H/D Fic: Beyond the Pale (14/14)
Title: Beyond The Pale (14/14)
Author: m_jadis
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: H/D
Summary: Postwar. With less than 130 days left on his sentence, the velvet-lined walls of Draco Malfoy’s prison begin tumbling down, revealing closely guarded secrets and unspoken truths.
Disclaimer: Anything profitable belongs to J.K.
A/N: Spoilers for HBP. ConCrit appreciated!
Special thanks to l_morgan and imkalena for all of their kickass beta-ing. Any remaining errors are mine.
This story has been cross-posted shamelessly.
Well, we’re finally at the end of the road. Thanks to everyone who followed the story and who gave me feedback. I really appreciate it!
Previous Chapter
60 days
Draco started awake, unsure what had disturbed him. Discomfited, he jerked away from the body in his bed. Turning he squinted down at - Harry! His mind cleared, and he remembered the evening’s events. And the inquiry.
Not wanting to disturb Harry, Draco carefully slid out of bed. He stifled a groan as muscles he didn’t know he had protested the night’s abuse. He checked the clock: 6:15. They’d slept all night. Stomach growling, he stumbled to his wardrobe for a dressing gown.
The inquiry.
He sighed as he made his way to the toilet, and into the shower.
Arms snaked around his waist, and Draco nearly dropped the crystal pitcher. As it was, orange juice slopped all over the marble cabinet top.
“Good morning.” Harry nuzzled the nape of Draco’s neck. “You’re up earlier than I would have liked.”
Draco eyed the clock on the wall. It was 7:30. They’d be late for work if they didn’t get a move on.
“Court at eleven,” Harry said. His arms tightened, hand slipping under Draco’s dressing gown and into his pajama bottoms.
Sighing heavily, Draco sat the pitcher down and turned into Harry’s arms, returning the embrace. Goose bumps rose as Harry’s hand settled on his ass. “I’d really rather not - court, I mean. If it’s all the same.”
A low laugh sounded from Harry as he lightly rained kisses on Draco’s jaw. “Well, turning down an invitation to the Wizengamot is no easy feat.” He captured Draco’s mouth for long moments, tenderly laving his lower lip.
“And if we don’t go?” Draco pulled away slightly. “They’ll send the aurors?”
Harry’s other hand slid in Draco’s pajamas and he pulled their hips even closer. “Ah, that’s the beauty of it, they already have. I’m here to make sure you get to the church on time.”
Draco pulled back, puzzled. “Sorry? ‘The church on time’? What does that mean?”
Placing opened mouth kisses on Draco’s exposed neck, Harry chuckled. “I can see your Muggle education is still incomplete. It’s a line from Muggle lyrics. It means to make sure someone gets where they’re supposed to be on time.”
Hurt, Draco pushed himself back, settling some two feet away. “What are you on about? You think this is a time to joke? I’m going to be a laughing stock this time tomorrow! Besides - what’s a church have to do with it?”
“Draco?” Harry looked abashed. Silence stretched awkwardly. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be teasing you. I’m sorry.” Harry took a step forward. “It was thoughtless of me. It was a reference to a wedding…never mind.” He hung his head. “It’s just - as bad as things are, after last night, I feel…well, hopeful.”
Draco froze; shocked that Potter would so callously put aside his coming public humiliation, yet another part was intrigued by his demeanor, his tone.
Harry blushed, and looked down, stammering. He reached out his hand toward Draco, and then let it drop. “Draco - this is the first time in my life I’ve woken up with someone with whom I’ve wanted to keep waking up again. And again.”
Draco opened his mouth, and then closed it.
“Though technically not.” Harry rushed on. “Since you weren’t actually still there.”
“What?” Draco blinked. “What are you saying?”
“I - I - I don’t want this to be over.” Harry closed the distance between them. “I know we said we didn’t want to talk about the past last night. But I think we need to. If only so we can get on to the future.”
The future? “Isn’t this a little sudden, Potter?” Confused and off center, Draco could barely fathom what he was hearing.
“Sudden?” Harry volleyed back. “We’ve been living together for five years. We’ve known each other for over twelve years. I’d say it’s the longest courtship in history!”
The Wizengamot, 11:45am
“Mr. Draco Malfoy, currently in the custody of Mr. Harry Potter of London. The court asks your forgiveness in the negligence in which your welfare has been handled. We can assure you that Mr. Ronald Weasley will be dealt with appropriately. And a reprimand will be placed into Mr. Harry Potter’s file for his failure to protect you whilst in his custody.”
Draco blanched.
Harry’s back was ramrod straight, his face a mask.
“The court never intended that you would suffer physical abuse at the hands of one of the Ministry’s own aurors. After taking your testimony, and hearing the testimony of various medical experts, Ms. Hermione Granger, and Mr. Harry Potter, the court has decided to commute the last 61 days of your sentence due to the hardships you have endured these last several months.”
Draco felt his chin drop, and knew his mouth was hanging open.
The Chief Interrogator, a dumpy wizard with a large black mustache whom Draco couldn’t place, continued. “The Wizengamott has already dispatched aurors to remove the dampening spells from Mr. Potter’s residence, as well as those specific to you, Mr. Malfoy, here at the Ministry.” The wizard inclined his head to Harry. “Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy - you should report to the St. Mungo’s immediately to have the binding spell removed.”
Harry’s chin came up. “I don’t think so, sir.”
You could have heard a pin drop.
“I beg your pardon?” The Interrogator leaned forward, his eyes narrowing, gaze shifting between Harry and Draco.
Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Rita Skeeter on the edge of her seat, not breathing, Quick Quill quivering.
Harry moved closer to Draco, reaching out, putting his hand at the small of his back.
It was an outrageous show of possessiveness and Draco fought down mixed feelings of pride and annoyance. He would definitely be having a word with the smarmy git as soon as they were shot of this place.
Harry cleared his throat, eyes sweeping the courtroom. He paused, causing everyone in the stands to crane forward on the benches.
And I was called ‘dramatic’ in my youth, Draco thought. He bit down on his tongue to keep from stopping the idiot. This wasn’t necessary. He watched as every eye was riveted on the famous Harry Potter, waiting to see what his pronouncement would be. Didn’t Harry know or realize he risked becoming an outcast too?
“Sir - I speak for Mr. Draco Malfoy and myself when I say we’d like to file a petition to leave the binding spell in place. In fact, we’ll be making a move to strengthen it - permanently.”
A collective intake of shocked breath permeated Courtroom 10.
The Interrogator, sat back, flummoxed. “Sir - I don’t know if you know what you’re asking. Why would you request such a thing?”
Draco broke, “Harry - ”
Harry slid his arm completely around Draco now.
The murmurs in the stands rose to a fervor pitch. Searching the crowd, Draco locked onto Hermione Granger. Her hands were clasped in front of her face, and he thought he saw tears in her eyes as she nodded and smiled her encouragement.
“Silence! Silence!” The Interrogator beat the desk with his orb. “I will have silence!” He peered down at them. “Mr. Malfoy - is this what you want, as well?”
The sudden silence was eerie in its completeness.
Draco took a deep breath, and looked again to Hermione who was definitely brushing tears away, her face split into a grin. She was nodding her head in a manner reminiscent of Dobby. He then looked at Harry. The set of Harry’s jaw reminded him of the determined Gryffindor he’d once faced on the Quidditch pitch. He leaned in close. “Is this the church, Harry?”
The stands creaked as everyone leaned forward, straining to catch his words.
Harry blinked, his eyes suspiciously bright.
Draco turned his face up toward the Interrogator. “Yes. This is my choice.” He turned to the stands, enjoyed the feel of his hair whirling and thought fondly of Lucius for the first time in years as he pulled the most imperious tone he could summon from within. “It is our choice.”
It took ten minutes for the court to come back under control. “Order! Order! I will have order!” The Interrogator banged his orb uselessly. Peering down, he frowned. “I see your minds are made up.” His voice made plain his thoughts on the matter. “We have one last matter to attend to before council is adjourned.”
Draco raised his eyebrow, wondering what now.
The wizard withdrew a long narrow box from somewhere on his right. After opening it, he proffered the box to Draco.
His wand!
“I daresay,” the wizard began, “you’ll be pleased to get this back.”
Draco faltered just as his hand reached the box. Reaching inside, he withdrew the long slim implement. At his time of imprisonment, he’d thought being without it was the worst thing he’d ever endure. However, he now knew he was wrong.
Holding it now, he weighed the unfamiliar, familiar weight in his hand. Turning with a flourish, he presented it to Harry.
Startled, Harry hesitated, but then took it. Draco saw the question in his eyes.
Draco bowed slightly at the waist. “I’ve found that a wand may not be as necessary as we’ve been led to believe.” His voice rang out, steady, commanding. He flashed his trademark smirk, and then turned back to Harry. “Shall we go home?” He was pleased to see a blush creep over his lover.
Seeking Hermione’s eyes again, he shot her a reassuring smile. With no more effort that it would take to stir a cup of tea, Draco flicked his wrist. The heavy doors flew open; cracking into the ancient stone walls on either side. “Harry?”
Harry nodded and then bowed his head. Draco heard him laugh over the roar of the crowd as they walked out of the courtroom. Free. At last.
Epilogue
Author: m_jadis
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: H/D
Summary: Postwar. With less than 130 days left on his sentence, the velvet-lined walls of Draco Malfoy’s prison begin tumbling down, revealing closely guarded secrets and unspoken truths.
Disclaimer: Anything profitable belongs to J.K.
A/N: Spoilers for HBP. ConCrit appreciated!
Special thanks to l_morgan and imkalena for all of their kickass beta-ing. Any remaining errors are mine.
This story has been cross-posted shamelessly.
Well, we’re finally at the end of the road. Thanks to everyone who followed the story and who gave me feedback. I really appreciate it!
Previous Chapter
60 days
Draco started awake, unsure what had disturbed him. Discomfited, he jerked away from the body in his bed. Turning he squinted down at - Harry! His mind cleared, and he remembered the evening’s events. And the inquiry.
Not wanting to disturb Harry, Draco carefully slid out of bed. He stifled a groan as muscles he didn’t know he had protested the night’s abuse. He checked the clock: 6:15. They’d slept all night. Stomach growling, he stumbled to his wardrobe for a dressing gown.
The inquiry.
He sighed as he made his way to the toilet, and into the shower.
Arms snaked around his waist, and Draco nearly dropped the crystal pitcher. As it was, orange juice slopped all over the marble cabinet top.
“Good morning.” Harry nuzzled the nape of Draco’s neck. “You’re up earlier than I would have liked.”
Draco eyed the clock on the wall. It was 7:30. They’d be late for work if they didn’t get a move on.
“Court at eleven,” Harry said. His arms tightened, hand slipping under Draco’s dressing gown and into his pajama bottoms.
Sighing heavily, Draco sat the pitcher down and turned into Harry’s arms, returning the embrace. Goose bumps rose as Harry’s hand settled on his ass. “I’d really rather not - court, I mean. If it’s all the same.”
A low laugh sounded from Harry as he lightly rained kisses on Draco’s jaw. “Well, turning down an invitation to the Wizengamot is no easy feat.” He captured Draco’s mouth for long moments, tenderly laving his lower lip.
“And if we don’t go?” Draco pulled away slightly. “They’ll send the aurors?”
Harry’s other hand slid in Draco’s pajamas and he pulled their hips even closer. “Ah, that’s the beauty of it, they already have. I’m here to make sure you get to the church on time.”
Draco pulled back, puzzled. “Sorry? ‘The church on time’? What does that mean?”
Placing opened mouth kisses on Draco’s exposed neck, Harry chuckled. “I can see your Muggle education is still incomplete. It’s a line from Muggle lyrics. It means to make sure someone gets where they’re supposed to be on time.”
Hurt, Draco pushed himself back, settling some two feet away. “What are you on about? You think this is a time to joke? I’m going to be a laughing stock this time tomorrow! Besides - what’s a church have to do with it?”
“Draco?” Harry looked abashed. Silence stretched awkwardly. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be teasing you. I’m sorry.” Harry took a step forward. “It was thoughtless of me. It was a reference to a wedding…never mind.” He hung his head. “It’s just - as bad as things are, after last night, I feel…well, hopeful.”
Draco froze; shocked that Potter would so callously put aside his coming public humiliation, yet another part was intrigued by his demeanor, his tone.
Harry blushed, and looked down, stammering. He reached out his hand toward Draco, and then let it drop. “Draco - this is the first time in my life I’ve woken up with someone with whom I’ve wanted to keep waking up again. And again.”
Draco opened his mouth, and then closed it.
“Though technically not.” Harry rushed on. “Since you weren’t actually still there.”
“What?” Draco blinked. “What are you saying?”
“I - I - I don’t want this to be over.” Harry closed the distance between them. “I know we said we didn’t want to talk about the past last night. But I think we need to. If only so we can get on to the future.”
The future? “Isn’t this a little sudden, Potter?” Confused and off center, Draco could barely fathom what he was hearing.
“Sudden?” Harry volleyed back. “We’ve been living together for five years. We’ve known each other for over twelve years. I’d say it’s the longest courtship in history!”
The Wizengamot, 11:45am
“Mr. Draco Malfoy, currently in the custody of Mr. Harry Potter of London. The court asks your forgiveness in the negligence in which your welfare has been handled. We can assure you that Mr. Ronald Weasley will be dealt with appropriately. And a reprimand will be placed into Mr. Harry Potter’s file for his failure to protect you whilst in his custody.”
Draco blanched.
Harry’s back was ramrod straight, his face a mask.
“The court never intended that you would suffer physical abuse at the hands of one of the Ministry’s own aurors. After taking your testimony, and hearing the testimony of various medical experts, Ms. Hermione Granger, and Mr. Harry Potter, the court has decided to commute the last 61 days of your sentence due to the hardships you have endured these last several months.”
Draco felt his chin drop, and knew his mouth was hanging open.
The Chief Interrogator, a dumpy wizard with a large black mustache whom Draco couldn’t place, continued. “The Wizengamott has already dispatched aurors to remove the dampening spells from Mr. Potter’s residence, as well as those specific to you, Mr. Malfoy, here at the Ministry.” The wizard inclined his head to Harry. “Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy - you should report to the St. Mungo’s immediately to have the binding spell removed.”
Harry’s chin came up. “I don’t think so, sir.”
You could have heard a pin drop.
“I beg your pardon?” The Interrogator leaned forward, his eyes narrowing, gaze shifting between Harry and Draco.
Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Rita Skeeter on the edge of her seat, not breathing, Quick Quill quivering.
Harry moved closer to Draco, reaching out, putting his hand at the small of his back.
It was an outrageous show of possessiveness and Draco fought down mixed feelings of pride and annoyance. He would definitely be having a word with the smarmy git as soon as they were shot of this place.
Harry cleared his throat, eyes sweeping the courtroom. He paused, causing everyone in the stands to crane forward on the benches.
And I was called ‘dramatic’ in my youth, Draco thought. He bit down on his tongue to keep from stopping the idiot. This wasn’t necessary. He watched as every eye was riveted on the famous Harry Potter, waiting to see what his pronouncement would be. Didn’t Harry know or realize he risked becoming an outcast too?
“Sir - I speak for Mr. Draco Malfoy and myself when I say we’d like to file a petition to leave the binding spell in place. In fact, we’ll be making a move to strengthen it - permanently.”
A collective intake of shocked breath permeated Courtroom 10.
The Interrogator, sat back, flummoxed. “Sir - I don’t know if you know what you’re asking. Why would you request such a thing?”
Draco broke, “Harry - ”
Harry slid his arm completely around Draco now.
The murmurs in the stands rose to a fervor pitch. Searching the crowd, Draco locked onto Hermione Granger. Her hands were clasped in front of her face, and he thought he saw tears in her eyes as she nodded and smiled her encouragement.
“Silence! Silence!” The Interrogator beat the desk with his orb. “I will have silence!” He peered down at them. “Mr. Malfoy - is this what you want, as well?”
The sudden silence was eerie in its completeness.
Draco took a deep breath, and looked again to Hermione who was definitely brushing tears away, her face split into a grin. She was nodding her head in a manner reminiscent of Dobby. He then looked at Harry. The set of Harry’s jaw reminded him of the determined Gryffindor he’d once faced on the Quidditch pitch. He leaned in close. “Is this the church, Harry?”
The stands creaked as everyone leaned forward, straining to catch his words.
Harry blinked, his eyes suspiciously bright.
Draco turned his face up toward the Interrogator. “Yes. This is my choice.” He turned to the stands, enjoyed the feel of his hair whirling and thought fondly of Lucius for the first time in years as he pulled the most imperious tone he could summon from within. “It is our choice.”
It took ten minutes for the court to come back under control. “Order! Order! I will have order!” The Interrogator banged his orb uselessly. Peering down, he frowned. “I see your minds are made up.” His voice made plain his thoughts on the matter. “We have one last matter to attend to before council is adjourned.”
Draco raised his eyebrow, wondering what now.
The wizard withdrew a long narrow box from somewhere on his right. After opening it, he proffered the box to Draco.
His wand!
“I daresay,” the wizard began, “you’ll be pleased to get this back.”
Draco faltered just as his hand reached the box. Reaching inside, he withdrew the long slim implement. At his time of imprisonment, he’d thought being without it was the worst thing he’d ever endure. However, he now knew he was wrong.
Holding it now, he weighed the unfamiliar, familiar weight in his hand. Turning with a flourish, he presented it to Harry.
Startled, Harry hesitated, but then took it. Draco saw the question in his eyes.
Draco bowed slightly at the waist. “I’ve found that a wand may not be as necessary as we’ve been led to believe.” His voice rang out, steady, commanding. He flashed his trademark smirk, and then turned back to Harry. “Shall we go home?” He was pleased to see a blush creep over his lover.
Seeking Hermione’s eyes again, he shot her a reassuring smile. With no more effort that it would take to stir a cup of tea, Draco flicked his wrist. The heavy doors flew open; cracking into the ancient stone walls on either side. “Harry?”
Harry nodded and then bowed his head. Draco heard him laugh over the roar of the crowd as they walked out of the courtroom. Free. At last.
Epilogue