HP Fic: A Moment of Warmth in the Cold (Harry/Draco). 13 Smutty Nights series, part 4/13
Title: A Moment of Warmth in the Cold
Rating: PG-13 (for darkish themes, I suppose)
Word Count: 1826
Warnings: Dementor’s Kiss on an OC. Angst (mostly Dementor-induced).
Prompt: 13 Smutty Nights of Halloween fest at hd_seasons, prompt #4 (Dementor; touch)
Disclaimer: Done for fun, not profit. No copyright infringement intended. Characters belong to JKR.
Summary: Harry has to put himself through this, no matter how it makes him feel.
Author’s Notes: This one’s a bit of the hurt/comfort. Things get quite a bit lighter in the next instalment, though, I promise.
Harry began to wonder if he had some insane need to torture himself.
Last night had certainly been no argument against the idea. He had kissed his partner, with absolutely no reaction. And while that had been disappointing, the more he thought about it (and it wasn't like he had been able to think of anything else), it was also maddening. Malfoy had not responded. He had not returned the kiss, had not tilted his face into it, had not lifted his hands to touch Harry. But neither had he seemed revolted. He had not pulled back, he had not shoved Harry away, and he had not said anything angry. He had simply done nothing. That was the most confusing thing of all.
And now, not ten hours afterward, he was sitting in this closed-off, private chamber in the Ministry's upper levels, awaiting justice. Justice that was going to be meted out due, in part, to his and Malfoy's efforts. And his partner didn't care about that, either.
Harry had been under the assumption years ago that criminals sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss had that punishment carried out in some dingy room in Azkaban. It was not until his sixth month as an Auror that he had learned that while some of them did take place in the prison, a surprising percentage of sentences were carried out in the Ministry. This was one such case.
Bertram Cadwallader had been the first real criminal Harry and Malfoy had come upon. The case they were handed was supposed to be practice--an unsolved set of murders from two years before either of them was born. Aurors were often given old cases to study at the beginning of their careers--a way to familiarise themselves with how case files were to look, what kind of paperwork was involved, what kind of procedures had been followed during the investigation. Usually, they were nothing more than practical instruction. In their case, however, Malfoy had noticed something in one of the eyewitness statements, and Harry had remembered something Remus had once said in a class at Hogwarts. It had been enough to produce a new lead, and eventually, solve the case. No one had expected the result. Least of all, Harry, Malfoy, or Cadwallader.
When Harry had heard an additional, much more grisly, unsolved murder had been tied to the man not two months ago, he had shared the news with his partner. He had also mentioned that the next course of action was likely a Dementor's Kiss. Malfoy had only shaken his head and said that the bastard was only getting what was coming to him. He knew his partner was right. But some part of him still insisted that if the situation were to come to that point, then he had be there when justice was served. He thought Malfoy might feel the same. But then, he had been wrong about what else he thought Malfoy might feel. It shouldn't surprise him that he had been wrong about this as well.
"Potter?"
Harry turned toward the door to see Malfoy hesitantly stick his head inside the room. "Oh, you are here."
"Of course I am. Where else would I be?" His conscience would not allow him to skip this. And even though the Ministry had deemed this the proper punishment, Harry still was not certain he could ever really support it.
"Nowhere. Of course. Are you certain you want to put yourself through this?"
"Yes, Malfoy. I'm absolutely certain. This will be over shortly. I'll head back to the office as soon as it's done. Go on. I'll be down soon."
Instead of nodding and ducking back out through the door, Malfoy stepped the rest of the way through and came to stand next to Harry at the window that looked into the chamber. "No."
"No?"
"Yes. I said 'no'. If you mean to put yourself through this, then I will too."
"You don't have to do that."
Malfoy looked at him as if he was studying him. "I know I don't."
It wasn't long before Cadwallader was brought into the chamber on the other side of the glass. He did not fight or struggle. He simply walked to the centre of the room and laid upon the table he was then strapped to. It was so silent in their little room. He actually heard Malfoy blink, a sound Harry was not aware he could identify until now. It was just the two of them in here, though the room was meant to be able to hold an audience of twenty. Harry knew he could lift the silencing spell on the glass and they would be able to hear everything on the other side, but he did not want to. He could only take so much.
"Have you ever seen this happen before?" Malfoy asked quietly beside him.
"Yes. No," he ammended quickly. He had seen it happen to Sirius, but that was before they had gone back with Hermione's Time Turner, so it really hadn't happened, had it? Not to mention that what they had done was probably all sorts of illegal. There were fairly strict rules for Time Turners.
Malfoy had not missed his slip-up. He looked closely at Harry and sighed. "I don't expect you to explain. I was just curious. I've never seen it happen. I don't suppose seeing it once makes it any easier."
Harry rather thought it might actually make it more difficult. "Thank you for not pressing the issue. It's not something I like to remember." He had managed to save Sirius that night, only to watch him die two years later. What good had it really done? The only thing that made this potentially easier to take was that Cadwallader actually earned his fate.
They were both staring straight ahead through the window when the glass frosted at the edges. Malfoy shivered next to him as a chill seeped into the room, and Harry wondered briefly which memories the Dementors forced him to remember. He knew what was coming, but did not produce a Patronus to offset the effect. To his surprise, it was not his mother screaming that filled his head as the Dementor leaned over Cadwallader. There was no sound at all. It was just a montage of faces flashing before him. Snape. Colin. Sirius. Remus. Tonks. Fred. The faces kept coming, and he squeezed his eyes shut against them.
He could not see anything, but he could still feel. The cold crept deep into him, freezing muscles and bone in a combination of chill and dispair. Why had he chosen this profession? He would never be able to live up to expectations, and no matter how many criminals and Dark Wizards he caught, there were always hundreds, thousands more that would ellude him. He had not been able to save so many of those he cared about. When it came down to it, he was a failure. And he was so cold.
Something brushed the hand at his side, and then warm fingers closed around his numb ones. He opened his eyes and saw Malfoy looking not at him, but at the scene in front of them. There were tears on the other man's cheeks, and he looked nearly as miserable as Harry felt. The Dementor, having finished what it came to do, released its Kiss and was led out of the room. Harry expected Malfoy to drop his hand and apologise.
He did no such thing. Instead, he squeezed Harry's hand gently and dug into the pocket of his robes with his free hand. "Here," he said quietly, in a voice that was thick with emotion. "Eat that." Something was placed into the palm of Harry's free hand.
Harry looked at the item and managed a small smile before something hitched in his chest. Chocolate. He thought of the first time he had met Remus, on the train. It still hurt to remember, especially right now. "You meant to stay all along."
"No, Potter. I didn't. I meant to hand this over to you and leave."
"Why didn't you?"
"I don't know." He seemed to realise that there were tears on his face and scrubbed at them with his free hand. "Seriously, Potter. Eat the chocolate." He let go of Harry's hand and shoved his own into his pocket.
Harry unwrapped the chocolate and snapped it in half. He handed one of the pieces back to his partner. "We'll share it."
Malfoy nodded and popped his piece of chocolate into his mouth and watched as Harry did the same. "Thank you." He chewed for a moment, then swallowed. "Look, Potter, I wanted to talk to you."
Harry shook his head. "Not now, Malfoy. Not when we're both still affected by the Dementor. Who knows what mad things we might say. Or do."
His partner looked at him and rubbed his hands together, and Harry knew he had caught his meaning. One desperate moment of trying to find warmth and comfort in the wake of a Dementor. It was a feeble attempt, but it had helped, just for a moment. Harry wanted to thank him for it, but worried it would be a very bad idea, after the events of last night.
Malfoy looked at him hard for a moment. "If you insist."
"I do."
Harry reached for the door to leave, only to have it slam into him. He let out a grunt and stumbled backward into Malfoy, who caught him and held him upright. "What the fuck?" he muttered.
"Whoops," said someone on the other side of the door, and then Nuttcombe stepped forward. "Sorry, Potter. Morgan sent me to retrieve you as soon as you were done here. There's a possible break in the case from last night. Morgan wants us all in the briefing room in five." She looked at them both and cocked her head. Harry thought it made her look like a curious dog. "You two all right?"
"Fine, Nuttcombe," Malfoy said, making a passable attempt at sounding as though he had been completely unaffected by what had gone on in here just minutes before.
"Good. I still can't believe anyone would want to watch one of these things." She shivered. "Out you two get. I'm under orders to make sure you're not late. Again."
Harry opened his mouth to say something, but he caught a shake of Malfoy's head, warning him not to rise to the taunt. Harry almost laughed, only laughter was still a bit beyond him. Imagine, Malfoy being the one to caution him not to lose his temper. He nodded and stepped forward and into the hallway. As they waited for the lift, Harry could have sworn he felt Malfoy's hand at the small of his back, but when he turned to look, his partner's hand was at his side, wand in hand.
Harry sighed. He needed more chocolate.
Rating: PG-13 (for darkish themes, I suppose)
Word Count: 1826
Warnings: Dementor’s Kiss on an OC. Angst (mostly Dementor-induced).
Prompt: 13 Smutty Nights of Halloween fest at hd_seasons, prompt #4 (Dementor; touch)
Disclaimer: Done for fun, not profit. No copyright infringement intended. Characters belong to JKR.
Summary: Harry has to put himself through this, no matter how it makes him feel.
Author’s Notes: This one’s a bit of the hurt/comfort. Things get quite a bit lighter in the next instalment, though, I promise.
Harry began to wonder if he had some insane need to torture himself.
Last night had certainly been no argument against the idea. He had kissed his partner, with absolutely no reaction. And while that had been disappointing, the more he thought about it (and it wasn't like he had been able to think of anything else), it was also maddening. Malfoy had not responded. He had not returned the kiss, had not tilted his face into it, had not lifted his hands to touch Harry. But neither had he seemed revolted. He had not pulled back, he had not shoved Harry away, and he had not said anything angry. He had simply done nothing. That was the most confusing thing of all.
And now, not ten hours afterward, he was sitting in this closed-off, private chamber in the Ministry's upper levels, awaiting justice. Justice that was going to be meted out due, in part, to his and Malfoy's efforts. And his partner didn't care about that, either.
Harry had been under the assumption years ago that criminals sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss had that punishment carried out in some dingy room in Azkaban. It was not until his sixth month as an Auror that he had learned that while some of them did take place in the prison, a surprising percentage of sentences were carried out in the Ministry. This was one such case.
Bertram Cadwallader had been the first real criminal Harry and Malfoy had come upon. The case they were handed was supposed to be practice--an unsolved set of murders from two years before either of them was born. Aurors were often given old cases to study at the beginning of their careers--a way to familiarise themselves with how case files were to look, what kind of paperwork was involved, what kind of procedures had been followed during the investigation. Usually, they were nothing more than practical instruction. In their case, however, Malfoy had noticed something in one of the eyewitness statements, and Harry had remembered something Remus had once said in a class at Hogwarts. It had been enough to produce a new lead, and eventually, solve the case. No one had expected the result. Least of all, Harry, Malfoy, or Cadwallader.
When Harry had heard an additional, much more grisly, unsolved murder had been tied to the man not two months ago, he had shared the news with his partner. He had also mentioned that the next course of action was likely a Dementor's Kiss. Malfoy had only shaken his head and said that the bastard was only getting what was coming to him. He knew his partner was right. But some part of him still insisted that if the situation were to come to that point, then he had be there when justice was served. He thought Malfoy might feel the same. But then, he had been wrong about what else he thought Malfoy might feel. It shouldn't surprise him that he had been wrong about this as well.
"Potter?"
Harry turned toward the door to see Malfoy hesitantly stick his head inside the room. "Oh, you are here."
"Of course I am. Where else would I be?" His conscience would not allow him to skip this. And even though the Ministry had deemed this the proper punishment, Harry still was not certain he could ever really support it.
"Nowhere. Of course. Are you certain you want to put yourself through this?"
"Yes, Malfoy. I'm absolutely certain. This will be over shortly. I'll head back to the office as soon as it's done. Go on. I'll be down soon."
Instead of nodding and ducking back out through the door, Malfoy stepped the rest of the way through and came to stand next to Harry at the window that looked into the chamber. "No."
"No?"
"Yes. I said 'no'. If you mean to put yourself through this, then I will too."
"You don't have to do that."
Malfoy looked at him as if he was studying him. "I know I don't."
It wasn't long before Cadwallader was brought into the chamber on the other side of the glass. He did not fight or struggle. He simply walked to the centre of the room and laid upon the table he was then strapped to. It was so silent in their little room. He actually heard Malfoy blink, a sound Harry was not aware he could identify until now. It was just the two of them in here, though the room was meant to be able to hold an audience of twenty. Harry knew he could lift the silencing spell on the glass and they would be able to hear everything on the other side, but he did not want to. He could only take so much.
"Have you ever seen this happen before?" Malfoy asked quietly beside him.
"Yes. No," he ammended quickly. He had seen it happen to Sirius, but that was before they had gone back with Hermione's Time Turner, so it really hadn't happened, had it? Not to mention that what they had done was probably all sorts of illegal. There were fairly strict rules for Time Turners.
Malfoy had not missed his slip-up. He looked closely at Harry and sighed. "I don't expect you to explain. I was just curious. I've never seen it happen. I don't suppose seeing it once makes it any easier."
Harry rather thought it might actually make it more difficult. "Thank you for not pressing the issue. It's not something I like to remember." He had managed to save Sirius that night, only to watch him die two years later. What good had it really done? The only thing that made this potentially easier to take was that Cadwallader actually earned his fate.
They were both staring straight ahead through the window when the glass frosted at the edges. Malfoy shivered next to him as a chill seeped into the room, and Harry wondered briefly which memories the Dementors forced him to remember. He knew what was coming, but did not produce a Patronus to offset the effect. To his surprise, it was not his mother screaming that filled his head as the Dementor leaned over Cadwallader. There was no sound at all. It was just a montage of faces flashing before him. Snape. Colin. Sirius. Remus. Tonks. Fred. The faces kept coming, and he squeezed his eyes shut against them.
He could not see anything, but he could still feel. The cold crept deep into him, freezing muscles and bone in a combination of chill and dispair. Why had he chosen this profession? He would never be able to live up to expectations, and no matter how many criminals and Dark Wizards he caught, there were always hundreds, thousands more that would ellude him. He had not been able to save so many of those he cared about. When it came down to it, he was a failure. And he was so cold.
Something brushed the hand at his side, and then warm fingers closed around his numb ones. He opened his eyes and saw Malfoy looking not at him, but at the scene in front of them. There were tears on the other man's cheeks, and he looked nearly as miserable as Harry felt. The Dementor, having finished what it came to do, released its Kiss and was led out of the room. Harry expected Malfoy to drop his hand and apologise.
He did no such thing. Instead, he squeezed Harry's hand gently and dug into the pocket of his robes with his free hand. "Here," he said quietly, in a voice that was thick with emotion. "Eat that." Something was placed into the palm of Harry's free hand.
Harry looked at the item and managed a small smile before something hitched in his chest. Chocolate. He thought of the first time he had met Remus, on the train. It still hurt to remember, especially right now. "You meant to stay all along."
"No, Potter. I didn't. I meant to hand this over to you and leave."
"Why didn't you?"
"I don't know." He seemed to realise that there were tears on his face and scrubbed at them with his free hand. "Seriously, Potter. Eat the chocolate." He let go of Harry's hand and shoved his own into his pocket.
Harry unwrapped the chocolate and snapped it in half. He handed one of the pieces back to his partner. "We'll share it."
Malfoy nodded and popped his piece of chocolate into his mouth and watched as Harry did the same. "Thank you." He chewed for a moment, then swallowed. "Look, Potter, I wanted to talk to you."
Harry shook his head. "Not now, Malfoy. Not when we're both still affected by the Dementor. Who knows what mad things we might say. Or do."
His partner looked at him and rubbed his hands together, and Harry knew he had caught his meaning. One desperate moment of trying to find warmth and comfort in the wake of a Dementor. It was a feeble attempt, but it had helped, just for a moment. Harry wanted to thank him for it, but worried it would be a very bad idea, after the events of last night.
Malfoy looked at him hard for a moment. "If you insist."
"I do."
Harry reached for the door to leave, only to have it slam into him. He let out a grunt and stumbled backward into Malfoy, who caught him and held him upright. "What the fuck?" he muttered.
"Whoops," said someone on the other side of the door, and then Nuttcombe stepped forward. "Sorry, Potter. Morgan sent me to retrieve you as soon as you were done here. There's a possible break in the case from last night. Morgan wants us all in the briefing room in five." She looked at them both and cocked her head. Harry thought it made her look like a curious dog. "You two all right?"
"Fine, Nuttcombe," Malfoy said, making a passable attempt at sounding as though he had been completely unaffected by what had gone on in here just minutes before.
"Good. I still can't believe anyone would want to watch one of these things." She shivered. "Out you two get. I'm under orders to make sure you're not late. Again."
Harry opened his mouth to say something, but he caught a shake of Malfoy's head, warning him not to rise to the taunt. Harry almost laughed, only laughter was still a bit beyond him. Imagine, Malfoy being the one to caution him not to lose his temper. He nodded and stepped forward and into the hallway. As they waited for the lift, Harry could have sworn he felt Malfoy's hand at the small of his back, but when he turned to look, his partner's hand was at his side, wand in hand.
Harry sighed. He needed more chocolate.