Malicious Intent - Part 12 (H/D)
Title: Malicious Intent - Part 12
Author: sesheta_66
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 5K
Rating: Eventual NC-17
Warning: none
Summary: Harry’s world is upended when he’s asked to investigate a break-in and threats levied at Draco Malfoy. He’s never told anyone about their short-lived but intense relationship, and now, five years after it ended, doesn’t seem the time. He’s a professional, so he will investigate, find and arrest the culprit, and get on with his life. What else can he do?
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
To start at the beginning, click here.
Or to read at AO3, click here.
[Malicious Intent - Part 12]
Malicious Intent - Part 12
Harry debated getting a bottle of firewhiskey, but thought better of it. Probably best to keep a clear head. Besides, he needed to get to the bottom of this case. He’d wasted enough time today already, dealing with his mess of a personal life. As he’d done after Draco had left, he’d dive into his work, immersing himself in anything and everything that could get his mind off ... well, everything that wasn’t work.
He tossed his bag beside the closet and went downstairs for a coffee - a large, strong cup of coffee, thanks. When he returned, it was to find Draco sitting at the table.
He jumped when Harry entered. "I - I didn’t know you’d be here," he said when he saw Harry. "I thought you’d be at home."
Harry shrugged. "I sorta bailed on my work earlier, so I thought it’d be best to get back at it, at least for a while." He didn’t want to talk about Ginny right now. He didn’t see the point. "What are you doing here?"
"I’m sorry." He was strung tight as a wire. "I can just leave." He stood up to do just that.
Harry stopped him with a shake of the head. "I didn’t mean you had to leave, only that I figured you’d have better things to do."
Draco relaxed a fraction, but remained wound up. "I - look, I know the bugs are gone now, but ..." He rubbed his palms on his legs nervously. "I still feel eyes on me, like someone’s watching every move I make, listening to everything I say. It’s creeping me out, if I’m honest."
Harry nodded. He’d feel the same way. "Do you want some tea? A firewhiskey, maybe, to relax?"
Draco snorted. "I think I’ve had enough firewhiskey for a while, thanks." Then he mumbled, "Especially around you."
Harry didn’t respond to that. "Tea, then? They make a decent cup downstairs. I can get you -"
Draco stood up, cutting Harry off. "It’s okay, I can get myself some." He looked around the room nervously. "Or maybe it’d be best if I just went back home. I’m sure I’ll be fine."
"Draco, it’s okay. I’m just going to be working on your case anyway, so it couldn’t hurt having you around if I have any questions."
"Yeah?" He looked hopeful and Harry couldn’t help the surge of protectiveness he felt for him. Bloody hell, he needed his head examined.
"I doubt it’ll help you relax, but as long as you’re okay talking about it, I could use the help."
Draco gave a sad half-smile. "Maybe not, but if it helps to end this nightmare sooner, I’m all for it." He opened the door to go downstairs. "Be right back."
It was only after he’d been gone a few moments that Harry realised Draco wasn’t a registered guest of the hotel and might raise some eyebrows with his appearance, particularly entering the pub from the hotel. Now tense, but convinced he’d draw even more attention by going after Draco, he pulled out the coin. Hoping Draco still had his coin, Harry said, "Enter pub from outside, not hotel lobby."
He got no answer. When Draco returned, he Apparated in. He rolled his eyes at Harry. "I’ve got someone after me, Potter. Did you really imagine me daft enough to enter from the lobby?"
Harry shrugged. "I didn’t think about it until you were gone, so it wasn’t a stretch that you might not have thought about it either."
He shrugged and only then did Harry realise he wasn’t carrying a tea. "Okay, truth: I realised the same thing halfway down the stairs, so I popped back to my flat and picked this up." He reached inside one pocket and withdrew a variety of gourmet teas, placing them on the side table, then from his other pocket he withdrew and enlarged a tea pot and two mugs. "I figured we’re here often enough that we might as well have some good tea."
Harry laughed. "Great idea, thanks. I think I’ve been drinking too much coffee anyway."
While Draco made a pot of his fancy tea, Harry drank his coffee and made a list of the questions he thought Draco might be able to answer, to help him fill in the gaps.
It turned out he was helpful, particularly connecting Death Eaters to each other. Unfortunately, besides Antonin Dolohov, who was safely tucked away in Azkaban, Rowle hadn’t ever connected with other Voldemort followers.
"I think he just went along with the group as an outlet for his sociopathic and sadistic tendencies. Hiding in plain view, as it were."
Harry shuddered. He’d come across a fair few sick characters in his time, but thankfully most weren’t outright sociopaths. "So you don’t think he bought into the ideology?"
Draco, brows furrowed, pondered the question for some time before saying, "I don’t really know. He was definitely brought up with the whole pureblood is best mentality, and with the desire to rule over Muggles, but I don’t think it went any deeper than being able to wield power over those less powerful or strong. I think if a Muggle offered him more freedom to act out his sick fantasies, he’d just as soon pair up with that person as a wizard."
This struck Harry as odd. His face must have shown his doubt, because Draco added, "Oh, he wouldn’t like it. And he’d turn on the Muggle in a heartbeat. But he’d get what he could out of the arrangement for himself first."
"But he stuck with the Death Eaters, even after Voldemort punished him."
Draco nodded. "He did. I think Voldemort might have been the only person who ever scared him." He laughed. "And I bet he’d have killed him too, if the chance arose."
Harry let all that settle, careful not to show how disturbing this was. Rowle was not just someone looking to get revenge for a slight. If he cared for no one but himself, he’d have viewed Draco - and Lucius, for that matter - not as an enemy, but as an obstacle. An obstacle to be eliminated. There would be no negotiating with him. No hesitation on his part to take out anyone and everyone that prevented him accomplishing his goal. And Harry was pretty sure that goal was to eliminate Draco, Lucius and possibly Narcissa. He’d probably get some satisfaction out of getting Harry out of the way too, since he’d been instrumental in causing Rowle’s initial punishment.
Draco got up to get another cup of tea. He took a few steps before stopping. "What’s this?" He kicked Harry’s bag that sat where he’d tossed it when he’d first come in.
Shit. He’d meant to tuck that away in the closet, but had forgotten. "Er."
"Are you staying here?"
Harry ran his hand over the back of his neck. "For a little bit, yeah."
Draco’s eyes widened. "Is this a one-night thing or ..." He left the rest of his sentence hanging.
"Two, actually." At Draco’s puzzled look, he added, "I gave Ginny two days to move out."
After nearly a minute of awkward silence, Draco’s look turned from shocked to amused. "Impressive."
"What?"
"I never would have ... I just figured you’d ... you’re all about forgiveness and ..."
If Harry hadn’t been in such a frazzled state himself, he’d have found Draco’s inability to spit out what he was thinking more humorous. "You sound as articulate as you usually accuse me of being."
"Shut up," he said and a grin tugged at his lips. "It’s just that I’d never have imagined you’d kick her out. That just seems so ..."
"Mean? Spiteful?"
"Normal."
"Gee, thanks." Harry tried to look offended, but based on Draco’s smirk, he didn’t think he’d succeeded.
"Well, I mean really. You forgive people, you help people, you save people. You’re not normal, Potter. You’re constantly putting other people’s interests before your own, and I have to say I’m impressed. It’s high time you did something for you for a change."
"Careful, Malfoy. That almost sounded like a compliment."
Draco shrugged. "It wasn’t meant to be." He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like Hufflepuff. "But, well ... since you probably do find that complimentary, don’t let it go to your head or anything."
Harry chuckled. "I’ll try not to."
"So why are you here? Why not kick her out right away?"
Harry’s face grew warm. "Because that would be mean."
Draco coughed out, "Normal." Harry balled up a piece of parchment and pitched it at his head.
He caught it and lobbed it back at Harry, then went to get his tea. As he sat down with it, he said, "I’ll head out after I’m done this. Leave you to get some rest."
"You don’t have to," Harry said without thinking. As soon as his brain caught up to his mouth, and he realised what that might sound like, he added, "I mean, if it’s going to bother you being there, you can stay a bit longer. I’ll be up for a while yet." He didn’t miss the hint of a smile as Draco sipped his tea.
After a short time, Harry was deep into reading an older report about Rowle’s associates from his younger days when Draco brought him back to the present. "Was it awful?" he asked.
Harry tossed the report onto the table and ran his hands over his face. He didn’t need Draco to explain what it he was referring to. Harry wasn’t sure how to answer. He ran over the events of the day once more - something he’d hoped to escape while he was here. "Not as bad as watching your memory in the Pensieve," he said with conviction.
That seemed to surprise Draco. He sat up straighter and tilted his head to the side, considering Harry. He could practically hear the wheels in Draco’s brain spinning. "How so?"
Harry sighed. He didn’t want to talk about it. After a few minutes of silence, he relented. It’s not like Draco hadn’t already confessed to Harry how he felt, even if he had been drunk. "I don’t know how to describe it, really. I guess it was like watching an oncoming train, unable to get out of its path, watching how Ron and Ginny hammered away at you. I hadn’t seen that side of either of them, and they seemed to be enjoying it. They enjoyed hurting you." Draco’s expression softened. "I hated seeing that and not being able to stop it. It was like a punch to the gut. They looked so pleased with themselves, Ginny in particular, that I wanted to scream at them to stop. And I kinda wanted to punch Ron."
Draco gave a half-grin. "For what it’s worth, I wanted to do the same."
"I wish you had," Harry said. He wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t do just that the next time he saw Ron. "Then, beyond the outward anger I felt at what they were doing to you, there was a raw, burning sensation deep inside me at what they had done to us. That feeling hasn’t left me. They fucked with our lives and they stayed silent about it for five years. Five years! Every passage of time - every week, month, year they said nothing - feels like a new betrayal, something they allowed to happen over and over and over again."
Draco stared at his empty cup. "I should have told you sooner."
Harry nodded. "Yeah, you should have."
"I’m sorry." He spoke to his cup. "I wanted to. So many times I wanted to."
"So why didn’t you?"
"I nearly did, more than once. But then I’d see how well you were doing, and ... it wouldn’t have been fair. You’d moved on, you were making a great life for yourself, and I’d only have held you back."
Harry scowled. "How can you say that?"
"First, you got the Order of Merlin for services during the war. Then there was the dedication of that wing of Hogwarts after the school reopened. Then you set up that house for war orphans."
"Okay," Harry interrupted. The Order of Merlin had been awarded to many people who’d fought in the war, so he’d accepted that and made a point of reinforcing that he’d been just one of many. And yes, the orphanage had been his brainchild, after seeing the serviceable but desolate place Voldemort had grown up in, but he’d wanted to do it quietly and so many others had been instrumental in bringing it to fruition. The Hogwarts wing was just downright embarrassing. He was just a kid that went there, broke a bunch of rules, and blundered his way into ending Voldemort. He still felt weird about it. "But none of that would have changed if you’d told me."
"Maybe not those things, but everything that followed would have, and I knew it. The public loved you - they still do. Like I said, you always put other people before yourself. You’re a war hero with a heart that never hesitates to help anyone that asks."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I’m not perfect."
Draco snorted. "I know that. But the public doesn’t. All they see is what the media chooses to show them. And you’re the media’s darling, even now."
"Arseholes," Harry grunted. "They’d turn on me in an instant if they thought it would help them sell more papers."
"Exactly my point. They would have turned on you in a heartbeat if they’d found out about us." He let that settle before continuing. "Say what you will about the weasel and weaselette, but they weren’t wrong. I watched as you became the unofficial lead of a new generation of Aurors, praised as the top of your class, then assigned to Kingsley’s special task force to eliminate corruption in the Ministry."
"I wasn’t the only one," Harry countered.
Draco ignored him. "You had the highest case clearance rate of any Auror, and got promoted within two years of graduation."
Harry wasn’t sure if he should be flattered that Draco had followed his career so closely, or irritated at the non-stop press coverage he got. "That’s because I poured every ounce of myself into the job."
"You’re in line to become Head Auror and, no doubt, it’s only a matter of time until you’re heading up the DMLE. There are even rumours of your future as Minister of Magic."
Harry nearly choked on that last one. "Good god, could you imagine me trying to navigate the politics of being the Minister?"
Draco chuckled. "Okay, I never bought into that one. You’d be horrible."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Truth be told, it was comforting to have someone acknowledge his shortcomings.
He shrugged. "Well, it’s true and we both know it. But all the rest? That’s you. It’s all you. You deserve every bit of it. Ron was right. You’re a leader and you deserve the chance to make a difference."
He didn’t feel like a leader half the time. But then, the other half of the time he just acted on instinct and people followed his lead. It just came naturally. "Maybe," he conceded.
"Definitely."
"Fine. Even if what you say is true, why would that have stopped you from telling me the truth?"
"Because you’d probably have done something noble and stupid, ruining your chance to prove what you can do."
"Noble and stupid?"
"Yeah, like coming out publicly about us, only to be crucified by the media."
Harry shrugged. "I’ve been through worse."
"Perhaps, perhaps not. But the reality is that the public - at least a good portion of it - would have turned on you and would have challenged everything you did."
"So what? Like I care what everyone says about me. I can -"
Draco raised a hand to stop him. "You might be strong enough to withstand the media and the public - you’ve had a lifetime to hone those skills - but would your bosses be? Even if Kingsley would, could you say the same for every person that would ever have a say in your possible promotion? You may not be Minister, but you know that politics play a big role in everything the Ministry does. And you’d have been right in the middle of it. A liability."
"I -"
"Here’s the thing. Even if I hated what they said to me, they were right. Being with me would have prevented you from achieving your goals. It would have been selfish of me to stay."
Harry didn’t know what to say to that. "What does that even mean? I never wanted you to leave. How could it be selfish for you to do what I wanted?"
He let out an exasperated sigh. "You told me yourself just the other day that you love your job. If you couldn’t have been an Auror, how long would it have been before you resented me?"
Harry thought about that. What life would be like if he weren’t an Auror. Then he thought about what his life had been like without Draco. "I wouldn’t have resented you."
"You probably never would have said anything. Would have stayed with me just to prove a point, no matter how miserable you were. It would have killed me to watch that happen, to watch you grow to loathe me, see you look at me with contempt. So that’s why I never told you. But every now and again I regretted it." He looked Harry in the eye then. "No, that’s not right. I regretted it every single day. But then I’d see an article about you. About how you were the Ministry’s golden boy and how everybody loved you and what an amazing Auror and leader and role model you were. And then I’d tell myself that, no matter how much it hurt, I’d done the right thing. Maybe not for me, but for you."
"But how could you know if it was right for me if you never asked?" Harry tried but failed to keep the pain out of his voice. "You never gave me the chance to make that choice for myself."
"I know, and for that I’m sorry. Really, really sorry." He sounded sorry. Harry remembered the previous night and Draco’s drunken confession and knew he was sorry. But was it enough for Harry to forgive him? "But, like I said before, you would have put me before yourself, like you always do. This was my chance to put you first. For once in my life, I didn’t do the selfish thing."
His words echoed in the silence that followed. Harry broke it by saying, "You put your parents first, too. You weren’t always selfish, no matter what you think."
He waved away Harry’s comment. "Don’t get me wrong, I was angry. So angry that they’d put me in that situation, made me look at myself, made me think about how us being together could hurt you. Made me acknowledge what I already knew: that you deserve so much better than me.
"I won’t lie. It killed me to see you with her, when you eventually got back together. Then I really wanted to tell you. Warn you about her. Fuck this selfless shit; I suck at it. But then I remembered the two of you in school and I figured you’d have a chance at happiness. And your career kept progressing, so as time went on, it just became harder and harder to convince myself that I should tell you. You’d moved on without me and your life was great. Who the hell was I to ruin that? And I convinced myself that, in the end, you’d have ended up hating me anyway, so everyone was better off with a clean break."
"How many times do I have to tell you that I could never hate you?"
Draco ran his hands through his hair, looking utterly miserable. "But I didn’t know that then. We’d spent years hating, or nearly hating each other. And only a few months ... not."
"And the way it ended?" Harry said. "That was anything but a clean break."
"What do you mean? I thought I’d made it clear."
"It came right out of left field, hit me like a bludger to the head. I had no idea, no hint, no inkling that you didn’t feel the same way I did. And then ... out of nowhere. You blindsided me and before I had the chance to process what you were saying, you were gone."
He began to reach for Harry’s hand, but pulled back. "I’m so sorry."
Harry didn’t want to hear how sorry he was. "So you’ve said." His head reeled from the ups and downs of the last few days. Had it really only been a few days since his life had been turned upside down? "So why tell me now? What do you expect from me? What do you want?"
Draco ran fingers over his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, as though warding off a headache. "I did it for you."
"Excuse me?"
"The other day, when you told me ... you said that you had me to thank for never trusting your feelings. I didn’t know."
Harry had a vague recollection of saying something to that effect. "But you didn’t say anything then."
He didn’t seem to hear. "I never meant to hurt you." Harry snorted derisively. "Okay, I knew my words would bite, but we’d said awful things to each other in the past. I figured you’d just chalk it all up to me being the arsehole you always pegged me for, and you’d move on. If I were lucky, you’d remember me as an interesting, if ill-advised, diversion from your past that you’d move on from. I never knew that I had the power to hurt you that deeply."
Harry clenched his jaw but showed no other outward sign that he’d hit the mark. "So you told me to ease your conscience?"
"No." He shook his head and took a moment to continue. Harry used that time to study the distress on his face. He wanted to wipe away the lines between his eyes. "You surprised me when you told me what a lasting impact ... well. But still, I told myself you were better off. And you were happy with her. I hated myself for what I’d said to you, how I’d ended things, but telling you would have only made things worse. I don’t know." He got up and began pacing, eyes darting around like a caged animal looking for escape. "But then you said, so insistently, so emphatically, that it’s always better to know the truth. Always. Especially when it hurts."
"It’s true," Harry said, and he believed that with everything in him. He’d been lied to enough over the years. The truth, no matter what it was, he could deal with. He’d get past the pain.
"Is it really?" He stopped pacing and stood staring at Harry for a good long minute. "Because you look ... well, you look like shit."
Harry ran his hand through his mop of unruly hair. "Yeah? Well, you don’t look so great yourself."
"I’ve been better," Draco acknowledged, slumping back down into his chair. "But seriously, Harry. Please tell me I did the right thing. That I didn’t make things worse for you."
Harry gave a half-hearted grin. "You did the right thing."
"Really? Because I swear I never wanted to ..." He squeezed the back of his neck and rolled his head from side to side. "I never expected you to throw her out of your house."
Harry frowned, puzzled at this statement. "What did you expect me to do? Continue living a lie?"
"I don’t know. I just ... well, you’d been together for so long, I guess I just thought you’d clear the air and move on. Together."
"So you didn’t expect us to break up? Hadn’t hoped that would be the end result?"
He caught Harry’s gaze and held it until it almost became awkward before looking away. "I won’t deny hoping for that in the past. Many times, if I’m honest. But yesterday? I hadn’t thought it through. Hadn’t considered anything beyond telling, or rather showing you the truth."
Harry narrowed his eyes, acutely aware he was dealing with a Slytherin. He wanted to believe Draco, but he couldn’t let his guard down. He felt raw enough already. "So what would you say if I were to suggest ... oh, I don’t know ... let’s get together, scratch that itch, just one more time?" Draco’s head shot up and his eyes widened. Harry leaned across the table towards him. "You know, for old time’s sake."
Draco pulled back. "That’s not funny."
Harry sat back slowly and crossed his arms over his chest. "I’m not laughing."
Draco’s mouth went slack and he stared at Harry. Kept staring, eyes boring into Harry’s own. "I -"
"Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it."
He blinked. "Nearly every day for five years."
"So what’s the problem, then?"
His face hardened and a mask of indifference fell over his features. "What are you playing at?"
Harry shrugged. "Isn’t this what you suggested yourself? How had you put it? Should I want to fuck occasionally. I think those were your words. On the side and in private, of course. Not that either of us would be doing it on the side, now, but still. This is private. And no one need ever know."
Draco winced. "I didn’t mean that."
"No? Then why say it?"
"Because I knew you’d never do that."
Harry smirked. "True. I would never knowingly do something that would hurt someone else - your wife, for instance."
"Harry, please. I told you I was sorry. I came up with the best way I knew how to get you to not want to be with me."
Harry wasn’t sure where all this was coming from, but it seemed all his old pain and hurt, and his desperate need for answers, for the truth, had bubbled up to the surface. And while he had Draco here, he would get what answers he could. Today. Now. "See, now that’s what I don’t understand. It’s like you were trying to make me hate you. Why do that? Why not just break things off and move on?"
Once more, he got up. At first Harry thought he was going to leave, but then he started to pace again. Harry let the silence stretch. He had all night, after all. Eventually, Draco spoke. "Because I didn’t think I was strong enough. If I had to face you again, see you look at me with anything but loathing in your eyes, I don’t think I could have kept the truth from you. I don’t think I could have stopped myself reaching out. Touching you. Kissing you." He stopped his pacing and leaned his forehead against the wall and mumbled, "I can barely do that now, all this time later."
Harry could understand that. Just seeing Draco again had brought everything back to the forefront of his mind. He would never act on his feelings, not while he was with Ginny. And not while he was on the case investigating threats against Draco. But he couldn’t deny how hard it was to be around Draco. To fight his feelings.
"So, then. If I asked you, again, to just ... you know. Fuck. One more time. Your answer would be?"
He let out a moan, then pushed away from the wall, turned around and leaned back against it, closing his eyes and banging his head lightly against the surface. "Are you trying to kill me?" His voice cracked.
"No," Harry said. "Just asking a simple question."
Draco laughed but his eyes squeezed together in pain. "But that’s just it, isn’t it? Nothing’s ever been simple between us."
"And?"
"And my answer would be no, because I don’t think I could walk away again. And if I could, I wouldn’t want some one-off fuck to be what I remember of us."
"So you really wouldn’t?"
"Of course I would!" he shouted, pushing away from the wall and marching over to stand in front of Harry. He put his hands on the table and leaned in. "I would say no because I know that would be the right thing to do. For self-preservation, if nothing else. But all you’d have to do is look at me the way you used to. Or smile at me. Or touch me. And I’d be lost. I’d do whatever you wanted for however long I could. Because I’m utterly defenceless when it comes to you."
"Okay," Harry said. "Just so we’re clear."
Draco stood back up, looking utterly spent, and took several deep breaths. "I should go."
"Probably best," Harry agreed.
It was only after several hours of tossing and turning, his mind processing all the events of the past few days, that Harry finally relented and took out the phial of Dreamless Sleep he’d packed. He poured the liquid down his throat and saw Draco’s face one last time before the potion took hold and he drifted into darkness.
Continued in Part 13
Author: sesheta_66
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 5K
Rating: Eventual NC-17
Warning: none
Summary: Harry’s world is upended when he’s asked to investigate a break-in and threats levied at Draco Malfoy. He’s never told anyone about their short-lived but intense relationship, and now, five years after it ended, doesn’t seem the time. He’s a professional, so he will investigate, find and arrest the culprit, and get on with his life. What else can he do?
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
To start at the beginning, click here.
Or to read at AO3, click here.
[Malicious Intent - Part 12]
Malicious Intent - Part 12
Harry debated getting a bottle of firewhiskey, but thought better of it. Probably best to keep a clear head. Besides, he needed to get to the bottom of this case. He’d wasted enough time today already, dealing with his mess of a personal life. As he’d done after Draco had left, he’d dive into his work, immersing himself in anything and everything that could get his mind off ... well, everything that wasn’t work.
He tossed his bag beside the closet and went downstairs for a coffee - a large, strong cup of coffee, thanks. When he returned, it was to find Draco sitting at the table.
He jumped when Harry entered. "I - I didn’t know you’d be here," he said when he saw Harry. "I thought you’d be at home."
Harry shrugged. "I sorta bailed on my work earlier, so I thought it’d be best to get back at it, at least for a while." He didn’t want to talk about Ginny right now. He didn’t see the point. "What are you doing here?"
"I’m sorry." He was strung tight as a wire. "I can just leave." He stood up to do just that.
Harry stopped him with a shake of the head. "I didn’t mean you had to leave, only that I figured you’d have better things to do."
Draco relaxed a fraction, but remained wound up. "I - look, I know the bugs are gone now, but ..." He rubbed his palms on his legs nervously. "I still feel eyes on me, like someone’s watching every move I make, listening to everything I say. It’s creeping me out, if I’m honest."
Harry nodded. He’d feel the same way. "Do you want some tea? A firewhiskey, maybe, to relax?"
Draco snorted. "I think I’ve had enough firewhiskey for a while, thanks." Then he mumbled, "Especially around you."
Harry didn’t respond to that. "Tea, then? They make a decent cup downstairs. I can get you -"
Draco stood up, cutting Harry off. "It’s okay, I can get myself some." He looked around the room nervously. "Or maybe it’d be best if I just went back home. I’m sure I’ll be fine."
"Draco, it’s okay. I’m just going to be working on your case anyway, so it couldn’t hurt having you around if I have any questions."
"Yeah?" He looked hopeful and Harry couldn’t help the surge of protectiveness he felt for him. Bloody hell, he needed his head examined.
"I doubt it’ll help you relax, but as long as you’re okay talking about it, I could use the help."
Draco gave a sad half-smile. "Maybe not, but if it helps to end this nightmare sooner, I’m all for it." He opened the door to go downstairs. "Be right back."
It was only after he’d been gone a few moments that Harry realised Draco wasn’t a registered guest of the hotel and might raise some eyebrows with his appearance, particularly entering the pub from the hotel. Now tense, but convinced he’d draw even more attention by going after Draco, he pulled out the coin. Hoping Draco still had his coin, Harry said, "Enter pub from outside, not hotel lobby."
He got no answer. When Draco returned, he Apparated in. He rolled his eyes at Harry. "I’ve got someone after me, Potter. Did you really imagine me daft enough to enter from the lobby?"
Harry shrugged. "I didn’t think about it until you were gone, so it wasn’t a stretch that you might not have thought about it either."
He shrugged and only then did Harry realise he wasn’t carrying a tea. "Okay, truth: I realised the same thing halfway down the stairs, so I popped back to my flat and picked this up." He reached inside one pocket and withdrew a variety of gourmet teas, placing them on the side table, then from his other pocket he withdrew and enlarged a tea pot and two mugs. "I figured we’re here often enough that we might as well have some good tea."
Harry laughed. "Great idea, thanks. I think I’ve been drinking too much coffee anyway."
While Draco made a pot of his fancy tea, Harry drank his coffee and made a list of the questions he thought Draco might be able to answer, to help him fill in the gaps.
It turned out he was helpful, particularly connecting Death Eaters to each other. Unfortunately, besides Antonin Dolohov, who was safely tucked away in Azkaban, Rowle hadn’t ever connected with other Voldemort followers.
"I think he just went along with the group as an outlet for his sociopathic and sadistic tendencies. Hiding in plain view, as it were."
Harry shuddered. He’d come across a fair few sick characters in his time, but thankfully most weren’t outright sociopaths. "So you don’t think he bought into the ideology?"
Draco, brows furrowed, pondered the question for some time before saying, "I don’t really know. He was definitely brought up with the whole pureblood is best mentality, and with the desire to rule over Muggles, but I don’t think it went any deeper than being able to wield power over those less powerful or strong. I think if a Muggle offered him more freedom to act out his sick fantasies, he’d just as soon pair up with that person as a wizard."
This struck Harry as odd. His face must have shown his doubt, because Draco added, "Oh, he wouldn’t like it. And he’d turn on the Muggle in a heartbeat. But he’d get what he could out of the arrangement for himself first."
"But he stuck with the Death Eaters, even after Voldemort punished him."
Draco nodded. "He did. I think Voldemort might have been the only person who ever scared him." He laughed. "And I bet he’d have killed him too, if the chance arose."
Harry let all that settle, careful not to show how disturbing this was. Rowle was not just someone looking to get revenge for a slight. If he cared for no one but himself, he’d have viewed Draco - and Lucius, for that matter - not as an enemy, but as an obstacle. An obstacle to be eliminated. There would be no negotiating with him. No hesitation on his part to take out anyone and everyone that prevented him accomplishing his goal. And Harry was pretty sure that goal was to eliminate Draco, Lucius and possibly Narcissa. He’d probably get some satisfaction out of getting Harry out of the way too, since he’d been instrumental in causing Rowle’s initial punishment.
Draco got up to get another cup of tea. He took a few steps before stopping. "What’s this?" He kicked Harry’s bag that sat where he’d tossed it when he’d first come in.
Shit. He’d meant to tuck that away in the closet, but had forgotten. "Er."
"Are you staying here?"
Harry ran his hand over the back of his neck. "For a little bit, yeah."
Draco’s eyes widened. "Is this a one-night thing or ..." He left the rest of his sentence hanging.
"Two, actually." At Draco’s puzzled look, he added, "I gave Ginny two days to move out."
After nearly a minute of awkward silence, Draco’s look turned from shocked to amused. "Impressive."
"What?"
"I never would have ... I just figured you’d ... you’re all about forgiveness and ..."
If Harry hadn’t been in such a frazzled state himself, he’d have found Draco’s inability to spit out what he was thinking more humorous. "You sound as articulate as you usually accuse me of being."
"Shut up," he said and a grin tugged at his lips. "It’s just that I’d never have imagined you’d kick her out. That just seems so ..."
"Mean? Spiteful?"
"Normal."
"Gee, thanks." Harry tried to look offended, but based on Draco’s smirk, he didn’t think he’d succeeded.
"Well, I mean really. You forgive people, you help people, you save people. You’re not normal, Potter. You’re constantly putting other people’s interests before your own, and I have to say I’m impressed. It’s high time you did something for you for a change."
"Careful, Malfoy. That almost sounded like a compliment."
Draco shrugged. "It wasn’t meant to be." He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like Hufflepuff. "But, well ... since you probably do find that complimentary, don’t let it go to your head or anything."
Harry chuckled. "I’ll try not to."
"So why are you here? Why not kick her out right away?"
Harry’s face grew warm. "Because that would be mean."
Draco coughed out, "Normal." Harry balled up a piece of parchment and pitched it at his head.
He caught it and lobbed it back at Harry, then went to get his tea. As he sat down with it, he said, "I’ll head out after I’m done this. Leave you to get some rest."
"You don’t have to," Harry said without thinking. As soon as his brain caught up to his mouth, and he realised what that might sound like, he added, "I mean, if it’s going to bother you being there, you can stay a bit longer. I’ll be up for a while yet." He didn’t miss the hint of a smile as Draco sipped his tea.
After a short time, Harry was deep into reading an older report about Rowle’s associates from his younger days when Draco brought him back to the present. "Was it awful?" he asked.
Harry tossed the report onto the table and ran his hands over his face. He didn’t need Draco to explain what it he was referring to. Harry wasn’t sure how to answer. He ran over the events of the day once more - something he’d hoped to escape while he was here. "Not as bad as watching your memory in the Pensieve," he said with conviction.
That seemed to surprise Draco. He sat up straighter and tilted his head to the side, considering Harry. He could practically hear the wheels in Draco’s brain spinning. "How so?"
Harry sighed. He didn’t want to talk about it. After a few minutes of silence, he relented. It’s not like Draco hadn’t already confessed to Harry how he felt, even if he had been drunk. "I don’t know how to describe it, really. I guess it was like watching an oncoming train, unable to get out of its path, watching how Ron and Ginny hammered away at you. I hadn’t seen that side of either of them, and they seemed to be enjoying it. They enjoyed hurting you." Draco’s expression softened. "I hated seeing that and not being able to stop it. It was like a punch to the gut. They looked so pleased with themselves, Ginny in particular, that I wanted to scream at them to stop. And I kinda wanted to punch Ron."
Draco gave a half-grin. "For what it’s worth, I wanted to do the same."
"I wish you had," Harry said. He wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t do just that the next time he saw Ron. "Then, beyond the outward anger I felt at what they were doing to you, there was a raw, burning sensation deep inside me at what they had done to us. That feeling hasn’t left me. They fucked with our lives and they stayed silent about it for five years. Five years! Every passage of time - every week, month, year they said nothing - feels like a new betrayal, something they allowed to happen over and over and over again."
Draco stared at his empty cup. "I should have told you sooner."
Harry nodded. "Yeah, you should have."
"I’m sorry." He spoke to his cup. "I wanted to. So many times I wanted to."
"So why didn’t you?"
"I nearly did, more than once. But then I’d see how well you were doing, and ... it wouldn’t have been fair. You’d moved on, you were making a great life for yourself, and I’d only have held you back."
Harry scowled. "How can you say that?"
"First, you got the Order of Merlin for services during the war. Then there was the dedication of that wing of Hogwarts after the school reopened. Then you set up that house for war orphans."
"Okay," Harry interrupted. The Order of Merlin had been awarded to many people who’d fought in the war, so he’d accepted that and made a point of reinforcing that he’d been just one of many. And yes, the orphanage had been his brainchild, after seeing the serviceable but desolate place Voldemort had grown up in, but he’d wanted to do it quietly and so many others had been instrumental in bringing it to fruition. The Hogwarts wing was just downright embarrassing. He was just a kid that went there, broke a bunch of rules, and blundered his way into ending Voldemort. He still felt weird about it. "But none of that would have changed if you’d told me."
"Maybe not those things, but everything that followed would have, and I knew it. The public loved you - they still do. Like I said, you always put other people before yourself. You’re a war hero with a heart that never hesitates to help anyone that asks."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I’m not perfect."
Draco snorted. "I know that. But the public doesn’t. All they see is what the media chooses to show them. And you’re the media’s darling, even now."
"Arseholes," Harry grunted. "They’d turn on me in an instant if they thought it would help them sell more papers."
"Exactly my point. They would have turned on you in a heartbeat if they’d found out about us." He let that settle before continuing. "Say what you will about the weasel and weaselette, but they weren’t wrong. I watched as you became the unofficial lead of a new generation of Aurors, praised as the top of your class, then assigned to Kingsley’s special task force to eliminate corruption in the Ministry."
"I wasn’t the only one," Harry countered.
Draco ignored him. "You had the highest case clearance rate of any Auror, and got promoted within two years of graduation."
Harry wasn’t sure if he should be flattered that Draco had followed his career so closely, or irritated at the non-stop press coverage he got. "That’s because I poured every ounce of myself into the job."
"You’re in line to become Head Auror and, no doubt, it’s only a matter of time until you’re heading up the DMLE. There are even rumours of your future as Minister of Magic."
Harry nearly choked on that last one. "Good god, could you imagine me trying to navigate the politics of being the Minister?"
Draco chuckled. "Okay, I never bought into that one. You’d be horrible."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Truth be told, it was comforting to have someone acknowledge his shortcomings.
He shrugged. "Well, it’s true and we both know it. But all the rest? That’s you. It’s all you. You deserve every bit of it. Ron was right. You’re a leader and you deserve the chance to make a difference."
He didn’t feel like a leader half the time. But then, the other half of the time he just acted on instinct and people followed his lead. It just came naturally. "Maybe," he conceded.
"Definitely."
"Fine. Even if what you say is true, why would that have stopped you from telling me the truth?"
"Because you’d probably have done something noble and stupid, ruining your chance to prove what you can do."
"Noble and stupid?"
"Yeah, like coming out publicly about us, only to be crucified by the media."
Harry shrugged. "I’ve been through worse."
"Perhaps, perhaps not. But the reality is that the public - at least a good portion of it - would have turned on you and would have challenged everything you did."
"So what? Like I care what everyone says about me. I can -"
Draco raised a hand to stop him. "You might be strong enough to withstand the media and the public - you’ve had a lifetime to hone those skills - but would your bosses be? Even if Kingsley would, could you say the same for every person that would ever have a say in your possible promotion? You may not be Minister, but you know that politics play a big role in everything the Ministry does. And you’d have been right in the middle of it. A liability."
"I -"
"Here’s the thing. Even if I hated what they said to me, they were right. Being with me would have prevented you from achieving your goals. It would have been selfish of me to stay."
Harry didn’t know what to say to that. "What does that even mean? I never wanted you to leave. How could it be selfish for you to do what I wanted?"
He let out an exasperated sigh. "You told me yourself just the other day that you love your job. If you couldn’t have been an Auror, how long would it have been before you resented me?"
Harry thought about that. What life would be like if he weren’t an Auror. Then he thought about what his life had been like without Draco. "I wouldn’t have resented you."
"You probably never would have said anything. Would have stayed with me just to prove a point, no matter how miserable you were. It would have killed me to watch that happen, to watch you grow to loathe me, see you look at me with contempt. So that’s why I never told you. But every now and again I regretted it." He looked Harry in the eye then. "No, that’s not right. I regretted it every single day. But then I’d see an article about you. About how you were the Ministry’s golden boy and how everybody loved you and what an amazing Auror and leader and role model you were. And then I’d tell myself that, no matter how much it hurt, I’d done the right thing. Maybe not for me, but for you."
"But how could you know if it was right for me if you never asked?" Harry tried but failed to keep the pain out of his voice. "You never gave me the chance to make that choice for myself."
"I know, and for that I’m sorry. Really, really sorry." He sounded sorry. Harry remembered the previous night and Draco’s drunken confession and knew he was sorry. But was it enough for Harry to forgive him? "But, like I said before, you would have put me before yourself, like you always do. This was my chance to put you first. For once in my life, I didn’t do the selfish thing."
His words echoed in the silence that followed. Harry broke it by saying, "You put your parents first, too. You weren’t always selfish, no matter what you think."
He waved away Harry’s comment. "Don’t get me wrong, I was angry. So angry that they’d put me in that situation, made me look at myself, made me think about how us being together could hurt you. Made me acknowledge what I already knew: that you deserve so much better than me.
"I won’t lie. It killed me to see you with her, when you eventually got back together. Then I really wanted to tell you. Warn you about her. Fuck this selfless shit; I suck at it. But then I remembered the two of you in school and I figured you’d have a chance at happiness. And your career kept progressing, so as time went on, it just became harder and harder to convince myself that I should tell you. You’d moved on without me and your life was great. Who the hell was I to ruin that? And I convinced myself that, in the end, you’d have ended up hating me anyway, so everyone was better off with a clean break."
"How many times do I have to tell you that I could never hate you?"
Draco ran his hands through his hair, looking utterly miserable. "But I didn’t know that then. We’d spent years hating, or nearly hating each other. And only a few months ... not."
"And the way it ended?" Harry said. "That was anything but a clean break."
"What do you mean? I thought I’d made it clear."
"It came right out of left field, hit me like a bludger to the head. I had no idea, no hint, no inkling that you didn’t feel the same way I did. And then ... out of nowhere. You blindsided me and before I had the chance to process what you were saying, you were gone."
He began to reach for Harry’s hand, but pulled back. "I’m so sorry."
Harry didn’t want to hear how sorry he was. "So you’ve said." His head reeled from the ups and downs of the last few days. Had it really only been a few days since his life had been turned upside down? "So why tell me now? What do you expect from me? What do you want?"
Draco ran fingers over his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, as though warding off a headache. "I did it for you."
"Excuse me?"
"The other day, when you told me ... you said that you had me to thank for never trusting your feelings. I didn’t know."
Harry had a vague recollection of saying something to that effect. "But you didn’t say anything then."
He didn’t seem to hear. "I never meant to hurt you." Harry snorted derisively. "Okay, I knew my words would bite, but we’d said awful things to each other in the past. I figured you’d just chalk it all up to me being the arsehole you always pegged me for, and you’d move on. If I were lucky, you’d remember me as an interesting, if ill-advised, diversion from your past that you’d move on from. I never knew that I had the power to hurt you that deeply."
Harry clenched his jaw but showed no other outward sign that he’d hit the mark. "So you told me to ease your conscience?"
"No." He shook his head and took a moment to continue. Harry used that time to study the distress on his face. He wanted to wipe away the lines between his eyes. "You surprised me when you told me what a lasting impact ... well. But still, I told myself you were better off. And you were happy with her. I hated myself for what I’d said to you, how I’d ended things, but telling you would have only made things worse. I don’t know." He got up and began pacing, eyes darting around like a caged animal looking for escape. "But then you said, so insistently, so emphatically, that it’s always better to know the truth. Always. Especially when it hurts."
"It’s true," Harry said, and he believed that with everything in him. He’d been lied to enough over the years. The truth, no matter what it was, he could deal with. He’d get past the pain.
"Is it really?" He stopped pacing and stood staring at Harry for a good long minute. "Because you look ... well, you look like shit."
Harry ran his hand through his mop of unruly hair. "Yeah? Well, you don’t look so great yourself."
"I’ve been better," Draco acknowledged, slumping back down into his chair. "But seriously, Harry. Please tell me I did the right thing. That I didn’t make things worse for you."
Harry gave a half-hearted grin. "You did the right thing."
"Really? Because I swear I never wanted to ..." He squeezed the back of his neck and rolled his head from side to side. "I never expected you to throw her out of your house."
Harry frowned, puzzled at this statement. "What did you expect me to do? Continue living a lie?"
"I don’t know. I just ... well, you’d been together for so long, I guess I just thought you’d clear the air and move on. Together."
"So you didn’t expect us to break up? Hadn’t hoped that would be the end result?"
He caught Harry’s gaze and held it until it almost became awkward before looking away. "I won’t deny hoping for that in the past. Many times, if I’m honest. But yesterday? I hadn’t thought it through. Hadn’t considered anything beyond telling, or rather showing you the truth."
Harry narrowed his eyes, acutely aware he was dealing with a Slytherin. He wanted to believe Draco, but he couldn’t let his guard down. He felt raw enough already. "So what would you say if I were to suggest ... oh, I don’t know ... let’s get together, scratch that itch, just one more time?" Draco’s head shot up and his eyes widened. Harry leaned across the table towards him. "You know, for old time’s sake."
Draco pulled back. "That’s not funny."
Harry sat back slowly and crossed his arms over his chest. "I’m not laughing."
Draco’s mouth went slack and he stared at Harry. Kept staring, eyes boring into Harry’s own. "I -"
"Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it."
He blinked. "Nearly every day for five years."
"So what’s the problem, then?"
His face hardened and a mask of indifference fell over his features. "What are you playing at?"
Harry shrugged. "Isn’t this what you suggested yourself? How had you put it? Should I want to fuck occasionally. I think those were your words. On the side and in private, of course. Not that either of us would be doing it on the side, now, but still. This is private. And no one need ever know."
Draco winced. "I didn’t mean that."
"No? Then why say it?"
"Because I knew you’d never do that."
Harry smirked. "True. I would never knowingly do something that would hurt someone else - your wife, for instance."
"Harry, please. I told you I was sorry. I came up with the best way I knew how to get you to not want to be with me."
Harry wasn’t sure where all this was coming from, but it seemed all his old pain and hurt, and his desperate need for answers, for the truth, had bubbled up to the surface. And while he had Draco here, he would get what answers he could. Today. Now. "See, now that’s what I don’t understand. It’s like you were trying to make me hate you. Why do that? Why not just break things off and move on?"
Once more, he got up. At first Harry thought he was going to leave, but then he started to pace again. Harry let the silence stretch. He had all night, after all. Eventually, Draco spoke. "Because I didn’t think I was strong enough. If I had to face you again, see you look at me with anything but loathing in your eyes, I don’t think I could have kept the truth from you. I don’t think I could have stopped myself reaching out. Touching you. Kissing you." He stopped his pacing and leaned his forehead against the wall and mumbled, "I can barely do that now, all this time later."
Harry could understand that. Just seeing Draco again had brought everything back to the forefront of his mind. He would never act on his feelings, not while he was with Ginny. And not while he was on the case investigating threats against Draco. But he couldn’t deny how hard it was to be around Draco. To fight his feelings.
"So, then. If I asked you, again, to just ... you know. Fuck. One more time. Your answer would be?"
He let out a moan, then pushed away from the wall, turned around and leaned back against it, closing his eyes and banging his head lightly against the surface. "Are you trying to kill me?" His voice cracked.
"No," Harry said. "Just asking a simple question."
Draco laughed but his eyes squeezed together in pain. "But that’s just it, isn’t it? Nothing’s ever been simple between us."
"And?"
"And my answer would be no, because I don’t think I could walk away again. And if I could, I wouldn’t want some one-off fuck to be what I remember of us."
"So you really wouldn’t?"
"Of course I would!" he shouted, pushing away from the wall and marching over to stand in front of Harry. He put his hands on the table and leaned in. "I would say no because I know that would be the right thing to do. For self-preservation, if nothing else. But all you’d have to do is look at me the way you used to. Or smile at me. Or touch me. And I’d be lost. I’d do whatever you wanted for however long I could. Because I’m utterly defenceless when it comes to you."
"Okay," Harry said. "Just so we’re clear."
Draco stood back up, looking utterly spent, and took several deep breaths. "I should go."
"Probably best," Harry agreed.
It was only after several hours of tossing and turning, his mind processing all the events of the past few days, that Harry finally relented and took out the phial of Dreamless Sleep he’d packed. He poured the liquid down his throat and saw Draco’s face one last time before the potion took hold and he drifted into darkness.
Continued in Part 13