Malicious Intent - Part 17 (H/D)
Title: Malicious Intent - Part 17
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.
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[Malicious Intent - Part 17]
Malicious Intent - Part 17
Harry felt marginally better after he took a hot shower to wash away the anger from his conversation with Ron. He swallowed back a good measure of firewhiskey before refilling his glass and sending a message letting Draco know he’d returned. He was halfway through his second glass when Draco arrived.
He eyed Harry’s glass, noticed his wet hair and looked around the room. "Seems to me you weren’t gone long enough to have eaten and had a shower after returning, am I right?"
Harry shot back the balance of the glass and gave a curt nod. "Couldn’t stomach any food."
Draco raised a brow - Harry ignored the judgement in the move - and motioned to Harry’s glass. "How much of that have you been able to stomach?"
"This is my second glass, Mum. Thanks for asking."
Draco snorted. "And before that?"
"A couple of pints. Is that it for the inquisition?"
Draco shrugged. "Suit yourself. I did bring alcohol." He held up a bottle of wine and a bottle of firewhiskey. "No doubt better than the swill you’re currently imbibing, though I don’t know that the quality matters much to you."
"Right now? Not particularly, no."
Draco put down the bottles and with a wave of his wand, two platters appeared. "I thought this might happen, so I took it upon myself to prepare some sustenance to counteract - or at least slow down - the effects of a vat of whiskey on your body."
"You cooked for me?" Draco nodded. "You prepared the meal?"
"I have been known to cook on occasion, yes."
"Really?"
Draco smacked his arm. "Yes, really. It’s nothing like you might get at Hogwarts or the Manor, but it’s perfectly edible." He waved his wand several times, clearing the table, setting it, then placing the food upon it.
When he removed the covers from the platters, Harry breathed in deeply. "It smells delicious." His mouth began to water and he realised he was, in fact, hungry.
Draco smirked. "It’s just pasta and garlic bread, but I do make a mean marinara, if I do say so myself." He motioned for Harry to eat.
When he noticed no plate for Draco, Harry asked, "Aren’t you eating?"
Draco shook his head. "I ate already. I thought you might have done too while you were out." He eyed Harry’s glass again. "But on the off chance it didn’t go well, I prepared extra figuring you could use some food and knowing you probably wouldn’t get anything for yourself. The carbs should do a bang-up job of absorbing some of the alcohol in your body."
Harry picked up a fork and dug in. "Who says I want to absorb the alcohol?"
Draco poured out two glasses of wine and placed one in front of Harry. As an afterthought, he exchanged Harry’s firewhiskey glass for one of water, giving Harry a pointed look as he plunked it down in front of him. "I’d wager your head will thank me in the morning."
Harry shrugged, now unable to speak with a mouthful of pasta. When he swallowed, he managed, "That’s what hangover potions are for."
"Too true, but they don’t alleviate all the effects. I always feel a bit off, even if not horrifically hungover. I find it’s best to not get there in the first place."
Harry snorted, remembering a night not too long ago when Draco was far from sober himself. He opted not to point this out. He had brought Harry dinner, after all. "This tastes even better than it smells. Thanks."
"You’re welcome. Now stop talking and eat."
Harry didn’t need telling twice. They sat in companionable silence while he wolfed down the meal. When at last he’d finished, Draco grinned. "For someone who wasn’t hungry, you certainly cleared your plate well enough."
Harry waved the dishes off to the counter and took a sip of another exceptionally delicious wine. "Mm. Must have been the company."
"I make you hungry?"
Harry’s stomach tensed. Draco made him hungry alright, but not for food. Once more he kept his thoughts to himself. "More like Ron’s company tonight turned me off. I hadn’t realised how famished I was until I had food placed in front of me. Thanks for that."
"You’re welcome. So ... now that you’ve eaten and are likely as relaxed as you’re going to get tonight, tell me what happened."
Harry picked up his wine glass and took a long sip. "Ron’s a stubborn git, that’s what happened."
Draco coughed something that sounded curiously like cauldron and kettle. Harry glared at him. "So what else is new? He’s stubborn, you’re stubborn. Did you at least get to tell him how pissed off you are?"
"Well, yeah, but he still doesn’t get that he did anything wrong."
"So he didn’t apologise?"
Harry recalled the half-arsed explanation Ron had given. "Not in any meaningful way, no."
Draco looked over the rim of his glass curiously. "Define meaningful."
Harry finished his glass of wine with an appreciative hum. "I mean he said sorry, but didn’t mean it."
"And you know this how?"
"I know him. He’s only sorry he got caught." Harry ran his hand through his hair. "And he keeps up with the excuses, as though he still thinks what he did was right."
Draco swirled the remains of his wine and stared into the liquid for a time before responding. "What if he never means it, if he never really apologises? Then what? Do you think there’ll come a time when you can just agree to disagree and move on?"
Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t really answer that because he didn’t know what the truth was. Could he forgive Ron? He might be able to forgive Gin, but Ron, he wasn’t so sure. Ron knew him better than anyone, better even than Hermione. He didn’t know if he could get past this. Ever. No matter what Ron said or did. Even if he apologised and meant it.
Before he had a chance to answer, Draco asked, "Can you ever imagine forgiving him?" Harry just stared blankly but said nothing. "I mean, you’re all about forgiveness. Look at me. You’ve forgiven me for all sorts of shit I’ve done over the years, and there was a lot."
"True, but Ron knows me."
"I know you, too."
Harry shook his head. "Not like Ron. He knows pretty much all there is to know about me. About my past. Things only he and Hermione know."
Draco pursed his lips as though the thought irritated him, but he recovered quickly. "And that changes how you feel about him? Makes you incapable of forgiving him? Or makes him unworthy of forgiveness?"
"Yes." Harry ran his hands through his hair again. "No. I don’t know. I can’t explain it properly. My past, what he did, it all relates."
"I don’t know what you mean."
"I know. I’m not making any sense."
"You know you never really told me about your past. Not really. Nothing from before school."
"You didn’t tell me much either."
Draco considered this before nodding. "I think maybe we were in a place when we really needed to look forward, so we never took the time to look back."
Harry shrugged. "I guess. But it’s more than that."
"How so?"
"I don’t like talking about my past. It wasn’t a particularly happy time in my life."
Draco raised a brow. "Worse than Voldemort?"
"Well, no," Harry conceded. "But in some ways it was nearly as bad. And Ron knows about my past. He knows that, of all people, he shouldn’t have done what he did." Harry started to fidget. He hated even thinking back to that time.
"Hey." Draco put a hand over Harry’s now shaking knee. Harry hadn’t even noticed him getting up. "I’m not going to force you to talk about it - it’s not like I’m in any position to anyway - but I’d like to understand why you’re being so hard on the weasel. Not that I think he deserves any better, but he is your best friend and I can see this is getting to you and it’s more than anger."
"It’s just ... he did to me what he knew would ..."
"Would what?"
Harry stood up and looked for his whiskey glass. "I’m gonna need a lot more alcohol if I’m going to talk about my childhood." He walked to the counter and poured himself a triple before returning to the table with it. His whole body shook and he just stared into the glass, already back in the cupboard at Privet Drive.
"I know it wasn’t pleasant." Draco frowned. "I’ve heard the rumours. But I always figured that’s all they were - rumours."
Harry squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then took a fortifying breath and swig. He looked back at Draco, saw the concern and curiosity in his gaze. He could trust this man. He knew he could. Against all odds, perhaps, but there you go. "Most are, I guess. Well, I think they are anyway, since I try not to listen to speculation about myself." He sipped his drink. "But yeah, it was pretty bad."
"So tell me."
Harry nodded, figuring it was probably long past time to open up about it. "I don’t like talking about it," he said again, "but maybe I should."
"For what it’s worth, I won’t tell anyone."
Harry shrugged and smiled. "I know. I trust you." Draco’s eyes widened. "Don’t look so surprised."
"But I am. I mean ... after everything ... after, well ..."
"Right." Harry swirled the liquid in his glass and sipped some more, knowing he needed some serious liquid courage for this conversation. "You know the story: Voldemort killed my parents and tried to kill me when I was a year old. What you didn’t know is what happened when he tried to kill me, which I’ll come back to. Anyway, Dumbledore sent Hagrid to get me out of there and he took me to my aunt and uncle’s house."
"The Muggles."
"Right. Only there weren’t your regular Muggles. See, they knew about magic because of my parents. But my aunt was jealous of her sister and had grown to hate everything about magic. So they kept it all from me."
"You didn’t know?"
"Nope. They told me that my parents were killed in a car crash, which was where my scar came from. And they tried to suppress any hint of magic, so they could ... how did my uncle put it? Oh, yeah, they tried to stamp it out of me. I got punished every time I had an incidence of uncontrolled magic."
Draco fidgeted in his seat. "Go on."
"So I lived in a cupboard and was never told who I was and --"
"Wait a minute. Back up there. What’s that about a cupboard?"
"My room was the cupboard under the stairs. I had a mattress and ... well, not much else. They locked me in there fairly regularly, sometimes for days if I was being punished, and it was pretty horrible."
Draco’s face reddened, his jaw clenched and his wand hand twitched. "I ... what the fuck kind of people are your aunt and uncle?"
"They aren’t typical Muggles, like I said. My aunt was jealous and my uncle figured if they pushed me down enough, made sure I never knew about my past, about myself, about my parents, maybe the magic would never come out in me. And when it did, they lied to me about it. They knew what was happening, but until I was eleven, I didn’t have a clue that I was a wizard or that magic was real."
"But ... what did your friends do? Didn’t they say something about the way you were treated? Try to help? Tell their parents? A teacher? Aren’t there laws against treating children that way?"
Harry shrugged. "I didn’t have any friends. My cousin saw to that. He would beat up anyone that even tried to be nice to me. So yeah. I didn’t go to any teachers or anything because what good would it have done?"
"I- I can’t believe-" Draco looked ready to punch something. "I’m so sorry. You don’t have to-"
Harry took another swig of his firewhiskey. "No need to be sorry. It’s just ... well, it’s been a really long time since I told anyone all of this, and ... it’s harder than I expected it might be. I think if I just spill it all out at once, it’ll be easier."
"Go on then."
"Right. Where was I? Oh, right. No friends. So I had no friends, no real family, I lived in a cupboard and had spiders for company. Not much of a childhood. Fast forward to my eleventh birthday, or just before. All these Hogwarts letters started arriving, but my uncle took them all and burned them. Wouldn’t even let me read them. Took us all away to escape them. Only on my birthday, right at midnight, Hagrid showed up to hand deliver me my first ever birthday cake." He smiled at the memory. "That and a Hogwarts letter. My uncle tried to stop him, but for the first time in my life, someone stood up for me. He told me I was a wizard and that I’d be going to Hogwarts. Long story short, my aunt and uncle weren’t happy, but they couldn’t do anything about it."
Draco smiled. Then the smile slid off his face. "So Hagrid was the first person from the wizarding world you’d met?"
Harry nodded. "First one I knew about anyway. And, if you can believe it, you were the first wizard my age I’d ever met."
"I was?"
"Mm hmm. Madam Malkin’s."
"But ... you never said."
Harry shrugged. "I already felt overwhelmed and then you went on about brooms and Quidditch and school houses and all I kept thinking was that I didn’t have a clue what you were talking about. And I didn’t want to tell you that, so ... well. Then you insulted Hagrid and I didn’t much care what you said after that."
"Fuck, I was a prat back then."
Harry grinned and raised his glass in a toast. "That you were, Malfoy." Draco tried to glare at him, but the pain in his features took the sting out of it. "But it’s all good. Hagrid filled me in on some of the stuff and it turned out to be the best birthday I’d ever had, before I had to go back to the Dursleys."
"You went back there? Why?"
Harry shrugged. "It was my home. Didn’t have anywhere else to go, did I? Anyway, after I got back there I had a whole month before school and I started doubting everything. Then when my uncle took me to the train station, he laughed at me, having a ticket for a non-existing platform, and left me between platforms nine and ten, figuring it was all a big joke."
Draco waved his wand and the good bottle of firewhiskey and two fresh glasses flew to the table. He poured them both a good measure, shoving the dregs of Harry’s substandard whiskey to the side. "And he left you - an eleven year old - alone at King’s Cross Station, even though he thought it was all a joke?"
"Er ... yeah." The question threw Harry - he hadn’t really given it much thought since. "I imagine he didn’t much care what happened to me, and just hoped I’d be gone for good."
"That motherfucker." Now Draco was shaking.
Harry grinned slightly. "It’s okay. It all worked out. I ran into the Weasleys and they helped me get onto the platform and the rest is history."
Draco mumbled something into his glass as he drank his whiskey.
Harry took another sip. "So that’s my family."
"And you went back there again? After going to Hogwarts? Couldn’t you have ... I dunno ... stayed at the school? Or with the Weasleys?"
"Well, the Weasleys didn’t really know me, did they? They only saw me the once at King’s Cross. Besides, I had to go back."
"Why the hell would you have to do that?"
Harry took another sip. Distantly he registered just how much better it was than the swill Draco’d commented on earlier. "Because Dumbledore had invoked ancient magic to protect me. As long as I lived under my family’s roof, Voldemort couldn’t get to me."
Draco seemed to calm at this. "So Dumbledore told you all this? How did you react when you found out what had really happened to your parents? That Voldemort had tried to kill you?"
Harry let out a derisive snort. "Yeah, that’s not quite how it happened." He reached for the bottle and topped up both their glasses. "Hagrid had told me about Voldemort before and I heard all sorts of stuff at school - which is weird, by the way, hearing things about yourself from strangers. But Dumbledore kept pretty much everything from me. Only told me what he thought I needed to know."
"Wait. Didn’t you fight Voldemort off that first year too? What did Dumbledore tell you about that? And when? And when did he know?"
Harry laughed. "So I can probably do a full-on interview with you later, where I can tell you all about my life, but for now I’ll sum it up by saying that Dumbledore kept everything to himself, releasing little bits of information at a time. When it was most convenient. For him." Harry couldn’t keep the resentment out of his voice. "It was all in my best interest, of course."
Draco snorted. "Sure it was."
Harry swigged back some whiskey. "Exactly. It was always what worked for him. He thought he knew what was best - at the time I thought it was what was best for me but I learned the truth later on."
"So what did he say when you confronted him?"
Harry sighed. "He was already dead when I found out."
"Then how did you-?"
"Snape."
"Snape told you?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes. As he lay dying, he gave me his memories. I watched them in Dumbledore’s Pensieve and ... well, then I knew."
Draco no longer looked angry, but curious. "Knew what?"
"That Dumbledore had kept the most important information from me until it was time for me to die."
"Wait. What?"
Harry got up and began pacing the room. "Remember I said that something happened the night Voldemort killed my parents?"
"Yes."
"Well, he’d been creating Horcruxes - objects that contained pieces of his soul, so that he would be immortal, unable to die - and I guess he’d planned to create another that night. Only when his spell didn’t work on me, a piece of his soul ended up inside of me."
Draco’s jaw dropped and he stared at Harry. Harry pointed to his scar. Draco finished his whiskey and poured them both another. "You had a piece of Voldemort’s soul inside you?" Harry nodded. "And Dumbledore knew that." He nodded again. "And he didn’t tell you."
"That’s right. Even when he told me about the Horcruxes and his theory - only when he himself was dying and needed me to carry on the search, of course - he conveniently left out that I was the last Horcrux. And that I would have to die in order for anyone to ever be able to kill Voldemort."
"He was setting you up to die?"
Harry nodded. "As Snape put it, like a pig to the slaughter. But, hey, it was all for the greater good."
"I - I don’t know what to say."
"Not much to say really. Basically my whole life people kept things from me, lied to me, manipulated me and the people around me. Controlled my life without my ever knowing."
"And Ron knew all this?"
"Yeah, he and Hermione knew. They’re the only people I’ve told. Until now." Harry laughed. "It’s funny, really. Ron was angrier with Dumbledore than I was and he doesn’t get how hypocritical he’s being. He just doesn’t see it."
"So when the weasel and weaselette ..."
"Exactly. Ginny never knew, so I’m not as furious with her. I’m pissed, yeah, but she didn’t know just how much of a betrayal that was, them going to you and then keeping it from me for years. Forever, I’m sure, if you hadn’t told me."
"I should have told you sooner."
"Yeah, you should have. But then you didn’t know either." He drank the last of his whiskey and put the glass down. "But now you do."
"I feel like there’s still a lot you aren’t telling me."
"True, but those are the low lights. In a nutshell, I’ve been manipulated my whole life and I swore it would never happen again. But then the last person I ever expected ... well. So that’s why I’m so pissed at Ron. And it’s why I don’t know if I can ever forgive him."
"That’s understandable." He opened his mouth to ask more, but then closed it again.
They sat silently sipping on their whiskey, each lost in thought. When Draco spoke again, he switched subjects. "So, did you get to the office?"
"Oh, right. I can’t believe I forgot to mention that." Had it only been hours ago? It felt like days. "I confirmed Rowle’s magical signature."
"But he couldn’t get in this time."
"Right. You know, that still bothers me."
"What does?"
"How he managed to get past your wards. They aren’t easy to break through." Draco wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Harry chuckled. "Relax. I know they’re not exactly Ministry-approved wards." Draco’s eyes widened. "You don’t think mine are, do you?"
"I-" He narrowed his eyes at Harry. "No, I suppose you wouldn’t much care about rules like that."
Harry grinned. "Exactly. And I’m not about to report you either, so don’t worry." He understood Draco’s concern. No one at the Ministry really gave a damn about the levels of wards people kept at their homes, unless they were set to injure as well as secure, or if they alerted Muggles to the presence of magic. But technically they could charge someone with breaking the law. And, given his past - and the level of animosity many at the Ministry had for the Malfoys - Draco wouldn’t want to risk officials finding out. Harry hoped that no one would be so petty, but who knew for sure?
"So now what?"
"Now we continue to wait. And keep watch for anything out of the ordinary. His direct line to you is now broken off; that might push him to do something."
Draco tried to look unaffected, but Harry could see concern in his eyes. "Like what?"
Harry didn’t want to worry Draco too much, but he did need to be cautious. "This is Rowle we’re talking about. I wouldn’t put anything past him."
***
The next day saw no progress in the case and Harry was glad of it. He received notification that Ginny had dropped by the house, but he waited until she’d left before he returned to Grimmauld. She’d taken the box Harry’d put her remaining things into but this time had left no note. Just a hint of her perfume lingered, the only sign she’d been there. Perhaps she’d finally got the message. Or perhaps Ron had told her what Harry had said. Whatever the case, with a quick wave of his wand, he confirmed that nothing of hers remained. He took a deep, calming breath and then, with a heavy heart, reset his wards to keep her and Ron out. He was tempted to do the same for all the Weasleys but could find no good reason for it. The rest of the family had done nothing wrong. They might agree with Ron and Ginny’s actions, if they ever found out, but they’d played no hand in them. Besides, they were Harry’s family too. At least he hoped they still were.
That done, he spent the day cleaning and putting away the overt reminders of his and Ginny’s time together. He left a few Weasley family photos, but by the time he was done, he was confident that he wouldn’t have constant reminders of Ginny everywhere he turned. Eventually he’d touch up the place, redecorate a bit to make it truly his own, but for now this would have to do.
Even though the place felt empty, it was good to be home.
The following day, Harry was at the office, once more going through Rowle’s extensive file, looking for something - anything - he might have missed before, when the coin in his pocket burned.
Lab broken into. Left a note.
Adrenaline pumped through him. Are you okay?
Yes. Arrived to find mess.
He breathed a sigh of relief. He bloody well should have warded Draco’s lab before this. That was sloppy. Be right there. He returned Rowle’s file to records and was out the door in no time.
He Apparated to the lab and found a shaken Draco staring at the devastation. "Holy shit."
Draco turned angry eyes towards Harry. "He destroyed everything." His hands balled into fists at his sides. "What’s the point of that? I mean look at this place!"
Harry wanted to comfort him, but had to focus on the case. "Did you touch anything?"
"No. I walked in and found this disaster. I did cast a stasis charm over the lot, in case volatile ingredients came into contact with each other, but otherwise left everything as it was. Then I messaged you."
"Okay, then. Let me call the forensics team out."
"Is that necessary?"
"Yes, Draco. This isn’t just your private residence full of innocuous contents. This is a laboratory with chemicals and other substances that, combined in the wrong way, could pose a public danger. It needs to be contained and evacuation of neighbouring units might be in order."
Draco wrapped his arms around his sides, like he had done when his flat had been broken into. Only this time he was more angry than scared. "Fine," he said. "But there shouldn’t be anything to concern anyone but me. Any damage caused by potential reactions would be localised and non-lethal."
"Okay, good to know. Is there anything missing?"
Draco frowned. "I didn’t check. I mean everything’s destroyed, except for a few things on the shelves. I’m not even sure my equipment can be repaired. Some of it is rather delicate."
"Do you have an accurate inventory to compare to?"
He nodded. With a sigh, he withdrew his wand and cast several spells. After a few moments, he inhaled sharply. "Oh my god!"
"What is it?" Harry asked. "Should we leave? Evacuate the area? Is there something wrong?"
Draco’s face reddened and his wand arm shook. "That fucker!"
"What?"
He pointed his wand at the distant cabinet. An entire shelf of vials remained unbroken. "Over there. The fucker planted illegal potions in my lab. That bastard!"
"He what?"
"Controlled substances," Draco said. "Drugs. Illegal drugs. Highly addictive and illegal substances in my fucking lab!"
"Relax, Draco."
He turned on Harry, face furious. "How the fuck am I supposed to relax when that fucker planted illicit substances in my lab? He obviously wants them found so I get thrown in prison!"
Harry placed a hand on his shoulder but Draco shrugged it off. "You’re not going to prison," Harry assured him.
"Oh, really? You mean the forensics team that you have to call out to the scene won’t notice? You know, those potions experts and scientists that are trained to detect such things will simply overlook it and say nothing?"
"Relax, Draco."
"Stop telling me to relax!"
"Fine," Harry said, resisting the urge to shake some sense into him. "Don’t relax." He pulled out his kit bag and expanded it to its regular size. "I’m going to start cataloguing the scene. You make sure there’s nothing else in here that doesn’t belong and let me know if anything’s missing." He then withdrew a camera and began taking photos and making notes. Once he was done all that, he withdrew evidence bags and placed all undamaged vials from the cabinet into them, labelling them with their location as he went. "Anything else here that doesn’t belong?"
Draco shook his head. "Not that I can see. And it looks like all my equipment is here, however damaged it may be. But as for the potions and ingredients, I can’t tell for sure what’s missing or damaged until I return everything to its original state. Then I can count everything."
Harry nodded and pointed to the evidence bags. "Tell me which of these aren’t yours."
Draco pointed to six different bags. "Those."
Harry nodded, wrote ‘Planted’ on each bag and numbered them one through six. Then he put the bags and his camera into his kit bag and sent the whole thing to his hotel room.
"What are you doing?" Draco asked.
"Protecting you."
"Are you insane? I can’t ask you to do that."
"You didn’t ask me to."
"Harry, no. You can’t."
"I just did."
"You can’t destroy evidence. You can’t ruin your career. I won’t let you." Harry’s shoulders shook as he tried not to laugh. "It’s not funny!"
Harry’s laughter subsided and he became serious. "I know it’s not funny. Rowle is trying to ruin your life. He did something stupid and may have fucked up."
"But Harry."
Harry held up a hand. "I’m not destroying anything. I took photographs of the scene and I collected the evidence. I will include everything in my report and the files. Eventually. But it won’t do anyone - least of all you - any good to have you thrown in prison. And I’m not wasting resources investigating you instead of real criminals."
"But you’ll get in -"
"I won’t be in any trouble. I’ve been given a great deal of latitude on this case, from the Minister and Head Auror directly. Their concerns remain. They were worried about the bias in the department against you, and this would only serve to cause a distraction. I’ll inform them of these developments and explain what I’m doing. And together we’ll decide where to have the contents of the vials analysed, and hopefully we can come up with something linking them to Rowle. I’ll also tell them that you volunteered the information about these potions and that you had ample time to dispose of them before I arrived, had they been yours. Okay?"
"So you’re not putting your career at risk for me."
"No, I’m not." Draco’s shoulders relaxed and Harry sent a Patronus to the forensics team. "But I would, you know."
"Yeah," Draco scowled. "That’s what I’m afraid of."
TBC
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 17]
Malicious Intent - Part 17
Harry felt marginally better after he took a hot shower to wash away the anger from his conversation with Ron. He swallowed back a good measure of firewhiskey before refilling his glass and sending a message letting Draco know he’d returned. He was halfway through his second glass when Draco arrived.
He eyed Harry’s glass, noticed his wet hair and looked around the room. "Seems to me you weren’t gone long enough to have eaten and had a shower after returning, am I right?"
Harry shot back the balance of the glass and gave a curt nod. "Couldn’t stomach any food."
Draco raised a brow - Harry ignored the judgement in the move - and motioned to Harry’s glass. "How much of that have you been able to stomach?"
"This is my second glass, Mum. Thanks for asking."
Draco snorted. "And before that?"
"A couple of pints. Is that it for the inquisition?"
Draco shrugged. "Suit yourself. I did bring alcohol." He held up a bottle of wine and a bottle of firewhiskey. "No doubt better than the swill you’re currently imbibing, though I don’t know that the quality matters much to you."
"Right now? Not particularly, no."
Draco put down the bottles and with a wave of his wand, two platters appeared. "I thought this might happen, so I took it upon myself to prepare some sustenance to counteract - or at least slow down - the effects of a vat of whiskey on your body."
"You cooked for me?" Draco nodded. "You prepared the meal?"
"I have been known to cook on occasion, yes."
"Really?"
Draco smacked his arm. "Yes, really. It’s nothing like you might get at Hogwarts or the Manor, but it’s perfectly edible." He waved his wand several times, clearing the table, setting it, then placing the food upon it.
When he removed the covers from the platters, Harry breathed in deeply. "It smells delicious." His mouth began to water and he realised he was, in fact, hungry.
Draco smirked. "It’s just pasta and garlic bread, but I do make a mean marinara, if I do say so myself." He motioned for Harry to eat.
When he noticed no plate for Draco, Harry asked, "Aren’t you eating?"
Draco shook his head. "I ate already. I thought you might have done too while you were out." He eyed Harry’s glass again. "But on the off chance it didn’t go well, I prepared extra figuring you could use some food and knowing you probably wouldn’t get anything for yourself. The carbs should do a bang-up job of absorbing some of the alcohol in your body."
Harry picked up a fork and dug in. "Who says I want to absorb the alcohol?"
Draco poured out two glasses of wine and placed one in front of Harry. As an afterthought, he exchanged Harry’s firewhiskey glass for one of water, giving Harry a pointed look as he plunked it down in front of him. "I’d wager your head will thank me in the morning."
Harry shrugged, now unable to speak with a mouthful of pasta. When he swallowed, he managed, "That’s what hangover potions are for."
"Too true, but they don’t alleviate all the effects. I always feel a bit off, even if not horrifically hungover. I find it’s best to not get there in the first place."
Harry snorted, remembering a night not too long ago when Draco was far from sober himself. He opted not to point this out. He had brought Harry dinner, after all. "This tastes even better than it smells. Thanks."
"You’re welcome. Now stop talking and eat."
Harry didn’t need telling twice. They sat in companionable silence while he wolfed down the meal. When at last he’d finished, Draco grinned. "For someone who wasn’t hungry, you certainly cleared your plate well enough."
Harry waved the dishes off to the counter and took a sip of another exceptionally delicious wine. "Mm. Must have been the company."
"I make you hungry?"
Harry’s stomach tensed. Draco made him hungry alright, but not for food. Once more he kept his thoughts to himself. "More like Ron’s company tonight turned me off. I hadn’t realised how famished I was until I had food placed in front of me. Thanks for that."
"You’re welcome. So ... now that you’ve eaten and are likely as relaxed as you’re going to get tonight, tell me what happened."
Harry picked up his wine glass and took a long sip. "Ron’s a stubborn git, that’s what happened."
Draco coughed something that sounded curiously like cauldron and kettle. Harry glared at him. "So what else is new? He’s stubborn, you’re stubborn. Did you at least get to tell him how pissed off you are?"
"Well, yeah, but he still doesn’t get that he did anything wrong."
"So he didn’t apologise?"
Harry recalled the half-arsed explanation Ron had given. "Not in any meaningful way, no."
Draco looked over the rim of his glass curiously. "Define meaningful."
Harry finished his glass of wine with an appreciative hum. "I mean he said sorry, but didn’t mean it."
"And you know this how?"
"I know him. He’s only sorry he got caught." Harry ran his hand through his hair. "And he keeps up with the excuses, as though he still thinks what he did was right."
Draco swirled the remains of his wine and stared into the liquid for a time before responding. "What if he never means it, if he never really apologises? Then what? Do you think there’ll come a time when you can just agree to disagree and move on?"
Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t really answer that because he didn’t know what the truth was. Could he forgive Ron? He might be able to forgive Gin, but Ron, he wasn’t so sure. Ron knew him better than anyone, better even than Hermione. He didn’t know if he could get past this. Ever. No matter what Ron said or did. Even if he apologised and meant it.
Before he had a chance to answer, Draco asked, "Can you ever imagine forgiving him?" Harry just stared blankly but said nothing. "I mean, you’re all about forgiveness. Look at me. You’ve forgiven me for all sorts of shit I’ve done over the years, and there was a lot."
"True, but Ron knows me."
"I know you, too."
Harry shook his head. "Not like Ron. He knows pretty much all there is to know about me. About my past. Things only he and Hermione know."
Draco pursed his lips as though the thought irritated him, but he recovered quickly. "And that changes how you feel about him? Makes you incapable of forgiving him? Or makes him unworthy of forgiveness?"
"Yes." Harry ran his hands through his hair again. "No. I don’t know. I can’t explain it properly. My past, what he did, it all relates."
"I don’t know what you mean."
"I know. I’m not making any sense."
"You know you never really told me about your past. Not really. Nothing from before school."
"You didn’t tell me much either."
Draco considered this before nodding. "I think maybe we were in a place when we really needed to look forward, so we never took the time to look back."
Harry shrugged. "I guess. But it’s more than that."
"How so?"
"I don’t like talking about my past. It wasn’t a particularly happy time in my life."
Draco raised a brow. "Worse than Voldemort?"
"Well, no," Harry conceded. "But in some ways it was nearly as bad. And Ron knows about my past. He knows that, of all people, he shouldn’t have done what he did." Harry started to fidget. He hated even thinking back to that time.
"Hey." Draco put a hand over Harry’s now shaking knee. Harry hadn’t even noticed him getting up. "I’m not going to force you to talk about it - it’s not like I’m in any position to anyway - but I’d like to understand why you’re being so hard on the weasel. Not that I think he deserves any better, but he is your best friend and I can see this is getting to you and it’s more than anger."
"It’s just ... he did to me what he knew would ..."
"Would what?"
Harry stood up and looked for his whiskey glass. "I’m gonna need a lot more alcohol if I’m going to talk about my childhood." He walked to the counter and poured himself a triple before returning to the table with it. His whole body shook and he just stared into the glass, already back in the cupboard at Privet Drive.
"I know it wasn’t pleasant." Draco frowned. "I’ve heard the rumours. But I always figured that’s all they were - rumours."
Harry squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then took a fortifying breath and swig. He looked back at Draco, saw the concern and curiosity in his gaze. He could trust this man. He knew he could. Against all odds, perhaps, but there you go. "Most are, I guess. Well, I think they are anyway, since I try not to listen to speculation about myself." He sipped his drink. "But yeah, it was pretty bad."
"So tell me."
Harry nodded, figuring it was probably long past time to open up about it. "I don’t like talking about it," he said again, "but maybe I should."
"For what it’s worth, I won’t tell anyone."
Harry shrugged and smiled. "I know. I trust you." Draco’s eyes widened. "Don’t look so surprised."
"But I am. I mean ... after everything ... after, well ..."
"Right." Harry swirled the liquid in his glass and sipped some more, knowing he needed some serious liquid courage for this conversation. "You know the story: Voldemort killed my parents and tried to kill me when I was a year old. What you didn’t know is what happened when he tried to kill me, which I’ll come back to. Anyway, Dumbledore sent Hagrid to get me out of there and he took me to my aunt and uncle’s house."
"The Muggles."
"Right. Only there weren’t your regular Muggles. See, they knew about magic because of my parents. But my aunt was jealous of her sister and had grown to hate everything about magic. So they kept it all from me."
"You didn’t know?"
"Nope. They told me that my parents were killed in a car crash, which was where my scar came from. And they tried to suppress any hint of magic, so they could ... how did my uncle put it? Oh, yeah, they tried to stamp it out of me. I got punished every time I had an incidence of uncontrolled magic."
Draco fidgeted in his seat. "Go on."
"So I lived in a cupboard and was never told who I was and --"
"Wait a minute. Back up there. What’s that about a cupboard?"
"My room was the cupboard under the stairs. I had a mattress and ... well, not much else. They locked me in there fairly regularly, sometimes for days if I was being punished, and it was pretty horrible."
Draco’s face reddened, his jaw clenched and his wand hand twitched. "I ... what the fuck kind of people are your aunt and uncle?"
"They aren’t typical Muggles, like I said. My aunt was jealous and my uncle figured if they pushed me down enough, made sure I never knew about my past, about myself, about my parents, maybe the magic would never come out in me. And when it did, they lied to me about it. They knew what was happening, but until I was eleven, I didn’t have a clue that I was a wizard or that magic was real."
"But ... what did your friends do? Didn’t they say something about the way you were treated? Try to help? Tell their parents? A teacher? Aren’t there laws against treating children that way?"
Harry shrugged. "I didn’t have any friends. My cousin saw to that. He would beat up anyone that even tried to be nice to me. So yeah. I didn’t go to any teachers or anything because what good would it have done?"
"I- I can’t believe-" Draco looked ready to punch something. "I’m so sorry. You don’t have to-"
Harry took another swig of his firewhiskey. "No need to be sorry. It’s just ... well, it’s been a really long time since I told anyone all of this, and ... it’s harder than I expected it might be. I think if I just spill it all out at once, it’ll be easier."
"Go on then."
"Right. Where was I? Oh, right. No friends. So I had no friends, no real family, I lived in a cupboard and had spiders for company. Not much of a childhood. Fast forward to my eleventh birthday, or just before. All these Hogwarts letters started arriving, but my uncle took them all and burned them. Wouldn’t even let me read them. Took us all away to escape them. Only on my birthday, right at midnight, Hagrid showed up to hand deliver me my first ever birthday cake." He smiled at the memory. "That and a Hogwarts letter. My uncle tried to stop him, but for the first time in my life, someone stood up for me. He told me I was a wizard and that I’d be going to Hogwarts. Long story short, my aunt and uncle weren’t happy, but they couldn’t do anything about it."
Draco smiled. Then the smile slid off his face. "So Hagrid was the first person from the wizarding world you’d met?"
Harry nodded. "First one I knew about anyway. And, if you can believe it, you were the first wizard my age I’d ever met."
"I was?"
"Mm hmm. Madam Malkin’s."
"But ... you never said."
Harry shrugged. "I already felt overwhelmed and then you went on about brooms and Quidditch and school houses and all I kept thinking was that I didn’t have a clue what you were talking about. And I didn’t want to tell you that, so ... well. Then you insulted Hagrid and I didn’t much care what you said after that."
"Fuck, I was a prat back then."
Harry grinned and raised his glass in a toast. "That you were, Malfoy." Draco tried to glare at him, but the pain in his features took the sting out of it. "But it’s all good. Hagrid filled me in on some of the stuff and it turned out to be the best birthday I’d ever had, before I had to go back to the Dursleys."
"You went back there? Why?"
Harry shrugged. "It was my home. Didn’t have anywhere else to go, did I? Anyway, after I got back there I had a whole month before school and I started doubting everything. Then when my uncle took me to the train station, he laughed at me, having a ticket for a non-existing platform, and left me between platforms nine and ten, figuring it was all a big joke."
Draco waved his wand and the good bottle of firewhiskey and two fresh glasses flew to the table. He poured them both a good measure, shoving the dregs of Harry’s substandard whiskey to the side. "And he left you - an eleven year old - alone at King’s Cross Station, even though he thought it was all a joke?"
"Er ... yeah." The question threw Harry - he hadn’t really given it much thought since. "I imagine he didn’t much care what happened to me, and just hoped I’d be gone for good."
"That motherfucker." Now Draco was shaking.
Harry grinned slightly. "It’s okay. It all worked out. I ran into the Weasleys and they helped me get onto the platform and the rest is history."
Draco mumbled something into his glass as he drank his whiskey.
Harry took another sip. "So that’s my family."
"And you went back there again? After going to Hogwarts? Couldn’t you have ... I dunno ... stayed at the school? Or with the Weasleys?"
"Well, the Weasleys didn’t really know me, did they? They only saw me the once at King’s Cross. Besides, I had to go back."
"Why the hell would you have to do that?"
Harry took another sip. Distantly he registered just how much better it was than the swill Draco’d commented on earlier. "Because Dumbledore had invoked ancient magic to protect me. As long as I lived under my family’s roof, Voldemort couldn’t get to me."
Draco seemed to calm at this. "So Dumbledore told you all this? How did you react when you found out what had really happened to your parents? That Voldemort had tried to kill you?"
Harry let out a derisive snort. "Yeah, that’s not quite how it happened." He reached for the bottle and topped up both their glasses. "Hagrid had told me about Voldemort before and I heard all sorts of stuff at school - which is weird, by the way, hearing things about yourself from strangers. But Dumbledore kept pretty much everything from me. Only told me what he thought I needed to know."
"Wait. Didn’t you fight Voldemort off that first year too? What did Dumbledore tell you about that? And when? And when did he know?"
Harry laughed. "So I can probably do a full-on interview with you later, where I can tell you all about my life, but for now I’ll sum it up by saying that Dumbledore kept everything to himself, releasing little bits of information at a time. When it was most convenient. For him." Harry couldn’t keep the resentment out of his voice. "It was all in my best interest, of course."
Draco snorted. "Sure it was."
Harry swigged back some whiskey. "Exactly. It was always what worked for him. He thought he knew what was best - at the time I thought it was what was best for me but I learned the truth later on."
"So what did he say when you confronted him?"
Harry sighed. "He was already dead when I found out."
"Then how did you-?"
"Snape."
"Snape told you?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes. As he lay dying, he gave me his memories. I watched them in Dumbledore’s Pensieve and ... well, then I knew."
Draco no longer looked angry, but curious. "Knew what?"
"That Dumbledore had kept the most important information from me until it was time for me to die."
"Wait. What?"
Harry got up and began pacing the room. "Remember I said that something happened the night Voldemort killed my parents?"
"Yes."
"Well, he’d been creating Horcruxes - objects that contained pieces of his soul, so that he would be immortal, unable to die - and I guess he’d planned to create another that night. Only when his spell didn’t work on me, a piece of his soul ended up inside of me."
Draco’s jaw dropped and he stared at Harry. Harry pointed to his scar. Draco finished his whiskey and poured them both another. "You had a piece of Voldemort’s soul inside you?" Harry nodded. "And Dumbledore knew that." He nodded again. "And he didn’t tell you."
"That’s right. Even when he told me about the Horcruxes and his theory - only when he himself was dying and needed me to carry on the search, of course - he conveniently left out that I was the last Horcrux. And that I would have to die in order for anyone to ever be able to kill Voldemort."
"He was setting you up to die?"
Harry nodded. "As Snape put it, like a pig to the slaughter. But, hey, it was all for the greater good."
"I - I don’t know what to say."
"Not much to say really. Basically my whole life people kept things from me, lied to me, manipulated me and the people around me. Controlled my life without my ever knowing."
"And Ron knew all this?"
"Yeah, he and Hermione knew. They’re the only people I’ve told. Until now." Harry laughed. "It’s funny, really. Ron was angrier with Dumbledore than I was and he doesn’t get how hypocritical he’s being. He just doesn’t see it."
"So when the weasel and weaselette ..."
"Exactly. Ginny never knew, so I’m not as furious with her. I’m pissed, yeah, but she didn’t know just how much of a betrayal that was, them going to you and then keeping it from me for years. Forever, I’m sure, if you hadn’t told me."
"I should have told you sooner."
"Yeah, you should have. But then you didn’t know either." He drank the last of his whiskey and put the glass down. "But now you do."
"I feel like there’s still a lot you aren’t telling me."
"True, but those are the low lights. In a nutshell, I’ve been manipulated my whole life and I swore it would never happen again. But then the last person I ever expected ... well. So that’s why I’m so pissed at Ron. And it’s why I don’t know if I can ever forgive him."
"That’s understandable." He opened his mouth to ask more, but then closed it again.
They sat silently sipping on their whiskey, each lost in thought. When Draco spoke again, he switched subjects. "So, did you get to the office?"
"Oh, right. I can’t believe I forgot to mention that." Had it only been hours ago? It felt like days. "I confirmed Rowle’s magical signature."
"But he couldn’t get in this time."
"Right. You know, that still bothers me."
"What does?"
"How he managed to get past your wards. They aren’t easy to break through." Draco wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Harry chuckled. "Relax. I know they’re not exactly Ministry-approved wards." Draco’s eyes widened. "You don’t think mine are, do you?"
"I-" He narrowed his eyes at Harry. "No, I suppose you wouldn’t much care about rules like that."
Harry grinned. "Exactly. And I’m not about to report you either, so don’t worry." He understood Draco’s concern. No one at the Ministry really gave a damn about the levels of wards people kept at their homes, unless they were set to injure as well as secure, or if they alerted Muggles to the presence of magic. But technically they could charge someone with breaking the law. And, given his past - and the level of animosity many at the Ministry had for the Malfoys - Draco wouldn’t want to risk officials finding out. Harry hoped that no one would be so petty, but who knew for sure?
"So now what?"
"Now we continue to wait. And keep watch for anything out of the ordinary. His direct line to you is now broken off; that might push him to do something."
Draco tried to look unaffected, but Harry could see concern in his eyes. "Like what?"
Harry didn’t want to worry Draco too much, but he did need to be cautious. "This is Rowle we’re talking about. I wouldn’t put anything past him."
***
The next day saw no progress in the case and Harry was glad of it. He received notification that Ginny had dropped by the house, but he waited until she’d left before he returned to Grimmauld. She’d taken the box Harry’d put her remaining things into but this time had left no note. Just a hint of her perfume lingered, the only sign she’d been there. Perhaps she’d finally got the message. Or perhaps Ron had told her what Harry had said. Whatever the case, with a quick wave of his wand, he confirmed that nothing of hers remained. He took a deep, calming breath and then, with a heavy heart, reset his wards to keep her and Ron out. He was tempted to do the same for all the Weasleys but could find no good reason for it. The rest of the family had done nothing wrong. They might agree with Ron and Ginny’s actions, if they ever found out, but they’d played no hand in them. Besides, they were Harry’s family too. At least he hoped they still were.
That done, he spent the day cleaning and putting away the overt reminders of his and Ginny’s time together. He left a few Weasley family photos, but by the time he was done, he was confident that he wouldn’t have constant reminders of Ginny everywhere he turned. Eventually he’d touch up the place, redecorate a bit to make it truly his own, but for now this would have to do.
Even though the place felt empty, it was good to be home.
The following day, Harry was at the office, once more going through Rowle’s extensive file, looking for something - anything - he might have missed before, when the coin in his pocket burned.
Lab broken into. Left a note.
Adrenaline pumped through him. Are you okay?
Yes. Arrived to find mess.
He breathed a sigh of relief. He bloody well should have warded Draco’s lab before this. That was sloppy. Be right there. He returned Rowle’s file to records and was out the door in no time.
He Apparated to the lab and found a shaken Draco staring at the devastation. "Holy shit."
Draco turned angry eyes towards Harry. "He destroyed everything." His hands balled into fists at his sides. "What’s the point of that? I mean look at this place!"
Harry wanted to comfort him, but had to focus on the case. "Did you touch anything?"
"No. I walked in and found this disaster. I did cast a stasis charm over the lot, in case volatile ingredients came into contact with each other, but otherwise left everything as it was. Then I messaged you."
"Okay, then. Let me call the forensics team out."
"Is that necessary?"
"Yes, Draco. This isn’t just your private residence full of innocuous contents. This is a laboratory with chemicals and other substances that, combined in the wrong way, could pose a public danger. It needs to be contained and evacuation of neighbouring units might be in order."
Draco wrapped his arms around his sides, like he had done when his flat had been broken into. Only this time he was more angry than scared. "Fine," he said. "But there shouldn’t be anything to concern anyone but me. Any damage caused by potential reactions would be localised and non-lethal."
"Okay, good to know. Is there anything missing?"
Draco frowned. "I didn’t check. I mean everything’s destroyed, except for a few things on the shelves. I’m not even sure my equipment can be repaired. Some of it is rather delicate."
"Do you have an accurate inventory to compare to?"
He nodded. With a sigh, he withdrew his wand and cast several spells. After a few moments, he inhaled sharply. "Oh my god!"
"What is it?" Harry asked. "Should we leave? Evacuate the area? Is there something wrong?"
Draco’s face reddened and his wand arm shook. "That fucker!"
"What?"
He pointed his wand at the distant cabinet. An entire shelf of vials remained unbroken. "Over there. The fucker planted illegal potions in my lab. That bastard!"
"He what?"
"Controlled substances," Draco said. "Drugs. Illegal drugs. Highly addictive and illegal substances in my fucking lab!"
"Relax, Draco."
He turned on Harry, face furious. "How the fuck am I supposed to relax when that fucker planted illicit substances in my lab? He obviously wants them found so I get thrown in prison!"
Harry placed a hand on his shoulder but Draco shrugged it off. "You’re not going to prison," Harry assured him.
"Oh, really? You mean the forensics team that you have to call out to the scene won’t notice? You know, those potions experts and scientists that are trained to detect such things will simply overlook it and say nothing?"
"Relax, Draco."
"Stop telling me to relax!"
"Fine," Harry said, resisting the urge to shake some sense into him. "Don’t relax." He pulled out his kit bag and expanded it to its regular size. "I’m going to start cataloguing the scene. You make sure there’s nothing else in here that doesn’t belong and let me know if anything’s missing." He then withdrew a camera and began taking photos and making notes. Once he was done all that, he withdrew evidence bags and placed all undamaged vials from the cabinet into them, labelling them with their location as he went. "Anything else here that doesn’t belong?"
Draco shook his head. "Not that I can see. And it looks like all my equipment is here, however damaged it may be. But as for the potions and ingredients, I can’t tell for sure what’s missing or damaged until I return everything to its original state. Then I can count everything."
Harry nodded and pointed to the evidence bags. "Tell me which of these aren’t yours."
Draco pointed to six different bags. "Those."
Harry nodded, wrote ‘Planted’ on each bag and numbered them one through six. Then he put the bags and his camera into his kit bag and sent the whole thing to his hotel room.
"What are you doing?" Draco asked.
"Protecting you."
"Are you insane? I can’t ask you to do that."
"You didn’t ask me to."
"Harry, no. You can’t."
"I just did."
"You can’t destroy evidence. You can’t ruin your career. I won’t let you." Harry’s shoulders shook as he tried not to laugh. "It’s not funny!"
Harry’s laughter subsided and he became serious. "I know it’s not funny. Rowle is trying to ruin your life. He did something stupid and may have fucked up."
"But Harry."
Harry held up a hand. "I’m not destroying anything. I took photographs of the scene and I collected the evidence. I will include everything in my report and the files. Eventually. But it won’t do anyone - least of all you - any good to have you thrown in prison. And I’m not wasting resources investigating you instead of real criminals."
"But you’ll get in -"
"I won’t be in any trouble. I’ve been given a great deal of latitude on this case, from the Minister and Head Auror directly. Their concerns remain. They were worried about the bias in the department against you, and this would only serve to cause a distraction. I’ll inform them of these developments and explain what I’m doing. And together we’ll decide where to have the contents of the vials analysed, and hopefully we can come up with something linking them to Rowle. I’ll also tell them that you volunteered the information about these potions and that you had ample time to dispose of them before I arrived, had they been yours. Okay?"
"So you’re not putting your career at risk for me."
"No, I’m not." Draco’s shoulders relaxed and Harry sent a Patronus to the forensics team. "But I would, you know."
"Yeah," Draco scowled. "That’s what I’m afraid of."
TBC