Targeted 3
Title: Targeted 3
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: Draco, Harry, OMC
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): Language
Word count: 780
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This was written for fun, not for profit.
Summary: Draco and Harry seek some answers.
Draco stared at the closed door in stunned silence, then swore beneath his breath. As he strode angrily across the room and grabbed the door knob, he heard a loud crack of Disapparation. He wrenched the door open and raced to the top of the steps. "Potter!" There was no answer. "Potter?!" The house was eerily silent. Draco turned and stormed back into his designated guest room. "Fuck!" he fumed. What the hell had Potter done with his wand? And what was going on? He hated not knowing, and if this was some elaborate prank on Potter's part, Draco was going to kill him.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to piece together what had happened. What Draco knew was that he had gone to bed in his heavily warded flat, only to wake up to Unforgivables arcing over his head. Potter had dragged him from his bed and Apparated him away from his home to this place...wherever this place was. Potter had informed Draco that he was in danger, and while Draco acknowledged he had enemies, he didn't know of one who would resort to murdering him in his sleep for payback.
Draco was also faced with the disturbing knowledge that he had found this take-charge Potter to be rather appealing. He'd always seen Potter as a bumbling sort who was too goody goody for his own good, but this version had been frighteningly competent, and he certainly hadn't allowed Draco to walk all over him. As a result, Draco was semi-aroused. It was so difficult to find a real man these days. With a snort of self-loathing, he tamped down his inappropriate lust and surged to his feet. There was no way he was going to simply crawl into a strange bed and go to sleep like a good little boy, so he resolved to explore Potter's house for some clue as to his whereabouts. He rifled through the drawers of the dresser, coming up with a pair of faded denims that looked like they might fit him and a too-large T-shirt. Still, Draco felt more in control once he was dressed in something other than a robe. Barefoot, he made his way down the steps and headed for the front door of the house.
~*~
Harry strode through the corridors of the Ministry, making a beeline for the office where the heads of the Assassination team were quartered. No matter what time of day or night, at least one of the three would be there. As he stormed into the outer office, the secretary on duty half-rose from her seat in alarm. "You can't go in-"
Crash!
Harry slammed the door open so hard it hit the far wall with a resounding bang. He automatically pivoted to avoid the hex aimed his way. He knew full well before barging into the office that each of his superiors was a seasoned fighter, and Harry had allowed for that when he entered.
"Potter! What the hell?!" barked Dunwoody.
"What the hell is right," snarled Harry, striding forward to bang his fists onto the man's desk. "You dispatched me to eliminate Draco Malfoy, Death Eater."
"And?" sneered the other man.
"And, he's unmarked, god damn it!" shouted Harry.
Dunwoody leaned back his his chair. "Imagine that," he drawled.
Harry leaned closer to loom over Dunwoody. "I nearly killed an innocent man," he hissed.
Dunwoody's smirk faltered, and he sat forward abruptly. "What do you mean, you almost killed him?"
"It would mean Malfoy is still alive."
"Has your perfect record been marred?" snorted Dunwoody.
"I've never failed to eliminate a viable target, and that still holds true," Harry countered, voice gone almost dangerously soft. In the same quiet voice, he commanded, "Tell me why I was sent to kill an innocent man."
"Malfoy is hardly innocent," sneered the head of the department.
"You know what I mean," spat Harry. "He wasn't a viable target, yet I was sent to kill him, and I want to know why. If it was a monumental fuck-up on someone's part, then I want that person's name."
"You're not in a position to be making demands."
"You know I don't like playing my Chosen One card, but I'm sure you're also aware that a word from me will see you out of a job," Harry reminded him coldly.
"Are you threatening me, Potter?" blustered Dunwoody.
Harry's eyes flickered with something deadly. "If that's what it takes to get answers, Dunwoody, then consider yourself threatened."
~tbc~
Targeted 4
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: Draco, Harry, OMC
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): Language
Word count: 780
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This was written for fun, not for profit.
Summary: Draco and Harry seek some answers.
Draco stared at the closed door in stunned silence, then swore beneath his breath. As he strode angrily across the room and grabbed the door knob, he heard a loud crack of Disapparation. He wrenched the door open and raced to the top of the steps. "Potter!" There was no answer. "Potter?!" The house was eerily silent. Draco turned and stormed back into his designated guest room. "Fuck!" he fumed. What the hell had Potter done with his wand? And what was going on? He hated not knowing, and if this was some elaborate prank on Potter's part, Draco was going to kill him.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to piece together what had happened. What Draco knew was that he had gone to bed in his heavily warded flat, only to wake up to Unforgivables arcing over his head. Potter had dragged him from his bed and Apparated him away from his home to this place...wherever this place was. Potter had informed Draco that he was in danger, and while Draco acknowledged he had enemies, he didn't know of one who would resort to murdering him in his sleep for payback.
Draco was also faced with the disturbing knowledge that he had found this take-charge Potter to be rather appealing. He'd always seen Potter as a bumbling sort who was too goody goody for his own good, but this version had been frighteningly competent, and he certainly hadn't allowed Draco to walk all over him. As a result, Draco was semi-aroused. It was so difficult to find a real man these days. With a snort of self-loathing, he tamped down his inappropriate lust and surged to his feet. There was no way he was going to simply crawl into a strange bed and go to sleep like a good little boy, so he resolved to explore Potter's house for some clue as to his whereabouts. He rifled through the drawers of the dresser, coming up with a pair of faded denims that looked like they might fit him and a too-large T-shirt. Still, Draco felt more in control once he was dressed in something other than a robe. Barefoot, he made his way down the steps and headed for the front door of the house.
~*~
Harry strode through the corridors of the Ministry, making a beeline for the office where the heads of the Assassination team were quartered. No matter what time of day or night, at least one of the three would be there. As he stormed into the outer office, the secretary on duty half-rose from her seat in alarm. "You can't go in-"
Crash!
Harry slammed the door open so hard it hit the far wall with a resounding bang. He automatically pivoted to avoid the hex aimed his way. He knew full well before barging into the office that each of his superiors was a seasoned fighter, and Harry had allowed for that when he entered.
"Potter! What the hell?!" barked Dunwoody.
"What the hell is right," snarled Harry, striding forward to bang his fists onto the man's desk. "You dispatched me to eliminate Draco Malfoy, Death Eater."
"And?" sneered the other man.
"And, he's unmarked, god damn it!" shouted Harry.
Dunwoody leaned back his his chair. "Imagine that," he drawled.
Harry leaned closer to loom over Dunwoody. "I nearly killed an innocent man," he hissed.
Dunwoody's smirk faltered, and he sat forward abruptly. "What do you mean, you almost killed him?"
"It would mean Malfoy is still alive."
"Has your perfect record been marred?" snorted Dunwoody.
"I've never failed to eliminate a viable target, and that still holds true," Harry countered, voice gone almost dangerously soft. In the same quiet voice, he commanded, "Tell me why I was sent to kill an innocent man."
"Malfoy is hardly innocent," sneered the head of the department.
"You know what I mean," spat Harry. "He wasn't a viable target, yet I was sent to kill him, and I want to know why. If it was a monumental fuck-up on someone's part, then I want that person's name."
"You're not in a position to be making demands."
"You know I don't like playing my Chosen One card, but I'm sure you're also aware that a word from me will see you out of a job," Harry reminded him coldly.
"Are you threatening me, Potter?" blustered Dunwoody.
Harry's eyes flickered with something deadly. "If that's what it takes to get answers, Dunwoody, then consider yourself threatened."
~tbc~
Targeted 4