Closed: Interrogations with Draco Malfoy
He'd been up half the night, strung out in his office, pushing through paperwork and working on any new leads he could find. The news of Dennis Creevey had hit Harry hard. He remembered just how bloody annoying he was while they were in school but he'd always been fond of him. Both the Creevey brothers. Now, he had to ring Colin up and explain to
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It was late.
Dark.
Candles lit the organic shape of his private baths as burning frankincense wafted through the dim candlelight, creating a subtle musk.
Draco had been taking some time to unwind, gently kicking his feet below the hot, bubbling water.
With his dry hand, he flicked his wand to turn the page of the floating book, reading from the olive tome he had been discussing with Mandy.
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He hiked a smile briefly at the mention of Malfoy's financial troubles before clearing his throat and looking back to him.
"Ah, no, that can wait until morning," Harry said rocking back on his heels. "You've been a considerably polite host, Malfoy. I'll leave you to your... bathing."
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"Do you frequently do business off hours like this?"
A predatory glance as his gaze bore down into the slightly shorter man, his thumb skirting some dust from the coat.
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"Business hours? What a kind thought-"
He gingerly went to remove Malfoy's grasp from the lapel of his jacket.
"When we've got someone murderin' innocent people, setting them on fire- there aren't any business hours."
He adjusted his jacket, tucking his quill and pad into the inner pocket for stepping past Malfoy.
"Should I let myself out? Or would you like to escort me?"
A wicked grin tugged at his lips.
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"All that trouble for a warrant, only to share some words and go? What is the rush?" He hooked a thumb into his towel, the textile slipping dangerously further.
"Its such a pity you wont be staying, me and all of those dead bodies were going to enjoy the rest of my bath together. Wont you join us?"
Draco brushed those same fingers against his towel as if to rub off the cooties.
Saying nothing, he strode in front of Harry towards the door, once again grasping the fine knob and giving it a turn.
"Enjoy your evening, Auror Potter."
He felt as though, in sum, he had won this round.
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"I always had an inkling this obsession you've got with me was sexual, Malfoy."
Harry walked directly past Malfoy, taking a moment to clap his hand on his shoulder briefly before standing in the open doorway of the Manor. He had gotten what he needed - and managed to rile him up in the process. He glanced out into the night sky, raising his hand as if to let everyone know he was finished.
It was then that he noticed Malfoy's front yard. Huge, deep-looking holes were dug up, sporadically throughout the grass. Was that? He let out a slight cough before registering it was, in fact, a gnome. He furrowed his brows before turning.
"Looks like there's been a bit of an accident-" Harry commented. "It must be truly hard to get good help these days.."
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The hand still hovering at Harry's lip floated down to his firm broad chest.
Draco himself still rode, every morning, always catching the Snitch before Harry did, every morning, without fail; their school days at his curtails.
He let that hand slide down, fingertips still brushing against Harry as they ended at his belt buckle.
He made no attempt to contest the facts of his own desire, deflecting as he usually would.
"So that you might sleep at night, what sort of obsession do you call your own?"
Draco withdrew both hands and placed them on his naked hips, the towel just below them now, showcasing the deep V of his lower stomach as the stubble of his buzzed blonde hair peeked over the top of the sumptuous fabric, just barely.
"Will you indulge me yet, as to the honest reason why you have come for me in the hour of the Wolf? Or, I have the bath still running upstairs. Would you prefer to show me?"
"Indeed, in a plethora of professions," looking pointedly at Harry ( ... )
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He looked at Malfoy anxiously.
"My obsessions are my own business," he told him, lifting his chin just slightly. Then, he found his footing again, feeling brazen suddenly. "A bath, you say? I do have this odd crick in my neck- the hot water could... do me good-"The smell was nearly impossible to ignore and so Harry brought his sleeve to his nose, trying to mask the smell as best he could. His eyes traveled back toward the yard. He frowned - he'd helped the Weasleys degnome countless times and yet killing them was never in the cards ( ... )
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"The target practice is good for my Seeking, besides."
At the same time as he was desperate to change the subject, he had a wild idea!
"We should have a competition sometime, Potter. We'll put a team together and use my Pitch! Name a day, and it's yours."
He himself seemed much more personable at this mention. He didn't know what Harry had been up to since becoming an Auror, but Draco did ride, every single morning, with the memory of Potter on his curtails.
The adrenaline of the real thing would be much to his liking.
And winning would be, even moreso.
Draco could solemnly swear he was up to no good as he cracked a smile, tilting his head to receive Harry's answer to his challenge.
All the while reminding himself: keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.
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"You're kidding me-"
He's come to ask for Malfoy's alibi for a bloody string of murders and here he is asking for a Quidditch play-off. He rubbed at the back of his neck, his brow furrowing as he realized that Malfoy might actually be serious.
"I- uh-" Harry shrugged. "You know what - if I find out you're not burning people alive, I might take you up on that."
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He should invite everyone.
Their entire generation should be there.
It will be bigger than the World Cup!
The stars of victory swirled in his vision, and he kindly spoke,
"Very good then, Potter. Again, enjoy your night."
He supplied that familiar knowing smile.
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Giving Malfoy a brief once over, he knew that he'd still probably win - even being completely out of practice.
There went that ego.
"Cheers, Malfoy-" he said, nodding his head.
And with that, he left.
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"Its been a long day, hasn't it? Toiling over the Burning Man case, trying to take care of the entire Wizarding world."
He slipped a hand into Harry's palm, closing all of his fingers around the thumb there.
He sidealong apparated Harry into the bath chamber. It was still potently perfumed by incense, the candles burning low.
"But who is there to take care of you?"
He slowly released Harry's thumb, their fingers brushing with electricity.
He turned, taking a few steps towards the candles so he could refresh them.
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He glanced around, taking in the sight of the candles. A spice filled the room he couldn't place but it was heavenly.
He looked back to Malfoy.
"You?"
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"Incendio,," he breathed, having withdrawn his wand from the towel about his waist.
That black towel was too loose now without the added wood, and it fell from his hips with a soft rumpling sound upon the cold stone floor.
Draco glanced behind him, and where shame should have touched his features, there was an unabashed expression of humour there, instead.
He slowly walked toward another candle, giving Harry a front seat to long toned legs topped by two perfect globes that also matched his incredible marble bath.
"Those hard, long hours must be so exhausting, everyone up your arse about the Burning Man. Incendio," the spark crackled against the cold wick as it lit aflame, igniting instantly.
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The candles filling the space were a nice touch, he had to admit. The lighting was soft and warm. He rubbed at his shoulder, pulling at his coat and shrugging it off his broad shoulders. An hour or two basking in the warm water could do him some good. That was all.
Just a nice, innocent bath.
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