HP FIC: Take Me With You (H/D, PG-13)
Title: Take Me With You
Author: sugareey
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harry and Draco work together as Aurors. What should have been an ordinary mission ends up bringing back some memories Harry swore he buried away for good.
Word count: 7,419
Disclaimer: All character belong to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury/Scholastic, etc. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's note: For the awdt Halloween photo prompts of a moonlit corn field, a wooden house, a cemetery, a shadow against the wall, a bonfire, a scary creature on a stake and a pizza box for a costume. Thanks to cursedinsanity for betaing! Cheers and enjoy!
It was a clear night, with the full moon high in the sky, and the trees gently swaying in the breeze. Crows could be heard cawing before taking flight. Tonight was great for a party. But instead, they were outside in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by weeds, crops and a pile of dead logs as they approached the dark and empty house ahead.
Harry looked around cautiously, his wand out in front of him. It was never a good sign to see abandoned places like this one. It always brought back old memories, wherein he was too late to save one more person. Harry had already had his fair share of visiting cemeteries after attending so many funerals within the last couple of years.
And then there were still people in hiding. If someone like Slughorn could demolish a house and turn himself into a chair when Harry and Dumbledore had gone to find him, anything was possible. No chances could be taken, especially on a mission.
He nodded to Draco, who simply rolled his eyes and roughly pushed past him.
“Don’t you think you’re taking this assignment a bit seriously?” asked Draco, raising an eyebrow. He tossed his own wand up in the air before catching it gracefully. “It’s Halloween. I’m sure if there’s anyone here, it’s just a couple of idiot Muggles doing what they do for fun.”
“You mean smoking marijuana and get intoxicated? Not in an old, abandoned farm in Painswick,” replied Harry with irritation. “Look, Kingsley wouldn’t have sent us here if it was that simple. He said there was strange activity detected in this area. That means suspicious magic, which could mean Death Eaters. It’s worth checking out.”
“I highly doubt Death Eaters would hide in some old, rotten house,” drawled Draco haughtily. “They have better things to do, such as torturing Muggles instead of burning crops and animals in bonfires like the Celts.”
“Like you would know,” muttered Harry under his breath, waving his wand. “Lumos!”
“Nox!” hissed Draco, turning Harry’s light off and stomping on his foot. “You pillock! Are you trying to get us killed? Someone could have seen that!”
“Ow! That wasn’t called for! And I thought you said there’s no one here.”
“I never said that! I just don’t think-”
“Malfoy, take a look at that. Over there.”
They both stopped in their tracks to observe the field on their right. The corn crops that had once filled the field were now either flattened or burned in an unusual sequence. Harry walked closer, squinting to see more of the damaged plants under the moonlight.
“A crop circle?” questioned Draco with a frown, taking a few steps forward.
“Yeah, seems like it,” answered Harry, perplexed. He walked up to a blackened corn plant, using his fingers to pluck off a dead leaf. It instantly disintegrated into dust. “This was crafted pretty well. Definitely with magic.”
“Oh, really?”
“Shut it, you. Seriously, what do you think?”
“Seeing that this is a farm, crop circle it is.”
Harry worried his lip with his teeth. If there was a crop circle here, that would mean…
“It had to be either daemons or-”
“Druids,” finished Draco, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Halloween is Samhain for them. Spirits of the dead supposedly come back tonight, so that the Druids can make their prophecies.”
“But why here? Why in this bloody village instead of-”
“Druids won’t want to disperse themselves in London, Potter. It would be too obvious and the Ministry would have them by their heads.”
“I thought Druids had their own villages? They don’t attack or destroy anything unless they’re provoked. It still could be daemons.”
“Daemons? Why are you so sure that daemons caused this? They don’t dillydally, waiting for people to come by! Daemons need to find hosts before they can kill! They also lie and-”
“Been reading up on some folklore, have you?” teased Harry with a smug grin. He gently punched Draco in the arm, which earned him a slap on the wrist. “Hey, watch it! It’s not my fault you can’t even admit that I might be right for once.”
“Whatever,” dismissed Draco grumpily, shoving Harry with his shoulder. “Let’s go into the house to investigate.”
Harry followed Draco slowly and quietly, constantly looking around to make sure no one has tracked them down.
This was how they worked, now that they were Auror partners. Harry had never expected Draco to join the Auror department, or even work at the Ministry. Draco hadn’t even told him about passing the exam and training until he had showed up one morning in Kingsley’s office, waiting to be assigned to a partner. Harry had walked in to ask Kingsley about his latest case, and the sight of Draco made him drop his file, his jaw hanging wide open. Draco had simply snorted while Harry had stuck his tongue out. Kingsley had scolded them to stop acting like petulant children.
The rest was history.
At first, working with Draco was a bit…surreal. It wasn’t like they weren’t friends, they were. However, they always did their own thing. Draco had his family and Harry had his friends. Most of the time, Harry preferred to spend time alone, hoping to sort out the future ahead of him, now that he had one. It had once made sense to become an Auror, but he knew the real reason was to fill up his time. If he was honest with himself, he had no idea what he wanted in his life. With no girlfriend or family to worry about, Harry put all his time and effort into his work.
Whenever Draco sought out his company though, things were different. Harry wasn’t exactly a person who declined an offer to get a drink every so often. Besides, he liked talking to Draco. Draco was someone who knew him well, sometimes a bit too well.
A doubtful friendship had flourished between them after Harry returned the hawthorn wand to Draco during their eighth year, or what was a repeated seventh year for most. Draco had been friendless and indebted to him at the time, but that wasn’t why Harry extended his hand when they saw each other again. Everyone deserved a second chance. Harry had been given numerous chances (some undeserved), and if people could learn from their mistakes, that was what mattered.
Giving Draco another chance was probably the best thing that had ever happened. Harry learned to trust Draco with secrets he refused to share with anyone else, and Draco was able to do the same. When it came to Ministry cases, they ended up working so well together that everyone had to admit that they were the top two Aurors in Britain. A year into their jobs had earned them both Order of Merlin, first class, awards and a few other badges for their phenomenal work.
Draco liked to lead, and Harry watched their backs. It was natural for him, after fighting Voldemort and the Death Eaters for half of his life. This mission wasn’t any different. Harry couldn’t help but anticipate an attack. He gripped his wand tighter, taking a deep breath as the wooden house came closer into view.
He froze when he saw a corpse on a stake, falling behind as Draco continued walking to the porch of the house. The moonlight was enough to make its shadow resemble a tall, ghastly monster against the wall.
“Malfoy…”
“Potter, hurry up! We don’t have all night!”
“Malfoy,” Harry tried again, swallowing hard as he took in the blackened remains in front of him. “You should see this. Something’s definitely not right here.”
Draco sighed loudly, turning on his heel to see what Harry was looking at. As he got closer though, he froze too, staring at the corpse with wide eyes. “Merlin’s beard…”
Harry took some time to survey the tattered hood, hollowed face and long, decayed hands. “Looks like a Dementor,” he said. “Except Dementors are supposed to be immortal. Maybe it’s a really badly-made scarecrow.”
“Or this could be some poor excuse of a Halloween decoration. This thing is hideous. Even banshees and shtrigas have seen better days!”
“That’s not the point! We’ve already eliminated daemons and Druids. What else would make a crop circle and destroy a small farm like this? And what could this thing even be?”
“Someone could have used it as a warning sign,” speculated Draco, poking the corpse with his wand. “A place like this could easily be a hideout, similar to the ones Snape used to stay in when he went on missions for the Dark Lord. I’m not sure who else would have used them though.”
“Maybe Death Eaters,” suggested Harry darkly.
“Perhaps. Most of them were either at…the Manor or Hogwarts. Only very few would know about these hideouts, and none of them have been caught yet. If Kingsley did send us to a place that hasn’t been used in over a year, I guarantee you there’s definitely something waiting for us.”
“Basically, we were led into a trap.”
“We’re well-known Aurors, Potter! People know we’re the ones the Ministry will assign to top cases! Assuming that the tip off Kingsley received was false, yes. This is probably a trap.”
“Fuck.”
“You’re telling me.”
They glanced at each other before turning to the fake corpse again. A chilly breeze blew by; making its gnarly hands sway side to side like it was alive. Harry and Draco jumped back, looking around wildly. They were still alone. Glancing down, however, Harry noticed he was gripping onto Draco’s arm tightly.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, moving away quickly, a flush spreading across his face. He exhaled deeply.
“Hands to yourself, Potter,” grumbled Draco agitatedly, rubbing his arm where Harry had grabbed him. “Thanks to you, now I’ll have a…” But he trailed off, frowning as he stared at Harry’s mouth.
Harry felt himself flush even more, so he looked away. “What?”
“Your breath,” noted Draco, his hands suddenly shaking. He rubbed them together and blew into them. “And my breath too.”
“Puffs of smoke,” stated Harry, noticing his own chilled breath. The air was also beginning to turn murky and moist, as he could feel it on his skin. “Looks like there’s fog.”
“Yeah, and it’s getting colder.”
Draco was right. Instantly, the ground began to freeze over, frost gradually covering the grass they were standing on. Harry watched as the corpse iced over too, and when he glanced over at the house, it looked like it had a light layer of snow on top.
“We need to get out! Now!” whispered Harry in a panicked voice, his heart racing faster and faster. “Someone left Dementors here to trap us in!”
“No! We can’t just leave!” replied Draco, sounding just as terrified. He reached for Harry’s wrist, tugging lightly. “Follow me, okay? We’ll back away from the house and wait for them in the open.”
“And what, throw them a Patronus or two? Are you mad?! They can come from any direction! They’re lured by emotion! They can feel us!”
“We don’t have a choice! They won’t let us leave unless we fight!”
“Our Patronuses might not be strong enough to bide us time to escape!” argued Harry, snatching his wrist back. He might have been able to deflect Dementors when he was thirteen, but he had been lucky then. After seeing so many people die, Harry wasn’t sure if he had the power to conjure such strong magic again. “Damn it! They might as well be the bloody cause of all the Muggle comas and disorders within Europe!”
“It’s a plausible lead,” agreed Draco shakily, getting his wand ready. He leaned in toward Harry’s ear. “Stand your guard. We’ll be fine. I know you’re strong enough to take them down. You’ve got the power of the Elder wand to help you.”
“Yeah, I-Draco! Watch out!”
“Harry! Behind you!”
It happened without warning.
Blurs of black swooped overhead from corn field, heading directly for them. Harry barely ducked down before rolling on the ground a few times and getting up. Draco did the same, flattening his body against the ground before standing up and sprinting away from the field. Harry had no time to follow as a Dementor cut him off, exposing its ugly mouth and grey rotting hands from its ragged cloak. Harry backed away, turning around to see more Dementors closing in on him. They were everywhere.
The effects were already taking a toll on him, his blood turning into ice. It took everything for Harry to ignore the shouts that were screaming in his mind. He tried to push away his fears…his mother’s screams, his last moment before Voldemort shot the Killing Curse at him. And then there was Draco, drowning in large bright flames.
He shook his head violently, trying to clear away the memories. Harry was going to get away from these fiends, no matter what it took.
“Reducto!” he called out, trying to stall them before running toward the house. His trainers crunched against the dead leaves on the ground as the Dementors glided after him.
It wasn’t until he got to the porch that there was an explosion. The door erupted open and the windows shattered. Dementors immediately burst out of the house. Harry ran even faster. Delving into the forest, he quickly destroyed the branches blocking his path.
“Expecto Patronum!” he shouted breathlessly, aiming the wisp of light that came out of his wand behind him. “Expecto Patronum!”
The Dementors were still after Harry though, draining his energy. They would eventually catch up, he knew. He couldn’t keep running forever.
“Make it a powerful memory, the happiest you can remember,” he told himself silently, reassuring himself with the words he had used back when he was teaching the DA in fifth year. “Allow it to fill you up… Just remember, your Patronus can only protect you as long as you stay focused…”
That was what he had to do: focus. If Harry could focus on something happy, something that made him feel alive…
But it was impossible. Once Harry stopped, he turned around, watching as the Dementors got closer and closer. He couldn’t fight them off, not when his visions kept filling up with everything he wanted to forget. Being locked up in his cupboard, crying as Uncle Vernon yelled at him through the door. Dudley and his friends, surrounding him as they repeatedly punched and kicked him until he fell over. Losing Sirius through the veil, seeing Dumbledore fall from the Astronomy Tower, staring at the lifeless faces of Remus, Fred and Tonks once the battle was over. It was like a never-ending nightmare.
Harry tried to block everything out, and that was when his vision changed.
He was in a dark alley in the pouring rain, waiting for Mulciber to leave from the back door of the apothecary. Mulciber had been tracked down in Liverpool, classified as a wanted Death Eater. Harry and Williamson were covering all the entrances of the shop, with the intentions of Stunning the bastard before tying him up and taking him back to the Ministry. It should have been a quick and easy mission.
When Harry crouched down next to the dumpster though, he heard rustling nearby.
“Williamson?” he asked out loud, frowning. “I thought we agreed to-”
“It’s just me, Potter,” whispered Draco, poking his head out from the other side of the dumpster. His hair was plastered to his head, and he looked like a drenched rat. “Came to back you up.”
“Malfoy! We’ve got this covered! You’re supposed to be with Williamson, guarding the front!”
“I know how Mulciber is. He’s mad. You have no idea what he’s capable of-”
The back door suddenly banged open, revealing a man with hooded robes carrying a rucksack.
“I should have known,” sneered Mulciber, twirling a flesh-coloured piece of string between his gritty fingers. “Potter and Malfoy. Here to arrest me, are you?”
“You son of a bitch!” snarled Draco, running forward to tackle the man. “Relashio!”
“Sectumsempra!” screamed Mulciber, aiming his wand at Draco. “You can thank Severus for that!”
Before Harry could do anything else, he watched in horror was blood began to spurt out of Draco’s chest. It was like a déjà vu, as Draco crumpled to the ground, bleeding profusely. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He needed to get to Draco, he needed to do something, anything…
“Stupefy!” yelled Harry without second thought, shooting the spell straight at Mulicber. “You piece of shit!”
Mulciber’s laugh froze into place as he too fell to the ground. It was a coincidence that Williamson rushed out of the back door then, ready to take Mulciber away.
“What the…”
“Get the bastard to Kingsley and fill out the paperwork. I’ll do mine later,” said Harry, his voice cracking as he knelt over Draco. He tried using his own robes to stop the bleeding from Draco’s chest, but nothing worked. “And get some help here too! He’s losing too much blood…”
“I’ll send for more Aurors to search the place, and contact St. Mungo’s to get Malfoy fixed up,” stated Williamson with a quick nod. “Harry, I-”
“Go! I’ll take care of him.”
With a pop, Williamson Apparated away, leaving Harry to cradle Draco in his arms as it rained even harder. It was the worse feeling ever, as Harry felt Draco’s body trembling against him. He didn’t know how to mend the wounds or fix this whole mess. It should have been him, not Draco…
“No! Stop thinking about that!” Harry cried out loud, ignoring the clenching feeling around his heart. “Think of something happy. Focus, Harry. Focus…”
And that’s what he did. He racked through his mind for something deep and powerful, a memory that he swore he would keep tucked away. It was a foolish memory, he knew, but it was also one that filled his heart with joy every time thought about it.
He had just returned to Grimmauld Place after celebrating his birthday at the Dragon’s Den nearing Paddington Station one hot July night. That had been exactly four months ago, his one eventful evening filled with spiked punch, a lot of beer, pranks and laughter. Hermione had forced Harry to take a cab home, stuffing a bunch of notes in the driver’s hand before slamming the door. All in all, it had been a good party. At the ripe age of twenty, as a young and handsome Auror, he couldn’t have been happier.
When he stumbled into the house and turned on the light, he saw Draco leaning casually against the banister of the stairs, waiting for him.
“About time you came back,” said Draco, chuckling. “I thought you drowned yourself in Firewhisky. Or worst of all, let the Weasleys kidnap you.”
“Ha ha,” slurred Harry, his face breaking into a goofy grin. “’s my birthday. Can do what I want. Nice of you to come, by the way. Wanker.”
“Hey! I told you I was on duty. My apologies that it took so long to stop the psychotic old man who was selling illegal potions made with Acromantula venom. Very serious business, mind you. He was trying to poison his customers.”
“Still. No excuse, Malfoy. That’s why you take a personal day. Besides, y’said you’d come.”
“I’m here now, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, you are.”
Before he knew it, Harry found himself being crushed into a tight embrace. All he could smell was the smoky scent of fire mixed with expensive cologne and something else that was just so Draco. Drunk or not, Harry knew that he never wanted to let go, so he hugged Draco back for what felt like eternity. It felt so nice to be held by strong arms and pressed up against such a warm chest…
“Happy birthday, Harry,” came a soft whisper that tickled his ear. “Missed you. It’s not the same without you by my side.”
That made Harry grin even more as he buried his face into the crook of Draco’s neck. This was what it felt like to be home. This was something he could want.
As long as Harry was still alive, it would always be something that he would want, even if he knew he couldn’t have it. Sweet desire flowed through his body as he memorised Draco’s features, from his pale skin and intense grey eyes to his soft blond hair and charming smile. This was something the Dementors couldn’t take away from him. He would cling onto it for dear life if he had to.
“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” Harry bellowed out, snapping his eyes open and pointing his wand up toward the sky.
He could feel his wand pulse as a bright light shot out of it. A corporeal stag appeared in thin air, running around him once before taking care of the Dementors. His Patronus was so bright that Harry had to shield his eyes, squinting as he watched his stag drive the foul creatures away. He knew he couldn’t let go just yet, so Harry willed himself to keep thinking about Draco, to keep holding onto the only happiness he really knew.
Once all the Dementors drifted away from the forest, Harry fell to his knees, sighing deeply. He paused, listening to the hoots of owls and the chirping of crickets. His stag galloped around him again before stopping in front of him, waiting for instructions. Harry bent forward, pressing the palms of his hands into the dirt for support. He took a shaky breath before speaking.
“Get Draco. See if he’s all right. Please.”
The stag took off instantly, vanishing right before his eyes. Harry took his glasses off, rubbing the dirty lenses on his now tattered robes. Even though he was alone now, he couldn’t help but feel numb. Not only had he almost lost control, but he had lost Draco while fending off the Dementors. Of course, Draco was perfectly capable of conjuring a rather powerful Patronus, but Harry also knew that Draco had never had to deal with so many at once. If Draco had slipped up…
Harry shook his head and jammed his glasses back on. Draco was fine. He was a qualified Auror who knew how to handle Dark magic and creatures. And Harry was going to prove it by searching for him.
The slight hint of light made him turn sharply, only to see his stag playfully chasing Draco’s glowing wolf. A good distance ahead, he noticed an exhausted shadow coming closer, one that he recognised all too well.
“Draco!” Harry called out with a raspy voice, waving a hand. “Thank Merlin!”
Draco paused, simply staring at him with awe. Then, he smiled. When he finally reached Harry, Draco scooped him off from the ground and hugged him tightly. “D-don’t ever run off like that again. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” replied Harry into Draco’s shoulder, grateful that they were both still alive. “I tried to go after you but then-”
“Harry, what happened?” started Draco with concern. You look like you’ve seen Death- ”
“That’s not funny,” interjected Harry, shooting a glare at Draco. Breaking away, he ran a trembling hand through his hair. “It was bad. I almost let them get me. I just…”
“They’re gone. I saw your Patronus from a distance. It was good enough to drive them all away.”
“I’m sure yours was just as powerful. I would have helped you if I-damn it. I was so worried-”
“Worried that I couldn’t take care of myself? I managed, just barely. Those things are vile, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, they are,” agree Harry, crossing his arms over his chest. He glanced down at his trainers, feeling slightly ashamed. “You would think that I could handle it, yeah? When I saw them, I was trying to get to you. But then there was just too many of them, so I ran for the house. Then, some came out of there...and I don’t even know. It was the worst thing ever, seeing people die and the battle all over again…”
“Damn it, Harry!” cursed Draco, reaching out a hand to squeeze Harry’s shoulder. “You should have called for me! I would have been there sooner to help you!”
“It’s fine,” Harry reassured him tightly. “It’s over. We’re fine.”
They watched the remnants of their Patronuses fade into nothing. Harry could feel Draco breathing against his cheek, his frantic breaths now slowing down into a calm rhythm.
He was feeling so torn right now. The Dementors had reopened a door that Harry swore he had locked away permanently. And if Draco even knew…the very thought made Harry feel sick.
Here was his long-time enemy, now his friend and Auror partner, standing in front of him, and there was no denying that everything had changed between them over the years. Harry had learned to care about Draco so much that he never realised what it meant. The mission to catch Mulciber had told him everything he needed to know when he had sat by Draco’s bedside every night, holding his hand and watching him sleep.
Without Draco, Harry felt incomplete. He needed him. But what if Draco didn’t need Harry?
It was a question Harry had quickly dismissed when Draco had woken up a few days later. But nothing could explain his temptation to grab Draco and pull him into a searing kiss. Or the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach every time those grey eyes fell upon him, studying him intently. Harry had tried to convince himself that he had been doing Draco a favour by watching his back. And when Draco had asked him what happened, Harry had simply told him the truth. He had been sliced open by Mulciber. That Harry had been there beside Draco until he was transported to St. Mungo’s. Draco had thanked him, of course, and Harry had smiled grimly.
Guilt had gnawed at him for weeks after the incident. Harry had been temporarily paired up with Williamson while Draco recovered. Williamson was a brilliant and experienced Auror, no doubt, but he wasn’t Draco. Almost two months later, Draco returned to work again. His sly sense of humour had not disappeared, which was slightly reassuring. But Harry knew something wasn’t quite right between them once they had resumed their partnership.
They still joked around whenever they went to work, but Draco seemed more affectionate than usual. He usually kept his distance whenever he talked to people, and Harry respected that.
It was with a brush of the arm or a hand on his back that made Harry pause once in a while, wondering if he was imagining things. Did Draco know his secret? Was this his way to get Harry to confess?
Or maybe Draco was just grateful that Harry had been there to save his life again.
Harry had no idea what think. Draco would always be a mystery to him, with his recent mischievous smiles and flirtatious winks. It seemed like there was something more behind these gestures, but perhaps that was wishful thinking. That was why Harry worked even harder, doing whatever it took to complete each of his missions. He needed something to distract his thoughts from wandering to Draco so much.
But his resolve had been slowly crumbling for some time now. The more Harry spent time with Draco, the harder it was to control his passion. He knew Draco didn’t care too much about his preferences. Hell, Draco had had the nerve to try to set Harry up with a bloke one night when they got too drunk at a Ministry function! If Draco could see into him, he never said anything about it. If Harry could protect his pride though, he would. It was better to have Draco around as a friend than not at all.
Harry could feel his lust and anxiety tugging at his heart again. He tucked his wand behind his ear, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. He could not, and would not, give in. Their mission was done, and all they had to do was fill out their paperwork. Then he could go home and sleep, or stop by George’s to catch the end of the Halloween party.
“I think we can call it a night,” suggested Harry. “We’ll have to look into this case more but-”
“Would you stop talking about work for once?” interjected Draco sharply, glowering at Harry. “That’s all you really do these days, don’t you? Burying yourself in all these cases. You hardly make any time to get drinks with me anymore.”
“I’d rather not get drunk and regret doing something stupid,” retorted Harry, feeling a hot anger curl up inside of him. “We’ve done that too many times.”
“You need to loosen up. You’re always so uptight, like someone’s going to jump you at any moment.”
“It can happen. I don’t trust anyone.”
“Do you trust me then?”
“What?”
“I asked if you trust me,” murmured Draco, taking Harry’s hand in his own. “You trust me enough to keep your secrets. What about with your life?”
“What are you trying to say?” asked Harry with bewilderment, mesmerised by Draco’s fingers caressing his palm.
“What are you trying to hide?” challenged Draco, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. He dropped Harry’s hand and used a finger to poke him in the chest. “You’ve been acting like a hot-headed kneazle for months now! You push me away every time I try to help you, and even your bloody friends are asking me what’s wrong with you!”
“So what?” snapped Harry, attempting to pull away from Draco, but to no avail. “Let go of me!”
“No! You’re angry and confused. It’s written all over your face. Just tell me what’s wrong. If it has to do with the Dementors…”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But-”
“Please, Draco. Not now. Don’t make me…”
“Okay. I won’t. We’ll talk later.”
Harry nodded before taking off and leading the way back to the farm. He could hear an exasperated sigh behind him as Draco followed. They walked in silence, scanning the area carefully once they arrived near the corn field again. He was about to Apparate away when a brisk hand grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.
“Harry, cut the bull-”
But Harry never heard what Draco was going to say when everything in sight disappeared. He could feel an arm linking through his, pulling him closer to a warm body as they were being sucked through a tight rubber tube for miles and miles. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath. Apparating wasn’t exactly pleasant, side-long or not.
Soon enough, the world opened up again as they were dumped into the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. Brushing their robes off, Harry and Draco stood up, only to be assaulted by chattering and the mob of Aurors and Ministry personnel with Kingsley amongst them.
“Well, boys. Anything at all?” asked Kingsley, slapping down his the stack of files on top of the front desk.
“Dementors,” Harry and Draco answered at the same time. They looked at each other briefly before breaking eye contact.
“What the bloody hell does that mean?” demanded Proudfoot, furrowing his brows.
“Thought they would have disappeared to somewhere else,” said Savage, scribbling notes down on parchment. “They haven’t been around in Britain since they left Azkaban…”
Then everyone began talking at once, voices echoing so loudly that Harry had to cringe. His fellow workers prodded him with questions he could barely hear. He turned to look at Draco, who was equally surrounded. Their eyes met yet again, and this time, Draco glared at him. His eyes looked angry and had an almost dangerous glint to them, the grey as dark as a storm.
“Draco!” Harry tried to call out, but his voice was instantly drowned out. “Draco!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” yelled Draco, pushing away his way through the throng of people. “Clear off already, would you? You lot are going to hear about everything eventually anyway, so take this somewhere else!”
Instantly, the atrium began to clear out as workers grumbled and went back to their offices. Kingsley was speaking with a few Aurors in low voices, probably planning to stay back to listen to Harry and Draco’s mission. Draco wasn’t having any of it, though. He sauntered toward Harry, his face looking murderous.
“If you’re done with listening to what I have to say, I think we’re through for the night,” he bit out. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Potter.”
With that, Draco Apparated away with an angry bang. Harry could only stare at the spot where Draco had just been standing. Glancing up, he saw Kingsley study him curiously.
“What was that about?”
“I’ll find out,” responded Harry with a sigh, rubbing his fingers at his temples. He headed toward the Floo network, reaching for a handful of powder from the bag hanging from the mantle.
“You do that,” replied Kingsley, giving him a sympathetic smile. “And you both can take a few days off. Don’t worry about getting you report in. Just make sure you get everything else sorted out.”
Harry nodded gratefully, making a mental note to send Kingsley a really expensive bottle of wine for being so generous. Taking a step closer to the raging fireplace, Harry threw the powder into the flames.
“Malfoy Manor!” he called out stepping in before disappearing.
***
The manor was dark and empty when Harry tumbled out of the fireplace. Coughing from the ashes, Harry stood up and brushed himself off. He glanced around, looking a sign of light from any of the closed rooms nearby. A small shadow caught his attention though as it crept closer and closer to him.
“Can Tippy help Mr. Potter?” it asked politely, holding a lit candle.
“Hello, Tippy,” greeted Harry, relieved to see it was just a house-elf. “You wouldn’t happen to know where Draco is, would you?”
“Master Draco has not been home since this morning. Draco told Tippy he is going to work and wouldn’t be back until late.”
“Shit,” Harry swore under his breath, smacking himself on the forehead. Taking a deep breath, he put the tip of his wand to his watch to check the time. “Well, I reckon it’s not exactly late right now. Do you have any idea where Draco would have gone if he doesn’t come back here right away?”
“Tippy thinks Master Draco goes to a secret place,” replied the house-elf with wide eyes. “It is the old mistress’ creation, and Master Draco goes there to think a lot.”
“You mean the garden?”
Tippy nodded quickly, making her ears flop. “Mr. Potter should be careful. Master Draco is not in a very good mood right now. Bad things happen when Master Draco is angry.”
“I know. I just need a word with him, and I’ll make sure he’s okay. And er, thank you,” he added.
Taking off, Harry ran through the manor until he reached the drawing room. He stopped immediately and stared through the French doors, spotting Draco sitting on the bench by the rose bushes. He was slouched over, his elbows resting on his knees as he gazed into the stone water fountain that was spraying water from the finger on a nude angel pointing toward the sky. He was probably brooding again.
Harry knew Draco did this when he was upset, but he had never been like this way about them. Sure, he would get cross about something stupid every so often, but this was completely different. He was angry with Harry. It almost broke Harry’s heart to see Draco like this, after they had done so well to overcome their differences and form a genuine friendship. But Harry had no idea what he had done, and that was what hurt him the most. He needed to fix things now, while he still could.
Pushing down the handle, Harry opened the door and stepped outside. The quiet creak was enough to grab Draco’s attention. Slowly raising his head, Draco looked at Harry with an unreadable expression before he focused back on the fountain again.
“What the hell do you want, Potter?” he spat out, glaring at his reflection in the water.
“Kingsley gave us a few days off,” said Harry, walking over to the bench. “Our reports aren’t due until the end of the week, too. Mind if I sit down?”
“I don’t care.”
“Alright then.”
Harry hesitantly sat down, making sure that there was a gap between him and Draco. They didn’t talk at all as they studied the water fountain, watching as the angel moved around and switched the direction of the water flow.
He remembered when the bloody statue had sprayed water at him when he wasn’t looking. That had been Harry’s first time in the garden, and Draco has laughed hysterically when he had seen Harry drenched from head to toe. Harry had pouted and refused to talk to Draco for a full five minutes until he gave into the laughter as Draco cracked some jokes.
That was how things were supposed to be between them. Not like this, where there was a quiet tension that was increasing by the moment. He snuck a glance at Draco, who was still glaring into the water.
“Well, you must have something else to say if you’re still here. Spit it out already.”
Harry could feel his heart speeding up again, the anxiety compressing within his chest. It was definitely harder to confront Draco like this when he had no idea how Draco was going to react. Still, they were friends, and they needed to resolve this, whatever it was.
“Okay then. Why exactly did you feel the need to leave so suddenly? You barely even said a word to me and then you took off. “
“Are you really that daft?”
“What are you on about?”
“Why couldn’t you just tell me what was wrong?” demanded Draco, pulling at his hair in frustration. “I know how badly the Dementors affect you. You probably saw every single one of your worst memories when you were out there earlier. You didn’t have to go through that alone.”
“I told you, it’s fine,” insisted Harry stubbornly. “That’s what Dementors do. They tend to bring the worst out of people.”
“And they affect you more than anyone else. You were as white as sheet when I found you in the forest. It had to have been pretty bad. I’m hoping it didn’t have to do anything with me.”
Harry tensed at that, refusing to meet the eyes that were trained upon him. The image of Draco bleeding all over the place made Harry shudder. He pulled his knees up, using his arms to hug them to his chest.
“Why do you want to know?” he inquired quietly.
“Because I care,” responded Draco hotly, moving closer to Harry on the bench. He rested a hand on his arm. “You’re really the only person who knows where I’m coming from. You were the one who reached out to me when no one else would. How can I possibly ignore that?”
“I guess that makes sense.”
“What do you mean you guess it makes sense? Of course it does! I don’t know what I would do without-”
Suddenly, Harry didn’t want to hear anymore of Draco’s rambling. A strong passion filled his heart again, knowing that he just was important to Draco as Draco was to him. That was all that really mattered. He was tired of hiding how he felt, and if now wasn’t the right moment to do something about it, then he didn’t what else was. Without a second thought, Harry grabbed Draco by his robes to kiss him.
A soft brush of the lips quickly transformed into a kiss of hunger. Harry let fervour take over as he pulled Draco closer, tangling his fingers through blond hair. Draco’s scent, Draco’s taste, it was just what he wanted. What surprised him, though, was that Draco was kissing him back. Harry couldn’t help but moan as Draco bit down on his bottom lip, swiping his tongue against it. And then he did it again. He heard Draco chuckle as he pressed their lips together harder and more viciously. Harry let his eyes flutter shut, enjoy the sensation of feeling so alive. And it felt bloody good to be snogged like this.
Had he really been an idiot for misinterpreting Draco’s advances all long? Was it possible that what he was looking for had been right in front of him the whole time? But those thoughts vanished as Draco plunged his tongue into Harry’s mouth, his hands wandering down Harry’s chest until they found buttons. He showered Harry’s face with kisses, briefly toying with his earlobe before dragging his tongue down to his neck. Then, he bit down on the flesh, making a great red mark that was instantly soothed.
Before he knew it, Harry found himself completely exposed, his shirt and robes piled onto the ground. Draco’s hands were all over him, caressing him in the most sensitive areas. Harry shivered, sucking in a breath when fingers pinched his nipples. That was when he knew that this fantasy was, indeed, real because he knew it was never going to stop.
“Draco…” began Harry, grasping for Draco’s wrist. “Look at me.”
Draco glanced up, his pupils so dilated that they almost looked black. He licked his lips, brushing his hair away from his face. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that to you, do you?”
“Well, no but-”
“And now I not only owe Pansy and Blaise ten Galleons each, but I’ll have to wear some a bloody pizza box the next time I see them. Which was supposed to be tonight at Pansy’s, actually.”
“Wait, you made bet on this?” inquired Harry with a frown.
“Not this,” answered Draco, leaning in to kiss Harry. “It was about me not giving in to you. I couldn’t help it though. I’ve been dropping hints like mad! I can’t believe you didn’t pick up on them sooner!”
“I suspected it, but I thought it was too good to be true,” admitted Harry, feeling sheepish. “I wasn’t exactly going to confess that I had feelings. I-I wasn’t sure where we stood. When I found you that awful night in the alley, you were covered in blood, Draco…”
“That was what you saw,” said Draco with realisation.
“Huh?”
“When the Dementors came for you. You were reliving the memory of Mulciber slicing me up, weren’t you? And you didn’t bother telling me.”
“It wasn’t something to bring up! I was too worried about you, seeing if you were okay-”
“And I was, once I saw that you were fine too. I thought I would be too late…like when the Dark Lord had presumed you were dead.”
“Was that your worst memory then?”
Draco flushed before looking away. “Seeing you lying so limply in Hagrid’s arms…I really thought it was impossible for you to be dead. The Dark Lord was intelligent, yes, but you had already found so many ways to delude him. We may not have been friends or allies then, but that never stopped me from hoping that you would do the right thing. That you would be the one to save us from everything evil.
“It’s why I always like lead when we go on missions. I don’t need something like that to happen again. I can’t lose you-”
“You’re not going to,” murmured Harry, resting his hands on Draco’s face. He pressed their foreheads together so that their noses were touching. “We’re not going to lose each other.”
“Good,” breathed Draco with a small smile. “Then you’ll just have to stick with me for tonight.”
“So now you’re using me as an excuse to miss Parkinson’s party then?”
“Only if you want to, Harry.”
Harry couldn’t think any other place he would rather be. Pressing his lips to Draco’s mouth, he grinned.
“Take me with you, Draco.”
Author: sugareey
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harry and Draco work together as Aurors. What should have been an ordinary mission ends up bringing back some memories Harry swore he buried away for good.
Word count: 7,419
Disclaimer: All character belong to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury/Scholastic, etc. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's note: For the awdt Halloween photo prompts of a moonlit corn field, a wooden house, a cemetery, a shadow against the wall, a bonfire, a scary creature on a stake and a pizza box for a costume. Thanks to cursedinsanity for betaing! Cheers and enjoy!
It was a clear night, with the full moon high in the sky, and the trees gently swaying in the breeze. Crows could be heard cawing before taking flight. Tonight was great for a party. But instead, they were outside in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by weeds, crops and a pile of dead logs as they approached the dark and empty house ahead.
Harry looked around cautiously, his wand out in front of him. It was never a good sign to see abandoned places like this one. It always brought back old memories, wherein he was too late to save one more person. Harry had already had his fair share of visiting cemeteries after attending so many funerals within the last couple of years.
And then there were still people in hiding. If someone like Slughorn could demolish a house and turn himself into a chair when Harry and Dumbledore had gone to find him, anything was possible. No chances could be taken, especially on a mission.
He nodded to Draco, who simply rolled his eyes and roughly pushed past him.
“Don’t you think you’re taking this assignment a bit seriously?” asked Draco, raising an eyebrow. He tossed his own wand up in the air before catching it gracefully. “It’s Halloween. I’m sure if there’s anyone here, it’s just a couple of idiot Muggles doing what they do for fun.”
“You mean smoking marijuana and get intoxicated? Not in an old, abandoned farm in Painswick,” replied Harry with irritation. “Look, Kingsley wouldn’t have sent us here if it was that simple. He said there was strange activity detected in this area. That means suspicious magic, which could mean Death Eaters. It’s worth checking out.”
“I highly doubt Death Eaters would hide in some old, rotten house,” drawled Draco haughtily. “They have better things to do, such as torturing Muggles instead of burning crops and animals in bonfires like the Celts.”
“Like you would know,” muttered Harry under his breath, waving his wand. “Lumos!”
“Nox!” hissed Draco, turning Harry’s light off and stomping on his foot. “You pillock! Are you trying to get us killed? Someone could have seen that!”
“Ow! That wasn’t called for! And I thought you said there’s no one here.”
“I never said that! I just don’t think-”
“Malfoy, take a look at that. Over there.”
They both stopped in their tracks to observe the field on their right. The corn crops that had once filled the field were now either flattened or burned in an unusual sequence. Harry walked closer, squinting to see more of the damaged plants under the moonlight.
“A crop circle?” questioned Draco with a frown, taking a few steps forward.
“Yeah, seems like it,” answered Harry, perplexed. He walked up to a blackened corn plant, using his fingers to pluck off a dead leaf. It instantly disintegrated into dust. “This was crafted pretty well. Definitely with magic.”
“Oh, really?”
“Shut it, you. Seriously, what do you think?”
“Seeing that this is a farm, crop circle it is.”
Harry worried his lip with his teeth. If there was a crop circle here, that would mean…
“It had to be either daemons or-”
“Druids,” finished Draco, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Halloween is Samhain for them. Spirits of the dead supposedly come back tonight, so that the Druids can make their prophecies.”
“But why here? Why in this bloody village instead of-”
“Druids won’t want to disperse themselves in London, Potter. It would be too obvious and the Ministry would have them by their heads.”
“I thought Druids had their own villages? They don’t attack or destroy anything unless they’re provoked. It still could be daemons.”
“Daemons? Why are you so sure that daemons caused this? They don’t dillydally, waiting for people to come by! Daemons need to find hosts before they can kill! They also lie and-”
“Been reading up on some folklore, have you?” teased Harry with a smug grin. He gently punched Draco in the arm, which earned him a slap on the wrist. “Hey, watch it! It’s not my fault you can’t even admit that I might be right for once.”
“Whatever,” dismissed Draco grumpily, shoving Harry with his shoulder. “Let’s go into the house to investigate.”
Harry followed Draco slowly and quietly, constantly looking around to make sure no one has tracked them down.
This was how they worked, now that they were Auror partners. Harry had never expected Draco to join the Auror department, or even work at the Ministry. Draco hadn’t even told him about passing the exam and training until he had showed up one morning in Kingsley’s office, waiting to be assigned to a partner. Harry had walked in to ask Kingsley about his latest case, and the sight of Draco made him drop his file, his jaw hanging wide open. Draco had simply snorted while Harry had stuck his tongue out. Kingsley had scolded them to stop acting like petulant children.
The rest was history.
At first, working with Draco was a bit…surreal. It wasn’t like they weren’t friends, they were. However, they always did their own thing. Draco had his family and Harry had his friends. Most of the time, Harry preferred to spend time alone, hoping to sort out the future ahead of him, now that he had one. It had once made sense to become an Auror, but he knew the real reason was to fill up his time. If he was honest with himself, he had no idea what he wanted in his life. With no girlfriend or family to worry about, Harry put all his time and effort into his work.
Whenever Draco sought out his company though, things were different. Harry wasn’t exactly a person who declined an offer to get a drink every so often. Besides, he liked talking to Draco. Draco was someone who knew him well, sometimes a bit too well.
A doubtful friendship had flourished between them after Harry returned the hawthorn wand to Draco during their eighth year, or what was a repeated seventh year for most. Draco had been friendless and indebted to him at the time, but that wasn’t why Harry extended his hand when they saw each other again. Everyone deserved a second chance. Harry had been given numerous chances (some undeserved), and if people could learn from their mistakes, that was what mattered.
Giving Draco another chance was probably the best thing that had ever happened. Harry learned to trust Draco with secrets he refused to share with anyone else, and Draco was able to do the same. When it came to Ministry cases, they ended up working so well together that everyone had to admit that they were the top two Aurors in Britain. A year into their jobs had earned them both Order of Merlin, first class, awards and a few other badges for their phenomenal work.
Draco liked to lead, and Harry watched their backs. It was natural for him, after fighting Voldemort and the Death Eaters for half of his life. This mission wasn’t any different. Harry couldn’t help but anticipate an attack. He gripped his wand tighter, taking a deep breath as the wooden house came closer into view.
He froze when he saw a corpse on a stake, falling behind as Draco continued walking to the porch of the house. The moonlight was enough to make its shadow resemble a tall, ghastly monster against the wall.
“Malfoy…”
“Potter, hurry up! We don’t have all night!”
“Malfoy,” Harry tried again, swallowing hard as he took in the blackened remains in front of him. “You should see this. Something’s definitely not right here.”
Draco sighed loudly, turning on his heel to see what Harry was looking at. As he got closer though, he froze too, staring at the corpse with wide eyes. “Merlin’s beard…”
Harry took some time to survey the tattered hood, hollowed face and long, decayed hands. “Looks like a Dementor,” he said. “Except Dementors are supposed to be immortal. Maybe it’s a really badly-made scarecrow.”
“Or this could be some poor excuse of a Halloween decoration. This thing is hideous. Even banshees and shtrigas have seen better days!”
“That’s not the point! We’ve already eliminated daemons and Druids. What else would make a crop circle and destroy a small farm like this? And what could this thing even be?”
“Someone could have used it as a warning sign,” speculated Draco, poking the corpse with his wand. “A place like this could easily be a hideout, similar to the ones Snape used to stay in when he went on missions for the Dark Lord. I’m not sure who else would have used them though.”
“Maybe Death Eaters,” suggested Harry darkly.
“Perhaps. Most of them were either at…the Manor or Hogwarts. Only very few would know about these hideouts, and none of them have been caught yet. If Kingsley did send us to a place that hasn’t been used in over a year, I guarantee you there’s definitely something waiting for us.”
“Basically, we were led into a trap.”
“We’re well-known Aurors, Potter! People know we’re the ones the Ministry will assign to top cases! Assuming that the tip off Kingsley received was false, yes. This is probably a trap.”
“Fuck.”
“You’re telling me.”
They glanced at each other before turning to the fake corpse again. A chilly breeze blew by; making its gnarly hands sway side to side like it was alive. Harry and Draco jumped back, looking around wildly. They were still alone. Glancing down, however, Harry noticed he was gripping onto Draco’s arm tightly.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, moving away quickly, a flush spreading across his face. He exhaled deeply.
“Hands to yourself, Potter,” grumbled Draco agitatedly, rubbing his arm where Harry had grabbed him. “Thanks to you, now I’ll have a…” But he trailed off, frowning as he stared at Harry’s mouth.
Harry felt himself flush even more, so he looked away. “What?”
“Your breath,” noted Draco, his hands suddenly shaking. He rubbed them together and blew into them. “And my breath too.”
“Puffs of smoke,” stated Harry, noticing his own chilled breath. The air was also beginning to turn murky and moist, as he could feel it on his skin. “Looks like there’s fog.”
“Yeah, and it’s getting colder.”
Draco was right. Instantly, the ground began to freeze over, frost gradually covering the grass they were standing on. Harry watched as the corpse iced over too, and when he glanced over at the house, it looked like it had a light layer of snow on top.
“We need to get out! Now!” whispered Harry in a panicked voice, his heart racing faster and faster. “Someone left Dementors here to trap us in!”
“No! We can’t just leave!” replied Draco, sounding just as terrified. He reached for Harry’s wrist, tugging lightly. “Follow me, okay? We’ll back away from the house and wait for them in the open.”
“And what, throw them a Patronus or two? Are you mad?! They can come from any direction! They’re lured by emotion! They can feel us!”
“We don’t have a choice! They won’t let us leave unless we fight!”
“Our Patronuses might not be strong enough to bide us time to escape!” argued Harry, snatching his wrist back. He might have been able to deflect Dementors when he was thirteen, but he had been lucky then. After seeing so many people die, Harry wasn’t sure if he had the power to conjure such strong magic again. “Damn it! They might as well be the bloody cause of all the Muggle comas and disorders within Europe!”
“It’s a plausible lead,” agreed Draco shakily, getting his wand ready. He leaned in toward Harry’s ear. “Stand your guard. We’ll be fine. I know you’re strong enough to take them down. You’ve got the power of the Elder wand to help you.”
“Yeah, I-Draco! Watch out!”
“Harry! Behind you!”
It happened without warning.
Blurs of black swooped overhead from corn field, heading directly for them. Harry barely ducked down before rolling on the ground a few times and getting up. Draco did the same, flattening his body against the ground before standing up and sprinting away from the field. Harry had no time to follow as a Dementor cut him off, exposing its ugly mouth and grey rotting hands from its ragged cloak. Harry backed away, turning around to see more Dementors closing in on him. They were everywhere.
The effects were already taking a toll on him, his blood turning into ice. It took everything for Harry to ignore the shouts that were screaming in his mind. He tried to push away his fears…his mother’s screams, his last moment before Voldemort shot the Killing Curse at him. And then there was Draco, drowning in large bright flames.
He shook his head violently, trying to clear away the memories. Harry was going to get away from these fiends, no matter what it took.
“Reducto!” he called out, trying to stall them before running toward the house. His trainers crunched against the dead leaves on the ground as the Dementors glided after him.
It wasn’t until he got to the porch that there was an explosion. The door erupted open and the windows shattered. Dementors immediately burst out of the house. Harry ran even faster. Delving into the forest, he quickly destroyed the branches blocking his path.
“Expecto Patronum!” he shouted breathlessly, aiming the wisp of light that came out of his wand behind him. “Expecto Patronum!”
The Dementors were still after Harry though, draining his energy. They would eventually catch up, he knew. He couldn’t keep running forever.
“Make it a powerful memory, the happiest you can remember,” he told himself silently, reassuring himself with the words he had used back when he was teaching the DA in fifth year. “Allow it to fill you up… Just remember, your Patronus can only protect you as long as you stay focused…”
That was what he had to do: focus. If Harry could focus on something happy, something that made him feel alive…
But it was impossible. Once Harry stopped, he turned around, watching as the Dementors got closer and closer. He couldn’t fight them off, not when his visions kept filling up with everything he wanted to forget. Being locked up in his cupboard, crying as Uncle Vernon yelled at him through the door. Dudley and his friends, surrounding him as they repeatedly punched and kicked him until he fell over. Losing Sirius through the veil, seeing Dumbledore fall from the Astronomy Tower, staring at the lifeless faces of Remus, Fred and Tonks once the battle was over. It was like a never-ending nightmare.
Harry tried to block everything out, and that was when his vision changed.
He was in a dark alley in the pouring rain, waiting for Mulciber to leave from the back door of the apothecary. Mulciber had been tracked down in Liverpool, classified as a wanted Death Eater. Harry and Williamson were covering all the entrances of the shop, with the intentions of Stunning the bastard before tying him up and taking him back to the Ministry. It should have been a quick and easy mission.
When Harry crouched down next to the dumpster though, he heard rustling nearby.
“Williamson?” he asked out loud, frowning. “I thought we agreed to-”
“It’s just me, Potter,” whispered Draco, poking his head out from the other side of the dumpster. His hair was plastered to his head, and he looked like a drenched rat. “Came to back you up.”
“Malfoy! We’ve got this covered! You’re supposed to be with Williamson, guarding the front!”
“I know how Mulciber is. He’s mad. You have no idea what he’s capable of-”
The back door suddenly banged open, revealing a man with hooded robes carrying a rucksack.
“I should have known,” sneered Mulciber, twirling a flesh-coloured piece of string between his gritty fingers. “Potter and Malfoy. Here to arrest me, are you?”
“You son of a bitch!” snarled Draco, running forward to tackle the man. “Relashio!”
“Sectumsempra!” screamed Mulciber, aiming his wand at Draco. “You can thank Severus for that!”
Before Harry could do anything else, he watched in horror was blood began to spurt out of Draco’s chest. It was like a déjà vu, as Draco crumpled to the ground, bleeding profusely. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He needed to get to Draco, he needed to do something, anything…
“Stupefy!” yelled Harry without second thought, shooting the spell straight at Mulicber. “You piece of shit!”
Mulciber’s laugh froze into place as he too fell to the ground. It was a coincidence that Williamson rushed out of the back door then, ready to take Mulciber away.
“What the…”
“Get the bastard to Kingsley and fill out the paperwork. I’ll do mine later,” said Harry, his voice cracking as he knelt over Draco. He tried using his own robes to stop the bleeding from Draco’s chest, but nothing worked. “And get some help here too! He’s losing too much blood…”
“I’ll send for more Aurors to search the place, and contact St. Mungo’s to get Malfoy fixed up,” stated Williamson with a quick nod. “Harry, I-”
“Go! I’ll take care of him.”
With a pop, Williamson Apparated away, leaving Harry to cradle Draco in his arms as it rained even harder. It was the worse feeling ever, as Harry felt Draco’s body trembling against him. He didn’t know how to mend the wounds or fix this whole mess. It should have been him, not Draco…
“No! Stop thinking about that!” Harry cried out loud, ignoring the clenching feeling around his heart. “Think of something happy. Focus, Harry. Focus…”
And that’s what he did. He racked through his mind for something deep and powerful, a memory that he swore he would keep tucked away. It was a foolish memory, he knew, but it was also one that filled his heart with joy every time thought about it.
He had just returned to Grimmauld Place after celebrating his birthday at the Dragon’s Den nearing Paddington Station one hot July night. That had been exactly four months ago, his one eventful evening filled with spiked punch, a lot of beer, pranks and laughter. Hermione had forced Harry to take a cab home, stuffing a bunch of notes in the driver’s hand before slamming the door. All in all, it had been a good party. At the ripe age of twenty, as a young and handsome Auror, he couldn’t have been happier.
When he stumbled into the house and turned on the light, he saw Draco leaning casually against the banister of the stairs, waiting for him.
“About time you came back,” said Draco, chuckling. “I thought you drowned yourself in Firewhisky. Or worst of all, let the Weasleys kidnap you.”
“Ha ha,” slurred Harry, his face breaking into a goofy grin. “’s my birthday. Can do what I want. Nice of you to come, by the way. Wanker.”
“Hey! I told you I was on duty. My apologies that it took so long to stop the psychotic old man who was selling illegal potions made with Acromantula venom. Very serious business, mind you. He was trying to poison his customers.”
“Still. No excuse, Malfoy. That’s why you take a personal day. Besides, y’said you’d come.”
“I’m here now, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, you are.”
Before he knew it, Harry found himself being crushed into a tight embrace. All he could smell was the smoky scent of fire mixed with expensive cologne and something else that was just so Draco. Drunk or not, Harry knew that he never wanted to let go, so he hugged Draco back for what felt like eternity. It felt so nice to be held by strong arms and pressed up against such a warm chest…
“Happy birthday, Harry,” came a soft whisper that tickled his ear. “Missed you. It’s not the same without you by my side.”
That made Harry grin even more as he buried his face into the crook of Draco’s neck. This was what it felt like to be home. This was something he could want.
As long as Harry was still alive, it would always be something that he would want, even if he knew he couldn’t have it. Sweet desire flowed through his body as he memorised Draco’s features, from his pale skin and intense grey eyes to his soft blond hair and charming smile. This was something the Dementors couldn’t take away from him. He would cling onto it for dear life if he had to.
“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” Harry bellowed out, snapping his eyes open and pointing his wand up toward the sky.
He could feel his wand pulse as a bright light shot out of it. A corporeal stag appeared in thin air, running around him once before taking care of the Dementors. His Patronus was so bright that Harry had to shield his eyes, squinting as he watched his stag drive the foul creatures away. He knew he couldn’t let go just yet, so Harry willed himself to keep thinking about Draco, to keep holding onto the only happiness he really knew.
Once all the Dementors drifted away from the forest, Harry fell to his knees, sighing deeply. He paused, listening to the hoots of owls and the chirping of crickets. His stag galloped around him again before stopping in front of him, waiting for instructions. Harry bent forward, pressing the palms of his hands into the dirt for support. He took a shaky breath before speaking.
“Get Draco. See if he’s all right. Please.”
The stag took off instantly, vanishing right before his eyes. Harry took his glasses off, rubbing the dirty lenses on his now tattered robes. Even though he was alone now, he couldn’t help but feel numb. Not only had he almost lost control, but he had lost Draco while fending off the Dementors. Of course, Draco was perfectly capable of conjuring a rather powerful Patronus, but Harry also knew that Draco had never had to deal with so many at once. If Draco had slipped up…
Harry shook his head and jammed his glasses back on. Draco was fine. He was a qualified Auror who knew how to handle Dark magic and creatures. And Harry was going to prove it by searching for him.
The slight hint of light made him turn sharply, only to see his stag playfully chasing Draco’s glowing wolf. A good distance ahead, he noticed an exhausted shadow coming closer, one that he recognised all too well.
“Draco!” Harry called out with a raspy voice, waving a hand. “Thank Merlin!”
Draco paused, simply staring at him with awe. Then, he smiled. When he finally reached Harry, Draco scooped him off from the ground and hugged him tightly. “D-don’t ever run off like that again. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” replied Harry into Draco’s shoulder, grateful that they were both still alive. “I tried to go after you but then-”
“Harry, what happened?” started Draco with concern. You look like you’ve seen Death- ”
“That’s not funny,” interjected Harry, shooting a glare at Draco. Breaking away, he ran a trembling hand through his hair. “It was bad. I almost let them get me. I just…”
“They’re gone. I saw your Patronus from a distance. It was good enough to drive them all away.”
“I’m sure yours was just as powerful. I would have helped you if I-damn it. I was so worried-”
“Worried that I couldn’t take care of myself? I managed, just barely. Those things are vile, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, they are,” agree Harry, crossing his arms over his chest. He glanced down at his trainers, feeling slightly ashamed. “You would think that I could handle it, yeah? When I saw them, I was trying to get to you. But then there was just too many of them, so I ran for the house. Then, some came out of there...and I don’t even know. It was the worst thing ever, seeing people die and the battle all over again…”
“Damn it, Harry!” cursed Draco, reaching out a hand to squeeze Harry’s shoulder. “You should have called for me! I would have been there sooner to help you!”
“It’s fine,” Harry reassured him tightly. “It’s over. We’re fine.”
They watched the remnants of their Patronuses fade into nothing. Harry could feel Draco breathing against his cheek, his frantic breaths now slowing down into a calm rhythm.
He was feeling so torn right now. The Dementors had reopened a door that Harry swore he had locked away permanently. And if Draco even knew…the very thought made Harry feel sick.
Here was his long-time enemy, now his friend and Auror partner, standing in front of him, and there was no denying that everything had changed between them over the years. Harry had learned to care about Draco so much that he never realised what it meant. The mission to catch Mulciber had told him everything he needed to know when he had sat by Draco’s bedside every night, holding his hand and watching him sleep.
Without Draco, Harry felt incomplete. He needed him. But what if Draco didn’t need Harry?
It was a question Harry had quickly dismissed when Draco had woken up a few days later. But nothing could explain his temptation to grab Draco and pull him into a searing kiss. Or the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach every time those grey eyes fell upon him, studying him intently. Harry had tried to convince himself that he had been doing Draco a favour by watching his back. And when Draco had asked him what happened, Harry had simply told him the truth. He had been sliced open by Mulciber. That Harry had been there beside Draco until he was transported to St. Mungo’s. Draco had thanked him, of course, and Harry had smiled grimly.
Guilt had gnawed at him for weeks after the incident. Harry had been temporarily paired up with Williamson while Draco recovered. Williamson was a brilliant and experienced Auror, no doubt, but he wasn’t Draco. Almost two months later, Draco returned to work again. His sly sense of humour had not disappeared, which was slightly reassuring. But Harry knew something wasn’t quite right between them once they had resumed their partnership.
They still joked around whenever they went to work, but Draco seemed more affectionate than usual. He usually kept his distance whenever he talked to people, and Harry respected that.
It was with a brush of the arm or a hand on his back that made Harry pause once in a while, wondering if he was imagining things. Did Draco know his secret? Was this his way to get Harry to confess?
Or maybe Draco was just grateful that Harry had been there to save his life again.
Harry had no idea what think. Draco would always be a mystery to him, with his recent mischievous smiles and flirtatious winks. It seemed like there was something more behind these gestures, but perhaps that was wishful thinking. That was why Harry worked even harder, doing whatever it took to complete each of his missions. He needed something to distract his thoughts from wandering to Draco so much.
But his resolve had been slowly crumbling for some time now. The more Harry spent time with Draco, the harder it was to control his passion. He knew Draco didn’t care too much about his preferences. Hell, Draco had had the nerve to try to set Harry up with a bloke one night when they got too drunk at a Ministry function! If Draco could see into him, he never said anything about it. If Harry could protect his pride though, he would. It was better to have Draco around as a friend than not at all.
Harry could feel his lust and anxiety tugging at his heart again. He tucked his wand behind his ear, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. He could not, and would not, give in. Their mission was done, and all they had to do was fill out their paperwork. Then he could go home and sleep, or stop by George’s to catch the end of the Halloween party.
“I think we can call it a night,” suggested Harry. “We’ll have to look into this case more but-”
“Would you stop talking about work for once?” interjected Draco sharply, glowering at Harry. “That’s all you really do these days, don’t you? Burying yourself in all these cases. You hardly make any time to get drinks with me anymore.”
“I’d rather not get drunk and regret doing something stupid,” retorted Harry, feeling a hot anger curl up inside of him. “We’ve done that too many times.”
“You need to loosen up. You’re always so uptight, like someone’s going to jump you at any moment.”
“It can happen. I don’t trust anyone.”
“Do you trust me then?”
“What?”
“I asked if you trust me,” murmured Draco, taking Harry’s hand in his own. “You trust me enough to keep your secrets. What about with your life?”
“What are you trying to say?” asked Harry with bewilderment, mesmerised by Draco’s fingers caressing his palm.
“What are you trying to hide?” challenged Draco, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. He dropped Harry’s hand and used a finger to poke him in the chest. “You’ve been acting like a hot-headed kneazle for months now! You push me away every time I try to help you, and even your bloody friends are asking me what’s wrong with you!”
“So what?” snapped Harry, attempting to pull away from Draco, but to no avail. “Let go of me!”
“No! You’re angry and confused. It’s written all over your face. Just tell me what’s wrong. If it has to do with the Dementors…”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But-”
“Please, Draco. Not now. Don’t make me…”
“Okay. I won’t. We’ll talk later.”
Harry nodded before taking off and leading the way back to the farm. He could hear an exasperated sigh behind him as Draco followed. They walked in silence, scanning the area carefully once they arrived near the corn field again. He was about to Apparate away when a brisk hand grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.
“Harry, cut the bull-”
But Harry never heard what Draco was going to say when everything in sight disappeared. He could feel an arm linking through his, pulling him closer to a warm body as they were being sucked through a tight rubber tube for miles and miles. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath. Apparating wasn’t exactly pleasant, side-long or not.
Soon enough, the world opened up again as they were dumped into the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. Brushing their robes off, Harry and Draco stood up, only to be assaulted by chattering and the mob of Aurors and Ministry personnel with Kingsley amongst them.
“Well, boys. Anything at all?” asked Kingsley, slapping down his the stack of files on top of the front desk.
“Dementors,” Harry and Draco answered at the same time. They looked at each other briefly before breaking eye contact.
“What the bloody hell does that mean?” demanded Proudfoot, furrowing his brows.
“Thought they would have disappeared to somewhere else,” said Savage, scribbling notes down on parchment. “They haven’t been around in Britain since they left Azkaban…”
Then everyone began talking at once, voices echoing so loudly that Harry had to cringe. His fellow workers prodded him with questions he could barely hear. He turned to look at Draco, who was equally surrounded. Their eyes met yet again, and this time, Draco glared at him. His eyes looked angry and had an almost dangerous glint to them, the grey as dark as a storm.
“Draco!” Harry tried to call out, but his voice was instantly drowned out. “Draco!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” yelled Draco, pushing away his way through the throng of people. “Clear off already, would you? You lot are going to hear about everything eventually anyway, so take this somewhere else!”
Instantly, the atrium began to clear out as workers grumbled and went back to their offices. Kingsley was speaking with a few Aurors in low voices, probably planning to stay back to listen to Harry and Draco’s mission. Draco wasn’t having any of it, though. He sauntered toward Harry, his face looking murderous.
“If you’re done with listening to what I have to say, I think we’re through for the night,” he bit out. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Potter.”
With that, Draco Apparated away with an angry bang. Harry could only stare at the spot where Draco had just been standing. Glancing up, he saw Kingsley study him curiously.
“What was that about?”
“I’ll find out,” responded Harry with a sigh, rubbing his fingers at his temples. He headed toward the Floo network, reaching for a handful of powder from the bag hanging from the mantle.
“You do that,” replied Kingsley, giving him a sympathetic smile. “And you both can take a few days off. Don’t worry about getting you report in. Just make sure you get everything else sorted out.”
Harry nodded gratefully, making a mental note to send Kingsley a really expensive bottle of wine for being so generous. Taking a step closer to the raging fireplace, Harry threw the powder into the flames.
“Malfoy Manor!” he called out stepping in before disappearing.
***
The manor was dark and empty when Harry tumbled out of the fireplace. Coughing from the ashes, Harry stood up and brushed himself off. He glanced around, looking a sign of light from any of the closed rooms nearby. A small shadow caught his attention though as it crept closer and closer to him.
“Can Tippy help Mr. Potter?” it asked politely, holding a lit candle.
“Hello, Tippy,” greeted Harry, relieved to see it was just a house-elf. “You wouldn’t happen to know where Draco is, would you?”
“Master Draco has not been home since this morning. Draco told Tippy he is going to work and wouldn’t be back until late.”
“Shit,” Harry swore under his breath, smacking himself on the forehead. Taking a deep breath, he put the tip of his wand to his watch to check the time. “Well, I reckon it’s not exactly late right now. Do you have any idea where Draco would have gone if he doesn’t come back here right away?”
“Tippy thinks Master Draco goes to a secret place,” replied the house-elf with wide eyes. “It is the old mistress’ creation, and Master Draco goes there to think a lot.”
“You mean the garden?”
Tippy nodded quickly, making her ears flop. “Mr. Potter should be careful. Master Draco is not in a very good mood right now. Bad things happen when Master Draco is angry.”
“I know. I just need a word with him, and I’ll make sure he’s okay. And er, thank you,” he added.
Taking off, Harry ran through the manor until he reached the drawing room. He stopped immediately and stared through the French doors, spotting Draco sitting on the bench by the rose bushes. He was slouched over, his elbows resting on his knees as he gazed into the stone water fountain that was spraying water from the finger on a nude angel pointing toward the sky. He was probably brooding again.
Harry knew Draco did this when he was upset, but he had never been like this way about them. Sure, he would get cross about something stupid every so often, but this was completely different. He was angry with Harry. It almost broke Harry’s heart to see Draco like this, after they had done so well to overcome their differences and form a genuine friendship. But Harry had no idea what he had done, and that was what hurt him the most. He needed to fix things now, while he still could.
Pushing down the handle, Harry opened the door and stepped outside. The quiet creak was enough to grab Draco’s attention. Slowly raising his head, Draco looked at Harry with an unreadable expression before he focused back on the fountain again.
“What the hell do you want, Potter?” he spat out, glaring at his reflection in the water.
“Kingsley gave us a few days off,” said Harry, walking over to the bench. “Our reports aren’t due until the end of the week, too. Mind if I sit down?”
“I don’t care.”
“Alright then.”
Harry hesitantly sat down, making sure that there was a gap between him and Draco. They didn’t talk at all as they studied the water fountain, watching as the angel moved around and switched the direction of the water flow.
He remembered when the bloody statue had sprayed water at him when he wasn’t looking. That had been Harry’s first time in the garden, and Draco has laughed hysterically when he had seen Harry drenched from head to toe. Harry had pouted and refused to talk to Draco for a full five minutes until he gave into the laughter as Draco cracked some jokes.
That was how things were supposed to be between them. Not like this, where there was a quiet tension that was increasing by the moment. He snuck a glance at Draco, who was still glaring into the water.
“Well, you must have something else to say if you’re still here. Spit it out already.”
Harry could feel his heart speeding up again, the anxiety compressing within his chest. It was definitely harder to confront Draco like this when he had no idea how Draco was going to react. Still, they were friends, and they needed to resolve this, whatever it was.
“Okay then. Why exactly did you feel the need to leave so suddenly? You barely even said a word to me and then you took off. “
“Are you really that daft?”
“What are you on about?”
“Why couldn’t you just tell me what was wrong?” demanded Draco, pulling at his hair in frustration. “I know how badly the Dementors affect you. You probably saw every single one of your worst memories when you were out there earlier. You didn’t have to go through that alone.”
“I told you, it’s fine,” insisted Harry stubbornly. “That’s what Dementors do. They tend to bring the worst out of people.”
“And they affect you more than anyone else. You were as white as sheet when I found you in the forest. It had to have been pretty bad. I’m hoping it didn’t have to do anything with me.”
Harry tensed at that, refusing to meet the eyes that were trained upon him. The image of Draco bleeding all over the place made Harry shudder. He pulled his knees up, using his arms to hug them to his chest.
“Why do you want to know?” he inquired quietly.
“Because I care,” responded Draco hotly, moving closer to Harry on the bench. He rested a hand on his arm. “You’re really the only person who knows where I’m coming from. You were the one who reached out to me when no one else would. How can I possibly ignore that?”
“I guess that makes sense.”
“What do you mean you guess it makes sense? Of course it does! I don’t know what I would do without-”
Suddenly, Harry didn’t want to hear anymore of Draco’s rambling. A strong passion filled his heart again, knowing that he just was important to Draco as Draco was to him. That was all that really mattered. He was tired of hiding how he felt, and if now wasn’t the right moment to do something about it, then he didn’t what else was. Without a second thought, Harry grabbed Draco by his robes to kiss him.
A soft brush of the lips quickly transformed into a kiss of hunger. Harry let fervour take over as he pulled Draco closer, tangling his fingers through blond hair. Draco’s scent, Draco’s taste, it was just what he wanted. What surprised him, though, was that Draco was kissing him back. Harry couldn’t help but moan as Draco bit down on his bottom lip, swiping his tongue against it. And then he did it again. He heard Draco chuckle as he pressed their lips together harder and more viciously. Harry let his eyes flutter shut, enjoy the sensation of feeling so alive. And it felt bloody good to be snogged like this.
Had he really been an idiot for misinterpreting Draco’s advances all long? Was it possible that what he was looking for had been right in front of him the whole time? But those thoughts vanished as Draco plunged his tongue into Harry’s mouth, his hands wandering down Harry’s chest until they found buttons. He showered Harry’s face with kisses, briefly toying with his earlobe before dragging his tongue down to his neck. Then, he bit down on the flesh, making a great red mark that was instantly soothed.
Before he knew it, Harry found himself completely exposed, his shirt and robes piled onto the ground. Draco’s hands were all over him, caressing him in the most sensitive areas. Harry shivered, sucking in a breath when fingers pinched his nipples. That was when he knew that this fantasy was, indeed, real because he knew it was never going to stop.
“Draco…” began Harry, grasping for Draco’s wrist. “Look at me.”
Draco glanced up, his pupils so dilated that they almost looked black. He licked his lips, brushing his hair away from his face. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that to you, do you?”
“Well, no but-”
“And now I not only owe Pansy and Blaise ten Galleons each, but I’ll have to wear some a bloody pizza box the next time I see them. Which was supposed to be tonight at Pansy’s, actually.”
“Wait, you made bet on this?” inquired Harry with a frown.
“Not this,” answered Draco, leaning in to kiss Harry. “It was about me not giving in to you. I couldn’t help it though. I’ve been dropping hints like mad! I can’t believe you didn’t pick up on them sooner!”
“I suspected it, but I thought it was too good to be true,” admitted Harry, feeling sheepish. “I wasn’t exactly going to confess that I had feelings. I-I wasn’t sure where we stood. When I found you that awful night in the alley, you were covered in blood, Draco…”
“That was what you saw,” said Draco with realisation.
“Huh?”
“When the Dementors came for you. You were reliving the memory of Mulciber slicing me up, weren’t you? And you didn’t bother telling me.”
“It wasn’t something to bring up! I was too worried about you, seeing if you were okay-”
“And I was, once I saw that you were fine too. I thought I would be too late…like when the Dark Lord had presumed you were dead.”
“Was that your worst memory then?”
Draco flushed before looking away. “Seeing you lying so limply in Hagrid’s arms…I really thought it was impossible for you to be dead. The Dark Lord was intelligent, yes, but you had already found so many ways to delude him. We may not have been friends or allies then, but that never stopped me from hoping that you would do the right thing. That you would be the one to save us from everything evil.
“It’s why I always like lead when we go on missions. I don’t need something like that to happen again. I can’t lose you-”
“You’re not going to,” murmured Harry, resting his hands on Draco’s face. He pressed their foreheads together so that their noses were touching. “We’re not going to lose each other.”
“Good,” breathed Draco with a small smile. “Then you’ll just have to stick with me for tonight.”
“So now you’re using me as an excuse to miss Parkinson’s party then?”
“Only if you want to, Harry.”
Harry couldn’t think any other place he would rather be. Pressing his lips to Draco’s mouth, he grinned.
“Take me with you, Draco.”