was holding her together." She let out a huff of air in annoyance. "Idiots." She nodded. "I was hoping you'd provide evidence. I could ask Cormac, but I'm afraid he's too much of a hero--I never understood how Mora stayed with him for so long when she's been smitten with Draco since she was fifteen."
Marcus looked up from his notes, glanced at her cards, and nodded. "I didn't doubt you, I just meant to tell you what you'd need. If I'd known what the problem was, I'd have done this earlier." He scribbled a last note on the parchment, then rolled it up and sealed it carefully before handing it to her. "Give this to Percy Weasley, he'll make an appointment for you with the Minister. I'm going to go and get Morag's file from Cor-- you were right not to go to him, by the way, he's a bit of an idiot, but then, most Ministry pawns are: the same goes for the Azkaban medics." He stopped and considered her, smiling again. "I'm sorry I'm in such a rush. Auror work isn't exactly laid back, as I'm sure you know, and Morag is far more important, but I must keep my good standing to be of any help."
Marcella smiled broadly and took the roll of parchment from him, impetuously moving onto her tiptoes and kissing him lightly. "Thank you for not being an idiot." She remarked cheerfully, before quickly prancing out of the room on her mission, adding over her shoulder. "Tell the idiot I said hello."
Marcus' smile widened into a grin. "You're welcome, and I will," he agreed, blushing slightly at the kiss. "And if you see Morag before I do-- as I'm sure you will, I don't have rounds for a few days-- you'll tell her I said hello too, won't you? Even if she doesn't remember me?"
"Course I will!" Marcella said cheerfully as she disappeared with a little laugh, feeling much better than she had in days.
Marcus waved and watched her leave before resetting the wards on his office and heading downstairs. He broke into Cormac's office easily, as he had predicted-- the man had never been much for wards, and it took him all of a few seconds to slip through them. He pulled out the files he was looking for and opened them at random. The first file he found was Montague's, so he skipped ahead quite a few, flipping through them with ease. Malloy...Malfoy...
Marcus paused there, tempted to take a peek at the Malfoy file, and then the other name registered. Charlie and Eveleen Malloy,, Morag's voice reminded him, and he flipped back to that one, eyes flicking briefly to the door before opening it with interest.
In it, there was a black and white photo of a dark-haired young woman and a man--she was dressed in an old-fashioned light-coloured dress, some kind of flower in her hair while he was wearing what looked like old military robes. Marcus flipped past the photo to the first piece of paperwork.
'Charles "Charlie" Malloy was posthumously awarded the Order of Merlin, Third Class for Valour and Bravery against the Dark Lord Grindelwald.' The paper ran. 'It was accepted by his widow, Muggleborn Eveleen Malloy, nee Riordan, despite the protests of his mother who is contesting the validity of the marriage.' The paper continued, telling about the 'selfless acts' that Charles had performed, from healing Ministry soldiers from behind enemy lines as well as espionage and the details of his death, along with the fact that he had died after going into battle June 1, 1944--two days after wedding his botanist girlfriend secretly. It continued talking about the plans he had had after the war of going into Healer training officially with the sentiment: 'he never got the chance to help more people.'
The only other paper in the file was a coroner's report, stating that Malloy, Eveleen had drowned in a river two days after accepting the Order of Merlin for her husband. There was a note that said foul play or suicide was suspected, but the case had never been solved.
As he read, Marcus found himself getting more and more confused. Why would Morag compare herself with a woman she could not possibly have known, and how in the world had she known their story? He turned this new information over in his mind for a moment, then stored it for future reference, making a mental note to ask her about it. Flipping up to the MacDougal file, he pocketed it and left the office.
Morag woke rather late for her, and opened her eyes, blinking blearily. It took her a few moments to realise where she was, and when she did, she curled into Draco's body again, whimpering slightly, and trying to draw on his strength and sanity.
Draco was still mostly asleep, but he tightened his hold on her sleepily as he swam up through the depths of unconsciousness and finally opened his eyes to look at her. "Morning, love," he said softly, voice rough with sleep, and kissed her gently. "How are you feeling?"
"Morning, love." Morag repeated softly, kissing him back. "I'm feeling..." She trailed off, searching for the words to describe how she felt. "Better with you here." She finished finally. Her mind was swimming, but she was still able to maintain the threads of connection between thoughts, for the moment. "It's confusing..."
"What's confusing?" Draco asked, raising one hand to cup her cheek as he trailed soft, chaste kisses up her jaw and over her eyelids. "Do you want to tell me about it? Maybe I can help you sort it out."
"There's big gaps..." Morag said in frustration, wanting to gesture but not willing to release him. "I remember some things clearly, but then there are other times where I know I'm missing things, people, events...and I have no idea." She growled and closed her eyes to fight the tears of frustration that threatened to leak out. "I hate not knowing things and it only makes it worse when I know I should."
Draco's chest constricted painfully, and he held her tighter, bending his head in an attempt to kiss away the frustrated expression on her face. "It's okay, it'll come back," he whispered reassuringly against her cheek, pressing his mouth against the skin just beneath her eyes as a small amount of liquid collected there. "It will, I promise. Don't think about it anymore, I'm sorry I asked. Just be here with me, for now. It's alright."
Morag nodded and held him tighter, but she couldn't give up on the subject. "I remember magic--curses I know I've used, ways I've killed and I can't recall the names and faces. I know I worked at the Ministry, but I can't remember it, it's just a blur." She sighed and held him closer. "I'm sorry...Ravenclaw." she remarked, blaming it on her House.
"It's alright, I just don't want you to hurt anymore," Draco said softly, curling himself around her. "I thought it might help if you talked about it, but not if it's only making you more frustrated."
"I love you." Morag said, kissing his nose and smiling. "That's the important thing, right? Nothing else matters. Just my Fire." Still, though, the perceived weakness, the compromised state of her mind, bothered her more than she could admit.
"That's what matters to me," Draco agreed, though his eyes were still dark with concern. "I love you so much, Blood. All I want to do is help you, make you feel better...you know I'd do anything for you, don't you?"
"I know that." She said playfully, trying to get the worry out of his eyes. "Else you wouldn't have spent the night locked in Azkaban, not even for a mind-blowing shag." She held him close and kissed him. "You do help me."
Draco smiled against her mouth, tightening his hold on her even further. "The sex is fantastic, but that's because I love you, not why," he agreed, tracing her mouth with the tip of his tongue. "I'll stay here as long as you need me to."
Morag smiled. "Was always fantastic, e'en in the beginning." She pointed out, teasing his tongue lightly with her own. "And I'll always need you, love--but you can't sentence yourself to life in Azkaban because I need you." She traced his cheekbone with a nail. "You're free."
"Because I always loved you, just didn't know it," Draco murmured, eyes fluttering shut as he deepened the kiss, pressing into her touch. "Then too stubborn to admit it. Don't want to live without you, free or not."
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Morag MacDougal/Draco Malfoy, Marcus Flint/OFC
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Smex
Notes: Morag gets captured and sent to Azkaban, where she starts to go mad thanks to helpful Azkaban medics. And yes I realise prisons don't work like this.
Draco glared at her as he lit the fire, threw in a handful of powder, and stuck his head in, calling out Marcella's address in France.
Marcella didn't look up from her paper she was writing as her Floo activated, accustomed to being bothered on her all too rare days off. "I don't handle cases on my days off."
"You will for Morag," Draco said firmly, "If I have to come all the way through and drag you back here with me. They're killing her."
Marcella jumped slightly at the mention of her cousin and looked up in surprise. "Draco." She said, a little suspicious, but smiling at the protectiveness in his tone. "The last I heard Little Mora was in Azkaban...? Surely they have Healers...?" She paused, considering this. "And how do I know your really Draco or really in my fireplace for Mora?"
"She is in Azkaban," Draco said tiredly. "She said the medics took away her dark, and she's gone round the bend, didn't even recognise me at first. She said..." He paused, trying to remember what Morag had told him. "Buaidh No Bas?" He asked, as if unsure that was what she was asking him for, and winced at his accent.
Marcella blinked, summoning her bag and adding a few things. "Took her dark?" Marcella repeated. "What does that mean?" She stopped in disbelief, staring at Draco. "She didn't recognise you?" By the time he actually managed to say the MacDougal family motto she was already adding things she needed for treating that half of her family.
"It was a Gaelic word," Draco replied, relieved. "They thought she was under a curse, and they drained her of the dark magic...she said it made Niall sick."
"Sacre merde." Marcella cursed, stopping stock still for a moment and then summoning a few more things. "Have you ever seen Mora do dark magic? She absorbs it--the MacDougal line has its name because they're bred for it. Niall didn't want to be associated with dark magic at all and tried to drain it from himself--damn near killed himself that way." When she had everything she needed, she gestured at him. "Move back, I want to get through."
Draco pulled back obediently, back into the prison room, and glared at Natalie as Marcella stepped out of the fireplace. "Here's your bloody mediwitch," he spat, his anger returning at the sight of her. "Let us into her cell."
Natalie smiled at Marcella, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I need to see your licensing, doctor."
Marcella glared back, digging into her bag for her ID and license, handing it to the guard. "If your quite done, I'd like to see Morag before you kill her." Marcella said, her French accent coming out a lot more. She followed Natalie back up to Morag's cell and gasped at the sight of her cousin, who was still standing where they had left her, arms wrapped around herself, very obviously shivering.
"Has she been like this the whole time?" She asked Draco. "From the beginning?"
"I don't know, I only got here twenty minutes ago," Draco said worriedly, watching Morag. "She told me not to visit, otherwise I'd have been here earlier...but she's been like the whole time I've been here."
Natalie interrupted. "Ever since she started hyperventilating and crying out in her sleep. The medics sedated her and ever since she came to she's been on a decline." She opened the cell door to allow them to enter. "She's been sweet, though."
"Morag isn't sweet." Marcella snapped at the guard. "She's never been sweet."
"She's evil," Draco agreed, barely resisting the urge to run towards Morag as the cell door finally opened, letting Marcella get to her first. "Aren't you, love? Evil and brilliant."
Marcella walked in slowly, obviously afraid of upsetting her cousin. "Mora?" She asked softly.
Morag nodded, but she wasn't looking at Marcella. "Fire?" She whimpered plaintively. "My Fire?"
Marcella had to bite down on the urge to turn and scream, demanding to see the medics who had done this. Instead, she slowly removed her wand, beginning a bevy of diagnostic spells from a few steps away, murmuring curses under her breath.
"Your Fire," Draco agreed, moving towards her. He stood behind her carefully, so that he wouldn't get in the way of Marcella's spells, and placed a gentle kiss on her neck, taking hold of both of her hips to pull her close against his body.
"Your Blood." Morag replied softly, slowly dropping her arms and leaning against him as if she needed him to stand.
"She had a panic attack." Marcella realised finally. "That's what started this whole mess--as if she hasn't had them her entire life." She shook her head. "There's almost no dark energy left in her body--her blood's eating itself." She shook her head. "It's just affecting her mentally more than physically."
Draco wrapped his arms around her waist when the spells stopped, mouthing affectionately at her throat and jaw. "Mine," he whispered when he reached her ear, and then looked at Marcella. "It can be fixed, though, right? She'll be alright?"
Marcella desperately wanted to comfort him, but didn't know how. "I'm...not sure." she said finally. She dug in her bag for a blood replenishing potion and held it up to Morag's lips. "When Niall did it, Aunt Lachina found out quickly, what with him puking all over the floor of the kitchen--there wasn't much damage done and what was was physical." She paused and pulled the now-empty vial away. "This must have been going on for days, maybe even weeks, and the mental damage was already beginning to start--it's older than the rest. Even if I can reverse it..." She trailed off. "I'm not sure I can fix it all. She has to fight for it."
Draco nodded, swallowing as he fought back the tendril of fear curling in his gut. He held Morag tighter, raising one hand to stroke her hair, and rested his forehead against her cheek. "You can fight it, can't you, Blood? I'll help you, we can fight it together."
"Warm..." Morag said softly, eyes fluttering shut. "My Fire keeps me warm."
Marcella would have laughed at the out of character behaviour if it wasn't so heart-wrenching. "That's not the worst of it, I'm afraid." Marcella said slowly. "The only way to really stop the degradation is for Mora to either do or fall victim to dark magic..." She trailed off, looking around. "This, obviously, isn’t legal." She shrugged. "It's been used for medical reasons before--but just to stop the death of a convicted woman who is already serving a life sentence? I don't have that much influence."
"I'll do it," Draco said immediately, clinging to the possibility of seeing her restored to full health. "They can put me in prison for it, so long as I stay with her. I don't care."
Marcella stared at him for a moment, a new kind of respect in her eyes, as if she had never seen him before. "There may be another option." She said, very slowly as her logical mind went into overdrive. "If you’re willing to go to those lengths to save her. I could get her a medical pardon maybe, but only if someone could give evidence of her helping the light side sometime during the war. Then, well, privacy is as privacy does."
"I'll do anything you need me to," Draco said evenly, tightening his hold on Morag's waist. "Though I doubt any evidence coming from me would be believed."
Marcella nodded. "You are biased, and your standing is shady enough that they might not do it." She shook her head, pulling a wit-sharpening potion out of her satchel, and raising it to Morag's lips. "but I think it might be best for everyone involved if you stay with her--should you leave it might worsen the damage exponentially."
"You don't have to convince me," Draco said dryly, looking over at Natalie. "I told her she could lock me in here. She didn't listen."
"You don't belong in here, Fire." Morag said softly, the potion taking effect slowly. "You're free. I got caught."
Draco shook his head, kissing her cheek. "You don't belong in here, either. But I belong wherever you are, Blood, don't push me away again. Please."
"Can't." She said, shaking her head. "Too warm and comfy. Can't push you away. Need you too much."
Marcella had moved over to speak to Natalie, and soon enough, had procured permission for Draco to stay in the cell, and then proceeded to the infirmary.
Natalie grinned at Morag. "You'll get two more blankets now."
Morag blinked owlishly at the screw. "Blankets? Who needs blankets now? My Fire's saving me."
"We'll take the blankets," Draco told Natalie, and grinned against Morag's throat, biting down on it gently. "It'll make the bed softer, love."
Morag mewled softly, eyes fluttering shut. "This from the man whose had me up against walls and on floors more times than in a bed." Morag muttered rebelliously, but she was grinning.
Draco waved dismissively in Natalie's direction, requesting privacy, and then spun Morag around in his arms, looking down at her affectionately. "That's my Blood," he whispered, smiling with relief. "But don't you know I was talking about actual sleeping on the bed...I'm afraid I've gotten used to the beds at the Manor, cold and empty as they are."
"I know." Morag said tiredly. "But ye canna give a lass like me an openin' like tha' an' no' get a commen', mo Áin." She leaned against him. "An' I been th' col' one."
"S'why I love you," Draco agreed, kissing her gently. "And I have been cold. Even the warmest blanket can't keep me warm without you next to me."
Morag kissed him back and then eyed the cot. "It'll be more like under ye, ye realise? There's barely enow room on tha' thing fer one o' us, let alone both o' us."
Draco smiled, biting down gently on her lip. "Next to me, under me, above me...doesn't matter. I could sleep in the mud and still be happy, if you're there."
"Feckin' cage." Morag muttered rebelliously, even as her voice softened from the teeth in her lip. She kissed him back and moved closer, all but crushing herself against him. "Ye came ta visit." She said slowly. "I dinna wan' ye ta see me weak."
"I did," Draco whispered, looking down. "I was going to stay away, the way you wanted me to...but Flint came and told me you were sick, and I couldn't let you just..." He bit his lip. "Isn't it better with me here?"
"Remind me ta hur' Marcus." Morag grumbled, but she tilted his head up gently, capturing his lips in another kiss. "An' e'erythin' is better when yer wit' me, m'Fire."
"No, Blood, you'd be worse if he hadn't done it," Draco murmured against her mouth, and smiled a little before deepening the kiss. "M'glad."
Morag whimpered slightly, clinging to him hard even as she deepened the kiss even further, as if she had been starving for him, and pulled back breathless only when she absolutely had to. "I missed you..." She whispered, shaking slightly from the amount of confusing emotion flying through her half-addled brain. "I need you, Fire...I'm going mad and it scares me."
Draco had pressed against her almost unconsciously as her mouth drew him in, and when he opened his eyes he found that they were inches away from the wall. He smiled again and stepped forward, pinning her against it with his body, and bent his head to kiss her neck. "I know," he whispered, breath warm in the cool air of the cell, as his hands tightened around her hips. "I know, it's okay. I'm here, I won't let you go mad."
"This is real, isn't it?" Morag choked out, even as she cooed slightly at the feeling of his breath on her neck. "I'm not dreaming again? I won't wake up without you?" Even as she said it, she clung to him, kissing him hard, her hands running over his cloth-covered chest. "Please." She pleaded breathlessly. "I can't...I can't be strong anymore."
"Very real," Draco promised, wrapping both arms around her waist and lifting her too easily off of the floor, using the wall as leverage as he supported her with his body. He carefully raised one hand to brush a lock of hair out of her eyes, and rested his forehead against hers for a moment to speak. "I'm really here, love, I'll be strong for you."
"Love you." Morag told him breathlessly, wrapping her legs easily around his waist as if nothing had changed, as if they were back in the library, or the dungeons or the...or, well, anywhere. She hadn't been kidding earlier. "It hurts without you, Fire..." She closed her eyes for a moment, but opened them again quickly.
Draco's eyes grew bright and his throat tightened with emotion, which he immediately took out on her skin with his fingers, slipping his hands beneath her shirt and tugging it over her head. "I love you, too," he said sincerely, biting down gently on her bare shoulder. "I love you so much, Blood. I won't let you hurt anymore."
"My Fire..." Morag murmured, so tempted to rip off his shirt like she always used to do, but she doubted her own strength now, and she didn't want him to have to wear one of the prison issue things. "I missed you, I need you..." She said softly, her voice dropping into a coo as he bit her, and she dropped her head to lick gently at his throat, biting down on her favourite spot with a small noise of contentment and desire at the same time.
"Yours," Draco agreed, breath catching as her teeth sank into his skin, and he reached for his wand, banishing all of their clothes to the small cot behind them. He curled around her, ignoring the chill on his back in favour of her warm skin, and pressed small, loving kisses to all of the skin he could reach as his fingers tangled in the soft curl of hair between her legs. "My Blood, your Fire. I missed you so much."
"Your Blood." Morag repeated breathlessly, pressing harder against him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing nonsense on the soft skin with her nails, pressing her mouth against his shoulder and moaning softly into the skin, arching wantonly against his fingers. "Have me, please..." She begged, unable to say anything else, she bit down on his shoulder.
"Mine," Draco whispered, shifting his weight slightly to press forward, eyes fluttering shut as he was finally, finally surrounded by the wonderful wet warmth of her, pausing with a small shiver as all of his senses slowly recovered from overwhelming relief and pleasure. Then he tightened his hold on her waist and began to move, kissing her hard to muffle a soft moan.
Morag's breath caught in her throat and her eyes fluttered shut despite herself as the dull ache she had been feeling for so long finally disappeared, biting her lip to stifle the sigh of relief that came out anyway. Leaning forward again, she nuzzled his neck, licking his pulse and the skin she had bitten with her tongue, moaning his name against the soft skin.
"God," Draco breathed, his lungs fighting to keep up with his racing heartbeat, and he shuddered against her, pressing against her mouth. "I love you, Blood, I love you so much..."
"So much, Fire, so much..." Morag echoed in a small voice, gasping as she clenched around him, shaking hard in his embrace, her entire body tensing with the building pleasure. "Too long, mo Áin...too long..."
Draco buried his face in her neck, unable to hold his head up against the rising tide of ecstasy, and managed a small nod, lips brushing against her skin. "Far too long," he agreed roughly, interrupting himself with a small groan. "Never...again..."
"Never..." Morag repeated, breath shallow, the word almost a moan as she hovered on the brink of climax, burying her head in his neck as hard as she could, fighting the pleasure long enough to clench around him again, before giving in and biting down to muffle her scream as she climaxed.
Draco could feel her scream vibrating against his skin, stopping his moan short before it could leave his throat. It shook his entire body as her grip dragged him over the edge with her, barely keeping his footing as he rode out his own orgasm and collapsed against her, breathing ragged.
"Mo Áin." Morag said tiredly, pulling away from his neck to kiss the side of his face gently. "My Fire, my heart..." She cooed softly and clung to him. "Warm again."
"Good," Draco said breathlessly, tightening his hold on her waist with the intention of carrying her over to the cot, but he paused for a moment longer to get his breath back, nuzzling gently against her neck. "Your Fire, Blood, bhur Áin...no more cold."
"Your Blood, Fire." Morag repeated in turn, curling her body against his as much as possible in an attempt to give herself over to him completely, "bhur Fola."
"Mine," Draco whispered, gathering his strength and carrying her across the room on shaky legs. He bent to lay her on the cot, then sprawled on top of her, absently pulling one of the blankets up over his shoulders before wrapping himself tightly around her. "My Blood, my love. Your Fire's here, not going anywhere without you."
"Mine." Morag repeated possessively. "Meinn." She clung to him, sighing in relief at the familiarity, warmth and comfort of it all as her eyes fluttered shut and she buried her head in his neck again. "Always."
"Always," Draco agreed, raising his head to kiss her gently as his fingers rubbed small, comforting circles on her ribs. "Always yours, my Blood. Forever."
"Yours forever." Morag whispered in response, kissing him back and sighing. "Happy." She said in puzzlement. "Was never happy in here before." She considered this for a moment before cuddling closer. "Sleep now." She said quietly, holding him tight. "Don't go. Can't wake up alone."
The odd way she spoke brought more unshed tears to Draco's eyes even as the words warmed his heart, but he closed them, not wanting to upset her. "I'll be here when you wake up, love," he said softly, stroking her cheek. "I promise. I'll always be here for you."
"Good." Morag murmured, closing her eyes again and kissed his neck, before falling quickly into a sleep that was far more comfortable and warm and right since she had arrived.
Draco stayed awake for a while longer, eyes watching the cell door as her even breathing lulled him slowly into unconsciousness.
~*~
It had taken Marcella almost all night to figure out what she was going to do about Morag, because for all her worry and searching, not all that many people on the light side had liked Morag. It had been the helpful screw who had mentioned Marcus Flint in passing after Marcella had updated Morag's chart and harangued the medics and healers up one side and down the other. She Flooed to the Ministry just as it opened, mincing her way along the hallway that lead to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and getting directions from some humongous Auror. She knocked on the door that was supposedly the man's office, praying to her patron and ancestors that the man would help her.
Marcus set down his quill, somewhat annoyed at the interruption and simultaneously relieved by it-- paperwork had always been his least favourite part of his job. He moved over to the door and opened it, smiling politely. "Can I help you?"
Marcella held out a hand. "Marcus Flint?" She queried, trying not to be intimidated by how much taller he was--being short sucked at times. "I'm Marcella du Pres. I'm afraid I need to speak to you about a matter of some urgency." She bit back a wince at how her French accent had come out in her anxiety.
"The one and only," Marcus agreed with a small chuckle, taking her hand. He shook it gently but firmly, then stood back to let her into his office. "Please, come in and have a seat."
"Merci beacoup." Marcella replied, blushing slightly before correcting herself.
"Thank you very much." She walked into the office and sat down as she was bid, even though the desk itself looked tempting. She always liked to sit on desks and tables, but that wouldn't be appropriate. Glancing at it longingly for a moment, she folded her hands in her lap. "I'm afraid I'm here on behalf of Morag Nessa MacDougal, you know her, I believe?"
Marcus didn't pause on his way back to his seat, but when he looked at Marcella again, his eyes had grown concerned, and slightly wary. "She's a friend of mine," he said carefully, folding his hands on the desk in front of him. "We used to work together."
"Azkaban is killing Little Mora." Marcella said, brushing a lock of hair out of her voice and completely missing how the nickname slipped out despite her resolution to be businesslike. "I want to get her pardoned, but I need help."
"I know," Marcus said with a nod, relaxing slightly. "I visited her on my rounds, and she didn't recognise me." He reached for his quill and then paused, as if remembering something. "You don't happen to know if Draco Malfoy went to visit her, do you? He said he would, but..."
Marcella smiled and nodded. "He's the one who pulled me out of France on my day off. He's with the ungentle one now." She sighed and leaned back against the chair. "The problem is that they removed most of the dark energy from her body--without it, her blood is eating itself--and don't think I don't see the irony in that--and worsening the mental damage she had already begun to suffer." She paused. "I'm a medi-witch, in case you haven't figured that out."
"Good," Marcus said, relieved. "He said he would, but...well, I wasn't entirely sure he'd listen to me." He picked up his quill and a fresh piece of parchment, scribbling a quick note about Morag's condition. "To get a pardon, you'll have to testify to that, of course. I'm assuming you're licensed, Scrimgeour will need proof-- and I'm guessing I'll be providing the evidence for her 'goodness'? I'll have to break into Cor's office, but that isn't hard."
"Yes, I'm licensed." Marcella said, rolling her eyes and pulling out her many and sundry identification cards. "The problem lies in the fact that that half of my family needs dark energy to live. When they took it away, trying to help her, all they did was take what was holding her together." She let out a huff of air in annoyance. "Idiots." She nodded. "I was hoping you'd provide evidence. I could ask Cormac, but I'm afraid he's too much of a hero--I never understood how Mora stayed with him for so long when she's been smitten with Draco since she was fifteen."
Marcus looked up from his notes, glanced at her cards, and nodded. "I didn't doubt you, I just meant to tell you what you'd need. If I'd known what the problem was, I'd have done this earlier." He scribbled a last note on the parchment, then rolled it up and sealed it carefully before handing it to her. "Give this to Percy Weasley, he'll make an appointment for you with the Minister. I'm going to go and get Morag's file from Cor-- you were right not to go to him, by the way, he's a bit of an idiot, but then, most Ministry pawns are: the same goes for the Azkaban medics." He stopped and considered her, smiling again. "I'm sorry I'm in such a rush. Auror work isn't exactly laid back, as I'm sure you know, and Morag is far more important, but I must keep my good standing to be of any help."
Marcella smiled broadly and took the roll of parchment from him, impetuously moving onto her tiptoes and kissing him lightly. "Thank you for not being an idiot." She remarked cheerfully, before quickly prancing out of the room on her mission, adding over her shoulder. "Tell the idiot I said hello."
Marcus' smile widened into a grin. "You're welcome, and I will," he agreed, blushing slightly at the kiss. "And if you see Morag before I do-- as I'm sure you will, I don't have rounds for a few days-- you'll tell her I said hello too, won't you? Even if she doesn't remember me?"
"Course I will!" Marcella said cheerfully as she disappeared with a little laugh, feeling much better than she had in days.
Marcus waved and watched her leave before resetting the wards on his office and heading downstairs. He broke into Cormac's office easily, as he had predicted-- the man had never been much for wards, and it took him all of a few seconds to slip through them. He pulled out the files he was looking for and opened them at random. The first file he found was Montague's, so he skipped ahead quite a few, flipping through them with ease. Malloy...Malfoy...
Marcus paused there, tempted to take a peek at the Malfoy file, and then the other name registered. Charlie and Eveleen Malloy,, Morag's voice reminded him, and he flipped back to that one, eyes flicking briefly to the door before opening it with interest.
In it, there was a black and white photo of a dark-haired young woman and a man--she was dressed in an old-fashioned light-coloured dress, some kind of flower in her hair while he was wearing what looked like old military robes. Marcus flipped past the photo to the first piece of paperwork.
'Charles "Charlie" Malloy was posthumously awarded the Order of Merlin, Third Class for Valour and Bravery against the Dark Lord Grindelwald.' The paper ran. 'It was accepted by his widow, Muggleborn Eveleen Malloy, nee Riordan, despite the protests of his mother who is contesting the validity of the marriage.' The paper continued, telling about the 'selfless acts' that Charles had performed, from healing Ministry soldiers from behind enemy lines as well as espionage and the details of his death, along with the fact that he had died after going into battle June 1, 1944--two days after wedding his botanist girlfriend secretly. It continued talking about the plans he had had after the war of going into Healer training officially with the sentiment: 'he never got the chance to help more people.'
The only other paper in the file was a coroner's report, stating that Malloy, Eveleen had drowned in a river two days after accepting the Order of Merlin for her husband. There was a note that said foul play or suicide was suspected, but the case had never been solved.
As he read, Marcus found himself getting more and more confused. Why would Morag compare herself with a woman she could not possibly have known, and how in the world had she known their story? He turned this new information over in his mind for a moment, then stored it for future reference, making a mental note to ask her about it. Flipping up to the MacDougal file, he pocketed it and left the office.
Morag woke rather late for her, and opened her eyes, blinking blearily. It took her a few moments to realise where she was, and when she did, she curled into Draco's body again, whimpering slightly, and trying to draw on his strength and sanity.
Draco was still mostly asleep, but he tightened his hold on her sleepily as he swam up through the depths of unconsciousness and finally opened his eyes to look at her. "Morning, love," he said softly, voice rough with sleep, and kissed her gently. "How are you feeling?"
"Morning, love." Morag repeated softly, kissing him back. "I'm feeling..." She trailed off, searching for the words to describe how she felt. "Better with you here." She finished finally. Her mind was swimming, but she was still able to maintain the threads of connection between thoughts, for the moment. "It's confusing..."
"What's confusing?" Draco asked, raising one hand to cup her cheek as he trailed soft, chaste kisses up her jaw and over her eyelids. "Do you want to tell me about it? Maybe I can help you sort it out."
"There's big gaps..." Morag said in frustration, wanting to gesture but not willing to release him. "I remember some things clearly, but then there are other times where I know I'm missing things, people, events...and I have no idea." She growled and closed her eyes to fight the tears of frustration that threatened to leak out. "I hate not knowing things and it only makes it worse when I know I should."
Draco's chest constricted painfully, and he held her tighter, bending his head in an attempt to kiss away the frustrated expression on her face. "It's okay, it'll come back," he whispered reassuringly against her cheek, pressing his mouth against the skin just beneath her eyes as a small amount of liquid collected there. "It will, I promise. Don't think about it anymore, I'm sorry I asked. Just be here with me, for now. It's alright."
Morag nodded and held him tighter, but she couldn't give up on the subject. "I remember magic--curses I know I've used, ways I've killed and I can't recall the names and faces. I know I worked at the Ministry, but I can't remember it, it's just a blur." She sighed and held him closer. "I'm sorry...Ravenclaw." she remarked, blaming it on her House.
"It's alright, I just don't want you to hurt anymore," Draco said softly, curling himself around her. "I thought it might help if you talked about it, but not if it's only making you more frustrated."
"I love you." Morag said, kissing his nose and smiling. "That's the important thing, right? Nothing else matters. Just my Fire." Still, though, the perceived weakness, the compromised state of her mind, bothered her more than she could admit.
"That's what matters to me," Draco agreed, though his eyes were still dark with concern. "I love you so much, Blood. All I want to do is help you, make you feel better...you know I'd do anything for you, don't you?"
"I know that." She said playfully, trying to get the worry out of his eyes. "Else you wouldn't have spent the night locked in Azkaban, not even for a mind-blowing shag." She held him close and kissed him. "You do help me."
Draco smiled against her mouth, tightening his hold on her even further. "The sex is fantastic, but that's because I love you, not why," he agreed, tracing her mouth with the tip of his tongue. "I'll stay here as long as you need me to."
Morag smiled. "Was always fantastic, e'en in the beginning." She pointed out, teasing his tongue lightly with her own. "And I'll always need you, love--but you can't sentence yourself to life in Azkaban because I need you." She traced his cheekbone with a nail. "You're free."
"Because I always loved you, just didn't know it," Draco murmured, eyes fluttering shut as he deepened the kiss, pressing into her touch. "Then too stubborn to admit it. Don't want to live without you, free or not."