Chapter Twenty-One
Auror Johnson
WARNING: CHAPTER RATED NC-17
The street where the telephone booth entrance to the Ministry was situated was just as dingy and shabby as Harry remembered it. Draco followed Harry closely, watching Harry carefully for any signs indicating that the raven haired man wanted to flee the scene. Or, rather, as there were quite a few signs of that, he was looking for signs of Harry actually doing it.
Harry swallowed before dialling 62442. The welcome witch’s voice sounded through the booth.
“We’re Harry Ev— Potter and Draco Malfoy and we’re here to see an Auror,” Harry said, his voice wavering.
Two buttons plopped out and the booth began sinking through the ground. Draco reached up and squeezed Harry’s hand, watching the distraught man worriedly. Harry opened his eyes and offered Draco a small, forced smile.
They walked past the Fountain of Magical Brethren to the elevators, where Draco pushed the button for the second floor, not trusting Harry’s shaking hands to hit the right button.
Harry noted that there were fewer Aurors now than when Harry had last been here, during his seventh year. Several rooms were empty. The floor seemed less busy and much neater than it had been.
“Harry – Harry Potter?”
Harry turned around, almost wincing at the name.
A tall, black woman stood behind them, her eyes wide. She looked familiar, although Harry had the feeling that he was used to seeing her in some other garb than Auror robes.
“Angelina Johnson,” she said. “Don’t you recognize your old Quidditch captain?”
Harry stared at her, before Draco nudged him and he broke out of whatever daze he’d been in and he began smiling.
“Angelina,” he said and stretched out his hand to shake hers. She would have none of it, though; she pulled him into a hug instead.
“How have you been, Harry?”
“Um—” Harry said, not knowing what he could say. He’d left the Wizarding world behind by choice – to say he’d been great and that he wished he could have stayed away; he had a feeling that wouldn’t be the best thing to say. He looked at Draco, as though an answer would be printed on his forehead.
Angelina cocked her head to the side. “And Draco Malfoy, if my eyes don’t deceive me,” she said, a curious smile on her lips. “I didn’t think you’d ever dare to come back here again.”
“Again?” Harry asked. “You’ve been here before?”
“How else would I know that the Aurors’ headquarters is on the second floor,” Draco muttered. “Of course I have. My father brought me here several times when I was a child.”
“So,” Angelina said after a moment, “I’m guessing that since the Wizarding world hasn’t seen much of you two in the last few years, that something big has happened that you need help with, for you to go straight into the devil’s lair?”
Harry hesitated. “We are here to see an Auror.”
“Does it matter which one?” Angelina asked.
Harry shook his head.
“Well, then, let’s go into my office,” said Angelina. She led the way into one of the small offices and transfigured a shoelace into a chair for Harry. “Would you like a chair as well or are you comfortable?” she asked Draco.
“I’m fine,” Draco said. “Let’s get this over with.”
Angelina nodded.
Harry began talking. “Well, it all started when…”
Thirty minutes later, he finished. His throat felt slightly dry and Angelina seemed to recognize this, as she poured a glass of water for him. Draco, who had added in details Harry had forgotten during the story-telling, asked, “So, is there anything you can do for us?”
Angelina looked thoughtful. It wasn’t all that surprising that someone from the Wizarding world had found Harry and Draco and decided that they would look nicer dead. Both men had lots of enemies – the question was where to start looking for the culprit.
“I will speak to my partner and with the Head of the department,” she said finally. “I will go through the records to see if there has ever been a Mona D’Razi at Hogwarts and if there hasn’t been, I will contact the other schools. I seem to recall the name, but I could be mistaken. I am sure Headmaster Snape will help me if I tell him it’s for you, Mr Malfoy.”
Draco smirked. “I think you should fail to mention Harry’s name, though.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Headmaster Snape still, huh? Are the kids still scared to death of him?”
Angelina smiled. “They’ve gotten used to it. Besides, Deputy Headmistress Weasley does a good job keeping him in check.”
“Deputy Headmistress Weasley? As in Ginny?” Harry asked incredulously. When he’d left the Wizarding world, the spot still hadn’t been fitted yet.
“Yes,” Angelina nodded. “Charlie Weasley went in and acted as Deputy for a while, but after Ginny got her degree in Transfiguration, she took over the position so that Charlie could go back to his old job. She’s the Transfigurations teacher, too, just like old Professor McGonagall.”
“Who teaches Potions?” Draco asked.
“An Italian guy who seems more interested in girls and his own looks than in the subject,” Angelina said, suddenly scowling. She cocked her head to the side again, studying Draco. “Say, weren’t you pretty good with Potions? You wouldn’t want to come back and have a career as the Potions Professor, would you?”
Draco shook his head, an almost-smile on his lips. “No thanks.”
Angelina shrugged. “Ah well, it was worth a try. Now, back to the topic at hand.”
“What will be the punishment for the person who cast the Heart Breaker curse, if he or she is found?” Harry asked.
“Dementor’s Kiss,” Angelina said. ”The curse has been labelled as an Unforgivable since the war ended. You just weren’t here when the legislation was passed. The Heart Breaker curse and the Insanity curse were both labelled Unforgivables.”
The three fell silent, remembering the war and the new curses that the Dark side had introduced to the world in order to win the war. St Mungo’s mental ward had been filled to the brim after the Dark side started casting the Insanity curse. There was no counter spell.
“I’m glad you’ve decided to re-enter the magical world,” Angelina finally said.
“I’m— I’m sorry, Angelina,” Harry said. “We’re not returning to the Wizarding world. We needed your help because the person or persons behind the attacks on us are using magic, but other than that, neither I nor Draco have any wish to re-enter this world.”
Angelina’s face fell slightly, but she smiled at them anyway. “I’m sad to hear that, Harry. But if you have found happiness in the Muggle world, I fully understand that you don’t want to come back.”
Harry smiled back at her and then stood up. “We’ve taken up enough of your time,” he said.
“Not at all; this has been a most interesting conversation,” Angelina said, standing up as well to shake Harry’s hand.
“I assume you will owl us if you find something?” Harry asked.
“Of course I will,” Angelina promised.
They left. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the telephone booth took them up to the Muggle street again, hoping that no one had recognized him or Draco. They were quite outstanding – Draco with his impossibly pale skin, white blond hair and his wheelchair; Harry with his messy black mop of hair and startling green eyes. But no one had said anything; they just all seemed to be going about their own ways, something which Harry was very happy for.
“Harry?” Draco’s voice was soft.
“Hm?”
They were strolling towards their home at a leisurely pace, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the fresh air. They had decided against taking a taxi, instead choosing to walk back.
“I think you need to have your wand.”
Harry stopped dead in his tracks, staring after Draco who continued to push himself forward.
“W-what?”
Draco stopped, turning around to look at Harry. “You need to get your wand again. You can’t protect yourself against these curses without it.”
“I can’t protect myself against it with a wand either,” Harry said. “Neither the Heart Breaker nor the Insanity curse have any counter spells – only spells to make the damage less severe.”
Draco looked down. “No, it was created with the sole purpose of just that – there wasn’t supposed to be any way to stop the curses; that was the idea.”
“But what if one of the curses hit a Death Eater?” Harry asked. “Then there would be no way to save him either.”
“If a Death Eater was stupid enough to get hit by a curse, then he didn’t deserve to be saved,” Draco said. “Don’t look at me like that; it was the Death Eaters’ and Voldemort’s way of looking at things, not mine.”
Harry nodded, swallowing.
Draco continued talking as he started to push himself forward again in a show that they should continue on. “My father was one of the Death Eaters involved in creating the curse. As I was to be a Death Eater, I was taught the curse and its properties. As far as I know, there is still no counter curse to either of the two.”
Harry walked up beside him, the sudden, unwelcome realization of just how deadly Draco could be hitting him with full force.
“Scared, Potter?”
Malfoy’s sneering face was before him, his two goons lingering a few feet behind, ready to step in to ‘help’ if needed.
“Harry?”
Harry shook his head, mumbling, “Sorry.”
“You disappear a million miles away sometimes,” Draco said.
Harry just shrugged.
“Where is your wand?”
“In a safe at the bank,” Harry said after a moment’s hesitation. “It’s been there since I left the Wizarding world. I— I didn’t want it, but I couldn’t just leave it behind and I couldn’t destroy it. It has too much of my history in it.”
Draco nodded in understanding. “What bank?”
After telling Draco, Harry found himself unwillingly pulled towards the bank in question. The bank safes were in the basement and Harry took off the necklace he was wearing. A small key dangled from it.
“So that’s why you always wear that necklace,” Draco said.
Harry nodded mutely. His hand shook slightly as he placed the key in the keyhole and turned it around.
In the small space of the safe lay some of Harry’s once most prized possessions. His wand lay there, untouched and just as he remembered it. It lay on top of a cloak; the Invisibility Cloak that had once belonged to Harry’s father. Harry’s reached out and carefully touched the material, letting it slip through his fingers.
Further into the safe lay a piece of parchment and a worn quill. “I got it from Ron,” he explained quietly as he ran his finger gently over the quill. He knew he was being sentimental, but he couldn’t help it. There was a reason why he had locked these things away.
A copy of ‘Hogwarts, A History’ lay beneath the quill. It was new, unused.
“A gift from Granger?” Draco asked.
Harry nodded quietly. “She gave it to me for Christmas in sixth year. She thought I needed to read it.”
“But you never opened it,” Draco said.
“There was a bit too much going on for me to sit down and read,” Harry said.
They were both silent as Harry allowed memories he’d pressed back to return. Memories of happier days at Hogwarts: with Ron and Hermione, with the other Gryffindors, with Quidditch and classes that at the time seemed never-ending. Harry closed his eyes, letting the memories flood him. Bad memories – Sirius’ death, the Hogsmeade weekend that went to Hell, Ron’s death, Snape’s injuries, Dumbledore’s death – so many deaths.
His breathing was so erratic that when he opened his eyes again, he found Draco looking at him with concern apparent in his eyes.
“Let’s go home,” Draco suggested gently.
Harry nodded shakily. He took his wand and placed it carefully in his bag, before locking the safe and letting the keychain fall underneath his clothes again. They took the elevator up and the walk home was silent.
As soon as Harry and Draco arrived home, Harry went into the pool room. Draco followed quietly as Harry turned the taps and the water started flowing into the pool and ever so slowly started filling it.
“It looks nice, doesn’t it?” Harry asked, looking around the room.
The cool white and blue-grey marble with the black details made for a very calm room, with small spotlights in a regular pattern in the ceiling and dim lights on the walls.
“Needs some vegetation,” Draco said, raising an eyebrow at the bare room.
Harry rolled his eyes. “You can’t just say something nice about it, can you?”
An hour and a half later, the pool was filled. Harry and Draco went to the room again and Harry turned around. “Would you like to inaugurate it?”
Draco looked uncertainly at the water, then at Harry. “Okay,” he said, although Harry could hear the hesitance in his voice.
Harry had ordered the construction of a shower and next to it, two changing rooms. After handing Draco a pair of swimming trunks, Harry went into one and Draco pushed himself into the other. A few minutes later, Harry was done and came outside. While he waited for Draco to get changed, he felt the temperature of the water. It wasn’t hot, but it was far from cold.
Draco refused to meet Harry’s eyes when he came out of the changing room. He looked at his lap, seeming very self-conscious for once. Harry felt things stir within that shouldn’t stir at the sight of an almost-naked Draco. The finely chiselled chest, almost hairless, where the muscles were returning bit by bit as Draco put them to use and exercised. The pale skin, looking almost white, the slender arms and fine hands and the long legs that had very little muscle now but were still.
“Beautiful, are they not?”
Draco looked unusually self-conscious, avoiding Harry’s eyes.
Harry walked over to him, bent down in front of him and captured his mouth in a kiss that conveyed exactly what he was feeling. “You are gorgeous.”
Draco looked at him dubiously but didn’t say anything.
Harry picked Draco up, supporting his back with one arm and the other one under his knees. He walked over to the pool side, where there was stairs going down into the water. Harry carefully put his feet in, descending slowly into the pool. The water was warm and felt good against his skin. As he began dipping Draco in the water he asked, “Okay?”
Draco nodded mutely.
Once they were in the water, Harry had the water that reached up to just to his elbows. The pool was deeper on the other end.
Harry let go of Draco’s legs, changing his hands so that he held the pale shoulders instead, supporting him. Draco’s legs fell to the bottom of the pool as he was unable to move them, unable to control them at all. It wasn’t for the lack of trying, though; Harry could see the concentration on Draco’s face as he tried to move his legs of his own power. The disappointment came soon after, as Draco realised that he couldn’t do it. His shoulders slumped forward, just slightly, just enough for Harry who was watching closely, to see and feel the change.
“Don’t push it,” Harry said softly. “We’ll train here as often as you need for you to get better.”
Draco nodded; Harry could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.
“Lay back and enjoy the water for a little,” Harry said.
He helped Draco switch so that he was lying on his back, floating on the water. Harry supported him lightly beneath his shoulders and underneath his knees, careful to keep water from washing over Draco’s face. He could feel that Draco was still tense, but pretended not to notice. Sooner or later, he would learn to relax, or at least Harry hoped so.
He let his fingers run over Draco’s body, keeping him afloat, massaging a bit as he went.
As the minutes passed, Draco relaxed somewhat, letting the water soothe him. Harry just stood next to him, hands keeping him afloat, watching so that Draco’s head never went underwater. The skin on his hands began getting quite wrinkly after a while and he asked Draco if he wanted to get out.
Draco opened his eyes and looked at Harry, giving him a small nod. Harry took Draco gently by the shoulders and pulled him towards the stairs, where he made Draco sit, water up to his waist.
“I’m just going to get towels for us,” he said and got out of the water. In the cabinet on the other side, he took out two fluffy blue towels. He unfolded Draco’s and draped it over the wheelchair so that Draco could be easily wrapped up. He placed his own towel on top of Draco’s.
Draco was, once again, avoiding Harry’s eyes and gazing down at his hands. Harry descended into the water and placed a hand on the man’s pale shoulder.
“Draco?”
“How can you even look at me?” The words came out as a harsh whisper and Draco away, avoiding Harry’s gaze.
“What are you talking about?” Harry asked.
“This!” Draco said, frustrated, and threw his arm out to motion at his legs. “I’m— I’m so weak! I can’t even stand up by myself. I can’t do anything, I can’t walk, I can’t reach things, I can’t— I can’t even get up a flight of stairs by myself! How can you stand it? How can you stand looking at me at all? I was horrid to you for years and now you take care of me and I don’t understand how you can look at me without being completely disgusted because I am disgusted every time I see myself in the mirror and— and—”
Draco pressed his hand over his eyes, trying to stop the tears from coming, but he wasn’t successful. Tears of despair made their way down his pale cheeks and he hid his face from Harry, who stood before him, his heart breaking at the sight of Draco.
Quietly, he gathered Draco to him. The other man resisted at first, but Harry didn’t let go and soon, Draco was clinging to him, his body shaking with sobs.
“I’m so tired,” he whispered between sobs. “I can’t take it, I don’t want it anymore. I— I can’t do it any longer. I don’t want it.”
Harry ran his hand through Draco’s wet hair, the other hand making slow circles on the pale back, trying to calm him.
“How can you look at me?” Draco’s voice was getting quieter, sounding so broken and lost. “How can you stand me at all?”
“Because you are beautiful,” Harry whispered, just as softly but his voice steady and filled with— love? Yes, he realised. He wasn’t freaked out by the idea; instead he just let it flow over him. He loved Draco. Loved him with every part of his being. That was why this was so hard, to see him break down like this.
“I’m not—“
“Shh,” Harry said. “You are. You are beautiful, strong and absolutely wonderful.”
Draco pulled away enough to look at Harry in the eyes. “But I—“
“No,” Harry whispered, placing a finger to Draco’s lips. “No buts. Just accept.”
He leaned down and kissed Draco, pressing their lips together in a way that he hoped Draco would take as loving, promising. He was suddenly very certain of what he wanted – he wanted to show Draco that he was truly beautiful; he wanted Draco to feel; he wanted Draco to understand that he wanted to be with him.
When their lips met the touch was feathery at first. Full red lips met soft pink and Harry tasted the salt from Draco’s tears. His hands went up to cup Draco’s cheeks and all of his mind was on trying to make Draco understand what he felt. Both men had closed their eyes; Draco was shaking under Harry’s touch but didn’t pull away. Harry leaned into the kiss a bit further, applying just a little more pressure.
Draco inclined his head just a bit to the side, breathing in and then he kissed back, moving into Harry a little.
The uncertainty was like the first time they’d kissed. Harry didn’t know if physical affection was what Draco needed at the moment, so he took it slowly, ready for rejection. But Draco didn’t pull back; he welcomed Harry’s lips and hands, his own fingers treading through Harry’s wet hair. Harry’s tongue slipped out and licked Draco’s lower lip. Draco made a sound, a soft moan in the back of his throat. Harry took that as an okay to continue and the kiss became bolder as he started exploring Draco’s mouth for real. The kiss was more intense than any they’d shared before and he never wanted it to stop.
When they finally had to pull away, they were both breathless.
Draco’s eyes were still closed, the tear tracks still visible on his cheeks, his lips slightly redder than usual. He opened his eyes gradually, then blinked in order to focus his vision on Harry. His eyes were still red and puffy from crying, but Harry thought Draco was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.
Neither man said anything, but their gazes were locked and Harry smiled. Draco returned it, smiling weakly back.
Harry moved and picked Draco up from the pool. Draco leaned into Harry’s touch, hiding his face in Harry’s shoulder. Making a split-second decision, Harry just leaned down and picked the towels up from the wheelchair with one hand and then carried Draco from the pool-room to Draco’s bedroom. Placing him on the bed without a word, they just kept looking at each other.
“I don’t know if I can—“ Draco began uncertainly. “I’ve not— I haven’t—“
“It doesn’t matter,” Harry said, making sure love laced every word. “I’ll make it good for the both of us. Just guide me, tell me what feels good.”
Draco nodded. Harry could see uncertainty playing in the grey eyes.
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Harry said. “We don’t have to do anything at all, if you’re not ready.”
Draco closed his eyes briefly, then said, “I’m ready. I just— I want it to be good— I don’t want to disappoint you.”
Harry smiled gently, brushing a strand of blond hair away from Draco’s face. “You won’t. Just being here with you is greater than anything I could have imagined.”
Then Draco tugged Harry closer, kissing him again and pulling Harry with him down onto the bed. Draco’s hands ran over Harry’s body and Harry shivered at the contact, his need for Draco growing. The kisses were long and slow, fuelled by passion and love and gentleness. Neither had any need to go quickly; they had all the time in the world to explore each other, to see what felt good to the other.
Harry moved to kiss Draco’s jaw and down his throat and shoulders. His hands worked, moving swiftly over Draco’s body and his brain registered every time Draco gasped. He soon discovered that the hollow of Draco’s neck was a very sensitive spot; Draco’s head was thrown back, with Draco arching into Harry’s kisses. Harry’s fingers played with Draco’s nipples, twisting and pinching, careful not to do it too hard.
“Yes, yes,” Draco mumbled, writhing beneath Harry. “Do that again, do it harder—oh God…”
Harry smiled, the smile of a predator. He bent down and licked the darkened area around Draco’s nipples, while his hands continued downwards. He knew Draco wouldn’t be able to feel much; he knew what Draco had meant earlier was that he hadn’t had an erection since the accident. Harry had read about it in the books.
“Oh yes,” Draco hissed, arching again as Harry’s tongue circled his navel, dipping into it and adding pressure. His hands were back on Draco’s nipples again.
Harry could feel Draco’s cock move, though it was far from the straining erection he himself had by now. Still, the movement reassured him – as if Draco’s moans and hissing hadn’t already – that he was doing things right. He continued stroking, squeezing and kissing Draco all over; the pale skin looked inviting as whipped cream and the vision of a whipped cream covered Draco almost sent him over the edge.
It may have taken minutes, it may have taken hours. For all that Harry cared, an eternity could have passed; he wouldn’t have noticed. He was in heaven and had no intention of leaving. The music in his ears that was Draco as he cried out would forever be etched into his mind.
Much, much later, Draco and Harry fell asleep, naked bodies tightly intertwined beneath the sheets.
Chapters
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