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Work Header
Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning:
No Archive Warnings Apply
Category:
Multi
Fandom:
Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationships:
Draco Malfoy/Harry PotterHarry/Ginnypast Draco/Astoria
Characters:
Draco MalfoyHarry PotterHermione GrangerRon WeasleyAstoria GreengrassGinny Weasley
Additional Tags:
MysteryDramaFriendshipSlow BurnRomance
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:2014-09-30Completed:2014-12-25Words:74885Chapters:17/17Comments:407Kudos:2311Bookmarks:912
Running on Air
eleventy7
Summary:
Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.
Chapter 1
Chapter Text
The colour of the bones almost matches the summer-scorched grass pushing between the vertebrae. The ribs bend like stalks of wheat, permanently bowing to an invisible wind; the finger knuckles look like sun-bleached pebbles.
“Five or six years.”
The man offers the statement without raising his eyes from the skeleton. Harry shifts restlessly under the high sun. It’s too hot, he thinks, especially this late in the summer. His robes hang off him, heavy and damp with perspiration, unmoved by the slight breeze. The other man — small and bespectacled, with a neatly cropped salt-and-pepper beard — gives no indication of being affected by the heat. He wears the ivory-coloured robes of the post-mortem division and somehow, the pale colour gives the illusion of coolness and shade.
A camera clicks; the sound of the shutter echoes across the field. Both Harry and the other man turn. The photographer — a tall, broad-shouldered witch with an aristocratic nose — gives them a look.
“I’ve got another job at three, Butterworth,” she says. The man — Butterworth — gives her an irritated look.
“I’ll perform the spells, then we’ll be out of your way,” he says tersely. The woman waits, hand hovering impatiently over the shutter release button.
Butterworth performs the spell. Numbers waver above the skeleton, as if caught in a shimmering heat-wave. “Five years,” he says, a note of satisfaction in his voice. He likes being right.
Harry shifts from one foot to another. The hair at the nape of his neck is curling damply as perspiration beads across his skin.
“Month?” Harry asks, wishing he could leave already, retreat back to the soothingly cool halls of the Ministry. Butterworth flicks his wand.
“Between January and April.”
Harry sighs. Butterworth bristles.
“The longer they’ve been dead, the less accurate the spells are. I can’t give you anything better than that.”
Still...it’s close enough to suit Harry's current case.
“Could be Fenwick,” he says. “He went missing March 2001. Found his broom not far from here. Might be a match.” He doesn’t get his hopes up, though; too many failed matches have taught him caution.
“We’ll get a sample and take it back to the department,” Butterworth says. “Let you know in a week.”
“That’s short.” Harry's surprised. Cold cases rarely get priority.
