Blank Slate, Part 2 of 2 (H/D, Mature, Complete)
Author: sesheta_66
Title: Blank Slate (part 2 of 2)
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Summary: When Harry’s disregard for the chain of command results in his ousting from the Aurors, he decides to open up his own private investigation firm. When Narcissa Malfoy goes missing and the Aurors do little but go through the motions, Draco finds himself at Harry’s door. While Harry takes the case, he’s not above using the circumstances to his own advantage.
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 16K
Read on AO3
[Blank Slate]
*~*~*
Harry arrived at work late the next morning, having had difficulty sleeping the night before, only to have his dreams - once he finally had drifted off - infiltrated by a snarky blond in an evening gown. Part way through the dream, the gown and long hair had disappeared along with the makeup, and Harry had been left just as turned on by Malfoy in his regular clothes with his distinctly male form as he had been by the female version. He’d woken in the middle of the night painfully hard and had wanked himself raw, Malfoy’s mischievous eyes swimming before him. After that, much to his dismay, he hadn’t been able to fall back asleep for hours.
Things only got worse later that day. They’d be following Mackey and his friend to a gay club that night. This appeared to suit Malfoy just fine as he arrived at Harry’s office looking perfectly comfortable wearing leather pants and a tissue-thin sleeveless t-shirt. And was that a ... nipple ring? Fucking hell. He looked just as hot in this getup as he had in the evening gown the night before. Better, actually, since he looked every bit a man. Harry groaned, wondering what on earth had given him the impression he’d be better at manipulating a situation to his advantage than a lifelong, card-carrying Slytherin.
"What’s the matter, Potter?" he asked innocently. "Do I not look the part?"
Harry’d suggested they meet that afternoon to sort out what would be best to wear - given Malfoy was a pureblood and Harry’d seen how purebloods pulled together Muggle outfits - but clearly Malfoy knew exactly what to wear to a gay club. He didn’t let himself explore that line of thought too much. Instead, having been had once more, he just growled and slammed the door to his office. He could hear Malfoy’s laughter as he sat down and let his head hit the desk. Repeatedly. He’d unleashed a monster, hadn’t he? His cock, on the other hand, was perfectly content with this newly discovered Malfoy. In fact, it was very interested indeed. He banged his head on the desk once more for good measure.
The only solution was to get rid of the git. Which meant finding Narcissa. Not that he hadn’t been looking for her already, but he generally preferred to investigate in stages, giving the narrow scope time to work itself through before broadening his efforts. It also tended to save the clients money in the long run. But, in the interest of his own sanity - specifically getting Malfoy out of his life sooner rather than later - perhaps he ought to ramp it up a notch or two. Malfoy could afford it and maybe, given Narcissa’s ability to travel more readily and stealthily using magic, perhaps it was best anyway.
He’d searched hospital and police reports on Jane Does that had appeared in the area encompassing Witshire through London, as far north as Oxford and as far south as Southampton. The day prior he’d expanded that to the whole of England to see if anything came up. Now he expanded his search to the entirety of the UK and Ireland. Narcissa was a beautiful, if aloof and cultured woman. It was doubtful she’d go unnoticed. She wouldn’t exactly fit into the typical missing person that the police might give no more than a passing glance to, since she was so obviously a woman of means and refinement.
Malfoy came sauntering in - and saunter he did - a few minutes later, still dressed in his flamboyant outfit, nipple ring taunting Harry. "So what time are we heading out to this club?"
Harry suppressed a moan. The man really was too delicious for words. Shame it was Malfoy. "I say we get there a bit before they’re scheduled to meet. Give us a chance to scope the place out." He shrugged. "Say nine thirty?"
"Sounds good to me. The happy hour crowd should be gone by then and most of the night crowd won’t have arrived yet, so we should be able to get a table." Harry narrowed his eyes. Malfoy really did know about the club scene. "So, do you need anything else or shall we just meet back here then?"
Harry doubted he’d get much done if Malfoy stuck around in that getup. "Meet back here around nine. That’ll give us time to secure the surveillance equipment before we head out." He gave Malfoy a once-over, wondering where, even with decent concealment charms, he could place a camera on that sheer shirt. Maybe on that nipple ring?
Malfoy smirked, as though he could read Harry’s thoughts. Thank Merlin Harry’s skills in Occlumency had improved. Malfoy would be positively insufferable if he knew precisely how much Harry was affected by his ... by him. Fuck, that would be a nightmare. "See you then," he said. Harry chose to ignore the sway of his hips as he left Harry’s office and closed the door.
Once Harry heard the crack of Apparition, he got down to work. The sooner he found Narcissa, the sooner Malfoy would be out of his life
At nine o’clock on the dot, Malfoy returned. He still wore the outfit he’d had on earlier, but he’d added some kohl eyeliner, body glitter - fucking hell - and had spiked his hair. He’d also added a pair of heavy, black boots, making his already long legs even longer. He did a slow twirl - to drive Harry completely mad, no doubt - and Harry could swear the pants were even tighter now than they’d been that afternoon. "All set?" he asked.
Harry got up from his desk. "Give me a minute to change."
He went into his back room and emerged a few minutes later wearing a deep green v-neck t-shirt that hugged his biceps and showed off his his abs to the fullest, the tightest black jeans he owned, which Ginny swore did his arse the utmost justice, and his own black boots. Malfoy’s eyes marked a lazy trail over Harry, head to toe and back up again. "Well, well, this is unexpected," Malfoy said. "You clean up alright, Potter."
Harry shrugged. "Just playing the part."
"Mm." Malfoy grinned. "And playing it very well." He approached Harry and reached up to run a hand through Harry’s hair. Harry froze. "May I?" Harry thought it was a bit late to be asking after he’d already touched his hair, but he nodded anyway. Malfoy pulled out his wand and aimed it at his palm. Gel poured out the end and for a moment Harry didn’t know what the hell was going on. Malfoy rubbed his hands together. "Hair gel," he explained. "This should finish up the look." He ran his hands through Harry’s hair again, spreading the gel to the roots. Harry barely resisted moaning into the touch; it had been a long time since ... well. It felt wonderful - Malfoy’s hands felt wonderful - and the scent of the product made him want to sigh.
"There." Malfoy stepped back to take in Harry’s appearance once more. Harry tried not to fidget under his scrutiny. "Perfect."
Harry snorted. "There’s something I never thought I’d hear from you. Not in reference to me, anyway."
Malfoy ran his eyes over Harry’s body once more, not even trying to hide his appreciation - Harry could practically feel the caress - and smirked. "You never looked like this before."
They stared at each other for a long moment, the air crackling between them, before Harry cleared his throat. "Right, then. Let’s get wired up."
"You know, I don’t think it’ll be much of a hardship hanging all over you looking like that, Potter." Once more Harry was subjected to the scrutiny of Malfoy’s gaze. "Don’t get me wrong, your tuxedo was a flattering look - worlds better than the clothes you wore in school, though that’s not a very high bar - and the way you got all flustered was rather amusing. But tonight you look positively edible." He grinned at Harry, his eyes flashing in a way that made Harry feel very much like a dish Malfoy would happily devour.
Harry swallowed, trying to tamp down the surge of lust he’d been trying to keep at bay since Malfoy had shown up in those clothes this afternoon. When he thought he could speak with a clear voice, he said, "Yeah, about that. I think we go in together, but not as a couple. More approachable."
Malfoy pouted and Harry imagined he could get away with an awful lot with a mouth like that. "More’s the pity."
Harry brushed aside the surreal nature of the situation - Malfoy flirting openly with him and Harry seriously wondering what those lips would taste like and how that arse would feel - and ushered them out the door. He had work to do, after all.
They managed to secure a table, thanks to the early hour - not the best position, but they did have a decent view of most of the place, and had a clear sight line to the dance floor. After nearly forty minutes, Malfoy nudged Harry. "Over there." Harry followed his gaze and saw Mackey making his way to the dance floor with the same man he’d met the other night. When they pressed their bodies together and started moving, he said, "Very cosy."
Harry watched as the men moved to the thumping of the music, the blond running his hands freely over Mackey’s chest from behind, Mackey grinding his arse back into the blond’s crotch, his head resting on the blond’s shoulder, eyes closed, lost in the rhythm. Three more songs and more of the same later, Harry expected them to make their way to the back of the club together when they got off the dance floor, but the blond disappeared on his own and Mackey made his way to the bar.
Malfoy watched his approach intently, pulling his straw into his mouth and sucking on it suggestively. Harry’s attention returned to Mackey who’d stopped en route and was now watching Malfoy with a glint in his eye. As he approached, he spared Harry a glance before leaning in and whispering something in Malfoy’s ear. Malfoy chuckled and took another long suck from his straw, drawing Mackey’s gaze once more. "Nice moves."
Mackey held out his hand. "I’m Brad."
Malfoy took his hand, shook it, then used it to draw him closer. "Hi, Brad. I’m David."
"Well, David, what are you having?"
Malfoy took another long suck from his straw. "Vodka tonic."
Brad went to the bar and returned with a drink for Malfoy plus his own, ignoring Harry entirely. When he handed Malfoy his drink, he motioned towards Harry. "You two together?"
"We arrived together," Malfoy said, raising a brow and looking Harry’s way. "But, no. I’m happily unattached. Isn’t that right?"
Harry wanted to argue, wanted the clingy Malfoy back from the night before. It was stupid, he knew. But he’d said it himself: they’d do better separately. And he couldn’t deny the interest Brad had in Malfoy. "Sure," he said, swigging back the last of his own drink, unaccountably irritated. "Happily unattached."
Brad’s bemused look told Harry he hadn’t hidden his irritation well. He stepped closer to Malfoy and leaned towards his ear. "Drink up." He nudged Draco’s glass. "Dance with me."
Malfoy graced him with a wide grin and took a large gulp of his fresh drink, ignoring the straw altogether. "What about your partner?" He eyed the path to the back the blond had taken.
"What about him?"
Malfoy grinned and poured another third of the drink down his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. "You happily unattached too?"
Harry looked at his empty glass and fought the urge to get another.
"Not exactly," Brad admitted. "But you don’t have to worry about him."
Malfoy flashed him another grin and shot back the rest of his drink. "Then let’s dance." He removed Brad’s not quite empty glass from his hand, placed it on the table, and dragged him towards the dance floor. Harry stared helplessly after them.
If Brad’s previous dancing had drawn attention, it was nothing to what he and Malfoy were currently doing. Harry followed their moves, sure to keep his glasses - and the video recording - facing directly towards them. There was no mistaking Brad’s desire as he ground their crotches together, running his hands freely over Malfoy’s back and arse, their bodies practically moulded together as one. Harry barely kept himself in check, a roiling in his gut, unbidden, warring with his need to do his job.
When Brad leaned down to kiss Malfoy, he turned his head, only allowing the other man access to his throat. Brad clutched him more tightly, ground himself more roughly into Malfoy, and Harry had had enough. Convinced he’d obtained all the evidence he would tonight for the wife - short of catching him in the act, which was sure as hell not happening with Malfoy - he marched onto the dance floor, tugging Malfoy’s arm from the man’s shoulder and spinning him around and into Harry’s arms.
After his initial shock at being manhandled by Harry, Malfoy allowed himself a self-satisfied grin. The smug bastard knew exactly what he was doing and Harry was helpless to resist. They stared at each other for a heartbeat until their bodies responded to the thrum of the music, both stepping in closer until they fitted together, chest to thigh, both of them ignoring the protests of the man who thought he’d be going home with Malfoy tonight. Distantly, Harry registered that Malfoy hadn’t been affected by all the rutting he and Brad had been doing, and something inside him cheered. As the two of them moved together, however, that soon changed.
Malfoy’s hard chest, smooth skin and slender, swaying hips were too seductive for words. By the time the song ended, they were both rock hard. When Malfoy scraped his teeth over Harry’s pulse point on his neck and rasped, "Let’s get out of here," it was Harry’s undoing, and he couldn’t drag him out the door fast enough. They Apparated from the first free alley they found to Harry’s office and were all over each other before they’d even steadied themselves properly.
All heat, all desire, there was nothing remotely gentle about their coming together. Harry gulped down Malfoy’s moans and Malfoy plundered Harry’s mouth with his tongue. Like with everything else, they fought for dominance and fuck, it was glorious.
Malfoy pulled back and stripped off his hardly-there shirt, then yanked Harry’s t-shirt over his head. The brief separation allowed Harry’s brain catch up to their surroundings. "This is a bad idea," he said as Malfoy grabbed his belt loops and pulled him back in.
"Horrible," Malfoy agreed before resuming his exploration of Harry’s mouth. He pulled back, breathless. "Highly unprofessional." Then he licked a strip up Harry’s neck and bit down on his earlobe.
Harry moaned. "Seriously, though," Harry dragged his nails down Malfoy’s back before pressing him against the wall and Malfoy growled. "You’re a client."
"And you’re a rule breaker," Malfoy reminded him, reaching his hand down to Harry’s groin and squeezing his fully hard cock. "What’s the problem?"
With Malfoy’s hand on his dick, Harry couldn’t think of a single one.
He reached for Malfoy’s waistband, quickly undoing the leather pants and reaching in to grab hold of his length. Malfoy’s "Fuck, yes," was all the encouragement he needed.
As Harry began to stroke, Malfoy struggled to release Harry from the confines of his jeans. Harry halted briefly to give him better access and once he took Harry’s cock in his sure grip, Harry’s world was reduced to sensation. Rocking into Malfoy’s fist, Harry wordlessly conjured lube into his free hand, then pulled Malfoy’s hand off him. Spreading the cool gel over both their rigid cocks, he pressed them together and resumed stroking, his hand joined soon enough by Malfoy’s.
Malfoy let out a groan and found Harry’s mouth with his own once more. He tasted faintly of gin and lime and Harry drank it in, drunk on lust and thirsty for all he could get. As their lube-coated hands stroked ever harder and faster, filthy squelching noises filled the air, driving them towards climax. And fuck, Malfoy’s tongue was just as filthy as he thrust into Harry’s mouth with messy abandon. Harry’s hips thrust forward, pressing Malfoy into the wall over and over again. And when Malfoy’s thumb brushed over the head of his cock, Harry plummeted over the edge.
His come now mixing with the lube to make the slide even smoother, and his strokes losing all rhythm, Harry hardened his grip, determined to bring Malfoy to the brink. A few strokes later, Malfoy’s cock twitched and spurted between them. Harry rode the wave until his over-stimulated prick demanded he stop.
Blinking heavily lidded eyes, Malfoy rested his head back against the wall, breathing heavily and grinning lazily, utterly debauched. Harry grinned back and leaned in for another kiss, this one slow and deep and leisurely. Malfoy’s arms reached up and he dragged fingers through Harry’s hair, pulling him in closer and deepening the kiss. The intimacy of the moment - much more so than what had gone before - struck Harry and he wondered briefly what might have been if their lives had taken a different path when they’d first met.
With a wave of his arm, he vanished the mess and then proceeded to tuck Malfoy back into his pants and pull up and fasten his trousers. As he did the same for himself, Malfoy retrieved their shirts, handed Harry his and pulled his own back on. "I should go."
He didn’t move, though, and Harry once more closed the distance between them and kissed him. When they parted, Harry rested his forehead against Malfoy’s. "Mm. Me too." And he kissed him again. And again. And one more time for good measure.
Malfoy chuckled. "Okay, I really do have to go now. I have a job to go to in the morning."
Harry brushed the hair off Malfoy’s forehead with his fingers and leaned in for another. "So do I."
*~*~*
The next morning, Harry knew he should regret what had happened the night before - Malfoy was a client, after all - but he couldn’t bring himself to. He’d done a healthy amount of soul searching once he’d got home and found that this turn of events shouldn’t really have come as too much of a surprise. Sure, they’d hated each other in school, but more than anything they’d vied for each other’s attention. And hadn’t Ron and Hermione repeatedly told Harry he was obsessed with Malfoy?
And there was no denying their mutual attraction. Malfoy was hot as hell - how had Harry missed that? - and that mouth. Harry wanted more of that. Wanted to feel it all over him. Wanted to feel Malfoy beneath him, inside him, all around him. Oh, yes. He wanted to discover all there was to know about the snarky man who’d been the snarky kid that had pissed him off at every turn in school.
He dragged his hands over his face in an effort to clear his head. He drank a good measure of his extra strong and sweet coffee and turned on his computer. And what he saw there did more to dispel the fog than any of his previous efforts.
He’d got a hit on Narcissa. A woman matching her description had been brought to a Muggle care facility in Wales of all places a couple of weeks ago. She had no memory of who she was or where she’d come from, but had been oddly but well-dressed and had clearly come from an affluent home.
Harry thought about contacting Malfoy, but didn’t want to get his hopes up in case it wasn’t Narcissa. He replied and asked if he could drop by to see her later that day. While he waited for a reply, he filled up on caffeine and wrote up the previous night’s case notes. He printed several still shots of Mackey - aka "Brad" - mauling Malfoy and added a copy of the relevant sections of the time stamped surveillance tapes to the file. After reviewing the full content of the case file to date, he decided that one more stake-out would be in order.
*~*~*
Harry entered the facility at two o’clock that afternoon. It wasn’t unlike the Malfoy Manor grounds, as it turned out: a large manor house situated on a large property with a grand entrance and a wooded area out back. No peacocks, he noted. It didn’t feel like a hospital or long-term care home and, but for a number of patients in wheelchairs and staff dressed in tell-tale pastel uniforms, it could have been someone’s personal estate.
Harry introduced himself to the Head Nurse, Rebecca, who took him on a brief tour of the facility. While they wandered the halls and grounds, Harry asked some questions about their Jane Doe that Rebecca - with a little nudge from a handy little spell - happily answered. When she brought him to Narcissa’s room - and it was, indeed, Narcissa - he was relieved to see her healthy and well dressed, though it was odd to see her in Muggle attire. She sat at a table by the window overlooking the grounds, and had been reading a book he didn’t recognise when they’d entered.
Rebecca introduced him. "Jane, dear, this young man is Harry. He’s a private investigator." When Harry nodded, she smiled. "He was hired to find you."
She turned a confused face to Harry. "You were?"
Harry smiled. "I was. Your family is very worried about you."
She frowned. "They are?"
"They are indeed."
Narcissa worried her lower lip and wrung the hands she had resting in her lap. With another nudge from a surreptitious spell, Rebecca asked, "Is it okay for me to leave the two of you alone to talk?" Narcissa nodded. "Well, then. I’ll come back in half an hour to see how you’re doing, shall I?"
Harry shook her hand. "Thank you, Rebecca. I’ll call if we need you any sooner."
"I’ll have some tea brought to the room."
Once she left, Harry sat down in the chair opposite Narcissa. She wasted no time. "So who am I?"
"Your name is Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black, and you live at Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire, England."
She blinked as she absorbed the information. She mouthed ‘Narcissa’ but nothing he’d said seemed to jog anything. "You say my family hired you?"
He hesitated, not wanting to overload her with too much information, but figured this couldn’t be helped. "Your son did, yes."
Her eyes became glassy. "I have a son?"
"Yes."
Her leg began to bounce and colour flowed to her cheeks. "How old is he? Do I have any other children? Why isn’t he here with you?"
Harry smiled. "He’s your only child. He’s the same age as I am - that would be twenty-five - and his name is Draco." He watched for recognition in her face but saw none. "I came here on my own, because I didn’t want to get his hopes up, if you turned out not to be his mother."
She wrung her hands a bit more before frowning at Harry. "And how can you be sure I am?"
"Because I know you too." Her eyes widened in surprise. "Draco and I went to school together. I’ve met you before."
She visibly relaxed. "So you two were classmates?"
"We went to the same school and we were in the same year, yes, but we weren’t close." No point saying any more than that. "We were in different school houses."
"Ah, I see." She didn’t see, but it was hardly Harry’s place to tell her any more.
The tea arrived then and the young woman who’d brought it busied herself setting it up on the table, taking her time and not-so-subtly watching Harry out of the corner of her eye. He smiled at her and she blushed before bustling out of the room, apparently flustered.
Narcissa grinned. "I think young Marjorie might have her eye on you."
Harry raised his brows. "Oh, really?"
"Indeed." Narcissa poured some milk into her tea and brought the cup up to her mouth. "I’m surprisingly observant for someone who doesn’t know who she is."
Harry grinned. "You were always observant, from what I recall. I think it’s a family trait."
"And here you said you and my son were not friends."
He shrugged. "I’m rather observant myself."
They spent the rest of the time on questions and answers - Harry asking about the facility, the staff and the other residents (per Rebecca, they weren’t called patients), and Narcissa asking about her home, family and friends. As Harry didn’t want to overwhelm her, both because it wasn’t his place and because he didn’t know how she’d react, he answered as vaguely and concisely as possible.
"You’re avoiding my questions," she observed.
He put down his cup. "Not exactly," he explained. "I wasn’t lying when I said Draco and I weren’t friends. We may have interacted from time to time, but we didn’t talk about ourselves or our families. And the only times I met or saw you weren’t social occasions. So what I know is only through that lens and I don’t think I would be doing you much of a service by answering questions I don’t really no the answers to. Draco should be the one to respond."
She narrowed her eyes and stared at him for some time. Even wandless, he feared she could see inside his thoughts, so he enlisted his Occlumency. "I sense that there’s a lot you aren’t telling me, Harry. That there’s a lot more to this."
He smiled. "Like I said, you’re observant. There’s an entire world I’m not telling you about, because it’s not my place."
She put her empty cup onto the table. "Will you come see me again tomorrow?"
"Of course." He wondered how Malfoy would react when he met this stranger in his mother’s body. "I’ll speak to Draco when I get back to my office and we’ll arrange for a time to return. I can fill him in on your condition and see if he can bring some of your things with him, to try to jog your memory."
"Um ..." She starting wringing her hands together again. "Would you be able to come back on your own?"
"I’m sorry?"
"I ... I don’t know that I’m ready to see my son." Harry tried to hide his surprise. It didn’t work. "Oh, it’s not what you’re thinking. I want to see him. I do. But I’m finding it difficult to accept that I have a child and I have no memory of it. How can I not remember him? I’m his mother!"
Tears leaked out of her eyes and Harry reached for her hands. "It’s not your fault," he assured her. "Draco won’t blame you."
"But how could you know that?"
"Know what? That it’s not your fault?" She nodded. "Well, you want to regain your memory, don’t you?" She nodded again. "Then it’s not your fault. And as for Draco, he loves you. He wouldn’t have hired me of all people to find you if he didn’t. And I know you love him too. More than anything."
She pulled her hands away and looked at him shrewdly. "But I thought you said you didn’t really know me. How could you possibly know that?"
He sighed. "It’s a long story. A very long story. I will tell you this, though. I witnessed you risk a lot for the sake of your son. I know you love him and I’m convinced you would never do anything to hurt him, including leave without letting him know."
"But -"
He took her hands in his once more. "It’s not my place to say any more. I wish I could, but it just wouldn’t be right."
She let out a defeated sigh and drew her hands back once more. "Fine, then."
"So I can bring Draco to see you?"
She frowned. "No. Not yet. I want to take a few days to try to remember. I want to know my son before I see his face. Can you give me that?"
Harry didn’t like it, but he thought he might understand. He recalled how distraught Hermione had been when she’d gone to Australia to get her parents and they hadn’t recognised her. And she knew exactly what had happened to them, that she had cast the spells to protect them. But it still didn’t make the experience any easier.
"I won’t tell Draco anything before I come see you again tomorrow. You have my word." She relaxed and smiled gratefully at him. "But I can’t promise anything beyond that." She nodded.
*~*~*
Malfoy,
Working some leads and will be out tonight and most of the morning and afternoon. Maybe we can meet at my office when you’re done work tomorrow and talk about the case.
I think we’re looking pretty good on the "Brad" case. Maybe one more instance to solidify the wife’s position. But you’re off the hook tonight. No surveillance, no dresses and no leather pants.
Harry
He re-read the note and decided it would have to do. He didn’t want to lie to Malfoy’s face, but he’d given Narcissa his word. Best just to avoid him altogether. Not very Gryffindor like, but needs must. Besides, he really did have work to do.
As evening turned to night, guilt built up in Harry. He couldn’t help thinking that if it were his mother, he’d want to know. Right away. And then his imagination started getting the better of him. What if Narcissa wasn’t, in fact, suffering from memory loss? What if she really had left and wanted nothing to do with her old life? And what if she’d played Harry and would be gone by the time he returned?
He replayed the day over and over again in his mind, but reached the same conclusion every time. Narcissa was a confused woman whose anguish over having a son she couldn’t remember was real. It had to be.
Not that Harry slept any better knowing that.
*~*~*
"Ah, Harry," Rebecca greeted him. "Jane - I mean Narcissa - has been waiting for you. Marjorie brought a tea service already and set it up in her room."
He smiled. "Sorry I’m late. A meeting I had ran a bit long."
She waved towards Narcissa’s room. "Oh, not to worry. It’s only been ten minutes or so. Perfect for the tea to steep." Harry thanked her and made his way to Narcissa’s room.
The door stood open and Narcissa once again was sat by the window, looking out over the grounds. When he tapped lightly on the door, she turned and greeted him with a soft smile. "I was beginning to wonder if you were coming after all. I think Marjorie was disappointed she missed you."
Harry chuckled. "Sorry. Meeting went late. Came right over when it was done."
She smiled again, motioned for him to take a seat and poured them both a cup of tea. Harry added milk and sugar to his, then got right down to business. "Have you been able to remember anything?"
Her smile faded and she sipped her tea. "No." She blinked and was able to keep the tears from flowing this time. "Nothing."
"I see." Harry hadn’t expected her to remember, particularly if she’d been Obliviated, which he suspected she had been. As wonderful as the Welsh country air was, what she needed now was St Mungo’s. But how to convince her of that without telling her anything? "And have you thought more about Draco?"
"I’ve thought of little else." Her hand shook as she put down her teacup. "Why can’t I remember?"
"There could be many reasons, which I’m sure the medical staff here have told you. But whatever the cause, Draco will want to get you the best care possible."
She scowled. "Do you think there’s something wrong with the care here?"
Harry put down his own cup. "Oh, no. Not at all. Not that I’ve done much research - and I’m certainly not an expert - but what I have read about this facility is all positive. Whoever brought you here was acting on your best interest, I’m sure." When Harry had spoken with Rebecca the previous day, he’d been able to ascertain who’d brought her in - a local Muggle that had run across her at his coffee shop, had struck up a conversation with her and, when he’d discovered her predicament, had offered to help. After some quick investigation, Harry had been able to verify his story and rule him out as anyone that might have been involved in her disappearance. Harry planned to go to the coffee shop today when he left Narcissa and talk to the man himself. "But your family is wealthy and I’m sure they would spare no expense to get you the best care available."
She stared out the window. "Do you have time to go for a walk?"
Harry stood up. "Of course." He held out his hand for her and helped her up. "It’s a beautiful day."
They spent a good half hour walking the grounds, Narcissa telling him about the people who worked there, how she had a love for classical music, and how she felt strangely at home here.
"That’s probably because this looks an awful lot like your house in Wiltshire."
"Oh, have you been there?"
Harry barely held back a shudder. "I have. It’s been in your husband’s family for generations."
They stopped to sit on a bench overlooking an ornate fountain. "And it’s as peaceful and beautiful as this place?"
Harry listened to the sound of the water flowing and coughed. "I don’t know about that," he explained. "I was only there the one time and I didn’t get to see very much of the place. And I was in rather a rush to leave at the time. Still ... I was reminded of it when I came by yesterday. The outside anyway."
"Well, maybe when I get back there, Draco will have you around for a visit, so we can have tea again and you can see it properly."
Harry smiled. He imagined Lucius might have something to say about that, but ... well ... "I’d like that," Harry said. And was surprised that he truly meant it. Gone was the Narcissa Malfoy he’d met all those years ago. This was a woman who - free from the confines of her upbringing and life with Lucius - Harry could enjoy spending an afternoon with. "So does that mean I can bring Draco here tomorrow?"
"I would rather wait, to be honest. Give it some more time. But I sense some urgency from you." Harry nodded. "I know you’re holding back - and I understand, really I do - and I can see that you aren’t going to tell me what I need to know."
"I’m sorry, Narcissa, but I can’t. Draco needs to be the one to tell you, and I think you should have him with you when you find out ... everything. It may be quite a shock."
Narcissa reached for his hand. "It’s a strange thing to not know who you are, to not know where you’re from, where you’ve been, where you belong. This is a lovely place, and the people here are wonderful. But I feel oddly out of place, more than can be explained by the memory loss, I think. But when you showed up yesterday ..." She squeezed his hand. "I felt a kinship with you."
"You did?" This surprised Harry. She hadn’t shown any recognition. "You remembered me?" Why would she remember him, of all people?
She laughed and released his hand. "Oh, no. Nothing like that. More like there was a familiarity about you. Not that I knew you personally, but that we shared something. It’s nothing I can put my finger on, but I just felt that I could trust you."
"Oh." Harry smiled. "I’m glad."
"So, since I trust you, Harry, even though I would prefer to give myself some more time, I will agree to have you bring Draco here tomorrow."
Harry smiled. "I’ll see him later today. We could come tonight."
Narcissa stood up and put her hands on her hips, looking every bit the formidable matriarch once more. "Don’t push it."
He laughed, got up and offered his arm for her to take. "Wouldn’t dream of it."
*~*~*
Harry had just poured himself a cup of tea when a harried looking Malfoy walked in and threw himself onto a chair. "Tell me two things, Potter. One: you do not need me to help with surveillance tonight - I’m knackered; and two: you have some news on my mother’s case."
"Want some tea?" Harry asked. "I just made a pot."
Malfoy sat up. "Tea would be glorious, yes. It’s been a hell of a day."
Harry got him a cup of tea and waited for him to take a sip and put it down. When he leaned back in the chair and let out a deep sigh of exhaustion, Harry said, "No surveillance tonight and I have some news."
He shot back up, alert once more. "You have? Is she okay? Where is she?"
"Whoa, whoa. Relax."
"I can’t relax, Potter. As if you could relax!"
"Fair enough. But I need you to listen, okay?" When he looked ready to argue, Harry added, "She’s fine."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on Harry’s desk, gripping his cup like a lifeline. "What happened to her?"
"First of all, she’s fine, as I said. Physically. But she has no memory of who she is or anything else, really."
"She was Obliviated?"
Harry nodded. "I think so, but I can’t be sure. She’s at a Muggle care facility."
"Well, we need to get her out of there right now. Get her to Mungo’s. Better yet, get her some private care. I’ll have father call his contacts and -"
"Hold on." Harry held up his hand. "She’s being well taken care of where she is. She seems happy and healthy."
"Wait. You’ve seen her?"
Harry had hoped he’d have more time to explain things before this came up. He ran a hand through his hair. "I had to be sure it was her. I didn’t want to get your hopes up and drag you off to Wales -"
"She’s in Wales?"
Harry sighed. "Can I get a sentence or two out without you interrupting me?"
Malfoy scowled, but nodded. "Go on then."
"Right. She’s at a Muggle care facility in Wales. It’s a manor home not unlike your home. So, even though she doesn’t remember her home or anything else, it’s comforting for her. The people are nice and they care for her well. She likes them."
"And you’ve seen this for yourself?"
Harry nodded. "I have. And I interviewed the Head Nurse. I found out who brought her there, and I met with him this afternoon. And before you ask, no, he had nothing to do with her disappearance. He’s a Muggle that runs a coffee shop. He also didn’t see anyone with her, so that’s a dead end. For now."
"Is that it? Can we go now?"
"Er ..." How to convince Malfoy not to storm the place and drag his mother out?
Malfoy leaned in and glared at Harry. "What do you mean, ‘er’? I want. To see. My mother. NOW!"
Harry sat back in his chair, putting distance between them, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Would you like to continue yelling, or will you listen?"
"What the fuck, Potter? My mother’s been missing for weeks!"
"And she’s fine. One more night won’t harm her."
"Another night? I didn’t agree to that!"
"She’s scared, Malfoy." Harry couldn’t tell him that Narcissa had asked for the night. "She doesn’t know who she is or who you are. She didn’t recognise me and she didn’t react when I told her about you and your father."
He narrowed his eyes menacingly. "What did you tell her?"
"For fuck’s sake, Malfoy, what do you think I told her? That she has a husband and son. That you love her very much and you miss her. That we weren’t friends, but you sought me out to find her." He ran his hands through his hair again. "I told her nothing else. She pressed me for more information, but I told her that it wasn’t my place. I gave her little details, told her the place she’s in reminded me of her home. Told her that her family is wealthy and would want to hire the best care for her. That’s about all."
"You didn’t tell her she’s a witch?"
"Fuck, no! What if that scared her? What if she thought I was crazy? I think that’s the sort of news, when coupled with the strain of her complete memory loss, best delivered by family and with a Healer on hand. Don’t you agree?"
He took a few deep breaths. "I suppose."
"And don’t you think it’d be best to give yourself tonight to think about what you’re going to say to her and how you’re going to say it? And to prepare yourself for the likelihood that she won’t recognise you when you walk in. That won’t be easy."
Malfoy stood up and started pacing and muttering under his breath. After a solid five minutes of that, Harry broke the silence. "If you’re done wearing a path in my carpet, perhaps we could put together a plan. I spoke with Rebecca - she’s the Head Nurse - and she gave me a few ideas about what you might want to bring and how you might want to approach your mother."
"I think I know how to talk to my own mother, Potter."
"But right now she’s not your mother. She has no memory of being anyone’s mother. Or wife. She doesn’t remember her upbringing, her marriage, Voldemort, the war. Nothing. She’s a blank slate. Too much too fast might cause information overload. You need to be careful."
"You’ll pardon me if I think a Healer would be better placed to comment."
"I agree. But in the meantime, take the advice of the experts you have. I’ll help you with that."
They spent the rest of the evening making still copies of photographs and compiling details about family and friends. And Harry was relieved when Draco didn’t suggest bringing Lucius along.
*~*~*
The next day, they arrived to be greeted, once again, by Rebecca. Harry introduced them and told her what they’d planned.
"That sounds very good." She smiled at Malfoy. "We find it goes much more smoothly, for all concerned, when details are introduced gradually. Sometimes it’s one small detail that triggers an influx of memories - and of course that’s what we wish for - but when nothing readily unfolds, the experience becomes traumatic for everyone. The patient gets frustrated because they don’t remember, the family gets impatient when they can’t get through, everyone pushes and then they end up angry with themselves and at each other." She placed a reassuring hand on Malfoy’s arm. "I’m glad you decided to go gently."
He shot Harry a glance, then looked back at Rebecca. "I’ll be honest with you. I wanted to storm in here last night and take her home. Harry here stopped me and made me see reason."
Harry couldn’t bring himself to be smug. "I just want what’s best for Narcissa."
Rebecca smiled. "She’ll be glad to see you again. Go on then."
*~*~*
Narcissa sat in her usual spot by the window as they approached. "Mother?" Malfoy’s voice was barely above a whisper beside him. "Mother, is it really you?" He started to move forward but then stopped himself and waited.
She turned around and looked at Draco, then Harry, then back to Draco. She blinked, no recognition behind her blue eyes, and said, "You must be Draco."
Harry’s heart broke for them both in that moment. He’d known what to expect, but deep down inside, he’d hoped that the sight of Draco would bring everything flooding back. But it wasn’t meant to be. When Draco’s breath hitched, but he didn’t otherwise show his pain, Harry was thankful that he’d explained what had happened to Hermione when she’d retrieved her parents. Still, it was hard to witness.
Malfoy stepped inside then. "Yes, I’m your son, Draco. And I hired Harry here to find you."
"Harry’s a good boy," she said with a smile. "He’s been very nice to me." She turned a mock-glare towards Harry. "Even if he wouldn’t tell me very much." She returned her gaze to her son. "He said that it should come from you." She blinked and turned to look out the window for a moment to compose herself. When she turned back, she stood up. "Well, it’s a beautiful day. Shall we go for a walk?"
Harry offered to leave them to it, but two sets of panicked eyes met his own, so he went along. They walked the grounds and settled at the same fountain when she said, "Okay, tell me everything."
"Narcissa, I don’t think -"
"Nonsense, Harry. You told me Draco must tell me everything. Now he’s here. He can tell me everything."
Draco pulled out his folder and opened it. "Rebecca recommends taking things slowly," he explained. "I will tell you everything, eventually, but how about we take it one step at a time?"
She pursed her lips but nodded. "Very well then."
Draco smiled and passed her a photograph. "This is a picture of you and your sisters and your parents when you were a child."
They spent the next two hours going through the pictures, Harry getting up and walking away on his own several times to give them privacy. When they’d gone through all the material they’d brought, both Malfoys looked exhausted. Narcissa stood up. "Well, shall we head inside for some tea?"
They made it to Narcissa’s room at the same time Marjorie arrived with the tea service. She blushed when she saw Harry, and scooted in just ahead of them to get it set up. When she was done, Narcissa thanked her.
"Oh, it’s my pleasure," Marjorie said, blushing once more as she looked at Harry. "It’s not everyone that’s lucky enough to get a visitor three days in a row. I’m happy to oblige." And she left.
Harry’s blood went cold when he met Draco’s glare. And then it was gone.
"I thought I would bring Father along tomorrow and we could bring you home together."
"Your father?"
"Yes." He sipped his tea, then put the cup down. "He and Harry don’t get on very well, so I thought it better to come alone today."
"Oh, so Harry won’t be joining us tomorrow?"
"No, I don’t think so." The glare returned for an instant. "I think it’s better that way." He turned back to his mother with a smile. "After all, he’s completed the job I hired him for, hasn’t he?"
Harry took that as his cue to leave. "I’ll leave the two of you to work out the details then, shall I?" He stood up and took Narcissa’s hand between his two, giving it a squeeze. "You’re in good hands with Draco. But if there is ever anything you need, you can call on me."
"Yes, well, I’m sure she’ll be fine, Potter."
Harry winced inwardly, then kissed Narcissa on the cheek. "I’m glad to have found you. And I’ll do my best to work out what happened. Take care."
She hugged him gently and when she pulled back, her eyes were damp. "Thank you, Harry."
He smiled. "You’re very welcome."
*~*~*
He was in his office for under twenty minutes when Malfoy stormed in. "What the fuck, Potter?"
Harry ran a tired hand through his hair, reached into his cupboard and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of Firewhiskey. Without asking, he poured each of them a triple and slid Malfoy’s across the desk to him. "Are you okay?"
"Of course I’m not okay!" He paced around the office for half a minute before grabbing his glass and shooting back half the contents. "My own mother doesn’t know me!"
Harry sipped from his own glass. "I know. I’m sorry."
"And you kept it from me for THREE DAYS! What the fuck is that about? That makes it -" He did some mental calculations before his eyes narrowed. "You fucking bastard!"
Harry held up his hands. "No, no. You’ve got it all wrong."
"Oh, have I? Then enlighten me, you fucking wanker."
"Two days ago - the day after the club and ... well - I got a hit on some of the notices I sent out. That same day I went to see if it was Narcissa. And it was."
"And you didn’t tell me, why?"
Harry couldn’t tell him. "I knew she didn’t remember anything and - well, I thought she could use a day to think about what I’d told her. To maybe remember something."
Malfoy sipped from his glass and banged it on the desk. "That’s bullshit. You know she’s not just going to recover on her own from an Obliviate. She needs treatment."
"If she’s been Obliviated. We still don’t know that for sure."
He banged a fist on the desk. "Oh, come on. We both know that’s what’s going on here."
"Most likely, yes. But - as I’ve told you before - Hermione’s parents-"
"What the hell do they have to do with anything?"
Harry ran a hand through his hair again. "Just that I’m aware that timing isn’t an issue. If your mother’s memories can be restored, they can be. Another day, week, month, or even year won’t make a difference. She was scared - is scared. I gave her an extra day. I saw her two days ago, then again yesterday. I told her I’d bring you there today and she agreed."
Malfoy finished his drink and stood up. "You should have told me as soon as you found out. I trusted you to find her and you betrayed me."
"Malfoy, I’m sorry."
"Sorry isn’t good enough. Send me your bill and then don’t ever contact me again. We’re done here." And he Disapparated.
Well, that went well.
EPILOGUE
Five weeks later ...
Potter,
My mother wishes for me to extend an invitation to tea at the Manor. Today, three o’clock. And she says to be on time.
I’ve come to understand that it was at her request you stayed silent on the matter of her location, and that you tried to convince her otherwise. That you insisted she needed to see me sooner rather than later. It appears I was mistaken in my haste to lay blame at your feet.
I feel it my duty to advise you that my father will also be present, at my mother’s request. By return owl, please advise if you will be attending.
I will provide you with an update on her progress over tea, but suffice it to say that she’s coming along. The staff at St Mungo’s were able to restore some of her memories, but full recovery won’t be possible without apprehending the original caster.
On that note, I would like to extend a request for your services once again. As expected, the Aurors have "no leads" and have been of no help whatsoever in this matter.
I would be remiss not to point out that I have yet to receive your invoice. While ordinarily it would be unacceptable to resolve financial matters over tea (not that you would be aware of such etiquette), might I suggest that you bring along the paperwork and I will take care of settling the account in short order.
Awaiting your return owl,
DM
P.S. Should you require further assistance with surveillance activities, I should think we could work that into our new agreement.
Harry scribbled a hasty reply and sent Malfoy’s owl on its way. He looked down at his wrinkled t-shirt and jeans and closed the office. With a grin, he Apparated home. After all, he had a tea to attend. And all sorts of surveillance plans to make.
Title: Blank Slate (part 2 of 2)
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Summary: When Harry’s disregard for the chain of command results in his ousting from the Aurors, he decides to open up his own private investigation firm. When Narcissa Malfoy goes missing and the Aurors do little but go through the motions, Draco finds himself at Harry’s door. While Harry takes the case, he’s not above using the circumstances to his own advantage.
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 16K
Read on AO3
[Blank Slate]
*~*~*
Harry arrived at work late the next morning, having had difficulty sleeping the night before, only to have his dreams - once he finally had drifted off - infiltrated by a snarky blond in an evening gown. Part way through the dream, the gown and long hair had disappeared along with the makeup, and Harry had been left just as turned on by Malfoy in his regular clothes with his distinctly male form as he had been by the female version. He’d woken in the middle of the night painfully hard and had wanked himself raw, Malfoy’s mischievous eyes swimming before him. After that, much to his dismay, he hadn’t been able to fall back asleep for hours.
Things only got worse later that day. They’d be following Mackey and his friend to a gay club that night. This appeared to suit Malfoy just fine as he arrived at Harry’s office looking perfectly comfortable wearing leather pants and a tissue-thin sleeveless t-shirt. And was that a ... nipple ring? Fucking hell. He looked just as hot in this getup as he had in the evening gown the night before. Better, actually, since he looked every bit a man. Harry groaned, wondering what on earth had given him the impression he’d be better at manipulating a situation to his advantage than a lifelong, card-carrying Slytherin.
"What’s the matter, Potter?" he asked innocently. "Do I not look the part?"
Harry’d suggested they meet that afternoon to sort out what would be best to wear - given Malfoy was a pureblood and Harry’d seen how purebloods pulled together Muggle outfits - but clearly Malfoy knew exactly what to wear to a gay club. He didn’t let himself explore that line of thought too much. Instead, having been had once more, he just growled and slammed the door to his office. He could hear Malfoy’s laughter as he sat down and let his head hit the desk. Repeatedly. He’d unleashed a monster, hadn’t he? His cock, on the other hand, was perfectly content with this newly discovered Malfoy. In fact, it was very interested indeed. He banged his head on the desk once more for good measure.
The only solution was to get rid of the git. Which meant finding Narcissa. Not that he hadn’t been looking for her already, but he generally preferred to investigate in stages, giving the narrow scope time to work itself through before broadening his efforts. It also tended to save the clients money in the long run. But, in the interest of his own sanity - specifically getting Malfoy out of his life sooner rather than later - perhaps he ought to ramp it up a notch or two. Malfoy could afford it and maybe, given Narcissa’s ability to travel more readily and stealthily using magic, perhaps it was best anyway.
He’d searched hospital and police reports on Jane Does that had appeared in the area encompassing Witshire through London, as far north as Oxford and as far south as Southampton. The day prior he’d expanded that to the whole of England to see if anything came up. Now he expanded his search to the entirety of the UK and Ireland. Narcissa was a beautiful, if aloof and cultured woman. It was doubtful she’d go unnoticed. She wouldn’t exactly fit into the typical missing person that the police might give no more than a passing glance to, since she was so obviously a woman of means and refinement.
Malfoy came sauntering in - and saunter he did - a few minutes later, still dressed in his flamboyant outfit, nipple ring taunting Harry. "So what time are we heading out to this club?"
Harry suppressed a moan. The man really was too delicious for words. Shame it was Malfoy. "I say we get there a bit before they’re scheduled to meet. Give us a chance to scope the place out." He shrugged. "Say nine thirty?"
"Sounds good to me. The happy hour crowd should be gone by then and most of the night crowd won’t have arrived yet, so we should be able to get a table." Harry narrowed his eyes. Malfoy really did know about the club scene. "So, do you need anything else or shall we just meet back here then?"
Harry doubted he’d get much done if Malfoy stuck around in that getup. "Meet back here around nine. That’ll give us time to secure the surveillance equipment before we head out." He gave Malfoy a once-over, wondering where, even with decent concealment charms, he could place a camera on that sheer shirt. Maybe on that nipple ring?
Malfoy smirked, as though he could read Harry’s thoughts. Thank Merlin Harry’s skills in Occlumency had improved. Malfoy would be positively insufferable if he knew precisely how much Harry was affected by his ... by him. Fuck, that would be a nightmare. "See you then," he said. Harry chose to ignore the sway of his hips as he left Harry’s office and closed the door.
Once Harry heard the crack of Apparition, he got down to work. The sooner he found Narcissa, the sooner Malfoy would be out of his life
At nine o’clock on the dot, Malfoy returned. He still wore the outfit he’d had on earlier, but he’d added some kohl eyeliner, body glitter - fucking hell - and had spiked his hair. He’d also added a pair of heavy, black boots, making his already long legs even longer. He did a slow twirl - to drive Harry completely mad, no doubt - and Harry could swear the pants were even tighter now than they’d been that afternoon. "All set?" he asked.
Harry got up from his desk. "Give me a minute to change."
He went into his back room and emerged a few minutes later wearing a deep green v-neck t-shirt that hugged his biceps and showed off his his abs to the fullest, the tightest black jeans he owned, which Ginny swore did his arse the utmost justice, and his own black boots. Malfoy’s eyes marked a lazy trail over Harry, head to toe and back up again. "Well, well, this is unexpected," Malfoy said. "You clean up alright, Potter."
Harry shrugged. "Just playing the part."
"Mm." Malfoy grinned. "And playing it very well." He approached Harry and reached up to run a hand through Harry’s hair. Harry froze. "May I?" Harry thought it was a bit late to be asking after he’d already touched his hair, but he nodded anyway. Malfoy pulled out his wand and aimed it at his palm. Gel poured out the end and for a moment Harry didn’t know what the hell was going on. Malfoy rubbed his hands together. "Hair gel," he explained. "This should finish up the look." He ran his hands through Harry’s hair again, spreading the gel to the roots. Harry barely resisted moaning into the touch; it had been a long time since ... well. It felt wonderful - Malfoy’s hands felt wonderful - and the scent of the product made him want to sigh.
"There." Malfoy stepped back to take in Harry’s appearance once more. Harry tried not to fidget under his scrutiny. "Perfect."
Harry snorted. "There’s something I never thought I’d hear from you. Not in reference to me, anyway."
Malfoy ran his eyes over Harry’s body once more, not even trying to hide his appreciation - Harry could practically feel the caress - and smirked. "You never looked like this before."
They stared at each other for a long moment, the air crackling between them, before Harry cleared his throat. "Right, then. Let’s get wired up."
"You know, I don’t think it’ll be much of a hardship hanging all over you looking like that, Potter." Once more Harry was subjected to the scrutiny of Malfoy’s gaze. "Don’t get me wrong, your tuxedo was a flattering look - worlds better than the clothes you wore in school, though that’s not a very high bar - and the way you got all flustered was rather amusing. But tonight you look positively edible." He grinned at Harry, his eyes flashing in a way that made Harry feel very much like a dish Malfoy would happily devour.
Harry swallowed, trying to tamp down the surge of lust he’d been trying to keep at bay since Malfoy had shown up in those clothes this afternoon. When he thought he could speak with a clear voice, he said, "Yeah, about that. I think we go in together, but not as a couple. More approachable."
Malfoy pouted and Harry imagined he could get away with an awful lot with a mouth like that. "More’s the pity."
Harry brushed aside the surreal nature of the situation - Malfoy flirting openly with him and Harry seriously wondering what those lips would taste like and how that arse would feel - and ushered them out the door. He had work to do, after all.
They managed to secure a table, thanks to the early hour - not the best position, but they did have a decent view of most of the place, and had a clear sight line to the dance floor. After nearly forty minutes, Malfoy nudged Harry. "Over there." Harry followed his gaze and saw Mackey making his way to the dance floor with the same man he’d met the other night. When they pressed their bodies together and started moving, he said, "Very cosy."
Harry watched as the men moved to the thumping of the music, the blond running his hands freely over Mackey’s chest from behind, Mackey grinding his arse back into the blond’s crotch, his head resting on the blond’s shoulder, eyes closed, lost in the rhythm. Three more songs and more of the same later, Harry expected them to make their way to the back of the club together when they got off the dance floor, but the blond disappeared on his own and Mackey made his way to the bar.
Malfoy watched his approach intently, pulling his straw into his mouth and sucking on it suggestively. Harry’s attention returned to Mackey who’d stopped en route and was now watching Malfoy with a glint in his eye. As he approached, he spared Harry a glance before leaning in and whispering something in Malfoy’s ear. Malfoy chuckled and took another long suck from his straw, drawing Mackey’s gaze once more. "Nice moves."
Mackey held out his hand. "I’m Brad."
Malfoy took his hand, shook it, then used it to draw him closer. "Hi, Brad. I’m David."
"Well, David, what are you having?"
Malfoy took another long suck from his straw. "Vodka tonic."
Brad went to the bar and returned with a drink for Malfoy plus his own, ignoring Harry entirely. When he handed Malfoy his drink, he motioned towards Harry. "You two together?"
"We arrived together," Malfoy said, raising a brow and looking Harry’s way. "But, no. I’m happily unattached. Isn’t that right?"
Harry wanted to argue, wanted the clingy Malfoy back from the night before. It was stupid, he knew. But he’d said it himself: they’d do better separately. And he couldn’t deny the interest Brad had in Malfoy. "Sure," he said, swigging back the last of his own drink, unaccountably irritated. "Happily unattached."
Brad’s bemused look told Harry he hadn’t hidden his irritation well. He stepped closer to Malfoy and leaned towards his ear. "Drink up." He nudged Draco’s glass. "Dance with me."
Malfoy graced him with a wide grin and took a large gulp of his fresh drink, ignoring the straw altogether. "What about your partner?" He eyed the path to the back the blond had taken.
"What about him?"
Malfoy grinned and poured another third of the drink down his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. "You happily unattached too?"
Harry looked at his empty glass and fought the urge to get another.
"Not exactly," Brad admitted. "But you don’t have to worry about him."
Malfoy flashed him another grin and shot back the rest of his drink. "Then let’s dance." He removed Brad’s not quite empty glass from his hand, placed it on the table, and dragged him towards the dance floor. Harry stared helplessly after them.
If Brad’s previous dancing had drawn attention, it was nothing to what he and Malfoy were currently doing. Harry followed their moves, sure to keep his glasses - and the video recording - facing directly towards them. There was no mistaking Brad’s desire as he ground their crotches together, running his hands freely over Malfoy’s back and arse, their bodies practically moulded together as one. Harry barely kept himself in check, a roiling in his gut, unbidden, warring with his need to do his job.
When Brad leaned down to kiss Malfoy, he turned his head, only allowing the other man access to his throat. Brad clutched him more tightly, ground himself more roughly into Malfoy, and Harry had had enough. Convinced he’d obtained all the evidence he would tonight for the wife - short of catching him in the act, which was sure as hell not happening with Malfoy - he marched onto the dance floor, tugging Malfoy’s arm from the man’s shoulder and spinning him around and into Harry’s arms.
After his initial shock at being manhandled by Harry, Malfoy allowed himself a self-satisfied grin. The smug bastard knew exactly what he was doing and Harry was helpless to resist. They stared at each other for a heartbeat until their bodies responded to the thrum of the music, both stepping in closer until they fitted together, chest to thigh, both of them ignoring the protests of the man who thought he’d be going home with Malfoy tonight. Distantly, Harry registered that Malfoy hadn’t been affected by all the rutting he and Brad had been doing, and something inside him cheered. As the two of them moved together, however, that soon changed.
Malfoy’s hard chest, smooth skin and slender, swaying hips were too seductive for words. By the time the song ended, they were both rock hard. When Malfoy scraped his teeth over Harry’s pulse point on his neck and rasped, "Let’s get out of here," it was Harry’s undoing, and he couldn’t drag him out the door fast enough. They Apparated from the first free alley they found to Harry’s office and were all over each other before they’d even steadied themselves properly.
All heat, all desire, there was nothing remotely gentle about their coming together. Harry gulped down Malfoy’s moans and Malfoy plundered Harry’s mouth with his tongue. Like with everything else, they fought for dominance and fuck, it was glorious.
Malfoy pulled back and stripped off his hardly-there shirt, then yanked Harry’s t-shirt over his head. The brief separation allowed Harry’s brain catch up to their surroundings. "This is a bad idea," he said as Malfoy grabbed his belt loops and pulled him back in.
"Horrible," Malfoy agreed before resuming his exploration of Harry’s mouth. He pulled back, breathless. "Highly unprofessional." Then he licked a strip up Harry’s neck and bit down on his earlobe.
Harry moaned. "Seriously, though," Harry dragged his nails down Malfoy’s back before pressing him against the wall and Malfoy growled. "You’re a client."
"And you’re a rule breaker," Malfoy reminded him, reaching his hand down to Harry’s groin and squeezing his fully hard cock. "What’s the problem?"
With Malfoy’s hand on his dick, Harry couldn’t think of a single one.
He reached for Malfoy’s waistband, quickly undoing the leather pants and reaching in to grab hold of his length. Malfoy’s "Fuck, yes," was all the encouragement he needed.
As Harry began to stroke, Malfoy struggled to release Harry from the confines of his jeans. Harry halted briefly to give him better access and once he took Harry’s cock in his sure grip, Harry’s world was reduced to sensation. Rocking into Malfoy’s fist, Harry wordlessly conjured lube into his free hand, then pulled Malfoy’s hand off him. Spreading the cool gel over both their rigid cocks, he pressed them together and resumed stroking, his hand joined soon enough by Malfoy’s.
Malfoy let out a groan and found Harry’s mouth with his own once more. He tasted faintly of gin and lime and Harry drank it in, drunk on lust and thirsty for all he could get. As their lube-coated hands stroked ever harder and faster, filthy squelching noises filled the air, driving them towards climax. And fuck, Malfoy’s tongue was just as filthy as he thrust into Harry’s mouth with messy abandon. Harry’s hips thrust forward, pressing Malfoy into the wall over and over again. And when Malfoy’s thumb brushed over the head of his cock, Harry plummeted over the edge.
His come now mixing with the lube to make the slide even smoother, and his strokes losing all rhythm, Harry hardened his grip, determined to bring Malfoy to the brink. A few strokes later, Malfoy’s cock twitched and spurted between them. Harry rode the wave until his over-stimulated prick demanded he stop.
Blinking heavily lidded eyes, Malfoy rested his head back against the wall, breathing heavily and grinning lazily, utterly debauched. Harry grinned back and leaned in for another kiss, this one slow and deep and leisurely. Malfoy’s arms reached up and he dragged fingers through Harry’s hair, pulling him in closer and deepening the kiss. The intimacy of the moment - much more so than what had gone before - struck Harry and he wondered briefly what might have been if their lives had taken a different path when they’d first met.
With a wave of his arm, he vanished the mess and then proceeded to tuck Malfoy back into his pants and pull up and fasten his trousers. As he did the same for himself, Malfoy retrieved their shirts, handed Harry his and pulled his own back on. "I should go."
He didn’t move, though, and Harry once more closed the distance between them and kissed him. When they parted, Harry rested his forehead against Malfoy’s. "Mm. Me too." And he kissed him again. And again. And one more time for good measure.
Malfoy chuckled. "Okay, I really do have to go now. I have a job to go to in the morning."
Harry brushed the hair off Malfoy’s forehead with his fingers and leaned in for another. "So do I."
*~*~*
The next morning, Harry knew he should regret what had happened the night before - Malfoy was a client, after all - but he couldn’t bring himself to. He’d done a healthy amount of soul searching once he’d got home and found that this turn of events shouldn’t really have come as too much of a surprise. Sure, they’d hated each other in school, but more than anything they’d vied for each other’s attention. And hadn’t Ron and Hermione repeatedly told Harry he was obsessed with Malfoy?
And there was no denying their mutual attraction. Malfoy was hot as hell - how had Harry missed that? - and that mouth. Harry wanted more of that. Wanted to feel it all over him. Wanted to feel Malfoy beneath him, inside him, all around him. Oh, yes. He wanted to discover all there was to know about the snarky man who’d been the snarky kid that had pissed him off at every turn in school.
He dragged his hands over his face in an effort to clear his head. He drank a good measure of his extra strong and sweet coffee and turned on his computer. And what he saw there did more to dispel the fog than any of his previous efforts.
He’d got a hit on Narcissa. A woman matching her description had been brought to a Muggle care facility in Wales of all places a couple of weeks ago. She had no memory of who she was or where she’d come from, but had been oddly but well-dressed and had clearly come from an affluent home.
Harry thought about contacting Malfoy, but didn’t want to get his hopes up in case it wasn’t Narcissa. He replied and asked if he could drop by to see her later that day. While he waited for a reply, he filled up on caffeine and wrote up the previous night’s case notes. He printed several still shots of Mackey - aka "Brad" - mauling Malfoy and added a copy of the relevant sections of the time stamped surveillance tapes to the file. After reviewing the full content of the case file to date, he decided that one more stake-out would be in order.
*~*~*
Harry entered the facility at two o’clock that afternoon. It wasn’t unlike the Malfoy Manor grounds, as it turned out: a large manor house situated on a large property with a grand entrance and a wooded area out back. No peacocks, he noted. It didn’t feel like a hospital or long-term care home and, but for a number of patients in wheelchairs and staff dressed in tell-tale pastel uniforms, it could have been someone’s personal estate.
Harry introduced himself to the Head Nurse, Rebecca, who took him on a brief tour of the facility. While they wandered the halls and grounds, Harry asked some questions about their Jane Doe that Rebecca - with a little nudge from a handy little spell - happily answered. When she brought him to Narcissa’s room - and it was, indeed, Narcissa - he was relieved to see her healthy and well dressed, though it was odd to see her in Muggle attire. She sat at a table by the window overlooking the grounds, and had been reading a book he didn’t recognise when they’d entered.
Rebecca introduced him. "Jane, dear, this young man is Harry. He’s a private investigator." When Harry nodded, she smiled. "He was hired to find you."
She turned a confused face to Harry. "You were?"
Harry smiled. "I was. Your family is very worried about you."
She frowned. "They are?"
"They are indeed."
Narcissa worried her lower lip and wrung the hands she had resting in her lap. With another nudge from a surreptitious spell, Rebecca asked, "Is it okay for me to leave the two of you alone to talk?" Narcissa nodded. "Well, then. I’ll come back in half an hour to see how you’re doing, shall I?"
Harry shook her hand. "Thank you, Rebecca. I’ll call if we need you any sooner."
"I’ll have some tea brought to the room."
Once she left, Harry sat down in the chair opposite Narcissa. She wasted no time. "So who am I?"
"Your name is Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black, and you live at Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire, England."
She blinked as she absorbed the information. She mouthed ‘Narcissa’ but nothing he’d said seemed to jog anything. "You say my family hired you?"
He hesitated, not wanting to overload her with too much information, but figured this couldn’t be helped. "Your son did, yes."
Her eyes became glassy. "I have a son?"
"Yes."
Her leg began to bounce and colour flowed to her cheeks. "How old is he? Do I have any other children? Why isn’t he here with you?"
Harry smiled. "He’s your only child. He’s the same age as I am - that would be twenty-five - and his name is Draco." He watched for recognition in her face but saw none. "I came here on my own, because I didn’t want to get his hopes up, if you turned out not to be his mother."
She wrung her hands a bit more before frowning at Harry. "And how can you be sure I am?"
"Because I know you too." Her eyes widened in surprise. "Draco and I went to school together. I’ve met you before."
She visibly relaxed. "So you two were classmates?"
"We went to the same school and we were in the same year, yes, but we weren’t close." No point saying any more than that. "We were in different school houses."
"Ah, I see." She didn’t see, but it was hardly Harry’s place to tell her any more.
The tea arrived then and the young woman who’d brought it busied herself setting it up on the table, taking her time and not-so-subtly watching Harry out of the corner of her eye. He smiled at her and she blushed before bustling out of the room, apparently flustered.
Narcissa grinned. "I think young Marjorie might have her eye on you."
Harry raised his brows. "Oh, really?"
"Indeed." Narcissa poured some milk into her tea and brought the cup up to her mouth. "I’m surprisingly observant for someone who doesn’t know who she is."
Harry grinned. "You were always observant, from what I recall. I think it’s a family trait."
"And here you said you and my son were not friends."
He shrugged. "I’m rather observant myself."
They spent the rest of the time on questions and answers - Harry asking about the facility, the staff and the other residents (per Rebecca, they weren’t called patients), and Narcissa asking about her home, family and friends. As Harry didn’t want to overwhelm her, both because it wasn’t his place and because he didn’t know how she’d react, he answered as vaguely and concisely as possible.
"You’re avoiding my questions," she observed.
He put down his cup. "Not exactly," he explained. "I wasn’t lying when I said Draco and I weren’t friends. We may have interacted from time to time, but we didn’t talk about ourselves or our families. And the only times I met or saw you weren’t social occasions. So what I know is only through that lens and I don’t think I would be doing you much of a service by answering questions I don’t really no the answers to. Draco should be the one to respond."
She narrowed her eyes and stared at him for some time. Even wandless, he feared she could see inside his thoughts, so he enlisted his Occlumency. "I sense that there’s a lot you aren’t telling me, Harry. That there’s a lot more to this."
He smiled. "Like I said, you’re observant. There’s an entire world I’m not telling you about, because it’s not my place."
She put her empty cup onto the table. "Will you come see me again tomorrow?"
"Of course." He wondered how Malfoy would react when he met this stranger in his mother’s body. "I’ll speak to Draco when I get back to my office and we’ll arrange for a time to return. I can fill him in on your condition and see if he can bring some of your things with him, to try to jog your memory."
"Um ..." She starting wringing her hands together again. "Would you be able to come back on your own?"
"I’m sorry?"
"I ... I don’t know that I’m ready to see my son." Harry tried to hide his surprise. It didn’t work. "Oh, it’s not what you’re thinking. I want to see him. I do. But I’m finding it difficult to accept that I have a child and I have no memory of it. How can I not remember him? I’m his mother!"
Tears leaked out of her eyes and Harry reached for her hands. "It’s not your fault," he assured her. "Draco won’t blame you."
"But how could you know that?"
"Know what? That it’s not your fault?" She nodded. "Well, you want to regain your memory, don’t you?" She nodded again. "Then it’s not your fault. And as for Draco, he loves you. He wouldn’t have hired me of all people to find you if he didn’t. And I know you love him too. More than anything."
She pulled her hands away and looked at him shrewdly. "But I thought you said you didn’t really know me. How could you possibly know that?"
He sighed. "It’s a long story. A very long story. I will tell you this, though. I witnessed you risk a lot for the sake of your son. I know you love him and I’m convinced you would never do anything to hurt him, including leave without letting him know."
"But -"
He took her hands in his once more. "It’s not my place to say any more. I wish I could, but it just wouldn’t be right."
She let out a defeated sigh and drew her hands back once more. "Fine, then."
"So I can bring Draco to see you?"
She frowned. "No. Not yet. I want to take a few days to try to remember. I want to know my son before I see his face. Can you give me that?"
Harry didn’t like it, but he thought he might understand. He recalled how distraught Hermione had been when she’d gone to Australia to get her parents and they hadn’t recognised her. And she knew exactly what had happened to them, that she had cast the spells to protect them. But it still didn’t make the experience any easier.
"I won’t tell Draco anything before I come see you again tomorrow. You have my word." She relaxed and smiled gratefully at him. "But I can’t promise anything beyond that." She nodded.
*~*~*
Malfoy,
Working some leads and will be out tonight and most of the morning and afternoon. Maybe we can meet at my office when you’re done work tomorrow and talk about the case.
I think we’re looking pretty good on the "Brad" case. Maybe one more instance to solidify the wife’s position. But you’re off the hook tonight. No surveillance, no dresses and no leather pants.
Harry
He re-read the note and decided it would have to do. He didn’t want to lie to Malfoy’s face, but he’d given Narcissa his word. Best just to avoid him altogether. Not very Gryffindor like, but needs must. Besides, he really did have work to do.
As evening turned to night, guilt built up in Harry. He couldn’t help thinking that if it were his mother, he’d want to know. Right away. And then his imagination started getting the better of him. What if Narcissa wasn’t, in fact, suffering from memory loss? What if she really had left and wanted nothing to do with her old life? And what if she’d played Harry and would be gone by the time he returned?
He replayed the day over and over again in his mind, but reached the same conclusion every time. Narcissa was a confused woman whose anguish over having a son she couldn’t remember was real. It had to be.
Not that Harry slept any better knowing that.
*~*~*
"Ah, Harry," Rebecca greeted him. "Jane - I mean Narcissa - has been waiting for you. Marjorie brought a tea service already and set it up in her room."
He smiled. "Sorry I’m late. A meeting I had ran a bit long."
She waved towards Narcissa’s room. "Oh, not to worry. It’s only been ten minutes or so. Perfect for the tea to steep." Harry thanked her and made his way to Narcissa’s room.
The door stood open and Narcissa once again was sat by the window, looking out over the grounds. When he tapped lightly on the door, she turned and greeted him with a soft smile. "I was beginning to wonder if you were coming after all. I think Marjorie was disappointed she missed you."
Harry chuckled. "Sorry. Meeting went late. Came right over when it was done."
She smiled again, motioned for him to take a seat and poured them both a cup of tea. Harry added milk and sugar to his, then got right down to business. "Have you been able to remember anything?"
Her smile faded and she sipped her tea. "No." She blinked and was able to keep the tears from flowing this time. "Nothing."
"I see." Harry hadn’t expected her to remember, particularly if she’d been Obliviated, which he suspected she had been. As wonderful as the Welsh country air was, what she needed now was St Mungo’s. But how to convince her of that without telling her anything? "And have you thought more about Draco?"
"I’ve thought of little else." Her hand shook as she put down her teacup. "Why can’t I remember?"
"There could be many reasons, which I’m sure the medical staff here have told you. But whatever the cause, Draco will want to get you the best care possible."
She scowled. "Do you think there’s something wrong with the care here?"
Harry put down his own cup. "Oh, no. Not at all. Not that I’ve done much research - and I’m certainly not an expert - but what I have read about this facility is all positive. Whoever brought you here was acting on your best interest, I’m sure." When Harry had spoken with Rebecca the previous day, he’d been able to ascertain who’d brought her in - a local Muggle that had run across her at his coffee shop, had struck up a conversation with her and, when he’d discovered her predicament, had offered to help. After some quick investigation, Harry had been able to verify his story and rule him out as anyone that might have been involved in her disappearance. Harry planned to go to the coffee shop today when he left Narcissa and talk to the man himself. "But your family is wealthy and I’m sure they would spare no expense to get you the best care available."
She stared out the window. "Do you have time to go for a walk?"
Harry stood up. "Of course." He held out his hand for her and helped her up. "It’s a beautiful day."
They spent a good half hour walking the grounds, Narcissa telling him about the people who worked there, how she had a love for classical music, and how she felt strangely at home here.
"That’s probably because this looks an awful lot like your house in Wiltshire."
"Oh, have you been there?"
Harry barely held back a shudder. "I have. It’s been in your husband’s family for generations."
They stopped to sit on a bench overlooking an ornate fountain. "And it’s as peaceful and beautiful as this place?"
Harry listened to the sound of the water flowing and coughed. "I don’t know about that," he explained. "I was only there the one time and I didn’t get to see very much of the place. And I was in rather a rush to leave at the time. Still ... I was reminded of it when I came by yesterday. The outside anyway."
"Well, maybe when I get back there, Draco will have you around for a visit, so we can have tea again and you can see it properly."
Harry smiled. He imagined Lucius might have something to say about that, but ... well ... "I’d like that," Harry said. And was surprised that he truly meant it. Gone was the Narcissa Malfoy he’d met all those years ago. This was a woman who - free from the confines of her upbringing and life with Lucius - Harry could enjoy spending an afternoon with. "So does that mean I can bring Draco here tomorrow?"
"I would rather wait, to be honest. Give it some more time. But I sense some urgency from you." Harry nodded. "I know you’re holding back - and I understand, really I do - and I can see that you aren’t going to tell me what I need to know."
"I’m sorry, Narcissa, but I can’t. Draco needs to be the one to tell you, and I think you should have him with you when you find out ... everything. It may be quite a shock."
Narcissa reached for his hand. "It’s a strange thing to not know who you are, to not know where you’re from, where you’ve been, where you belong. This is a lovely place, and the people here are wonderful. But I feel oddly out of place, more than can be explained by the memory loss, I think. But when you showed up yesterday ..." She squeezed his hand. "I felt a kinship with you."
"You did?" This surprised Harry. She hadn’t shown any recognition. "You remembered me?" Why would she remember him, of all people?
She laughed and released his hand. "Oh, no. Nothing like that. More like there was a familiarity about you. Not that I knew you personally, but that we shared something. It’s nothing I can put my finger on, but I just felt that I could trust you."
"Oh." Harry smiled. "I’m glad."
"So, since I trust you, Harry, even though I would prefer to give myself some more time, I will agree to have you bring Draco here tomorrow."
Harry smiled. "I’ll see him later today. We could come tonight."
Narcissa stood up and put her hands on her hips, looking every bit the formidable matriarch once more. "Don’t push it."
He laughed, got up and offered his arm for her to take. "Wouldn’t dream of it."
*~*~*
Harry had just poured himself a cup of tea when a harried looking Malfoy walked in and threw himself onto a chair. "Tell me two things, Potter. One: you do not need me to help with surveillance tonight - I’m knackered; and two: you have some news on my mother’s case."
"Want some tea?" Harry asked. "I just made a pot."
Malfoy sat up. "Tea would be glorious, yes. It’s been a hell of a day."
Harry got him a cup of tea and waited for him to take a sip and put it down. When he leaned back in the chair and let out a deep sigh of exhaustion, Harry said, "No surveillance tonight and I have some news."
He shot back up, alert once more. "You have? Is she okay? Where is she?"
"Whoa, whoa. Relax."
"I can’t relax, Potter. As if you could relax!"
"Fair enough. But I need you to listen, okay?" When he looked ready to argue, Harry added, "She’s fine."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on Harry’s desk, gripping his cup like a lifeline. "What happened to her?"
"First of all, she’s fine, as I said. Physically. But she has no memory of who she is or anything else, really."
"She was Obliviated?"
Harry nodded. "I think so, but I can’t be sure. She’s at a Muggle care facility."
"Well, we need to get her out of there right now. Get her to Mungo’s. Better yet, get her some private care. I’ll have father call his contacts and -"
"Hold on." Harry held up his hand. "She’s being well taken care of where she is. She seems happy and healthy."
"Wait. You’ve seen her?"
Harry had hoped he’d have more time to explain things before this came up. He ran a hand through his hair. "I had to be sure it was her. I didn’t want to get your hopes up and drag you off to Wales -"
"She’s in Wales?"
Harry sighed. "Can I get a sentence or two out without you interrupting me?"
Malfoy scowled, but nodded. "Go on then."
"Right. She’s at a Muggle care facility in Wales. It’s a manor home not unlike your home. So, even though she doesn’t remember her home or anything else, it’s comforting for her. The people are nice and they care for her well. She likes them."
"And you’ve seen this for yourself?"
Harry nodded. "I have. And I interviewed the Head Nurse. I found out who brought her there, and I met with him this afternoon. And before you ask, no, he had nothing to do with her disappearance. He’s a Muggle that runs a coffee shop. He also didn’t see anyone with her, so that’s a dead end. For now."
"Is that it? Can we go now?"
"Er ..." How to convince Malfoy not to storm the place and drag his mother out?
Malfoy leaned in and glared at Harry. "What do you mean, ‘er’? I want. To see. My mother. NOW!"
Harry sat back in his chair, putting distance between them, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Would you like to continue yelling, or will you listen?"
"What the fuck, Potter? My mother’s been missing for weeks!"
"And she’s fine. One more night won’t harm her."
"Another night? I didn’t agree to that!"
"She’s scared, Malfoy." Harry couldn’t tell him that Narcissa had asked for the night. "She doesn’t know who she is or who you are. She didn’t recognise me and she didn’t react when I told her about you and your father."
He narrowed his eyes menacingly. "What did you tell her?"
"For fuck’s sake, Malfoy, what do you think I told her? That she has a husband and son. That you love her very much and you miss her. That we weren’t friends, but you sought me out to find her." He ran his hands through his hair again. "I told her nothing else. She pressed me for more information, but I told her that it wasn’t my place. I gave her little details, told her the place she’s in reminded me of her home. Told her that her family is wealthy and would want to hire the best care for her. That’s about all."
"You didn’t tell her she’s a witch?"
"Fuck, no! What if that scared her? What if she thought I was crazy? I think that’s the sort of news, when coupled with the strain of her complete memory loss, best delivered by family and with a Healer on hand. Don’t you agree?"
He took a few deep breaths. "I suppose."
"And don’t you think it’d be best to give yourself tonight to think about what you’re going to say to her and how you’re going to say it? And to prepare yourself for the likelihood that she won’t recognise you when you walk in. That won’t be easy."
Malfoy stood up and started pacing and muttering under his breath. After a solid five minutes of that, Harry broke the silence. "If you’re done wearing a path in my carpet, perhaps we could put together a plan. I spoke with Rebecca - she’s the Head Nurse - and she gave me a few ideas about what you might want to bring and how you might want to approach your mother."
"I think I know how to talk to my own mother, Potter."
"But right now she’s not your mother. She has no memory of being anyone’s mother. Or wife. She doesn’t remember her upbringing, her marriage, Voldemort, the war. Nothing. She’s a blank slate. Too much too fast might cause information overload. You need to be careful."
"You’ll pardon me if I think a Healer would be better placed to comment."
"I agree. But in the meantime, take the advice of the experts you have. I’ll help you with that."
They spent the rest of the evening making still copies of photographs and compiling details about family and friends. And Harry was relieved when Draco didn’t suggest bringing Lucius along.
*~*~*
The next day, they arrived to be greeted, once again, by Rebecca. Harry introduced them and told her what they’d planned.
"That sounds very good." She smiled at Malfoy. "We find it goes much more smoothly, for all concerned, when details are introduced gradually. Sometimes it’s one small detail that triggers an influx of memories - and of course that’s what we wish for - but when nothing readily unfolds, the experience becomes traumatic for everyone. The patient gets frustrated because they don’t remember, the family gets impatient when they can’t get through, everyone pushes and then they end up angry with themselves and at each other." She placed a reassuring hand on Malfoy’s arm. "I’m glad you decided to go gently."
He shot Harry a glance, then looked back at Rebecca. "I’ll be honest with you. I wanted to storm in here last night and take her home. Harry here stopped me and made me see reason."
Harry couldn’t bring himself to be smug. "I just want what’s best for Narcissa."
Rebecca smiled. "She’ll be glad to see you again. Go on then."
*~*~*
Narcissa sat in her usual spot by the window as they approached. "Mother?" Malfoy’s voice was barely above a whisper beside him. "Mother, is it really you?" He started to move forward but then stopped himself and waited.
She turned around and looked at Draco, then Harry, then back to Draco. She blinked, no recognition behind her blue eyes, and said, "You must be Draco."
Harry’s heart broke for them both in that moment. He’d known what to expect, but deep down inside, he’d hoped that the sight of Draco would bring everything flooding back. But it wasn’t meant to be. When Draco’s breath hitched, but he didn’t otherwise show his pain, Harry was thankful that he’d explained what had happened to Hermione when she’d retrieved her parents. Still, it was hard to witness.
Malfoy stepped inside then. "Yes, I’m your son, Draco. And I hired Harry here to find you."
"Harry’s a good boy," she said with a smile. "He’s been very nice to me." She turned a mock-glare towards Harry. "Even if he wouldn’t tell me very much." She returned her gaze to her son. "He said that it should come from you." She blinked and turned to look out the window for a moment to compose herself. When she turned back, she stood up. "Well, it’s a beautiful day. Shall we go for a walk?"
Harry offered to leave them to it, but two sets of panicked eyes met his own, so he went along. They walked the grounds and settled at the same fountain when she said, "Okay, tell me everything."
"Narcissa, I don’t think -"
"Nonsense, Harry. You told me Draco must tell me everything. Now he’s here. He can tell me everything."
Draco pulled out his folder and opened it. "Rebecca recommends taking things slowly," he explained. "I will tell you everything, eventually, but how about we take it one step at a time?"
She pursed her lips but nodded. "Very well then."
Draco smiled and passed her a photograph. "This is a picture of you and your sisters and your parents when you were a child."
They spent the next two hours going through the pictures, Harry getting up and walking away on his own several times to give them privacy. When they’d gone through all the material they’d brought, both Malfoys looked exhausted. Narcissa stood up. "Well, shall we head inside for some tea?"
They made it to Narcissa’s room at the same time Marjorie arrived with the tea service. She blushed when she saw Harry, and scooted in just ahead of them to get it set up. When she was done, Narcissa thanked her.
"Oh, it’s my pleasure," Marjorie said, blushing once more as she looked at Harry. "It’s not everyone that’s lucky enough to get a visitor three days in a row. I’m happy to oblige." And she left.
Harry’s blood went cold when he met Draco’s glare. And then it was gone.
"I thought I would bring Father along tomorrow and we could bring you home together."
"Your father?"
"Yes." He sipped his tea, then put the cup down. "He and Harry don’t get on very well, so I thought it better to come alone today."
"Oh, so Harry won’t be joining us tomorrow?"
"No, I don’t think so." The glare returned for an instant. "I think it’s better that way." He turned back to his mother with a smile. "After all, he’s completed the job I hired him for, hasn’t he?"
Harry took that as his cue to leave. "I’ll leave the two of you to work out the details then, shall I?" He stood up and took Narcissa’s hand between his two, giving it a squeeze. "You’re in good hands with Draco. But if there is ever anything you need, you can call on me."
"Yes, well, I’m sure she’ll be fine, Potter."
Harry winced inwardly, then kissed Narcissa on the cheek. "I’m glad to have found you. And I’ll do my best to work out what happened. Take care."
She hugged him gently and when she pulled back, her eyes were damp. "Thank you, Harry."
He smiled. "You’re very welcome."
*~*~*
He was in his office for under twenty minutes when Malfoy stormed in. "What the fuck, Potter?"
Harry ran a tired hand through his hair, reached into his cupboard and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of Firewhiskey. Without asking, he poured each of them a triple and slid Malfoy’s across the desk to him. "Are you okay?"
"Of course I’m not okay!" He paced around the office for half a minute before grabbing his glass and shooting back half the contents. "My own mother doesn’t know me!"
Harry sipped from his own glass. "I know. I’m sorry."
"And you kept it from me for THREE DAYS! What the fuck is that about? That makes it -" He did some mental calculations before his eyes narrowed. "You fucking bastard!"
Harry held up his hands. "No, no. You’ve got it all wrong."
"Oh, have I? Then enlighten me, you fucking wanker."
"Two days ago - the day after the club and ... well - I got a hit on some of the notices I sent out. That same day I went to see if it was Narcissa. And it was."
"And you didn’t tell me, why?"
Harry couldn’t tell him. "I knew she didn’t remember anything and - well, I thought she could use a day to think about what I’d told her. To maybe remember something."
Malfoy sipped from his glass and banged it on the desk. "That’s bullshit. You know she’s not just going to recover on her own from an Obliviate. She needs treatment."
"If she’s been Obliviated. We still don’t know that for sure."
He banged a fist on the desk. "Oh, come on. We both know that’s what’s going on here."
"Most likely, yes. But - as I’ve told you before - Hermione’s parents-"
"What the hell do they have to do with anything?"
Harry ran a hand through his hair again. "Just that I’m aware that timing isn’t an issue. If your mother’s memories can be restored, they can be. Another day, week, month, or even year won’t make a difference. She was scared - is scared. I gave her an extra day. I saw her two days ago, then again yesterday. I told her I’d bring you there today and she agreed."
Malfoy finished his drink and stood up. "You should have told me as soon as you found out. I trusted you to find her and you betrayed me."
"Malfoy, I’m sorry."
"Sorry isn’t good enough. Send me your bill and then don’t ever contact me again. We’re done here." And he Disapparated.
Well, that went well.
EPILOGUE
Five weeks later ...
Potter,
My mother wishes for me to extend an invitation to tea at the Manor. Today, three o’clock. And she says to be on time.
I’ve come to understand that it was at her request you stayed silent on the matter of her location, and that you tried to convince her otherwise. That you insisted she needed to see me sooner rather than later. It appears I was mistaken in my haste to lay blame at your feet.
I feel it my duty to advise you that my father will also be present, at my mother’s request. By return owl, please advise if you will be attending.
I will provide you with an update on her progress over tea, but suffice it to say that she’s coming along. The staff at St Mungo’s were able to restore some of her memories, but full recovery won’t be possible without apprehending the original caster.
On that note, I would like to extend a request for your services once again. As expected, the Aurors have "no leads" and have been of no help whatsoever in this matter.
I would be remiss not to point out that I have yet to receive your invoice. While ordinarily it would be unacceptable to resolve financial matters over tea (not that you would be aware of such etiquette), might I suggest that you bring along the paperwork and I will take care of settling the account in short order.
Awaiting your return owl,
DM
P.S. Should you require further assistance with surveillance activities, I should think we could work that into our new agreement.
Harry scribbled a hasty reply and sent Malfoy’s owl on its way. He looked down at his wrinkled t-shirt and jeans and closed the office. With a grin, he Apparated home. After all, he had a tea to attend. And all sorts of surveillance plans to make.