The evening that Triple-F had given Harry his list of names and the false trail with the wand, Draco stood behind Harry while he was sitting at the table in the kitchen and rubbed his shoulders. Harry felt the knots releasing and the tension easing under the expert guidance of Draco's long, slender fingers. The table vibrated slightly under his touch when his thoughts strayed to what it might feel like if he were shirtless, and lying on his bed, and if Draco was straddling him, sitting on his thighs, as he worked Harry's bare back, with oily, slick fingers, that started to creep lower. Harry realised he was taking his thoughts of Draco in a direction he was desperately trying to avoid. He groaned aloud in disappointment at his own weakness and banged his head on the table. Luckily it coincided with Draco working on a particularly tense muscle. Harry tried to think of anything other than a semi-naked Draco straddling him (he never questioned why Draco was in a state of undress in his imaginary scenario). It didn't work. He started to find that he was tensing up rather than relaxing. They both leapt in fright when the table legs collapsed and the table-top crashed to the floor with a resounding bang which brought Kreacher and Ruby running into the kitchen as crockery and butterbeer bottles smashed with aplomb.
Kreacher actually had the audacity to smirk.
'Master Harry is being very tense tonight? Perhaps sir is having too much tension on his mind and is needing to relieve it?'
Kreacher looked from Harry to Draco and back again. Harry wasn't entirely sure whether he saw him wink, however, he hurriedly excused himself and went for a long cool shower.
'What does it feel like?' Draco asked a few days later, a familiar blush creeping across his face.
Harry looked at him sharply, silently watching the blush deepen to a brighter red. 'Do we have to discuss this?'
'I just...'
'Have you ever had your big toe sucked?' he said sharply.
Draco scrunched up his nose in disgust, 'NO!'
'Don't knock it until you've tried it.'
'I...' He glanced at his foot, then at Harry.
'No!' said Harry abruptly, second guessing Draco's silent not-request but definite thought.
They both swallowed uncomfortably and stared at Draco's feet. A small crack started to creep through the plasterwork of the ceiling, starting directly above Harry's head.
'Pansy or Astoria must have given you a blowjob...' Harry said quietly, still looking at Draco's foot.
'Yes...' Draco shut his eyes tight. The conversation was so humilating and he could only blame himself.
'Sort of like that, only more... more... everything... Like silk, but tight, smooth, enveloping, and when the prostate is... Merlin... I'm going for a run.' Harry couldn't get out of the room quick enough and Draco heard a succession of door handles hitting the floor along the corridor upstairs.
He didn't see Harry for two days after that conversation.
Draco didn't ask any questions again. But he did find a Muggle shop in Soho and he steeled himself to push open the intimidatingly closed black door between the blacked-out windows underneath the light-up neon sign which said 'Adult Shop'. He felt like a twelve-year-old trying to buy alcohol in a pub. He ended up in the shop for quite a long time but the shop owner was pleasantly understanding. He came home with some 'literature', some lube, and a toy, just a small one. Some of the larger ones were extremely petrifying and the shopkeeper steered him well away from those saying he wasn't in that sort of league. He kept his purchases in the black plastic bag he'd brought them home in and hid the bag at the back of his wardrobe. He didn't open it for several weeks; it was enough of a thrill knowing they were there, waiting for him. It wasn't until Harry and Teddy had gone away for the night to visit Dromeda that he extracted the bag and tipped the contents onto his bed after his evening shower. It felt deliciously illicit and exciting as he flicked through the magazines, looking at images of men together and reading the rubbish stories which were really just an excuse to string the lewd images together. Draco made a very pleasant discovery that night.
The next week was Draco's twenty-second birthday and he'd taken the morning off work as a treat. He placed the letter from his mother to one side. He knew he needed to speak to her, probably sit down and have a heart-to-heart with her but that would mean going to France and being captured in her company for several days. And she was so good at adding the pressure about getting married and producing a Malfoy heir. Sometimes she was as bad as his father. And now, here with Harry, for the first time in his life (not including Voldemort's death and his father's execution), he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He understood what had always been sitting at odds within him. He felt, he realised, happy.
Harry had taken the morning of Draco's birthday off work and over breakfast he asked for Draco's advice. He saw Harry wink at Teddy but he pretended he didn't see.
'It's the attic rooms, will you come up.'
He knew Harry had been up to something in the two empty rooms, there had been owls coming and going, and some banging and scraping of boxes and Hermione had been over a couple of times and they'd both disappeared up there. Draco tried to feign that he wasn't jealous especially as he kept wondering if there was something more than friendship between the two of them.
He followed Harry up to the top of the house. Teddy held his hand; the boy looked excited.
'I can't quite get the layout comfortable and I've been trying to decorate but can't quite get the colour-scheme right' Harry said.
'Well,' Draco drawled, disappointed because he had hoped that Harry had been hiding a birthday present up in one of the rooms. 'If I were you, I'd put the desk under the window, does it fit in the alcove?'
'I can resize it,' and with a wandless flick of his wrist the rather nice antique oak desk slid into the alcove perfectly.
Draco tried to privately profess that he was perfectly unaffected by Harry's wandless magic after nearly two months but, in truth, it just seemed to draw goosebumps over his skin more sensuously each time. It was, quite possibly, driving him mad.
'Should the bookshelves go over there or would the armchair be better in that corner?' Harry asked, a slight smirk showing in his eyes as he leant nonchalantly against the doorframe. He scrubbed a hand through that messy hair that Draco was itching to tease his fingers through. Only to style properly, he convinced himself.
Teddy was sitting in the deep leather armchair which looked old and worn but perfectly soft and comfortable and inviting. He had his hands on the armrests and his feet stuck out straight in front of him because his legs were too short to bend over the edge and he was watching carefully with his mouth tightly shut as if to prevent himself accidently blurting something out.
'The bookshelves should line that wall,' Draco said, bemused.
Harry obliged, causing another shiver to course through Draco's body.
'And the colours?'
'Oh,' Draco said. 'Well, I suppose a darkish colour to make the space intimate and warm. I like the dark wood shutters and floor and the white woodwork. Of course, if it was my space, I'd chose a mushroomy grey and a green accent wall and rug too... so it's nearly Slytherin colours but subtler.'
'...Hmmm,' Draco said at Harry's changes. 'Maybe the green should be a bit more turquoisey... yes.'
'Yes,' said Harry. 'I like it too. What do you think, Teddy?'
Teddy nodded in a very grown-up way, pursing his lips. 'Mhem, yes,' he mused. 'I think it's very suitable.'
'Haven't you got a study downstairs, Potter?'
'Yep. Do me a favour, help me by unpacking these.' He floated some boxes and packages through from the other room. 'I think I'll just follow the colour scheme into there too.'
But Harry didn't move, he continued to lean against the doorframe, watching Draco who knelt on the floor. Teddy watched too; a grin barely contained on his face.
Draco carefully undid the string around the first package of books wrapped in brown paper, he didn't look, just started stacking them on the shelves. It wasn't until he unwrapped The Monster Book of Monsters that he started to pay attention. Well, you couldn't ignore that book, even if you tried.
'Harry?' he said slowly. 'Why have you got this book? And The Book on Nogtails... Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland... and The Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology...' He started to glance through all the books he'd already unpacked. Every single one was on animal studies, veterinary studies and animal ailments or psychology... every single one was from his collection he'd lost in the fire... 'Harry?' he repeated.
With a nod from Harry, Teddy was squirming out of his chair and throwing himself into Draco's arms. 'Happy Birthday!' he exclaimed. 'Do you like it?'
Draco nodded silently, overwhelmed as his looked up into Harry's green eyes which were sparkling with merriment.
'Come and see in here,' Teddy said, pulling Draco's hand to get him to stand up.
The adjoining attic space had an old square lab bench in the middle of the room. It was oak and worn and had scorch marks but it was beautiful, smooth with years of polish and use, it spoke of history and centuries of potion making and reminded Draco of Severus's advanced potions lab at school. There were oak shelves along one wall already containing a selection of potion ingredients and several cauldrons and various items which were essential for setting up a new lab, including a cabinet he could Ward to prevent Teddy getting near the more dangerous ingredients or finished potions.
'Aunty Mione has been helping with your lab. It's not new but Da thought you'd like it.'
It turned out that Hermione had heard they were refurbishing Lab 4c at the Ministry and with the right connections had managed to nab the bench and shelves and lots of the other bits and pieces before they were simply vanished for the sake of modernising.
'It's perfect,' Draco said, his voice slightly choked. 'You did all this, for me?'
Harry smiled, 'yes, but with a lot of help from our friends too. Lots of people helped me collect the books; the Weasleys, and Hagrid, and mum. Nev, Luna, and even Rolf Scamander too, he's a friend of Luna's. He's donated a first edition of his Grandfather's book...'
'No!' Draco exclaimed, overwhelmed.
'You lost a lot, I wanted... we wanted to help you build it back up.'
Harry had been to Flourish and Blotts and they'd provided him with a list of all the books Draco had ordered over the past four years. And although some of the books had been contributed to the collection as presents, Draco knew Harry must have spent a fortune replacing what was missing from the list. He felt utterly speechless.
'It's too much,' he said quietly, standing awkwardly close to Harry and wanting to hug him but not quiet daring too.
'It's not over yet, there's another surprise. Ruby!' he called.
There was a quiet 'pop!' as Ruby appeared. She had, unfortunately, taken longer than expected to heal and in the end, Harry had ended up calling on specialists from St Mungo's. It turned out that Fiendfyre burns had a habit of coming back and it took specialist salves and medicines to heal. She was healed perfectly now but both Harry and Kreacher refused to let her do too much around the house, though she'd often come and visit Draco, or vice versa, and they'd sit quietly together chatting about how she was doing and what she wanted to do when she was feeling fully well again. Recently, she had started to look after Draco's bedroom for him, but it was all Kreacher would let her do.
Ruby brought with her the old tatty bulging pillow case she'd rescued from the fire. 'It is not being much, Master Draco,' she said quietly. 'But it is being what I could rescue quickly.'
Draco fell to his knees in front of her, overawed. 'I don't know what to say...'
He opened up the pillowcase to find his old pewter cauldron he'd owned since first year and inside was stuffed a selection of his notebooks, his Advanced Potions book, some glass stirrers and some odds and ends she'd obviously just grabbed from his workbench. He pulled out a very precious walnut box which contained some personal belongings including his Malfoy signet ring, the watch his mother had given him for his seventeenth birthday, a pair of diamond cufflinks, some cello rosin, and some letters from his grandmother. His father's familiar cane with its snake head snapped back to its original size as soon as he removed it from the pillowcase, as did his old cello bow even though he hadn't owned or played a cello for five years and, finally, he retrieved two silver framed photographs; one of him and his mother, and one of his grandparents on his father's side.
He couldn't help the tears that trickled down his face and he scooped Ruby into a hug.
'Master Draco! You is being most improper!' she exclaimed and Disapparated out of his arms with an indignant 'Crack!' to reappear several feet away.
'But it's so much,' he said.
'It is being very little,' she said sadly.
'It's more than I thought I had five minutes ago and you nearly died getting these things for me. It's overwhelming.'
'Ruby,' said Harry. 'I have talked to Kreacher and we agree that these two rooms should be your responsibility along with Draco's bedroom, is that okay?'
'Yes, Master Harry, I is being most honoured to look after Master Draco's things again.' She gave a quick bow and disappeared away.
'Happy birthday, Draco,' Harry said with a smile on his face. 'Would you like us to leave you to it, to unpack and organise things as you want, or shall we stay?'
'You can stay.'
'Good,' Harry smiled, the crinkles appearing around his eyes. 'I don't want you disappearing off up here all the time and totally neglecting Teddy and me but I thought you probably needed your own space and a place for your potion brewing that isn't my kitchen table,' he teased. It had only happened once and it was an unmitigated disaster because he got toast crumbs in the potion and it all had to be vanished anyway. 'Care to tell me why you have a violin bow?'
'It's a cello bow. And no.' He placed it carefully on the top shelf of his bookshelf. Harry didn't fail to notice the pale pink flush to his cheeks.
He reached for the final package to undo.
'That's from Dean and Seamus,' said Harry.
'Really? Why?'
'Because they want to help too. I told you, they've got your back. People understand...'
As he peeled back the paper, he laughed. The present contained a selection of DVDs: the original Christopher Reeve Superman films, X-Men, the Michael Keeton and George Clooney Batman films, and three Chronicles of Narnia DVDs.
'Are they telling me something?'
Harry blushed and didn't answer.
'You've remembered I'm visiting Blaise tonight? Are you going to be okay while I'm away?' Draco asked quietly a little later after Teddy had disappeared because he was bored. He had gone off to find poor Iolaus and Otrera who he loved to pester, almost more than poor Hercules who was currently sitting at Harry's feet.
He saw Blaise occasionally, normally for birthdays. Draco recognised, after the fact, how much Blaise had known about what Draco was going through and had shown his true friendship right to the end as well as standing up for his true allegiances when it really mattered. He wished, now, that he'd trusted Blaise, but at the time he really couldn't be certain and the wrong word to the wrong person meant certain death. Silence was better. He realised afterwards, they had both been, to a degree, in similar circumstances, only Blaise's life was more problematic now than it had been at school; Blaise's mother was equally as controlling as Draco's father and Blaise was still trying to walk away from the associations of the past and start afresh.
'You're only gone a night. I lasted for four years, five actually, without you tormenting me daily, I think I'll manage,' Harry teased.
'Without me to torment you, who will tell you to brush your hair tomorrow morning?'
'I never brush my hair in the morning,' he said, running a hand through it as if to prove a point.
'Exactly!' smirked Draco.
'No one has ever complained before.'
'Well, who's going to complain to your face about the state of your hair. They're probably all scared you'll eviscerate them with a wave of your little finger.'
'Hey! You leave my little finger out of this, it's a perfectly honest and useful little finger.'
Draco didn't need to look at Harry to know in what direction Harry had taken his thoughts about his little finger or to know that his eyes had become blown; he recognised the surge of magic. Salazar! The man had a one-track mind! 'Go and make a cup of tea or something useful,' Draco muttered.
When Harry came back, he sat quietly in the armchair, watching Draco set up his desk and then reorder the books. He couldn't help watching him. It didn't help that Draco was in his work clothes, his dragonhide trousers had been completely restored by Kreacher and there was no sign of damage from the fire.
'You're being pensive,' said Draco after a while. 'Is it because I'm going away.'
'Don't flatter yourself, Draco. No, I was thinking about work.'
'You're always thinking about work. It's all you ever do. Work. Work. Work.'
'Not much in the mood for playing these days.'
'What's happened?'
'Nothing, that's the problem. I need to employ yet another new P.A. and I'm not making any headway on this case, your case, with the fires. Triple-F is lying low and the others have gone to ground. There's been nothing for a month.'
His latest P.A., Raquel, was the newest in a line of seven, maybe eight, hero-worshipping, short-skirt-wearing P.A.s that he'd had assigned to his office. None of whom seemed to have an iota of initiative between their ears or the courage to stand up to him. He hated it. He'd taken to giving absurd and outlandish requests just to test their limits before eventually kicking them out. So far, none had lasted beyond their three-month probation period. Raquel seemed worse than usual, she hadn't been in the Auror department a month, and she hadn't even turned up for a third of that. Harry found her excuses were incredible too; the previous week, after a mysterious two-day absence, she told Harry her dog had been dog-napped. Fairly extraordinary in itself, but implausible considering on her first day she told him, as she looked at Hercules with distain, said that she was allergic to dogs, and announced loudly the she could never own one as they brought her out in a rash.
'Are you going to ever tell me who Triple-F is?'
Harry smirked briefly, as if amused by the code name. But his face fell quickly again. 'Custody-sergeant who released him has been sent on a secondment to the Outer Hebrides at Robards request. It appeared he was under an Imperius.'
'Triple-F do that too?' Draco asked.
'We're not sure.'
'Can't you just arrest the man again?'
'No concrete evidence. The Unspeakables say anything we've got has definitely been tampered with. It's another piece of the case which is falling away. It's frustrating.'
'So, who tampered with it?'
'Probably the same custody-sergeant. Anyway, we've got a track on Triple-F now, it wouldn't surprise me if he makes another move again soon.'
'What makes you say that?'
'He's bold... and stupid... He approached me at work. Pleaded his innocence and upped his status to number one suspect in one fell swoop.'
'How so?'
'A cock-and-ball story about his involvement. Honestly, I don't how the man got into the Au...' Harry stopped.
'So, he was an Auror?'
'Merlin, Draco, I shouldn't be telling you any of this, they'll have my head on a platter if they found out.'
'Who are they going to find out from, you or me? It's not in my benefit to go blabbing to anyone, not that I'd know who to blab to. On the most basic level, I'd lose somewhere to live, on a more heartfelt level, I won't let you down. You do know that us Slytherins are tremendously loyal and protective towards our own?'
'You class me as one of your own?'
'Stop fishing, Potter. You know I do. Carry on about this Triple-F ex-Auror then. Did he work for you?'
'Yes, but not in one my close teams.'
'Did you recruit him?'
'Thankfully not, that would be humiliating. Though he was a member of my DA at school, I think that helped him get the job. It certainly couldn't have been his skill in the field or his ability to pick out when someone is humouring him.'
'What do you mean?'
'He caught me over my morning coffee. He was horribly sycophantic, sickeningly so. Giving it all the "You're such a wonderful and honest man, Harry. I really admire you, Harry. I know you'll help me because of my innocence in all this mess. I really want my job back. It's my one true passion in life. You've always inspired me, Harry, right back to our first year. I've always wanted to follow your lead and I'm so disappointed in myself for allowing myself to get hoodwinked by these people..." Blah! Blah! Blah!' Harry said with a grimace, his voice sing-songy as he mimicked Triple-F.
Draco smiled, 'he sounds like every other one of your admirers, oh Great Chosen One!'
'Fuck off,' Harry said without any malice. 'You know, I overheard him in the second year, badmouthing to his housemates that I was the Heir of Slytherin and I'd set your snake on him during our duel because he was my next victim.'
'Harry, you're hopeless. Now I know you're talking about Justin. Why Triple-F?'
Harry shook his head at himself and snorted. 'Because the night of the fire when I Floo-ed Robards, he kept calling him Fucking Finch-Fletchley. I told Nev and it stuck, then got shortened.'
Draco smirked. 'So, what did you do?'
'I pulled on the stony Auror face and watched him closely. Everything about him screamed "Liar!" and then he starts off on his sob story again, but with this new bit about how he'd met this bloke down the pub called Cratchit and how Cratchit was going on about the Sacred Twenty-Eight Wizards who'd followed Voldemort had got away with everything despite being in Azkaban because when they're released, they'd still have their cushy fancy houses and their wealth, etcetera, etcetera... And how they were a bad reflection on the other Sacred Twenty-Eight Wizards like the Weasleys and other good honest folk and how they took the piss out of the poorer, less wealthy wizards, with their greed and their bias votes in the Wizengamot which only got them richer and honest folk poorer, and so on. So, apparently Justin got listening to this man, and he started to agree with everything this Cratchit-man was saying because he was very persuasive in his arguments. And he introduced himself and the man said his name was Bob Cratchit...'
Harry paused and looked at Draco and Draco felt he ought to be seeing a link. Harry summoned a book from his study, it was a slim volume. He handed it to Draco who read the spine: Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol and Other Christmas Books.
'It's by a famous Muggle author. You should read it sometime, not very seasonal but a pretty famous ghost story. One of the first ones, I think. Triple-F obviously forgot he was telling lies to someone with Minerva for a mum.'
'He might have believed the man's pseudonym.'
'Maybe, but it creates suspicions because we never arrested a Bob Cratchit. The other four witches and wizards were all half-bloods or Muggleborns and none of them spoke, they refused to answer any questions during their interviews. Now Triple-F has named another member of the gang as Estella Havisham, she's another character from one of Dickens' other books. Anyway, when I checked in the Births, Marriages and Deaths Registry, Mr Bob Cratchit died in 1993. So, the truth is that although parts of his story sound reasonable, other bits are definitely interwoven with lies. For instance, when he said he didn't know you were living in the house, that was a blatant falsity. Some people were gossiping in the department a while ago, one of the secretaries had heard about you living in London and was wondering why you hadn't gone to France with your mother. I checked my memories, Justin was definitely part of that conversation, he was an enthusiastic contributor too. He also said it was the first time he'd gone out with the vigilantes but I know he took sick days the days of the other two fires and that seems too much of a coincidence. Anyway, he claimed he could get hold of one of their wands so I cast a tracking spell on him and we tailed him because I don't trust him and, also, he's a bloody idiot who doesn't realise I can do wordless and wandless magic despite working in the same department for three years. And he clearly can't tell when a fellow Auror is humouring him and when he's starting to blurt out and embellish a story so much that he's falling down holes he's dug himself into. Tosser!'
'I think you've changed since school. You nearly sound intelligent.'
'I'll take that as a compliment.'
'Don't. It wasn't meant as one.' Draco sighed, 'I'd better get my stuff, otherwise I'll be late for my afternoon surgery.'
They both stood up and somehow ended up too close together. Draco tracked his eyes down Harry, he couldn't help himself. Harry was already in his work gear, including his long Auror coat and wearing his wandholster around his t-shirt. Draco flipped the coat open to inspect the carrier.
'You don't even have a wand in that thing,' he said quietly, his voice lower than usual.
'No,' Harry's tone mirrored his.
'Why?'
Harry shrugged slightly. 'Because it makes people believe I'm carrying a wand and it lulls them into a false sense of security if it's not drawn. In the heat of the moment, well, they don't tend to notice otherwise. I found that when I did carry it, I just risked digging myself in the ribs and self-injury. I suppose it's a bit like your arm,' he said, catching hold of Draco's left wrist and pulling his arm between them. He ran a finger gently over the slightly rough skin where the Mark had been. 'I suppose that if you kept your arm covered or had another tattoo done in its place, people would assume the Mark is still there. Because you wear short sleeves, they don't think about it.'
Draco nodded, gulping slightly as the sensuousness of Harry's touch on his skin. He tried very hard not to look at Harry, at his mouth, into his green eyes. Instead he tracked the invisible lines left by Harry's touch.
'It's very much the same with this. People make unconscious assumptions based on the clues and they never look closely. You're the first person who's actually directly challenged me on it. It means I don't have to overtly advertise the wandless magic bit, sometimes it's a bit powerful.'
'So I've seen.' Draco pulled his arm away before he did anything stupid, like lean in a kiss Harry. 'Don't do anything idiotic while I'm away.'
'In all of thirty-six hours?'
'Mhem!' said Draco. 'You're always an idiot. I don't know how Hermione coped with both you and Weasley!'
***