[Harry Potter] And the Clock Keeps Ticking - Part 5/7
Title: And the Clock Keeps Ticking - Part 5/7
Author: nherizu
Rating: NC17
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco (main), Ron/Hermione, Neville/Hannah, Ginny/OMC.
Summary: Harry Potter knows three things. One, Voldemort can still cause chaos even after his death. Two, Draco Malfoy is one of the last two missing survivors. Three, Harry’s creepy dreams every night are the only key to finding Malfoy. And yet ... maybe Harry shouldn’t be so sure, for the truth about Malfoy is not what he thinks it is.
Warnings/Content Notes: (highlight for details): * Minor character death-despite whatever you may find later in the story, I really meant minor, so don’t worry *winks*. Add a few minor OCs, too, and repeated use of a strong potion (but only for pain relief).*
Word Count: 50,631
Author's Notes: See Part 1. :)
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.
And the Clock Keeps Ticking
Five
When Harry rushed out of the green flames, it was to the sight of Ginny snogging the life out of a brown-haired bloke, on a sofa, naked. Harry stumbled to a stop, horrified. "Er."
"Harry!" Ginny's eyes widened comically, while the bloke under her tried futilely to cover her body with a cushion. "Couldn't you Firecall first?" Ginny's voice was full of disapproval. "Oh, stop it, Neil, it's Harry," she said with a roll of her eyes as if Harry's name was enough of a reason for Neil to stop his attempt. Weirdly, it was.
"I can-um-come back later," Harry offered.
"Nonsense, I need to go anyway, got a lecture at the university," said the bloke-Neil-quickly. He buttoned up his green, wrinkled shirt, offering Harry a wide grin. "Harry Potter, what an odd way to meet."
"Nice to meet . . . you," said Harry sheepishly. "Um, I'm so sorry."
"It's fine, it's fine." Neil waved him off, pecking Ginny on the lips. Ginny, who was fumbling with her pyjamas, still didn't look pleased. "I'll owl you later."
"Right," said Ginny flatly.
Neil grinned at Harry, showing off a dimple in his left cheek and attractive crinkles at the corners of his eyes. His blue eyes reminded Harry of Ron. "See you around, Harry," said Neil before he strode towards the Floo. He mumbled something at the green flames and disappeared a second later. Harry raised his eyebrows upon Ginny's glare.
"So. Neil," said Harry. "Your boss, isn't he?"
"Yes, Neil, my boss, got a problem?" snapped Ginny.
"What? No!" Harry denied straight away. It was a bit weird indeed, seeing his ex-girlfriend with her boss, but-Harry was in no position to say anything, was he? Not when he himself had been caught snogging a bloke at a club by none other than Rita Skeeter and was plastered all over the Daily Prophet's front page. And oh, let's not forget the fact that Harry was now besotted by a ghost-like being. "Er, anyway. I'm not here to talk about that."
"You'd better not," said Ginny brusquely. She rolled her eyes when Harry merely messed his hair awkwardly in response. "Fine, let's talk over tea."
She didn't wait for Harry's answer, spinning on her heels and traversing the short walk to the kitchen.
"I should set up the Floo so people can't come without my approval. Just imagine what'd happen if one of my brothers was the one who saw that," Ginny said, cringing at her own words. "Merlin help me."
"I think that's the first thing you should have done when you decided to rent a flat for privacy," Harry said, remembering his own heavily protected Floo in Grimmauld Place.
"Yeah, I should have." Ginny let out a long, tired sigh. She swished her wand and a tea pot and its cups appeared on the dining table. She must have learnt that spell only recently, for Harry had never seen her do that when they lived together. "Now, what do you want to talk about?" she asked after settling on a chair next to the table.
"Right, I really have to ask you something," said Harry, hurrying to grab the map he got from Mrs Malfoy's secret box out of his robe pocket. He unfolded and set it in front of Ginny. "Do you understand what's in those marked places?"
Ginny scooted the map nearer to her and squinted. "Harberton, Malborough, Modbury, Plymstock . . . hmm, wait, Callington?"
"Yeah, and it's the only one with the blue colour."
"Hmm?" Ginny tilted her head to the side, her forehead wrinkled in concentration. "Harry, that blue mark is what Neil usually uses in order to Portkey us to secret locations."
"What?" Harry's heart rate increased. "It's a Portkey?"
"Not exactly, but it works like a Portkey. It's a difficult spell, only a few people in our field know how to use it. But it can connect you to a location if done right, and it doesn't need to be registered at the Ministry, and it can't be tracked like Apparition can. Sometimes Neil has to use this spell if he doesn't want to get caught while inspecting a site." Ginny paused, studying the other marked places. "The green marks don't mean anything but for-well, marks."
"How does the spell work?"
"Just mark the map like this, and then repeat the incantation to whoever you want to Portkey, including yourself. It requires a great deal of concentration, or else you'll end up somewhere you don't want to be," explained Ginny. "Because, see, the map isn't detailed. It's easier if you have a more detailed map, but that'd enable other people to find you easily-which you don't want to happen when you're sneaking into somewhere forbidden."
"I see, that makes sense," said Harry, remembering the escaping drug dealer who remained untraceable. "Do you know what's in those places and what's in Callington that's not in the other places?"
"Callington has Malfoy," said Ginny, narrowing her eyes. "It's about what I told you before, right? You did find Malfoy there, didn't you?"
"Ginny!"
"Why?" asked Ginny. "You owe me at least an explanation!"
Harry bit the inside of his lower lip, unsure of what he should say and what he shouldn't. But Ginny was right-he should tell her if he wanted her help. "I didn't find Malfoy in Callington. It was a different person, namely Ian Raines."
Ginny's jaw dropped at the revelation. "What? No, I'm sure he's Malfoy!"
"Malfoy wouldn't wear those off-the-peg outfits," Harry pointed out.
"He did seem a bit . . . wild . . . but that only makes sense. He's a fugitive!"
"He's not," said Harry. "We're only searching for him so we can help him escape Voldemort's curse."
"Then why are you asking about Callington now?"
"Because it has something to do with the real Malfoy," said Harry reluctantly. Ginny stared back at him with barely concealed suspicion.
"Harry, you do realise that you're making no sense here-"
"I can explain, but not right now, Ginny. Please?"
Ginny opened her mouth for several seconds, looking like she was about to say something, but thought better of it. In the end, she relented, "Fine, but you still owe me an explanation."
"After everything's finished. I promise," said Harry.
Ginny sighed, scratching her head. "Yeah, all right, Harry. Anyway, speaking of Malfoy . . ." She didn't finish her sentence, instead sucking her left inner cheek in thought. "Yes, that's it, I think I know what's in those places."
"Really?"
"Accio Getting to Know Old Wizarding Families," said Ginny. A moment later a thick, black covered tome was in Ginny's hands. "Here, there's a chapter about the Malfoys." She flicked through the pages, while Harry tried to read over her shoulder. "There. This is the part where they describe the Malfoys' properties through generations."
"Longdown, Modbury, Harberton, Malborough, Plymstock . . ." read Harry, widening his eyes. "So those are the places where the Malfoys built their other houses?"
"Well, not always houses. There are also prisons and quarantines for squibs, werewolves, criminals, war prisoners or family members that brought shame to the name-oh, please don't look like that, Harry. All old families had them, they were built when the situation was very different compared to now. I doubt the families still use them, they're usually so heavily warded that even the family heir has to go through certain rituals if they want to be accepted into the wards."
"Do the Weasleys have them, too, then?" Harry asked cynically.
Ginny snorted. "Even if we did, we probably have sold them all ages ago."
"Okay," Harry said. "It's better not to have them anyway."
"Yes, of course. But that's not really the point. What we should be concerned about is that Callington isn't listed here."
"It's not?" Harry asked, surprised.
"So it's not a question of what's in Callington that's not in other places-but what's in other places that's not in Callington."
"What then?" Harry wanted to tear his hair out in frustration.
"But . . ." Ginny tapped her lips with the tip of her wand, thinking. "St Dominic is near to Callington."
"What?"
"Here." Ginny pointed at the map, where a small dot was named St Dominic. "There's a property of the Malfoys in this place." She checked the information on the book and nodded in satisfaction. "Yes, apparently this one used to be a place where the Malfoys' squibs lived in the nineteenth century."
"So they were exiled there," said Harry in disgust.
"Yes, and so I was thinking . . . what if whoever used this Portkey spell originally wanted to mark St Dominic but made a mistake and marked Callington instead? They're really close in this map."
"A clumsy mistake, it's unlikely for-" Harry paused, his mind starting to catch up.
Was it really unlikely for Mrs Malfoy to make that small mistake? She was forced to do everything in secret while trying to cure her son and facing Aurors every day. It was possible that she was in a hurry when she hid the map and had to perform the ritual. After all, it made sense if she had chosen St Dominic for the new Malfoy. If it was used by the Malfoys' squibs, there must have been things that would help Malfoy survive when he woke up. Perhaps she had even prepared everything for her spoilt son there. Alas, Malfoy had ended up in Callington instead, and nearly died of starvation.
"Ginny, you're brilliant," said Harry, pleased that at least one more mystery about Malfoy and Raines had been solved. Not that Harry was sure his hypothesis was correct, but at least it rang the truest so far.
"I'm surprised you didn't realise it sooner," said Ginny, a smirk forming on her lips.
But Harry couldn't care less-his mind was already trying to figure out what he should do next. He knew the complete steps to perform the ritual after his discovery of Mrs Malfoy's box. Now he only had to find out how to reverse it. But if he did, Malfoy's Dark Mark would start to react again and that would be the end. But he couldn't leave it like this, because Malfoy was-
Potter, promise me.
Harry gritted his teeth, trying to block out Malfoy's voice from replaying again and again in his head and failing.
"Harry?"
Harry took a shuddering breath, biting his lip. Ginny studied him closely.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked. "Is it Malfoy? Is it that bloke in Callington? Is it . . . someone else?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You want an honest answer?" Ginny raised an eyebrow. "You look miserable. Not just miserable, actually. You look like you're in love and miserable."
"I'm not in love," said Harry through gritted teeth.
"I know you more than you know yourself then." Ginny shrugged. "Why the denial?"
'Because I can't be in love with him' was already on the tip of his tongue, but instead he simply said, "I'm just not. Just leave it." Ginny seemed to disagree, though she didn't voice it. Harry took the map from under her hand and nodded briefly. "Thank you, Gin, you have no idea-"
"Oh, don't worry, I didn't do it for free anyway. I was bored, but now I can look forward to the interesting story you owe me." Ginny flashed a knowing grin. Harry couldn't help but snort a laugh.
"Sure, I still thank you, though," said Harry before he left.
. .
. .
Harry was nearly asleep when someone nudged his leg. He jerked up, blinking the blur away from his eyes. Raines was staring down at him, his trainer still attached to Harry's calf.
"Why are you sleeping here?"
Harry took a moment to organise his befuddled mind, taking in his surroundings. He was sitting on the stairs that led towards Raines' flat, sagging against the cracking wall. "Um," he said, embarrassed. "I was waiting for you."
"Really, wow, I never could have guessed," said Raines sarcastically. He pulled out his key from inside his pocket and walked past Harry. "After your last stunt, I don't know why I should invite you in again."
Harry stood up, looking away. "You don't have to, but . . ."
"But I'll still do, anyway," finished Raines. He opened the door and signalled Harry to come inside with a jerk of his chin. Harry followed.
"Thanks."
Raines closed the door and turned the lamp on. Harry shuffled towards the sofa, not bothering to take his coat off. Raines shrugged his own coat off, hanging it at the door.
"Harry Potter," he said, half-throwing himself to sit beside Harry. "So, what's up?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing," repeated Raines.
"I just want to-know you."
"Ah, you want to know me because I can never be your boyfriend from the past."
"Look." Harry sighed. "I'm really sorry, I was so confused last time."
"I know," said Raines, grabbing for a cigarette and a lighter. "What made you think I wasn't as confused, if not more?"
"That's why I'm so sorry."
"What's done is done, I guess," Raines said, shrugging. He offered a cigarette to Harry, but Harry shook his head. Raines shrugged again and began taking a long drag. "I've given up on searching about my past anyway."
"I can . . ." Harry paused to take a deep breath. "I can tell you things, but not too detailed. I can't."
"Like what?"
"That we were . . . in the same school from when we were eleven. And that we hated each other," said Harry. "You were a pointy git and I couldn't stand you."
"Let's see." Raines pretended to be deep in thought. "If I was a pointy git, then you were a specky git who pranced around the school like you owned it?"
Harry spluttered. That almost sounded like Malfoy.
"Don't get all worked up just yet, I haven't remembered anything. It's just easy to imagine you like that with all the strutting you did in the orphanage and around my flat," said Raines with a grin. "What, did I nail it?"
"No." Harry scowled. "It's just he used to say the same thing."
"Bingo." Raines took a long, satisfied drag of his cigarette. "Anything else you can tell me?"
Harry watched him blowing out the smoke, watching the lips curled around the cigarette and the slim fingers holding it loosely. His hair seemed lighter under the yellow lamp, messy but attractive at the same time. His pores were visible around his high cheekbones, exactly like Malfoy's. Raines' eyes slid towards him, light grey and clear just like how he remembered them, but lacking the shadow and anguish that hid beneath during the war. It was all so real and solid and Harry didn't have to squint to get a better look because those eyes weren't transparent like the current Malfoy's.
"Raines," Harry called out, startled at his own voice when he realised that it was his first time calling him by name. "Raines."
"Yes, Harry Potter," said Raines, dipping his head a little to look at Harry more closely. "What is it?"
"I can," said Harry, licking his lips, "I can tell you things-but you have to believe them."
"Things like . . . ?"
"Like-magic."
Raines raised an eyebrow, looking askance. "Like pulling a bunny out of a hat? Or some card tricks?"
"No. Like flying on a broom."
Raines studied him even closer, his expression unreadable and Harry wondered if he should draw back a little. But Raines laughed suddenly, clutching at his stomach, forehead nearly touching Harry's shoulder. The scent of Muggle soap Harry didn't remember the brand of wafted, as Raines shook, his fringe lightly caressing Harry's neck. "Oh my God, Harry Potter," said Raines, still laughing. It took Harry a moment to realise that it wasn't a real laugh. "You're mocking my dream."
"What-"
"I think," said Raines, looking straight into Harry's eyes. "You should go home now."
"I wasn't mocking you! I told you, you have to believe-"
"O-kay." Raines rolled his eyes. "You not wanting me to replace your precious man is one thing, but you don't have to rub it in my face, you know."
"Merlin, can't you just listen to me?" Harry resisted the impulse to shout. "If you want to know about your past, then you must accept magic, because you were a wiz-"
The lips that were moving on his own made him swallow the rest of the words. Raines hands were on Harry's shoulders, gripping so tight they started to hurt. His teeth scraped at Harry's lower lip, his tongue teasing alternately. Harry could only stared blankly at the wall behind Raines' shoulder, his jaw slack and arms limp on his lap.
"I can't take it any longer," said Raines, louder than a whisper but softer than he ever talked before. He pushed Harry gently, a bitter smile on his lips. "You can't accept me. Don't force yourself."
Harry couldn't say anything. How could he?
"Leave. Please," said Raines as he straightened up on his seat, finding the wall across from him fascinating. His elbows rested on his knees, fingers squeezing one another. Harry knew they were trembling, but it was the way Raines tried hard not to look at Harry, the way he told Harry with a steady voice, "Please," that made Harry's face hot and his eyes prickle.
The way Raines and Malfoy both tried to cope in their own unique way. The way they both kept reminding Harry how utterly stupid and selfish he was. Harry shut his eyes for a moment, trying to breathe and just breathe.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so . . ."
Raines didn't respond, nor did Harry wait for him to say anything. Harry just left, not even remembering if he had waited until he was in an out-of-the way spot before Apparating.
By the time Harry regained control over his own emotions, he was already standing in front of Malfoy. The curtains in Malfoy's parents' chamber were only half-drawn, giving way to the afternoon sun to shower Malfoy's form in translucent golden light. Harry squinted, trying to make out all the lines and angles-because this was Malfoy. This was the person he wanted to see always. Always.
"I want you," said Harry. "I want you like-like I never . . ."
"Potter-"
"I hated you, and I still do, but I want you."
"Potter, did something happen?"
Harry didn't answer. Instead he pulled Malfoy, crushing their lips together. It was cold, and tingly, and weird because it was like kissing a stone with an ever present breeze caressing the skin of his lips. Yet Harry pushed harder, wondering if it was possible to taste Malfoy's tongue. Before it could happen, however, Malfoy stopped him. It wasn't gentle, but it wasn't harsh either. Malfoy pushed at Harry's chest, his eyes questioning but his lips remaining closed.
"I can't," Harry said in response. "I tried. I promise, I tried."
"What do you want then?" asked Malfoy softly.
"You," said Harry. "Just you."
Malfoy caressed his knuckles over Harry's cheek, his eyes following the trace of his fingers. Harry knew it should be cold, but the thrills that ran through his veins and his heartbeats that sounded so loud made him warm all over.
"All right," said Malfoy eventually. He kissed Harry, still icy but slower. "Come to bed."
Harry opened his mouth wordlessly. Nonetheless he followed Malfoy's lead, self-consciously removing his coat. "Can you-"
"I'm magic, Potter. Not a ghost."
"Okay," said Harry, not taking his eyes off him, as Malfoy began stripping on the bed. The clothes shimmered and disappeared once his hands dropped them. The trail of a scar on Malfoy's chest looked both translucent and silvery. Harry forced himself not to tear his eyes away from the reminder of his past stupidity.
"What are you waiting for?" asked Malfoy. He removed the last piece of his clothing and smirked. Harry swallowed, clumsily starting to undo his shirt and jeans. When he climbed onto the bed, he knew somewhere inside his mind he was screaming to stop, knew Malfoy must be planning something, for there was no way it could be this easy. But Harry couldn't bring himself to care-not right now.
Malfoy lay back, pulling Harry with him. He let Harry stroke his collarbone, kissing his neck and earlobe. "Potter, touch me. More."
Harry spread his hands over Malfoy's chest, noting the way the white sheet beneath made Malfoy's skin look terribly pale. But no, it didn't matter because it was Malfoy. It didn't matter, so Harry continued, running his fingers everywhere he could reach. Malfoy smiled at him, watching Harry's fingers went further south.
As Harry finally touched Malfoy's cock, it was hard and dry. He could see his own fingers through it. Harry stared, forcing himself not to listen to the voices in his head and just let Malfoy's fingers in his hair guide him. Closing his eyes, Harry dipped lower and took Malfoy into his mouth.
It was cold. Still cold. And there wasn't any taste, or any scent. But it was Malfoy. It should be what he wanted, it should feel right. And yet it all felt wrong.
Harry choked, taking it out of his mouth. He blinked and blinked, his face hot as though someone had just slapped him repeatedly. Breathing hard, he wanted desperately to curse the world. Malfoy's fingers that had clutched at his hair tightly before, were now caressing him, gently steering him to sit.
"Potter," said Malfoy, and it was all it took for Harry to break down. He buried his face in the crook of Malfoy's neck, letting the cold seep into his skin. He even prayed that the cold would be able to freeze his idiotic brain. He sobbed, knowing the warmth on his cheeks that was in contrast to the rest of his body inside Malfoy's embrace was tears.
You'll understand someday that I'm not the Draco Malfoy you want.
Harry wanted to laugh at himself. Because this time Malfoy was right.
. .
. .
"Isn't that exciting?" Hermione's voice went in and out of Harry's ears unnoticed. Ron was looking at him funny, as Harry shredded a napkin onto his empty plate. "Harry?"
"Yeah?" Harry answered without looking up. He could picture Hermione's expression accurately anyway.
"I was just saying that we've found the spell to stop the curse from spreading. Aren't you happy?"
"Why should I?" shrugged Harry. "It's only temporary, isn't it?"
"Yes, but it's progress! We'll find a way to stop it completely soon!"
"I thought you wanted to help Malfoy, mate," said Ron uneasily.
Harry snorted. "Yeah, right."
Malfoy's body was already safe and sound in a Muggle town, and his magic would forever haunt the Manor. What could a single paralysing spell do to make the situation better?
"You're infuriating," said Hermione. "You don't even want to talk to us anymore."
"Exactly what she said," Ron agreed. "We know something happened to you."
"Look, I'm fine, all right? I'm just not in the mood to talk," said Harry, sighing. He rubbed his eyelids and fixed his glasses again. "It's almost time, anyway. We've got a stakeout, Ron."
Ron groaned. "Don't remind me."
"But Luna's still not here," protested Hermione. "We promised to have lunch together."
"I'm sorry but you know how testy Robards will get if we're late," Harry pointed out.
Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, something that Harry found aggravating because they seemed to be on good terms only when they wanted to corner him.
"Promise me you'll be careful," said Hermione gravely.
"Hermione, it's only a stake-"
"You still have to be careful." Hermione tutted. "You've been so distracted lately, it's just not right, Harry."
"It's not like Robards'll give us an important case," said Harry sarcastically.
"As much as it pains me, I think Harry's right," Ron agreed miserably. "No important cases for us, aside from hunting down the ferret's arse, that is."
"Oh, honestly." Hermione huffed. "I think you both need to stop whining about that."
"Easy for you to say, isn't it? What with working on Level One and all," retorted Ron. Harry wanted to crack the table with his forehead. This wouldn't end well-a sulky Ron would rattle on about how selfish Hermione was for only thinking about her job all the time. A snappy Hermione would divert her full attention to Harry and lecture him on every single thing. That would go on and on for a week or worse, a month. Harry didn't need that now of all times.
"I'm off first. See you on location, Ron," said Harry quickly, halting what was no doubt a furious comeback from Hermione. He stood up and nearly collided with Luna when he spun around.
"Hello, Harry, did a Crumpeerunky bite you? You don't look very well."
"No, Luna, the Crambyhunky didn't think I was tasty enough," Harry snapped before he could bite his tongue. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," he amended, feeling guilty.
"It's all right, I'm happy enough you want to try to understand Crumpeerunkies. It's like having a friend to talk to about hobbies," said Luna, smiling dazedly. Harry still found himself at a loss whenever Luna talked that way even after all these years knowing her.
"Believe me I'd love to talk about hobbies with you," said Harry uncomfortably. "I just-um. Need to go."
"It's fine, Harry. You'd better not let me stop you," said Luna. "Hello, Hermione, Ron."
A grunt from Ron and an awkward greeting from Hermione sounded behind him. Harry prayed to whatever deity that they both forgot their impending argument because of Luna. He didn't bother to glance back, though.
Continuing his walk out of the small Muggle restaurant, Harry paused in his tracks when he thought he saw something glistening from the corner of his eye. He studied the spot, but there wasn't anything out of place, only a couple of Muggles chatting on the pavement. Shaking his head, he shrugged it off to find an Apparition point.
The stakeout was mostly boring. Harry and Ron were to ambush a group of teenagers who escaped from Hogwarts and thought they could make money by selling handmade lube to Muggles. Unfortunately, their creation was more like glue rather than lube. The victims were mostly young, gay teenagers-those who were still afraid and shy to buy lube in pharmacies or other shops, and chose to trust slightly older teenagers instead.
Their factory was a deserted building on the edge of Muggle London. Harry and Ron hid in the opposite building, waiting for the members of the group to gather. Robards didn't quite trust Harry and Ron, hence he ordered them to call for reinforcements once the teenagers assembled. But Ron had another idea.
"They're teenagers, they look like a collection of Dennis Creeveys," said Ron, peeking through the dusty curtains at the window. "We can take care of them."
"So we can impress Robards?"
"Why else?"
"Wouldn't he be more livid if he found out we disobeyed him?" Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"He won't if we succeed," said Ron, grinning. "Come on, Harry. We faced Death Eaters. We can't lose against a group of kids. This is our only chance."
"I don't think we need to duel or anything. I don't want to hurt-" Harry halted his speech, his eyes wildly searching the abandoned room.
"Mate?"
"I thought I saw something . . ." Harry muttered, furrowing his brow after a fruitless search. "Never mind, must be my imagination."
"You sure you're okay?" asked Ron. He appeared to be worried, but before he could ask further, the last kid they had been waiting for finally came. "Here he is, Harry!"
Harry peeked through the other side of the curtains. The kid greeted his mates, before they all filed inside the building together. Harry nodded at Ron. "Yeah, ready for this?"
"Of course. Let's go."
Harry spelled his shoes so there wouldn't be any noise and watched Ron do the same. They sneaked out of their hiding place and into the opposite building, carefully checking for any wards. The culprits were still children who hadn't even finished their education, though, so Harry didn't find any. Tiptoeing up the stairs, Harry brought his forefinger to his lips and glanced over his shoulder at Ron when he heard the chattering upstairs.
"On three," mouthed Harry, and Ron answered by adjusting the wand in his grip. Harry counted with his fingers soundlessly. Once the third finger was raised, they stormed up the remaining stairs and broke into the only door there. The kids jumped onto their feet, some of them swearing in surprise.
"Auror. Drop your wands," warned Harry, pointing his wand in the general direction of the kids. Ron proceeded to take his position opposite of Harry, by the window, attempting to cut off any escape routes. The kids, five in total, stared at them in horror. Three of them let their wands fall onto the floor, while the remaining two still couldn't overcome their shock. Harry scanned the room, taking in all the evidence-tubes of the illegal lube scattered on the desk at the centre of the room.
"Incarcerous," Ron cast at the same time as Harry said, "Expelliarmus!" The three kids without wands were immediately huddled together on the floor, tied with Ron's rope. A light brown wand shot up into Harry's hand, and he was about to cast another Disarming Spell at the last kid, when everything went pear-shaped.
The kid, pushed by fear at being caught, swished his wand in a pattern Harry fervently hoped wasn't what he thought it was. But the word that slipped out of his mouth crushed Harry's hope-he widened his eyes in fright. He could hear Ron swear, just as a beast with a lion head and a tail like a snake roared from the kid's wand, sweeping everything it touched with bluish red flames.
"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," Harry cursed vehemently, dodging the growing limbs of the beast. "Ron, it's a Chimaera," he shouted when the Chimaera's claws burned the curtains on the window. Ron leapt to the side, nearly bumping into the screaming kids on the floor. "Take them out! Apparate!"
"Bloody hell, I should have thought one experience with Fiendfyre is enough for a lifetime," yelled Ron, trying to envelope the three kids with his arms. The other kid, the one Harry had just disarmed, was edging towards Ron, sobbing. Harry rolled on the floor, the Chimaera hot on his trail. "Harry, let's go, we'll call for help!"
"We can't leave the fire, it'll burn the neighbourhood!"
"We can-oh, bleeding hell, Harry!"
Ron's alarmed shout made Harry snap his face towards the trembling kid in the centre of the room, his wand shaking in his hand. The Chimaera's tail crashed against the table, sending debris and sparks of fire towards the kid. Harry's mind replayed how Ron said Crabbe was dead all those year ago, as Malfoy slumped and choked on Crabbe's name again and again outside the Room of Requirement. Harry's lungs constricted and his heart hammered so hard it was painful. History wasn't supposed to repeat itself. No, everything should have ended when Voldemort died. Everything.
Running as fast as he could, Harry tackled the kid to the floor. A piece of burning wood from the table smacked him on the back and Harry screamed, trying to shield the kid from the raging fire with his body. The Chimaera roared, the crackles from its fire drowning any other voices. Harry swallowed back a whimper, hugging the kid tighter with his eyes clenched shut when he sensed another blow of fire coming towards him again. But instead, he felt something cold brush soothingly against the skin of his back, before a freezing, angry wind whirled around him.
Harry opened his eyes, desperately wishing whoever was behind him to be not the person he thought it was. But just like everything that had happened in his life, of course it would be Draco Malfoy sheltering him from the fuming fire. The sight of his see-through body engulfed by the fire, the wind around him slowly making every lick of flame freeze and crack, caused Harry's heart to be stuck in his throat.
"Malfoy-"
"Apparate out, Potter!" Malfoy's voice had an urgency that sent chills down Harry's spine. His stomach turned cold as dread consumed him faster and faster.
"You're not staying, are-"
"The kid, Potter," bellowed Malfoy between the Chimaera's howls, its breath of fire making Harry close his eyes instinctively. "Take the kids out! Weasley!"
Harry looked up at Ron. Smoke was making it hard to see, but Harry could make out how Ron's eyes were bulging in shock at the sight of Malfoy, the four kids plastering themselves to his body. He then nodded at Harry determinedly. Harry swore, sensing the kid beneath him shaking violently. Glancing one last time at Malfoy, now almost unseen completely, Harry stilled himself and Apparated.
Outside, Harry coughed and dragged the kid towards the opposite building. Ron was already there before him, trying to soothe the panicking kids tugging at his arms.
"Ron, tell Robards! We need help!"
"You're coming, too," said Ron, his eyes wide with suspicion.
"Take him." Harry pushed the kid towards Ron. "I'll go find Malfoy."
"No, Harry, you're not going back there!" Ron grabbed Harry's arm. Harry felt his legs shaking and he had trouble to even breathe, but Malfoy was-
"I can't leave him there!"
"But he's not even human, is he?" said Ron, tightening his grip. "He's all transparent, is he a ghost?"
"He's not a ghost, and let me go, Ron," hissed Harry. His whole face was hot, he didn't even care if tears began to well in his eyes. "He's not dead and if he is because I can't help him, I'll blame you!"
Ron looked as if he was smacked in the face. "Harry, you-"
"Ron-"
An explosion interrupted them, hot and cold waves mingled from the building behind them. The smoke made the air outside heavy and Harry's eyes hurt from squinting. Standing rooted to the pavement, he couldn't even order his feet to move. Ron's grip on his arm tightened even more. The flames had died, from the look of it, and the building didn't collapse, but Harry thought it was only just. A window frame flew into the air, traces of fire still visible before they disappeared as the frame crashed onto the street. Harry didn't know when, but Muggles had gathered around them when he could breathe again, the smoke thinning. However the only thing he could think of was Malfoy.
"Harry," called Ron, pulling him close. "Harry? Oh, bloody hell, Muggles. We should-"
"Malfoy," said Harry, though he could hardly hear his own voice. Everything felt numb, the world tilted in his vision. He blinked the moisture forming in his eyes away to no avail-the building looked blurrier with every blink he took. "Oh God, Ron, Malfoy, we left him . . ."
Harry started to draw his arm from Ron's hand, needing to go, to check if Malfoy was still inside, but Ron yanked him back. "No, it'll cave in. Malfoy's not there."
"How could you be so sure?" Harry asked, anger boiling in the pit of his stomach. "I told you, didn't I, if Malfoy died, I'd blame-"
"Who fucking cares?" shouted Ron suddenly. "If you died, I'd blame myself!"
Harry stared at him in shock, his mouth hung open. It was as if someone had just stabbed him with a giant knife in the guts.
"You're coming with us. We'll do something about Malfoy's ghost later," said Ron again. He gestured to the kids to follow him, hooking his arm around Harry's shoulders. He led them all to find a secluded spot. He was in the process of ordering all the kids to hold onto him, when Harry took the opportunity to jerk away from Ron.
"Ha-"
"Sorry, Ron," said Harry, pleading with his eyes, before he ran back towards the building. He heard Ron swearing, but Harry couldn't shake off the feeling that he needed to see Malfoy. He could deal with Ron later, he could even beg for forgiveness for being a prat later. But this couldn't wait for later. It didn't matter that his instinct was usually wrong-he even wished it would be wrong this time. Still, nothing could make him stop from galloping back into the building, not even the screaming Muggles. His lungs protested from the thick smoke inside.
The stairs had fallen down halfway, soot in drifts at every corner. It was probably a good thing it was a deserted building with very little furniture remaining, otherwise it would have been a lot worse. Harry impatiently tried to search for another way to go upstairs, some emergency exits or anything. But he couldn't find any, so he settled with shouting, "Malfoy!"
No answer came. Harry messed his hair, his throat dry as he continued to shout. "Malfoy, for Merlin's sake, answer!"
It was still silent-Harry hated silence, hated everything in this world now. He began to sense a sob vibrating in his chest, but he swallowed it down. He scrubbed at his eyes, his glasses layered with soot. He counted to ten, willing himself to calm down even though he wanted nothing more than to throw up from the sickening realisation that once again, Malfoy might be-
A cold wind embraced him, easing the burning wound at his back away, as Harry felt more than saw arms circling his waist from behind. "Potter," said Malfoy, his lips brushing against Harry's jaw. "No casualties, are there?"
Relief flooded over him, and Harry almost lost his footing.
"Malf-" He couldn't resist the choke that escaped his lips. "I thought-you were-oh God." He claimed Malfoy's arms with his hands. "Oh God, I thought . . ."
"I don't want anyone to die from that thing," said Malfoy. His embrace was starting to hurt, but Harry didn't care. "Again."
"I don't want you to die," said Harry. He shut his eyes, biting his trembling lip. "Why did you follow me?"
"I've been doing it for days," admitted Malfoy. "You've been so distracted ever since that day I . . ." He trailed off, loosening his hold against Harry's waist instead so Harry could breathe again. "I thought it wouldn't be safe for you to be out on missions while you're in such state."
Harry tried to swallow, but it was hard when his chest felt so heavy. The whole situation was just so poignant that Harry didn't know if he was sad or glad for all the things Malfoy had done. He took a deep breath, looking down to calm himself, but startled when he saw Malfoy's arms upon his stomach.
They were so light, so transparent that they didn't even have colour anymore. Not even the greys and blacks Harry had been so accustomed to seeing.
"What's happening to you?" asked Harry. A horrible suspicion formed in the pit of his stomach, nagging at him. "Why are you so transparent?"
Malfoy didn't answer for what seemed like forever until Harry wanted to turn around and challenge him. But he couldn't bring himself to do that-he couldn't look at Malfoy when he knew what he would see would destroy him. When Malfoy spoke, his voice was so quiet Harry could barely hear it, "The only reason I could win over the Fiendfyre is because I don't have a vessel."
". . . and?" Harry forced himself to speak.
"I'm pure magic-that makes me stronger than any wizard. But . . ."
"What? But what?"
"But not having a vessel means I can't take a rest. I can't make my body recover the magic inside. I don't have the core every wizard has-"
"Are you telling me that you're going to disappear?" Harry asked, his nails digging into Malfoy's arms, though he knew Malfoy wouldn't feel anything. "You're going to vanish because you don't have a body, is that it?"
Malfoy was quiet again for a moment, before he nodded against Harry's cheek. "Yes."
Harry wanted to laugh at the irony. Why did everything have to end like this? Why did everything he did for Malfoy's sake always end up with him losing Malfoy instead? God, this was a horrible joke. This was the result of his stupidity for having stayed idle and sceptical for so long. Three and a half years he could have done something to stop the catastrophe Voldemort had left behind. Three and a half years he could have done something to help Malfoy. But he didn't, and now he got what he deserved. Nevertheless Malfoy didn't deserve this-he shouldn't have died, magically or not.
"I'm not letting you." Harry clenched his jaw. He turned around and caught Malfoy's hands as they dropped from around his waist. "I'll find a way."
"Potter." Malfoy sighed, his eyes bitter. Harry had to will himself not to break down at the sight. Malfoy was barely visible, barely existing . . .
"Please. Just give me time. Please," Harry pleaded, not caring if his voice had come out shaky. Malfoy flickered, nearly vanishing completely. Harry's fingers gripped the air once Malfoy's hands slipped out of them. The realisation that Malfoy couldn't even keep his form solid hit Harry hard. But he could do this. He must do this. "I'll be back. Trust me. I'll be back."
"Potter, I-" Harry didn't want to hear him out. He whirled around, running towards the exit, when he heard Malfoy call him once more, "Harry, wait."
The name Malfoy called him with made him do just that-wait. ". . . Yeah?"
"I'll be . . . in the Manor," said Malfoy. He held Harry's eyes, his expression showed that he knew something Harry didn't, again, and Harry hated that. "Come when you're ready," finished Malfoy before he disappeared entirely.
Harry took several seconds to collect himself together, to assure himself that Malfoy hadn't disappeared for good. Taking a deep breath, he Apparated to where the only person who could help him would be.
. .
Six
. .
Author: nherizu
Rating: NC17
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco (main), Ron/Hermione, Neville/Hannah, Ginny/OMC.
Summary: Harry Potter knows three things. One, Voldemort can still cause chaos even after his death. Two, Draco Malfoy is one of the last two missing survivors. Three, Harry’s creepy dreams every night are the only key to finding Malfoy. And yet ... maybe Harry shouldn’t be so sure, for the truth about Malfoy is not what he thinks it is.
Warnings/Content Notes: (highlight for details): * Minor character death-despite whatever you may find later in the story, I really meant minor, so don’t worry *winks*. Add a few minor OCs, too, and repeated use of a strong potion (but only for pain relief).*
Word Count: 50,631
Author's Notes: See Part 1. :)
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.
And the Clock Keeps Ticking
Five
When Harry rushed out of the green flames, it was to the sight of Ginny snogging the life out of a brown-haired bloke, on a sofa, naked. Harry stumbled to a stop, horrified. "Er."
"Harry!" Ginny's eyes widened comically, while the bloke under her tried futilely to cover her body with a cushion. "Couldn't you Firecall first?" Ginny's voice was full of disapproval. "Oh, stop it, Neil, it's Harry," she said with a roll of her eyes as if Harry's name was enough of a reason for Neil to stop his attempt. Weirdly, it was.
"I can-um-come back later," Harry offered.
"Nonsense, I need to go anyway, got a lecture at the university," said the bloke-Neil-quickly. He buttoned up his green, wrinkled shirt, offering Harry a wide grin. "Harry Potter, what an odd way to meet."
"Nice to meet . . . you," said Harry sheepishly. "Um, I'm so sorry."
"It's fine, it's fine." Neil waved him off, pecking Ginny on the lips. Ginny, who was fumbling with her pyjamas, still didn't look pleased. "I'll owl you later."
"Right," said Ginny flatly.
Neil grinned at Harry, showing off a dimple in his left cheek and attractive crinkles at the corners of his eyes. His blue eyes reminded Harry of Ron. "See you around, Harry," said Neil before he strode towards the Floo. He mumbled something at the green flames and disappeared a second later. Harry raised his eyebrows upon Ginny's glare.
"So. Neil," said Harry. "Your boss, isn't he?"
"Yes, Neil, my boss, got a problem?" snapped Ginny.
"What? No!" Harry denied straight away. It was a bit weird indeed, seeing his ex-girlfriend with her boss, but-Harry was in no position to say anything, was he? Not when he himself had been caught snogging a bloke at a club by none other than Rita Skeeter and was plastered all over the Daily Prophet's front page. And oh, let's not forget the fact that Harry was now besotted by a ghost-like being. "Er, anyway. I'm not here to talk about that."
"You'd better not," said Ginny brusquely. She rolled her eyes when Harry merely messed his hair awkwardly in response. "Fine, let's talk over tea."
She didn't wait for Harry's answer, spinning on her heels and traversing the short walk to the kitchen.
"I should set up the Floo so people can't come without my approval. Just imagine what'd happen if one of my brothers was the one who saw that," Ginny said, cringing at her own words. "Merlin help me."
"I think that's the first thing you should have done when you decided to rent a flat for privacy," Harry said, remembering his own heavily protected Floo in Grimmauld Place.
"Yeah, I should have." Ginny let out a long, tired sigh. She swished her wand and a tea pot and its cups appeared on the dining table. She must have learnt that spell only recently, for Harry had never seen her do that when they lived together. "Now, what do you want to talk about?" she asked after settling on a chair next to the table.
"Right, I really have to ask you something," said Harry, hurrying to grab the map he got from Mrs Malfoy's secret box out of his robe pocket. He unfolded and set it in front of Ginny. "Do you understand what's in those marked places?"
Ginny scooted the map nearer to her and squinted. "Harberton, Malborough, Modbury, Plymstock . . . hmm, wait, Callington?"
"Yeah, and it's the only one with the blue colour."
"Hmm?" Ginny tilted her head to the side, her forehead wrinkled in concentration. "Harry, that blue mark is what Neil usually uses in order to Portkey us to secret locations."
"What?" Harry's heart rate increased. "It's a Portkey?"
"Not exactly, but it works like a Portkey. It's a difficult spell, only a few people in our field know how to use it. But it can connect you to a location if done right, and it doesn't need to be registered at the Ministry, and it can't be tracked like Apparition can. Sometimes Neil has to use this spell if he doesn't want to get caught while inspecting a site." Ginny paused, studying the other marked places. "The green marks don't mean anything but for-well, marks."
"How does the spell work?"
"Just mark the map like this, and then repeat the incantation to whoever you want to Portkey, including yourself. It requires a great deal of concentration, or else you'll end up somewhere you don't want to be," explained Ginny. "Because, see, the map isn't detailed. It's easier if you have a more detailed map, but that'd enable other people to find you easily-which you don't want to happen when you're sneaking into somewhere forbidden."
"I see, that makes sense," said Harry, remembering the escaping drug dealer who remained untraceable. "Do you know what's in those places and what's in Callington that's not in the other places?"
"Callington has Malfoy," said Ginny, narrowing her eyes. "It's about what I told you before, right? You did find Malfoy there, didn't you?"
"Ginny!"
"Why?" asked Ginny. "You owe me at least an explanation!"
Harry bit the inside of his lower lip, unsure of what he should say and what he shouldn't. But Ginny was right-he should tell her if he wanted her help. "I didn't find Malfoy in Callington. It was a different person, namely Ian Raines."
Ginny's jaw dropped at the revelation. "What? No, I'm sure he's Malfoy!"
"Malfoy wouldn't wear those off-the-peg outfits," Harry pointed out.
"He did seem a bit . . . wild . . . but that only makes sense. He's a fugitive!"
"He's not," said Harry. "We're only searching for him so we can help him escape Voldemort's curse."
"Then why are you asking about Callington now?"
"Because it has something to do with the real Malfoy," said Harry reluctantly. Ginny stared back at him with barely concealed suspicion.
"Harry, you do realise that you're making no sense here-"
"I can explain, but not right now, Ginny. Please?"
Ginny opened her mouth for several seconds, looking like she was about to say something, but thought better of it. In the end, she relented, "Fine, but you still owe me an explanation."
"After everything's finished. I promise," said Harry.
Ginny sighed, scratching her head. "Yeah, all right, Harry. Anyway, speaking of Malfoy . . ." She didn't finish her sentence, instead sucking her left inner cheek in thought. "Yes, that's it, I think I know what's in those places."
"Really?"
"Accio Getting to Know Old Wizarding Families," said Ginny. A moment later a thick, black covered tome was in Ginny's hands. "Here, there's a chapter about the Malfoys." She flicked through the pages, while Harry tried to read over her shoulder. "There. This is the part where they describe the Malfoys' properties through generations."
"Longdown, Modbury, Harberton, Malborough, Plymstock . . ." read Harry, widening his eyes. "So those are the places where the Malfoys built their other houses?"
"Well, not always houses. There are also prisons and quarantines for squibs, werewolves, criminals, war prisoners or family members that brought shame to the name-oh, please don't look like that, Harry. All old families had them, they were built when the situation was very different compared to now. I doubt the families still use them, they're usually so heavily warded that even the family heir has to go through certain rituals if they want to be accepted into the wards."
"Do the Weasleys have them, too, then?" Harry asked cynically.
Ginny snorted. "Even if we did, we probably have sold them all ages ago."
"Okay," Harry said. "It's better not to have them anyway."
"Yes, of course. But that's not really the point. What we should be concerned about is that Callington isn't listed here."
"It's not?" Harry asked, surprised.
"So it's not a question of what's in Callington that's not in other places-but what's in other places that's not in Callington."
"What then?" Harry wanted to tear his hair out in frustration.
"But . . ." Ginny tapped her lips with the tip of her wand, thinking. "St Dominic is near to Callington."
"What?"
"Here." Ginny pointed at the map, where a small dot was named St Dominic. "There's a property of the Malfoys in this place." She checked the information on the book and nodded in satisfaction. "Yes, apparently this one used to be a place where the Malfoys' squibs lived in the nineteenth century."
"So they were exiled there," said Harry in disgust.
"Yes, and so I was thinking . . . what if whoever used this Portkey spell originally wanted to mark St Dominic but made a mistake and marked Callington instead? They're really close in this map."
"A clumsy mistake, it's unlikely for-" Harry paused, his mind starting to catch up.
Was it really unlikely for Mrs Malfoy to make that small mistake? She was forced to do everything in secret while trying to cure her son and facing Aurors every day. It was possible that she was in a hurry when she hid the map and had to perform the ritual. After all, it made sense if she had chosen St Dominic for the new Malfoy. If it was used by the Malfoys' squibs, there must have been things that would help Malfoy survive when he woke up. Perhaps she had even prepared everything for her spoilt son there. Alas, Malfoy had ended up in Callington instead, and nearly died of starvation.
"Ginny, you're brilliant," said Harry, pleased that at least one more mystery about Malfoy and Raines had been solved. Not that Harry was sure his hypothesis was correct, but at least it rang the truest so far.
"I'm surprised you didn't realise it sooner," said Ginny, a smirk forming on her lips.
But Harry couldn't care less-his mind was already trying to figure out what he should do next. He knew the complete steps to perform the ritual after his discovery of Mrs Malfoy's box. Now he only had to find out how to reverse it. But if he did, Malfoy's Dark Mark would start to react again and that would be the end. But he couldn't leave it like this, because Malfoy was-
Potter, promise me.
Harry gritted his teeth, trying to block out Malfoy's voice from replaying again and again in his head and failing.
"Harry?"
Harry took a shuddering breath, biting his lip. Ginny studied him closely.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked. "Is it Malfoy? Is it that bloke in Callington? Is it . . . someone else?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You want an honest answer?" Ginny raised an eyebrow. "You look miserable. Not just miserable, actually. You look like you're in love and miserable."
"I'm not in love," said Harry through gritted teeth.
"I know you more than you know yourself then." Ginny shrugged. "Why the denial?"
'Because I can't be in love with him' was already on the tip of his tongue, but instead he simply said, "I'm just not. Just leave it." Ginny seemed to disagree, though she didn't voice it. Harry took the map from under her hand and nodded briefly. "Thank you, Gin, you have no idea-"
"Oh, don't worry, I didn't do it for free anyway. I was bored, but now I can look forward to the interesting story you owe me." Ginny flashed a knowing grin. Harry couldn't help but snort a laugh.
"Sure, I still thank you, though," said Harry before he left.
. .
. .
Harry was nearly asleep when someone nudged his leg. He jerked up, blinking the blur away from his eyes. Raines was staring down at him, his trainer still attached to Harry's calf.
"Why are you sleeping here?"
Harry took a moment to organise his befuddled mind, taking in his surroundings. He was sitting on the stairs that led towards Raines' flat, sagging against the cracking wall. "Um," he said, embarrassed. "I was waiting for you."
"Really, wow, I never could have guessed," said Raines sarcastically. He pulled out his key from inside his pocket and walked past Harry. "After your last stunt, I don't know why I should invite you in again."
Harry stood up, looking away. "You don't have to, but . . ."
"But I'll still do, anyway," finished Raines. He opened the door and signalled Harry to come inside with a jerk of his chin. Harry followed.
"Thanks."
Raines closed the door and turned the lamp on. Harry shuffled towards the sofa, not bothering to take his coat off. Raines shrugged his own coat off, hanging it at the door.
"Harry Potter," he said, half-throwing himself to sit beside Harry. "So, what's up?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing," repeated Raines.
"I just want to-know you."
"Ah, you want to know me because I can never be your boyfriend from the past."
"Look." Harry sighed. "I'm really sorry, I was so confused last time."
"I know," said Raines, grabbing for a cigarette and a lighter. "What made you think I wasn't as confused, if not more?"
"That's why I'm so sorry."
"What's done is done, I guess," Raines said, shrugging. He offered a cigarette to Harry, but Harry shook his head. Raines shrugged again and began taking a long drag. "I've given up on searching about my past anyway."
"I can . . ." Harry paused to take a deep breath. "I can tell you things, but not too detailed. I can't."
"Like what?"
"That we were . . . in the same school from when we were eleven. And that we hated each other," said Harry. "You were a pointy git and I couldn't stand you."
"Let's see." Raines pretended to be deep in thought. "If I was a pointy git, then you were a specky git who pranced around the school like you owned it?"
Harry spluttered. That almost sounded like Malfoy.
"Don't get all worked up just yet, I haven't remembered anything. It's just easy to imagine you like that with all the strutting you did in the orphanage and around my flat," said Raines with a grin. "What, did I nail it?"
"No." Harry scowled. "It's just he used to say the same thing."
"Bingo." Raines took a long, satisfied drag of his cigarette. "Anything else you can tell me?"
Harry watched him blowing out the smoke, watching the lips curled around the cigarette and the slim fingers holding it loosely. His hair seemed lighter under the yellow lamp, messy but attractive at the same time. His pores were visible around his high cheekbones, exactly like Malfoy's. Raines' eyes slid towards him, light grey and clear just like how he remembered them, but lacking the shadow and anguish that hid beneath during the war. It was all so real and solid and Harry didn't have to squint to get a better look because those eyes weren't transparent like the current Malfoy's.
"Raines," Harry called out, startled at his own voice when he realised that it was his first time calling him by name. "Raines."
"Yes, Harry Potter," said Raines, dipping his head a little to look at Harry more closely. "What is it?"
"I can," said Harry, licking his lips, "I can tell you things-but you have to believe them."
"Things like . . . ?"
"Like-magic."
Raines raised an eyebrow, looking askance. "Like pulling a bunny out of a hat? Or some card tricks?"
"No. Like flying on a broom."
Raines studied him even closer, his expression unreadable and Harry wondered if he should draw back a little. But Raines laughed suddenly, clutching at his stomach, forehead nearly touching Harry's shoulder. The scent of Muggle soap Harry didn't remember the brand of wafted, as Raines shook, his fringe lightly caressing Harry's neck. "Oh my God, Harry Potter," said Raines, still laughing. It took Harry a moment to realise that it wasn't a real laugh. "You're mocking my dream."
"What-"
"I think," said Raines, looking straight into Harry's eyes. "You should go home now."
"I wasn't mocking you! I told you, you have to believe-"
"O-kay." Raines rolled his eyes. "You not wanting me to replace your precious man is one thing, but you don't have to rub it in my face, you know."
"Merlin, can't you just listen to me?" Harry resisted the impulse to shout. "If you want to know about your past, then you must accept magic, because you were a wiz-"
The lips that were moving on his own made him swallow the rest of the words. Raines hands were on Harry's shoulders, gripping so tight they started to hurt. His teeth scraped at Harry's lower lip, his tongue teasing alternately. Harry could only stared blankly at the wall behind Raines' shoulder, his jaw slack and arms limp on his lap.
"I can't take it any longer," said Raines, louder than a whisper but softer than he ever talked before. He pushed Harry gently, a bitter smile on his lips. "You can't accept me. Don't force yourself."
Harry couldn't say anything. How could he?
"Leave. Please," said Raines as he straightened up on his seat, finding the wall across from him fascinating. His elbows rested on his knees, fingers squeezing one another. Harry knew they were trembling, but it was the way Raines tried hard not to look at Harry, the way he told Harry with a steady voice, "Please," that made Harry's face hot and his eyes prickle.
The way Raines and Malfoy both tried to cope in their own unique way. The way they both kept reminding Harry how utterly stupid and selfish he was. Harry shut his eyes for a moment, trying to breathe and just breathe.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so . . ."
Raines didn't respond, nor did Harry wait for him to say anything. Harry just left, not even remembering if he had waited until he was in an out-of-the way spot before Apparating.
By the time Harry regained control over his own emotions, he was already standing in front of Malfoy. The curtains in Malfoy's parents' chamber were only half-drawn, giving way to the afternoon sun to shower Malfoy's form in translucent golden light. Harry squinted, trying to make out all the lines and angles-because this was Malfoy. This was the person he wanted to see always. Always.
"I want you," said Harry. "I want you like-like I never . . ."
"Potter-"
"I hated you, and I still do, but I want you."
"Potter, did something happen?"
Harry didn't answer. Instead he pulled Malfoy, crushing their lips together. It was cold, and tingly, and weird because it was like kissing a stone with an ever present breeze caressing the skin of his lips. Yet Harry pushed harder, wondering if it was possible to taste Malfoy's tongue. Before it could happen, however, Malfoy stopped him. It wasn't gentle, but it wasn't harsh either. Malfoy pushed at Harry's chest, his eyes questioning but his lips remaining closed.
"I can't," Harry said in response. "I tried. I promise, I tried."
"What do you want then?" asked Malfoy softly.
"You," said Harry. "Just you."
Malfoy caressed his knuckles over Harry's cheek, his eyes following the trace of his fingers. Harry knew it should be cold, but the thrills that ran through his veins and his heartbeats that sounded so loud made him warm all over.
"All right," said Malfoy eventually. He kissed Harry, still icy but slower. "Come to bed."
Harry opened his mouth wordlessly. Nonetheless he followed Malfoy's lead, self-consciously removing his coat. "Can you-"
"I'm magic, Potter. Not a ghost."
"Okay," said Harry, not taking his eyes off him, as Malfoy began stripping on the bed. The clothes shimmered and disappeared once his hands dropped them. The trail of a scar on Malfoy's chest looked both translucent and silvery. Harry forced himself not to tear his eyes away from the reminder of his past stupidity.
"What are you waiting for?" asked Malfoy. He removed the last piece of his clothing and smirked. Harry swallowed, clumsily starting to undo his shirt and jeans. When he climbed onto the bed, he knew somewhere inside his mind he was screaming to stop, knew Malfoy must be planning something, for there was no way it could be this easy. But Harry couldn't bring himself to care-not right now.
Malfoy lay back, pulling Harry with him. He let Harry stroke his collarbone, kissing his neck and earlobe. "Potter, touch me. More."
Harry spread his hands over Malfoy's chest, noting the way the white sheet beneath made Malfoy's skin look terribly pale. But no, it didn't matter because it was Malfoy. It didn't matter, so Harry continued, running his fingers everywhere he could reach. Malfoy smiled at him, watching Harry's fingers went further south.
As Harry finally touched Malfoy's cock, it was hard and dry. He could see his own fingers through it. Harry stared, forcing himself not to listen to the voices in his head and just let Malfoy's fingers in his hair guide him. Closing his eyes, Harry dipped lower and took Malfoy into his mouth.
It was cold. Still cold. And there wasn't any taste, or any scent. But it was Malfoy. It should be what he wanted, it should feel right. And yet it all felt wrong.
Harry choked, taking it out of his mouth. He blinked and blinked, his face hot as though someone had just slapped him repeatedly. Breathing hard, he wanted desperately to curse the world. Malfoy's fingers that had clutched at his hair tightly before, were now caressing him, gently steering him to sit.
"Potter," said Malfoy, and it was all it took for Harry to break down. He buried his face in the crook of Malfoy's neck, letting the cold seep into his skin. He even prayed that the cold would be able to freeze his idiotic brain. He sobbed, knowing the warmth on his cheeks that was in contrast to the rest of his body inside Malfoy's embrace was tears.
You'll understand someday that I'm not the Draco Malfoy you want.
Harry wanted to laugh at himself. Because this time Malfoy was right.
. .
. .
"Isn't that exciting?" Hermione's voice went in and out of Harry's ears unnoticed. Ron was looking at him funny, as Harry shredded a napkin onto his empty plate. "Harry?"
"Yeah?" Harry answered without looking up. He could picture Hermione's expression accurately anyway.
"I was just saying that we've found the spell to stop the curse from spreading. Aren't you happy?"
"Why should I?" shrugged Harry. "It's only temporary, isn't it?"
"Yes, but it's progress! We'll find a way to stop it completely soon!"
"I thought you wanted to help Malfoy, mate," said Ron uneasily.
Harry snorted. "Yeah, right."
Malfoy's body was already safe and sound in a Muggle town, and his magic would forever haunt the Manor. What could a single paralysing spell do to make the situation better?
"You're infuriating," said Hermione. "You don't even want to talk to us anymore."
"Exactly what she said," Ron agreed. "We know something happened to you."
"Look, I'm fine, all right? I'm just not in the mood to talk," said Harry, sighing. He rubbed his eyelids and fixed his glasses again. "It's almost time, anyway. We've got a stakeout, Ron."
Ron groaned. "Don't remind me."
"But Luna's still not here," protested Hermione. "We promised to have lunch together."
"I'm sorry but you know how testy Robards will get if we're late," Harry pointed out.
Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, something that Harry found aggravating because they seemed to be on good terms only when they wanted to corner him.
"Promise me you'll be careful," said Hermione gravely.
"Hermione, it's only a stake-"
"You still have to be careful." Hermione tutted. "You've been so distracted lately, it's just not right, Harry."
"It's not like Robards'll give us an important case," said Harry sarcastically.
"As much as it pains me, I think Harry's right," Ron agreed miserably. "No important cases for us, aside from hunting down the ferret's arse, that is."
"Oh, honestly." Hermione huffed. "I think you both need to stop whining about that."
"Easy for you to say, isn't it? What with working on Level One and all," retorted Ron. Harry wanted to crack the table with his forehead. This wouldn't end well-a sulky Ron would rattle on about how selfish Hermione was for only thinking about her job all the time. A snappy Hermione would divert her full attention to Harry and lecture him on every single thing. That would go on and on for a week or worse, a month. Harry didn't need that now of all times.
"I'm off first. See you on location, Ron," said Harry quickly, halting what was no doubt a furious comeback from Hermione. He stood up and nearly collided with Luna when he spun around.
"Hello, Harry, did a Crumpeerunky bite you? You don't look very well."
"No, Luna, the Crambyhunky didn't think I was tasty enough," Harry snapped before he could bite his tongue. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," he amended, feeling guilty.
"It's all right, I'm happy enough you want to try to understand Crumpeerunkies. It's like having a friend to talk to about hobbies," said Luna, smiling dazedly. Harry still found himself at a loss whenever Luna talked that way even after all these years knowing her.
"Believe me I'd love to talk about hobbies with you," said Harry uncomfortably. "I just-um. Need to go."
"It's fine, Harry. You'd better not let me stop you," said Luna. "Hello, Hermione, Ron."
A grunt from Ron and an awkward greeting from Hermione sounded behind him. Harry prayed to whatever deity that they both forgot their impending argument because of Luna. He didn't bother to glance back, though.
Continuing his walk out of the small Muggle restaurant, Harry paused in his tracks when he thought he saw something glistening from the corner of his eye. He studied the spot, but there wasn't anything out of place, only a couple of Muggles chatting on the pavement. Shaking his head, he shrugged it off to find an Apparition point.
The stakeout was mostly boring. Harry and Ron were to ambush a group of teenagers who escaped from Hogwarts and thought they could make money by selling handmade lube to Muggles. Unfortunately, their creation was more like glue rather than lube. The victims were mostly young, gay teenagers-those who were still afraid and shy to buy lube in pharmacies or other shops, and chose to trust slightly older teenagers instead.
Their factory was a deserted building on the edge of Muggle London. Harry and Ron hid in the opposite building, waiting for the members of the group to gather. Robards didn't quite trust Harry and Ron, hence he ordered them to call for reinforcements once the teenagers assembled. But Ron had another idea.
"They're teenagers, they look like a collection of Dennis Creeveys," said Ron, peeking through the dusty curtains at the window. "We can take care of them."
"So we can impress Robards?"
"Why else?"
"Wouldn't he be more livid if he found out we disobeyed him?" Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"He won't if we succeed," said Ron, grinning. "Come on, Harry. We faced Death Eaters. We can't lose against a group of kids. This is our only chance."
"I don't think we need to duel or anything. I don't want to hurt-" Harry halted his speech, his eyes wildly searching the abandoned room.
"Mate?"
"I thought I saw something . . ." Harry muttered, furrowing his brow after a fruitless search. "Never mind, must be my imagination."
"You sure you're okay?" asked Ron. He appeared to be worried, but before he could ask further, the last kid they had been waiting for finally came. "Here he is, Harry!"
Harry peeked through the other side of the curtains. The kid greeted his mates, before they all filed inside the building together. Harry nodded at Ron. "Yeah, ready for this?"
"Of course. Let's go."
Harry spelled his shoes so there wouldn't be any noise and watched Ron do the same. They sneaked out of their hiding place and into the opposite building, carefully checking for any wards. The culprits were still children who hadn't even finished their education, though, so Harry didn't find any. Tiptoeing up the stairs, Harry brought his forefinger to his lips and glanced over his shoulder at Ron when he heard the chattering upstairs.
"On three," mouthed Harry, and Ron answered by adjusting the wand in his grip. Harry counted with his fingers soundlessly. Once the third finger was raised, they stormed up the remaining stairs and broke into the only door there. The kids jumped onto their feet, some of them swearing in surprise.
"Auror. Drop your wands," warned Harry, pointing his wand in the general direction of the kids. Ron proceeded to take his position opposite of Harry, by the window, attempting to cut off any escape routes. The kids, five in total, stared at them in horror. Three of them let their wands fall onto the floor, while the remaining two still couldn't overcome their shock. Harry scanned the room, taking in all the evidence-tubes of the illegal lube scattered on the desk at the centre of the room.
"Incarcerous," Ron cast at the same time as Harry said, "Expelliarmus!" The three kids without wands were immediately huddled together on the floor, tied with Ron's rope. A light brown wand shot up into Harry's hand, and he was about to cast another Disarming Spell at the last kid, when everything went pear-shaped.
The kid, pushed by fear at being caught, swished his wand in a pattern Harry fervently hoped wasn't what he thought it was. But the word that slipped out of his mouth crushed Harry's hope-he widened his eyes in fright. He could hear Ron swear, just as a beast with a lion head and a tail like a snake roared from the kid's wand, sweeping everything it touched with bluish red flames.
"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," Harry cursed vehemently, dodging the growing limbs of the beast. "Ron, it's a Chimaera," he shouted when the Chimaera's claws burned the curtains on the window. Ron leapt to the side, nearly bumping into the screaming kids on the floor. "Take them out! Apparate!"
"Bloody hell, I should have thought one experience with Fiendfyre is enough for a lifetime," yelled Ron, trying to envelope the three kids with his arms. The other kid, the one Harry had just disarmed, was edging towards Ron, sobbing. Harry rolled on the floor, the Chimaera hot on his trail. "Harry, let's go, we'll call for help!"
"We can't leave the fire, it'll burn the neighbourhood!"
"We can-oh, bleeding hell, Harry!"
Ron's alarmed shout made Harry snap his face towards the trembling kid in the centre of the room, his wand shaking in his hand. The Chimaera's tail crashed against the table, sending debris and sparks of fire towards the kid. Harry's mind replayed how Ron said Crabbe was dead all those year ago, as Malfoy slumped and choked on Crabbe's name again and again outside the Room of Requirement. Harry's lungs constricted and his heart hammered so hard it was painful. History wasn't supposed to repeat itself. No, everything should have ended when Voldemort died. Everything.
Running as fast as he could, Harry tackled the kid to the floor. A piece of burning wood from the table smacked him on the back and Harry screamed, trying to shield the kid from the raging fire with his body. The Chimaera roared, the crackles from its fire drowning any other voices. Harry swallowed back a whimper, hugging the kid tighter with his eyes clenched shut when he sensed another blow of fire coming towards him again. But instead, he felt something cold brush soothingly against the skin of his back, before a freezing, angry wind whirled around him.
Harry opened his eyes, desperately wishing whoever was behind him to be not the person he thought it was. But just like everything that had happened in his life, of course it would be Draco Malfoy sheltering him from the fuming fire. The sight of his see-through body engulfed by the fire, the wind around him slowly making every lick of flame freeze and crack, caused Harry's heart to be stuck in his throat.
"Malfoy-"
"Apparate out, Potter!" Malfoy's voice had an urgency that sent chills down Harry's spine. His stomach turned cold as dread consumed him faster and faster.
"You're not staying, are-"
"The kid, Potter," bellowed Malfoy between the Chimaera's howls, its breath of fire making Harry close his eyes instinctively. "Take the kids out! Weasley!"
Harry looked up at Ron. Smoke was making it hard to see, but Harry could make out how Ron's eyes were bulging in shock at the sight of Malfoy, the four kids plastering themselves to his body. He then nodded at Harry determinedly. Harry swore, sensing the kid beneath him shaking violently. Glancing one last time at Malfoy, now almost unseen completely, Harry stilled himself and Apparated.
Outside, Harry coughed and dragged the kid towards the opposite building. Ron was already there before him, trying to soothe the panicking kids tugging at his arms.
"Ron, tell Robards! We need help!"
"You're coming, too," said Ron, his eyes wide with suspicion.
"Take him." Harry pushed the kid towards Ron. "I'll go find Malfoy."
"No, Harry, you're not going back there!" Ron grabbed Harry's arm. Harry felt his legs shaking and he had trouble to even breathe, but Malfoy was-
"I can't leave him there!"
"But he's not even human, is he?" said Ron, tightening his grip. "He's all transparent, is he a ghost?"
"He's not a ghost, and let me go, Ron," hissed Harry. His whole face was hot, he didn't even care if tears began to well in his eyes. "He's not dead and if he is because I can't help him, I'll blame you!"
Ron looked as if he was smacked in the face. "Harry, you-"
"Ron-"
An explosion interrupted them, hot and cold waves mingled from the building behind them. The smoke made the air outside heavy and Harry's eyes hurt from squinting. Standing rooted to the pavement, he couldn't even order his feet to move. Ron's grip on his arm tightened even more. The flames had died, from the look of it, and the building didn't collapse, but Harry thought it was only just. A window frame flew into the air, traces of fire still visible before they disappeared as the frame crashed onto the street. Harry didn't know when, but Muggles had gathered around them when he could breathe again, the smoke thinning. However the only thing he could think of was Malfoy.
"Harry," called Ron, pulling him close. "Harry? Oh, bloody hell, Muggles. We should-"
"Malfoy," said Harry, though he could hardly hear his own voice. Everything felt numb, the world tilted in his vision. He blinked the moisture forming in his eyes away to no avail-the building looked blurrier with every blink he took. "Oh God, Ron, Malfoy, we left him . . ."
Harry started to draw his arm from Ron's hand, needing to go, to check if Malfoy was still inside, but Ron yanked him back. "No, it'll cave in. Malfoy's not there."
"How could you be so sure?" Harry asked, anger boiling in the pit of his stomach. "I told you, didn't I, if Malfoy died, I'd blame-"
"Who fucking cares?" shouted Ron suddenly. "If you died, I'd blame myself!"
Harry stared at him in shock, his mouth hung open. It was as if someone had just stabbed him with a giant knife in the guts.
"You're coming with us. We'll do something about Malfoy's ghost later," said Ron again. He gestured to the kids to follow him, hooking his arm around Harry's shoulders. He led them all to find a secluded spot. He was in the process of ordering all the kids to hold onto him, when Harry took the opportunity to jerk away from Ron.
"Ha-"
"Sorry, Ron," said Harry, pleading with his eyes, before he ran back towards the building. He heard Ron swearing, but Harry couldn't shake off the feeling that he needed to see Malfoy. He could deal with Ron later, he could even beg for forgiveness for being a prat later. But this couldn't wait for later. It didn't matter that his instinct was usually wrong-he even wished it would be wrong this time. Still, nothing could make him stop from galloping back into the building, not even the screaming Muggles. His lungs protested from the thick smoke inside.
The stairs had fallen down halfway, soot in drifts at every corner. It was probably a good thing it was a deserted building with very little furniture remaining, otherwise it would have been a lot worse. Harry impatiently tried to search for another way to go upstairs, some emergency exits or anything. But he couldn't find any, so he settled with shouting, "Malfoy!"
No answer came. Harry messed his hair, his throat dry as he continued to shout. "Malfoy, for Merlin's sake, answer!"
It was still silent-Harry hated silence, hated everything in this world now. He began to sense a sob vibrating in his chest, but he swallowed it down. He scrubbed at his eyes, his glasses layered with soot. He counted to ten, willing himself to calm down even though he wanted nothing more than to throw up from the sickening realisation that once again, Malfoy might be-
A cold wind embraced him, easing the burning wound at his back away, as Harry felt more than saw arms circling his waist from behind. "Potter," said Malfoy, his lips brushing against Harry's jaw. "No casualties, are there?"
Relief flooded over him, and Harry almost lost his footing.
"Malf-" He couldn't resist the choke that escaped his lips. "I thought-you were-oh God." He claimed Malfoy's arms with his hands. "Oh God, I thought . . ."
"I don't want anyone to die from that thing," said Malfoy. His embrace was starting to hurt, but Harry didn't care. "Again."
"I don't want you to die," said Harry. He shut his eyes, biting his trembling lip. "Why did you follow me?"
"I've been doing it for days," admitted Malfoy. "You've been so distracted ever since that day I . . ." He trailed off, loosening his hold against Harry's waist instead so Harry could breathe again. "I thought it wouldn't be safe for you to be out on missions while you're in such state."
Harry tried to swallow, but it was hard when his chest felt so heavy. The whole situation was just so poignant that Harry didn't know if he was sad or glad for all the things Malfoy had done. He took a deep breath, looking down to calm himself, but startled when he saw Malfoy's arms upon his stomach.
They were so light, so transparent that they didn't even have colour anymore. Not even the greys and blacks Harry had been so accustomed to seeing.
"What's happening to you?" asked Harry. A horrible suspicion formed in the pit of his stomach, nagging at him. "Why are you so transparent?"
Malfoy didn't answer for what seemed like forever until Harry wanted to turn around and challenge him. But he couldn't bring himself to do that-he couldn't look at Malfoy when he knew what he would see would destroy him. When Malfoy spoke, his voice was so quiet Harry could barely hear it, "The only reason I could win over the Fiendfyre is because I don't have a vessel."
". . . and?" Harry forced himself to speak.
"I'm pure magic-that makes me stronger than any wizard. But . . ."
"What? But what?"
"But not having a vessel means I can't take a rest. I can't make my body recover the magic inside. I don't have the core every wizard has-"
"Are you telling me that you're going to disappear?" Harry asked, his nails digging into Malfoy's arms, though he knew Malfoy wouldn't feel anything. "You're going to vanish because you don't have a body, is that it?"
Malfoy was quiet again for a moment, before he nodded against Harry's cheek. "Yes."
Harry wanted to laugh at the irony. Why did everything have to end like this? Why did everything he did for Malfoy's sake always end up with him losing Malfoy instead? God, this was a horrible joke. This was the result of his stupidity for having stayed idle and sceptical for so long. Three and a half years he could have done something to stop the catastrophe Voldemort had left behind. Three and a half years he could have done something to help Malfoy. But he didn't, and now he got what he deserved. Nevertheless Malfoy didn't deserve this-he shouldn't have died, magically or not.
"I'm not letting you." Harry clenched his jaw. He turned around and caught Malfoy's hands as they dropped from around his waist. "I'll find a way."
"Potter." Malfoy sighed, his eyes bitter. Harry had to will himself not to break down at the sight. Malfoy was barely visible, barely existing . . .
"Please. Just give me time. Please," Harry pleaded, not caring if his voice had come out shaky. Malfoy flickered, nearly vanishing completely. Harry's fingers gripped the air once Malfoy's hands slipped out of them. The realisation that Malfoy couldn't even keep his form solid hit Harry hard. But he could do this. He must do this. "I'll be back. Trust me. I'll be back."
"Potter, I-" Harry didn't want to hear him out. He whirled around, running towards the exit, when he heard Malfoy call him once more, "Harry, wait."
The name Malfoy called him with made him do just that-wait. ". . . Yeah?"
"I'll be . . . in the Manor," said Malfoy. He held Harry's eyes, his expression showed that he knew something Harry didn't, again, and Harry hated that. "Come when you're ready," finished Malfoy before he disappeared entirely.
Harry took several seconds to collect himself together, to assure himself that Malfoy hadn't disappeared for good. Taking a deep breath, he Apparated to where the only person who could help him would be.
. .
Six
. .